Under the Cover of Snow

**Disclaimer applies, i.e, I don't own ANYTHING Inuyasha related**

Hey guys! I know it's been forever since I've updated, and let's face it, Inuyasha no longer has the same hold on me as it used to. Right now I'm more focussed on my X-Men Evolution work, but fear not, I have a relatively accurate idea of where I wanted to go with this story, so it WILL be finished eventually (I promise!). Here's a chapter I had saved on file, and I hope you enjoy. Keep up those reviews, I love hearing from you guys!

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An animal-like scream pierced the night air, and Kogome could only stare in a daze as Inuyasha’s mangled form leapt from above straight at the demon. Tetsuaiga flashed as it sliced through the creatures head, severing the shard from the rest of its body. Inuyasha landed nimbly a few feet away from the twitching creature. A moment later, Miroku bounded into the clearing and ripped the beads from his hand and made short work of the beast.

Still in shock, Kagome could only stare as Inuyasha slowly turned to her. His sword hung limply at his side once more, as his other arm stretched out to her. “Ka. . .Kagome. . .” he managed before collapsing head-first. Numbly she rose and stumbled to his side. His bandages were soaked in the blood that was once again running freely from his many wound. Tears blurred her vision as she ripped the remaining cloth of his shirt to stanch the flow.

“Help. . . help me, please. . . somebody help him!” She cried as villagers began venturing out now that the creature was gone. Two old women were at her side in an instant, one inspecting him as the other ordered a group of young men to lift him. Kagome tried to follow as Inuyasha and Sango were carried away, but one of the old women remained behind and blocked her way.

“I must inspect you and the other young one, please follow me,” she motioned, but when Kagome hesitated, she took her by the arm. “There is little more you can do now young one. He must see immediate care, and we are not allowed in while the medicine man works. Please, come now. You must explain some things to me.”

She half-lead, half dragged them into one of the small, wooden dwellings, where she seated them. “Here, drink this, it will help you to relax,” she said as she ladled a steaming liquid into two mugs and placed it before them. She took a seat opposite them. “Now, you must explain to me what has happened to the creature that attacked my villiage.”

Kagome listened mutely, thankful for once at Miroku’s talkative nature. Poor Inuyasha. Her mind kept replaying the scene in her mind. Particularly the look on his face when he reached out to her. She felt her heart wrench once more at the memory of all the blood he had lost. It scared her to no end at the trouble he always seemed to get himself into. . .but this time was different. This time was worse than when Sesshomaru had thrust his hand into Inuyasha’s chest in the attempt to rip out his heart. All those demons attacking from out of nowhere. . .they had finally managed to get away, only to find this. . .

The woman was speaking to her again, something about bedding down for the night. As if she could sleep when just a few houses away Inuyasha lie half-dead. And Sango as well. Her brows furrowed. Angrily she stood, knocking over the mug and spilling its contents. “How can you even think we would could sleep with our friends hurt?”

The old woman looked slightly shocked, then pensive. “There is nothing more you can do for them, but then again, I am old and forgetful of the attachments of youth. Of course you would wish to stay with your loved ones. . .” She stood and went to door, where she peaked out, looking both ways. “Come with me.”

Miroku caught her eye and nodded knowingly. They followed the old woman as she went deeper into the heart of the village. After a few moments of walking the woman stopped between two dwelling. They looked at her expectantly. “The young woman’s wounds were less pressing as the other that arrived with you, so she was sent to recovery quarters, in this building.” She motioned to the left. “The young man was taken to this one, were he was treated immediately, but they should be finished by now.”

“I will stay with Sango, you go on ahead,” Miroku turned to Kagome, his voice more gentle than usual. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She nodded and gave him a small smile, then turned to follow the old woman inside. It was dark as she followed the woman down a long hallway, and then she paused at the fourth door they passed.

“In here is your friend, but I must leave you to tend to other matters. The healing woman will come by again in the morning to check on him.”

“Thank you,” Kagome mumbled as she watched her leave the way she came. Bracing herself, Kagome turned and entered into the small room. It was dark but for a small fire going in the corner and the lantern that flickered uncertainly on the wall. A table and wash basin stood against one wall, a wooden chair stood beside the cot where a covered figure lay. Slowly she made her way over and pulled the blanket away from the bed’s occupant.

Much paler than usual. Dried blood streaking his hair and limbs. She pulled the blanket down further to inspect his chest. Heavily bandaged and no longer gushing. Stitches laced down the gash in his arm, and she noted a few peeking out from his modestly covered male hip. Sighing, she sat down beside him as gently as possible and put her hand to his cheek. Small fever, and his skin was cold and clammy. He did not stir at her touch. She reached into the wash basin and drew out a wash cloth, then carefully wrung the excess water from it. Brushing his bangs from his forehead, she gently began cleansing the dried blood from his face and arms. Slowly she moved further down to his chest, and for some reason found herself blushing.

“Get it together Kagome, your thinking like Miroku,” she chided herself mentally. Then, making sure nothing indecent was visible, she scrubbed the last of it from his legs. Pulling the blanket back up to his chin, she rose and set in the wooden chair. Glancing around the room once more, she noticed his clothes, what was left of them anyway, in a heap at the foot of the futon. “He’s totally naked under there. . .” a naughty voice whispered in her mind. Blushing furiously, she shook her head and forced herself to think of other things. Fleetingly she wondered about Sango. A yawn escaped her, and she looked around futilely for extra bedding. “Must not have been expecting visitors. . .” she grumbled, then looked back at Inuyasha. An idea was taking hold in her mind, but she fought it. On one side, she would be keeping him warm, and on the other she would have a semi-comfortable place to sleep. Biting her lip nervously, and half-expecting him to suddenly wake and yell at her, she slipped her shoes off. Looking down at him, she took a deep breath, then raised the covers and slipped as easily as she could in next to him.