Hindsight

A/N: Due to the fabulous response, I give you chapter four. Love it, hate it, be confused by it, but read it!

DISCLAIMER: *Deep breath*. I do, I do, I do believe in owning! I do, I do, I do believe in Inu. I do, I do, I do believe I own Inu....
Did it work?

DAMN YOU, J.M. BARRIE!
Still don't own them here, people.

DAY ONE, ACT FOUR: Sesshomaru

Sesshomaru realized that she had noticed his magenta markings, and wondered briefly what he was to say to her. She clearly was immediately terrified, a reaction he took particular offense to. In all of his little squabbles with his half-brother, not once had he ever endangered her or any of her teammates.

Sesshomaru speculated that perhaps it was a female thing.

Heaven knows that the females of any species were prone to puzzling reactions to every situation.

He had resigned himself to female screams and her running away, which he had deduced from her horrified expression. He even let his bloody hair fall over his ears in an effort to muffle the ear-piercing squeals.

“What the hell happened to you?” she shouted instead.

He winced, wishing that he had instead thrown his hands over his ears, dead fathers and ancestors be damned.
He glared at her, wishing that he had been found by a kind, sweet-tempered, quiet miko instead of this sarcastic, cranky, loud termagant.

“I was attacked.” He spaced his words carefully, for the first time in his life wishing that someone could read his mind so he wouldn’t have to speak.

“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 grew back.” He bit out, really, really, really hating his voice right now.

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

“No.” He gave up on trying to be civil and threw his best shut-up-or-die glare her way. Thankfully, that seemed to work, as she clamped her lips together.

Hallelujah.

He basked in the silence, gleefully hoping that it lasted forever.
And, in accordance with his luck thus far…

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

‘Well, shit.’ He mumbled internally, growling his extreme displeasure at her. That bloody hurt. He dearly wanted to grab his arm from her and whine piteously, but he knew he would forever regret it.

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

Sesshomaru’s eyes widened, before he grinned. Well, his version of a grin.
If he weren’t in so much pain and his father’s irate spirit wasn’t hovering over him, he would have laughed.

“Apologies, Miko.” He murmured, almost laughing at her shocked expression.

As she rubbed her hands together and placed them over his arm, he felt a tiny moment of trepidation.
He had seen, after all, what those arrows of hers were capable of. Her putting her hands over his cuts could not be a good idea.

When nothing happened, she scowled at her hands, and then placed them again over him.

Nothing continued to happen.

She glared at her hands, yelled at them, and a bright pink light issued from them over his arm.

‘Okay, now that hurt too.’ He thought, as the light pricked at his cuts none-too-gently.
A few seconds later, and his arm was completely restored.
He stared at it in wonder, and then eagerly proffered his other arm.
He was not one to stare a gift horse in the mouth, especially when said gift horse was healing his cuts and replacing blood that he didn’t have.

When she finished up his other arm and walked over to the stream to again clean off the rag, he stared at his arms in wonder, and then looked down at his blood-encrusted chest.

A small, nagging voice suddenly popped up in his head.

‘She’s a girl, you know.’

And? Sesshomaru really couldn’t see the connection.

‘And you’re a man.’ The voice offered, supposedly helpfully.

Still lost here. Sesshomaru recognized that speaking to himself wasn’t entirely sane, but what did he care? He was mostly dead; allowances could be made just this once.

‘A mostly naked man. And you know she’s pure. Do I have to spell it out for you?’ The voice huffed.

That would be nice. Sesshomaru said in utter confusion.

‘Did it ever occur to you in this vast expanse of brain you call yours that it would be somewhat uncomfortable for her to be
washing down some man’s chest?’

“Oh.”

‘Yeah, oh.’

Sesshomaru banished the voice and swiftly rose, walking up behind her.

“Miko-” He started, but stumbled to a halt when she fell forward in surprise, on a direct course towards the stream.

His arm shot out and curved around her waist, stopping her from a dunking.
He slowly drew her up until she was parallel to him, her legs touching his for a second.
He released her suddenly, unbidden thoughts racing through his head.
Some insane notion that he only had to lean forward ever so slightly and he could fix his teeth on her lower lip, maybe even -
Why the hell was he thinking about her in any capacity other than his unlikely ally?

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

She nodded then practically ran for her little pile of flowers and leaves, leaving him to the stream.
He dunked his hands in and splashed water all over himself, reveling in the cold, clean feeling over his grimy body. He wanted to throw himself in and let the bubbling waters clean him while he just lay there.
But-wait. Why didn’t he, again?
Ah, right. The little miko behind him might not appreciate that.
She should be grateful that his lower body was mostly free of any abuse. He smirked, as he threw water over his head in an effort to rinse his hair.
Scowling, he turned, lay on his back and let his hair fall into the stream.
He really didn’t have the strength to wash all that by himself.
As he folded his hands over his newly clean stomach, he looked up at the clear blue sky and busied himself with soothing thoughts of butchering Keichi and the rest of his conspirators.
And he would do it without getting a speck of blood on himself.

Just wait and see…

The lack of any metallic blood-scent had him sitting up, draping his heavy, wet hair over an arm.
Finally free of all of the filth of his battle, he strode over to where she was sitting, cross-legged, something clenched tightly in her hand.
He looked down at her for a few moments, studying her long hair pulled back into a braid, her elfin, pretty features.
When she showed no indication of looking up and responding, he sat in front of her.
He watched, strangely gratified, as her eyes widened and her gaze swept him up and down in apparent wonder.
Just as his father’s voice started harping again, Sesshomaru reminded him that while he was a youkai lord, and yes, there was a certain amount of decorum necessary for said title, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a male and couldn’t appreciate a woman ogling him.
His father curiously silent, Sesshomaru continued to enjoy her watching him.

“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.
He sighed, resigning himself to polite chitchat.

“I was alone.” There. That was a nice, solid, unarguable answer.

She looked up, surprised, and Sesshomaru immediately returned to confusion.
First she was afraid, and now she was surprised? What did she really want?
To hell with it. He would just stay quiet and let her do her magic.
She smiled hesitantly, and Sesshomaru almost smiled back, but caught himself just in time, actually feeling the sharp rap of the cane his father had used when he was acting inappropriately when he was alive. Inutaisho had used that damned stick up until the day he died.

He couldn’t get away from the cursed youkai even years after he had died.

For the second time that day, he acknowledged that today truly was not all that fun.

It got even less fun when she started on the more vicious cuts.

Sesshomaru used up all the curses he ever learnt while she was healing him up. And for a dog youkai with a goodly amount of time lived behind him, the curse list was long, indeed.
After an agonizing half an hour, she finally finished, and flopped onto her back, apparently tired.
Sesshomaru took the opportunity to rub his hands all over himself, completely surprised when he found no scratches.
He soon realized that she was glaring at him, and he stared back at her.

Their eyes locked, sapphire to gold, and he wondered what, precisely, was her problem now.

She soon looked away, scowling slightly, and Sesshomaru allowed his lips to quirk up into a smile.
She looked so petulant, almost like Rin when Jaken point-blank refused to dress up with her.
As he watched, her expression folded into one of deep concern and sudden apprehension.

Great. What did he do now? Must he stop breathing to appease her?

As far as he could tell, the worst thing he had done was look at her.

Fine. No more looking at her, then.
She would just have to deal with his breathing, because he wasn’t about to stop that anytime soon.

When she finally spoke, he confirmed his lifelong suspicion grimly.

Females were utterly insane.

A/N: Upon rereading, I saw, rather shockingly, that I am really disparaging to women. Why, I don't know, as we are obviously superior. Upon inspection, I remember that Sesshomaru is often a pompous ass. And that I have heard all my brothers use that same sentance:

' perhaps it was a female thing. Heaven knows that the females of any species were prone to puzzling reactions to every situation.'

Blame them, not me.

Next chappy, Day 1, Act 5, Kags.