Hindsight

A/N: A new story, one I've been working on for a while.
It bounces between Kagome and Sesshomaru's perspectives. I'm slightly satisfied with how it's turning out.

Anyways, I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. That hysterical sobbing you hear is mine.

CHAPTER ONE: Not A Very Good Day...Nope.


DAY ONE, ACT ONE: Kagome

It occurred to her in hindsight, as many things tend to do, that perhaps poking him was not the best of ideas.
In her defense, at the time it seemed perfectly reasonable, even the obvious thing to do.
After all, he was lying there, motionless, after falling from a considerable height and landing flat on his face. Was she to simply stand there, when he could be very well dead?
Of course, if he were dead, there was very little she could do, but that was beside the point.
Besides, she reasoned, it wasn’t that hard of a poke. Not even a poke. More like a gentle nudge.
She doubted strongly that he felt the same way, though.
So, as she ruminated all this in her precarious position, the pokee to her poker stared emotionlessly at her, his viciously strong hand clamped around her neck.
She had batted half-heartedly at his vice grip, realizing before she began that it was totally useless. Still, it couldn’t hurt to try.

‘On second thought, maybe it can.’ She mused, as her ineffective efforts to be free only had him tightening his grip.

So she hung, her legs a few good feet above the ground, back pressed against a knobby, extremely uncomfortable tree, staring down at her captor.

“Uh, are you okay?” she managed to ask, gasping in some needed air as well.

His eyes widened marginally, before his chapped, bruised lips quirked into a humorless smirk.

“You should worry about yourself, not me.” He told her coolly.

“Ordinarily, yes. But you just fell a couple hundred feet and landed on your nose. So, I ask again, are you alright?” she huffed, managing to worm her fingers between his long, bloody ones and her neck. She pulled with all her might at his fingers, managing to free up his grip enough to breathe better.

“You are aware that I could break your neck at any moment?” he asked disinterestedly.
She realized that conceivably it was not the best time for sarcasm, but she just could not help herself.

“No, really? And here I imagined you were giving me a neck rub.”
An elegant eyebrow arched, before his fingers, his damnable fingers, tightened yet again; this time pressing her own damned fingers into her neck.

“Dammit, are you okay?” she burst out, eyeing his blood-drenched clothing.

Under her eagle-eyed survey, his right leg wobbled slightly, before stiffening to an eerie stillness.
Still, the cursed man remained absolutely silent.
She rolled her eyes, thinking about the events that brought her to this moment in time.

**********
FLASHBACK
**********

“Inuyasha, you are the most ill-mannered waste of air I have ever met!”

“Like you’re any better!”

“At least I bathe!”

“That doesn’t get rid of the smell! Trust me on that!”

“SIT!!!!!!”

The loud, obnoxious argument was cut short by a violent crash, and a huge mushroom of dust.
Sango and Miroku, the youkai-huntress and monk, both looked up from their chat and laughed. Inuyasha, their half-human, half-demon friend, lay face-first in a huge crater, silver hair spread out like a pool of shimmering water. His flowing hair contrasted sharply with his fire-rat red haori, which was in its usual state of wrinkles and dirt.
Their other traveling companion stood above the hole and the hanyou, eyes flashing murderously, one dainty hand gripped around a substantial stick. The enraged girl looked ready and capable of bashing the inert hanyou over his head repeatedly.
With a strangled scream, she pelted the stick down into the hole, grinning evilly when it smacked into Inuyasha’s head with a loud thunk. She then whirled on her heel and stormed off into the surrounding forests, hands fisted tightly at her side.

‘Ooh, that insufferable moron! What I’d give to give him a good kick!’ She seethed, jean-clad legs eating the distance between her and the idiot in question. Her fisted hands were ghostly white, her knuckles angry bursts of red as they periodically thumped against her legs. She charged into the forest, yanking off stray branches and twigs that caught up in her sky blue shirt and tossing them to the loose dirt she stamped on.

The emerald leaves of the trees swayed soothingly above her, trying to comfort her, or at least stop her from maiming their new, tender branches.
Photosynthesis was hard when you had no leaves.
She reached a clearing and sat with an ill-tempered huff in the middle, breathing deeply to dispel the mind-blowing anger. She pulled up her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, propping her chin on her knees.
Her elfin features relaxed as she breathed in soothing, flowery aromas, and she even managed a small smile at the clear skies and gently undulating flowers.
But damn, sometimes Inuyasha could be so infuriating, she just wanted to grab Tetsusaiga and brain him with it.

She banished her violent thoughts from her mind and tipped her head up to the sky. A flash of red had her rising to her feet and straining her eyes. A big, red…something was falling rapidly, from out of nowhere, and was aimed towards the forest. She watched as it crashed not far off from the clearing, and immediately set off towards it, hoping whatever it was was unharmed.
Well, obviously it would be slightly harmed, but she hoped that it, he or she was still alive.
As she darted through the trees, eyes looking for any flash of red, she acknowledged that she was rambling, even in her mind. But whatever. No one could hear her thoughts, now could they?
Besides, it wasn’t as if-

She stopped, mid-thought, as she saw a piece of red out of the corner of her eye. She turned around, to see a large, prone lump of dirty silk lying face-first in the dirt.
She leapt to its side, eyes widening as she saw the bright red blood that stained much of the cloth, making it look dirty from a distance. The figure underneath the cloth was long-limbed and very muscular, as well as decidedly male. His hair was tucked into his haori, and what was visible was bloody and disgusting, and she had no inclination to touch it.
She stared fixedly at his back, looking for any movement up and down to signify breath. When none came, she hesitantly put out a small hand and grasped his shoulder, her aim to turn him over. As she pushed, she unbalanced and fell onto him with an ‘oof’.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit. Damned people falling out of the damned air and are damned heavy…”she muttered as she scrambled off of him. The movement caused him to shift, and she realized that he was breathing.
Again, her hand crept out, and one finger gently pressed against his arm.
And then he woke with a vengeance.

**********

She glared down at him, willing with all her might that he let her go. Her throat, already sore with her shouting match with that moron, was screaming in protest at his grip.
The man just kept staring at her.

“Well, are you? Or are you going to stay quiet and be all broody and mysterious? Because if you are, just let me go so I can go somewhere where I am appreciated.”

Somewhere, in the dim, dark recess of her mind, where self-control resided, klaxon alarms were being played. In that little, ill-used room, she knew that mouthing off to a very dangerous, very powerful, very bloody youkai was not the best of ideas. It was one of the worst ideas, in fact.
She stuck her tongue out at her self-control, reasoning that if she were to die, at least she would die sneering at her killer.
The killer in question was blinking at her in surprise, possibly at her tone.

“Do you never cease speaking?” he asked incredulously.

“It has been known to happen from time to time. Why are you trying your best to strangle me?” she asked.

He smirked, this time obviously amused.

“This is not my best effort.” He replied.

“Well, yay for you. Please, let me down. I just want to help you.” She asked softly, allowing her hands to go limp beneath him.

“You are a mere human. You cannot help me.”

“Shows how much you know. I’m a miko, a healer. I can help you, if you would let me go.”

He eyed her askance, as if weighing the probability of her being an actual miko.

She sighed, before releasing a tiny bit of her powers. A thin mist of pink light surrounded his hand, pricking it gently.

He would feel as though a thousand sharp needles were being slowly rubbed, tip-first, against his hand.

He released her, nodding.

“Very well, miko; fix me.” He rasped, his voice ragged.

She looked up from her seated position, having fallen on her backside to the ground when he abruptly let her go. Standing slowly, she surreptitiously rubbed her abused flesh, restraining herself from shooting him a death glare.
He stood impassively, looking down at her through his blood-covered face. Something about him was very familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. All the blood was a bit off-putting, after all.
She opened her miko powers, searching for a stream or body of water.
She located one not far off, and turned to the tall, forbidding youkai.

“Come on, grumpy. There’s a stream not far from here, only about two minutes. Let’s get all that
blood off you.” She said, pointing one long, tapered finger in the general direction of the stream, her other hand rubbing at her sore neck.

“I do not need to be clean to be healed.” He told her sternly.

She rolled her dark blue eyes, counting for patience.

“I know that. However, I am not touching you while you’re all gross. Besides, it will be easier to see what needs the most attention.”

He stared hard at her, and she flung up her hands in exasperation before setting out for the stream, muttering uncharitable things about youkai, males, idiots and stubborn mules in general.

Funny how all four categories seemed interchangeable.
After a few seconds, she heard him behind her, walking slowly.
She ached to loop her arm around his waist and help him walk, but she knew that his pride, such as it was, was already bruised by having to accept aid from her. He would not appreciate the gesture.
She deliberately slowed her pace; plucking at herbs and flowers she saw that she really did need, trying her best to help him without hurting his pride.
Men were such babies when it came to their pride.
They finally reached the tranquil stream, which flowed smoothly over smooth, rounded rocks. The banks were gently sloping and dusted with patches of fragrant flowers on lush, green grass. An arched fish leapt from the shimmering waters, diving back in with a bubbly splash, sending a fine spray of water onto her shoes.
She set down her flora and turned to her hostile patient, folded her arms and stared at him.
He stared back at her, eyes flashing.

“Sit down, please. It will be easier to reach all of your wounds if you sit.” She told him.

To her surprise, with no expression but the slight twitch of an eyebrow, he sank gracefully to the grass, legs folded under him.
She knelt next to him, surveying the damage.
His silk haori was slashed in many places in the front, with corresponding cuts in his skin. His blood had stained it mostly red, with only several spots of white peeking through. She thought she saw a pink piece, but quickly dismissed it as a fading stain.
She grasped a piece of the shredded silk, looking at him questioningly.
At his nod, she ripped it free from the rest of the haori, rose and dipped it into the cool waters of the stream.

“Could you take off your haori? It will be easier to clean your wounds.” She asked, blushing slightly.

He smirked slightly at her, before stripping it off. His entire body was red and brown, and she could see no distinguishing marks.

“What is your name?” she asked conversationally, wiping gently at his arm.
He looked down at her, bemused, but did not answer.

“My name is Kagome.” She tried again, cleaning off his right arm.
She looked up at his face, and sighed. She went back to the stream, rinsing out the cloth and squeezing out the excess water.
As she took up his clean hand, something on his wrist stopped her cold.

“S-s-sesshomaru?”

A/N: Oh, like you didn't know! You did, didn't you? Anyways, next time, it's Day One, Act Two: Sesshomaru