Hindsight

A/N: Sorry it's so late. Will explain at end. Must type disclaimer or risk being sued for my net worth, five dollars and fifty-two cents.

Disclaimer: Call it not theft, my darlings. I prefer...selective use of things that do not legally belong to me. But what is...belonging? Does the glorious story of Inuyasha and Kagome not belong to the world?
Alright, if you must be technical, I technically don't legally own them.

DAY ONE: ACT THREE: Kagome

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She realized that the next words out of her mouth would determine her lifespan, so for once Kagome Higurashi thought before she spoke. Dealing with Sesshomaru was always a grand production, where the slightest misstep could result in decapitation or considerable pain.

Her eyes widened as she recalled that he had allowed her to lead him to the stream, and was permitting her to help him, which gave her hope to regain sensations upwards of her neck.

She carefully thought up a suitable, respectful answer, and inwardly cheered madly.

Too bad her mouth had other ideas.

“What the hell happened to you?” she burst out, wiping automatically at the magenta stripes on his wrist.

He winced, before leveling a glare in her direction.

“I was attacked.” He said precisely, as if speaking to an utter dolt.

“Well, that is patently obvious. But you can hold your own in a fight. You never, ever get bloody. And where did you get a new arm?” it suddenly dawned on her that he had both arms.

“It grew back.” He bit out.

“And what about the fighting? Did you suddenly forget how to fight?” she asked sharply.

“No.” he said abruptly. She looked up at his tone and realized he had his death glare face.

She decided that now would be the best time to shut up.

Thankfully, her mouth was in accord, and she clamped her lips together tightly.

She cleaned off his arm totally, wincing at the numerous small cuts and a particularly nasty bruise on his elbow.

“Damn, what did you do? Fight with a mountain?” she muttered, tracing her fingertips lightly over his bruise.

His arm stiffened considerably, and he growled. Growled. At her.

Ungrateful wretch.

“I understand that you are hurt, but must you be such an ass about it?” she asked.

His eyes widened, and Kagome sighed secretly.

‘Well, goodbye life.’

What happened next almost caused her to fall back in total shock.

The corners of his lips quirked up.

He. Was. Smiling.

Sesshomaru, possibly the most uptight being in all creation, was smiling. At her, no less.

“Apologies, Miko.” He murmured.

And now he was apologizing? Him? What freak dimension was she in?

She put aside the cloth, rubbed her hands together, and placed her palms over his cuts.

Not a thing happened.

She stared at her palms, shook them, then put them back over his cuts.

Nothing happened again.

“Dammit, work!” she exclaimed, thrusting her hands over his cuts again.

A bright pink glow issued from her palms, lighting up his smooth, white arm.

They watched, one satisfied, the other stupefied, as his cuts mended themselves instantly, each cut quickly morphing into a thin pink line.

A few seconds later, his arm was completely restored.

He lifted his arm and stared at it, flexing his fingers experimentally.

Wordlessly, he offered his other arm.

She took it with a small smile and proceeded to repeat the cleaning-healing process.

As she rose to rinse out the cloth, she wondered how she was to clean him further without dying in a conflagration of blushing and embarrassment. Even she was aware of just how personal and intimate this was going to get.

She knelt down next to the stream, dipping the cloth in slowly, brow creased in thought.

His voice almost directly behind her had her jerking forward in surprise.

As she fell towards the water, she inwardly cursed ferociously.

A strong arm at her waist had her stopping, mid-expletive.

She looked at her waist to see his long, strong arm curved around it, stopping her just as she was about to take an unwanted bath.

He drew her up until she was parallel to him and then abruptly released her.

She beat back unexpected shivers at being clasped so closely to him. He was a big, bad meanie. A big bad meanie. A big bad meanie that just saved her from indignity and a future cold. But a big, bad meanie nevertheless.

“Perhaps it would be best if I cleaned off the rest of the blood.” He said quietly.

Kagome, studiously looking at a particularly interesting blade of grass, nodded and quickly sat next to her pile of discarded flora.

A series of splashes soon sounded, but she stared with all her might at her plants, refusing to look up.

She wasn’t even thinking about Sesshomaru, shirtless. Because that wouldn’t be right. She had a thing for Inuyasha, no matter how obnoxious he was. Looking at his brother was just…wrong.

Even if said brother had the physique of a god.

That had nothing to do with anything. Because what mattered was what was inside, and Sesshomaru was a bastard, always picking fights with Inuyasha, seemingly just for something to do.

‘Never mind he never actually killed Inuyasha’, a tiny, hesitant voice mumbled in her head.

‘And your point is what? It wasn’t from lack of trying.’ She snapped back immediately.

‘Really? You know Sesshomaru is a much better fighter than Inuyasha could ever hope to be. Why, then, is Inuyasha living to irritate you right now?’ The tiny voice asked belligerently.

Her brows drew down as she briefly considered pelting a rock at the voice. Her hand even closed around a smooth pebble lying nearby, before she remembered that she was, in essence, arguing with herself.

Trembling with the power of sweet revenge thwarted, she dropped the pebble and pressed her palms together to quell her anger.

So engrossed was she in her task that she didn’t even register that she was suddenly in shadow.

A blur of white suddenly in her line of vision had her jerking her head up.

Sesshomaru sat in front of her, dripping wet and free of blood. His long, silver hair hung heavily down his back, all the stain of blood gone. His gold eyes flashed back at her in his face, and she found herself regarding him with new eyes.
His silver bangs fluttered over his smooth forehead, grazing his arched, elegant eyebrows. Substantial lashes framed his contrasting golden eyes, which perched over high, formed cheekbones.
His elfin chin rode under his lips, which currently were ever so slightly pursed.

Her eyes traveled downwards, to his newly clean abdomen.

Her breath involuntarily caught.

She had a thing for Inuyasha, sure. Did that mean she was blind? Before her squatted physical perfection. She had to restrain herself from stretching out a hand and trailing her fingers over his muscles.

His was not a burly, muscular, roar physique. It was a lean, muscled, not-an-ounce-of-fat kind of fit. Each muscle was clearly defined and…well…beautiful.

She shook herself out of her wide-eyed appreciation, to register that his spectacular physical attributes were slowly oozing blood from numerous cuts.

“What happened to your fighters? Did they sit there on their behinds and watch?” she asked acerbically, placing her palms over then nastiest one, a deep slash that ran from his left shoulder to his right hip.

“I was alone.”

She was surprised, not that he was alone and battling. Nope, that fit in with his lone wolf persona. Or was it lone dog? No, what surprised her was that he actually answered.

Usually, his interaction with her was a disdainful staredown when she intervened into his fights with Inuyasha. The disdain
usually came after she chewed him out for knocking Inuyasha unconscious, as he almost always did.

Her confidence bolstered by the fact that he seemed to have no inclination to divest her of any necessary body part, she
smiled hesitantly at him, before sealing up his wound.

As she carefully healed each individual cut, she racked her brain for something to say that was not as accusatory as most of her other verbal contributions.

Finding absolutely nothing that would not seem patronizing, she resolutely shut her mouth, instead opting to concentrate wholly on healing him.

To his credit, he sat perfectly still through what she knew had to hurt slightly. She was, after all, healing him with miko powers, with him being a youkai. It had to sting considerably.

After about a half hour, he sat, perfectly healed, before her.

She flopped down onto the grass, bone-tired, as he slowly got to his feet, rubbing his graceful hands all over himself, apparently still dubious about her healing capabilities.

Vaguely insulted, she propped herself up onto her elbows and stared at him.

He stared back at her, and she suddenly found herself in a stare-contest.

He was worse than Souta, who could go without blinking for hours. Finally, she looked away, conceding defeat to a worthy opponent.

The stare-contest brought a new problem to her mind,

Okay, so she had healed him up...

Now what?



A/N: I don't know that I like this chapter very much, but whatever. The reason I've been so lax in posting of chapters is that my country qualified for the World Cup, and I have spent the last month or so screaming like an utter idiot everytime they had a game. We actually play our first game ever tomorrow. I can't wait.
As for Sesshomaru, in the next chapter, he'll be around soon. I just want to tweak it a bit.

Oh, and I am completely aware he is excessive OOC. I just think that he's too smart to really be that assy all the time. I have somehow convinced myself that he has a morbid sense of humour and is actually really sarcastic.
Why, I don't know.
But that's how he's going to be here.
Deal with it, my lovelies.

Anyways, next chapter, Act 4, Sesshomaru, is even passably funny.