Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Waiting on a Wish	By : Quillwing717 Category: InuYasha > General Views: 42891 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N:
Just a little fair warning for anyone paying attention. I often go
back and do a slight overhaul to the storyline of a WIP--changing a
few story elements, patching up stuff I’m unhappy with. That
also means some updating of earlier chapters, so you might get
multiple e-mail notices if you’re on the notify list. So sorry
if I start cluttering up your inboxes. I’m just trying to get
it as perfect as possible. (OCD, as one reviewer said ^_^) I really
appreciate that you’re still reading, even with my random
sporadicness.

Her
not-so-royal absentmindedness, ~Quill

CHAPTER
4

The
next morning, InuYasha made the mistake of showing up for his
bi-weekly training sessions with Sango. They’d taken up the
practice after their first couple of hunts together, and it was one
they both enjoyed. The dojo they practiced in belonged to her family,
and was used exclusively for the training of the hunters from the
Yanagimoto family. It was a modest, well-equipped, traditional
building that Sango had the run of whenever she wanted.

He
arrived earlier than usual, so he decided to run through a few
routine exercises to warm up while he waited for her to show. Sango’s
skill as a fighter surpassed everyone else in her family. Sparring
with her was always a challenge, and he reveled in the chance that it
gave him to stretch his muscles.

Mid-tumble,
his nose warned him that Miroku had entered the room. Dropping
lightly to his feet, he walked over to his friend, who stood leaning
against a bare wooden wall, arms folded, observing InuYasha
carefully. InuYasha‘s eyes narrowed at his meaningful smirk.

“What
the hell is your problem, monk?”

Miroku
raised his brows in mock surprise. “My problem? I
have no problems. What about you, InuYasha? Did you have any
problems last night?”

“What?”

Miroku
straightened and stepped away from him, his look one of exaggerated
pity. “You should have stayed home today. It was nice
knowing you, my friend.”

Sango
was in the room as well.

Something
hit the back of his neck with incredible force, knocking him forward
to skid several feet across the ground. He recovered quickly,
catching himself on one hand and back flipping to land lightly on his
feet. He found himself facing Sango.

A very pissed Sango. In full battle gear. With her face mask on.

Oh….
Fuck.

“What
the hell did I do?”

Deep
brown eyes glared at him over her mask. Instead of replying, she
attacked him, charging him head on. He dodged to the side to avoid
her, but she anticipated, drawing her katana and ramming his ribs
with the flat of the blade, using his momentum to add force. He
landed in a crouch, huffing slightly at the impact.

Now
he wished he hadn’t stripped down to his sweatpants. That had
hurt. Damn, that girl is stronger than she should be. What the
hell had prompted her to pull her weapon without warning? They rarely
used weapons to spar -- he hadn’t even brought Tetsusaiga. He
supposed he should be thanking the gods she didn’t have
Hiraikotsu.

He
blocked a kick and several forceful punches, flipping again to avoid
another sweep with her sword -- only to have to leap into the air to
avoid another ramming when she reversed directions. He landed several
feet away from her, grinding his teeth. She wanted a fight? Fine.
That’s what he’d come for anyway.

Using
his youkai-derived agility, he took off, running fast, skimming along
the walls briefly, using them to flip behind her. He landed with one
arm around her throat, the other securing her weapon hand. A twist,
and the katana dropped to the ground. “Sango, what…the
fuck…is your problem?”

Across
the room, Miroku frowned and stepped forward, fracturing InuYasha’s
attention for a moment. The hanyou knew his friend well, had fought
side-by-side with him numerous times. He knew that behind his gentle,
easy-going charm lay one impressive hell of a fighter, and his
spiritual power as a monk was nothing to scoff at. These days,
nothing got Miroku pissed like his beloved Sango in any kind of
trouble--even trouble that she’d instigated. Damn it….
What the hell am I supposed to do?

Sango
twisted and dropped, freeing herself and rolling to her feet, still
glaring silently at InuYasha. She charged, coming in low, and they
exchanged direct blows, blocking and kicking and dodging. Slightly
winded, he grabbed her arm and flipped her into the air, knowing she
was nimble enough to land on her feet. She twisted mid-air, flinging
several pellets into the floor.

They
exploded, gray smoke filling the room quickly.

“Damn!”
InuYasha jumped back, trying to escape the plumes, hands clapping
over his nose. It didn’t help, the revolting aroma penetrated
everything, and his eyes immediately watered in agony.

“You…BITCH.”
He couldn’t see, and the gas overwhelmed his senses, leaving
him doubled over, fighting for consciousness.

A
kick to his gut sent him out of the cloud of gas and into a clear
corner of the room. He staggered, sitting on the floor because his
legs wouldn’t support him, shaking his head. “What the
fuck are you doing, Sango!” He was having a hard time
breathing as wisps of the gas began to penetrate the corners of the
room.

Hands
grabbed at his shoulders and rammed him into the wall behind him.
“InuYasha, I’d just like you to know that Kagome is my
closest, dearest friend. And if you play with her
emotions or hurt her in any way, I will hunt you down and rip your
lungs out through your nose. Are we clear?” Sango’s voice
was quiet, moderate--lethal, for anyone who knew her.

“WHAT!
You threw that fucking shit at me because of Kagome?”
He still couldn’t see, godsdammit! His palm
pressed tighter over his nose. The stench…the gas burning into
his eyes…like fucking hell would he lose consciousness.

“That
fucking shit will be the least of your problems if you do
anything to upset my best friend after she so kindly saved your life
for you.”

“Yeah,
yeah -- I got it! Just get rid of that shit!” Whatever that gas
was, it was specifically designed to drop kick the hell out of him.
And it worked. He was barely functional.

FUCK.

“Good.”
He felt more than saw Sango straighten and walk away. He heard the
slight pop of another pellet, and the terrible smell began to
dissipate rapidly. The effects would wear on for a while, he was
sure, but at least it was gone for now. He would have to ask Sango
what the hell she put in those pellets. They’d never had this
effect on him before.

Coughing
slightly, he concentrated on keeping the contents of his stomach.
Footsteps sounded nearby. Heavier tread. InuYasha turned his head and
squinted up at what had to be Miroku. He cursed again, viciously. He
felt worse than blind without his nose.

“Thanks
for the warning, monk,” he rasped.

Miroku’s
blurred figure shook its head sadly. “Self-preservation,
InuYasha. She’d have done the same thing to me if I had
warned you.”

“Feh!
Except you would have enjoyed it.” Red-shot amber eyes
narrowed, attempting to see more clearly. “Shit. What the hell
was in that gas, Miroku? I can barely see, and I can’t smell
anything!”

The
monk crouched down next to the debilitated hanyou, and peered at him
critically. “It’s something new she and her father have
been working on -- for youkai with particularly highly refined
senses. Apparently, it works very well. Sango’s father will be
pleased. Now all they need is something with noise.”

InuYasha
cringed, flattening his ears at the thought. He couldn’t see
him, but he swung at the monk anyway, absolutely disgusted when he
didn’t even connect. “Do I look like a lab
rat to you?!”

“Actually,
at the moment you look quite pitiful.”

“Fuck
you.” Another quick shake of his head, and InuYasha looked at
Miroku again. This time he could make out hazy features. “What
in the hell has Sango so mad, anyway?”

Miroku
sighed patiently. “Weren’t you listening? Sango’s
concerned about your interest in Kagome. She…er…got a
call last night -- or, should I say, early this morning.”

InuYasha
fell silent, absorbing that end statement. “Fuck.”

“Apparently
not, from what I heard while they were talking.”

He
scowled. “Eavesdropping again, pervert? Figures.” He
blinked as the monk’s face slowly came into focus, grateful
that his faculties seemed to be returning to him fairly quickly,
although his sense of smell was still mostly numb. He glared at Sango
as she returned, her mask now hanging from a strap on her neck, the
room clear of smoke. “You couldn’t just say
something? You had to use that shit on me?”

Sango
appeared unconcerned as she studied him carefully. “You don’t
understand logical thought patterns. Violence -- now that you
understand. I just wanted to make a point that you would remember.”
She frowned. “Are the effects wearing off already?”

“Forget
your stupid experiments!”

“Fine.
What the hell are you doing with Kagome?”

“That’s
none of your business!”

“She’s
my best friend. That makes it my business. So does her calling me at
some gods-awful hour to ask me about sex!”

White
ears twitched.

A
strange look flashed over his face--one neither of them had seen
before, and it slipped away so fast that neither had time to identify
it. He looked at his feet, and his hair fell forward, obscuring his
face. “You don’t understand. You can’t. I’m
just…trying to protect her.”

“By
seducing her?”

Growling,
he shot to his feet. “Another thing that’s none of your
business.”

“InuYasha,
you can’t just expect her to fall into bed with you--”

He
growled again, biting out his words through clenched teeth. “Stay.
The fuck. Out of it.” He stalked off towards the corner where
his stuff still lay in a heap. He shrugged into his discarded tee and
jacket, and headed for the doors, rubbing at his still-numb nose,
before turning to glare at his two friends. “Damn it, don’t
worry about Kagome. I would never hurt her. Not ever.”

Sango
frowned after him. “But, InuYasha --” She stopped when
she felt Miroku’s hand on her arm. She looked at him, but he
shook his head. He watched InuYasha slam his way out the doors, his
eyes narrowed.

A
thoughtful frown carved his brows. “I’ve never seen him
act this way before.” His eyes widened slightly. “I
wonder….”

“What
should we do?” Worry filled Sango’s voice.

Miroku
muttered for a moment before shaking himself out of his thoughts.
Then he glanced at Sango, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling
her snug against him. “Do? My dearest Sango, why should we do
anything at all? Obviously, there’s more going on here than we
can see -- and unless I’m mistaken, our little hanyou friend is
quite smitten with our good doctor. After I’m inclined to
believe that the feeling is mutual.”

Sango
frowned, considering his confident, rather smug expression. “InuYasha
and Kagome? But they just met. How can --”

“Sango,
Sango. I think sometimes you forget what InuYasha is.” He shook
his head, tapping her nose gently. “He operates a little
differently from the rest of us, doesn’t he?”

“But
Kagome is already confused, Miroku.”

“I
know. And he’ll just make things worse with her by not saying
anything. Whatever he wants -- and if this is what I think it is, he
wants more than anyone realizes -- Kagome’s not going to just
give it to him, especially not after so little time. He’ll have
to fight for every inch with her.” He smiled pleasantly.
“Watching him blunder his way through this should be very
entertaining, don’t you think?”

Sango’s
expression was skeptical. “‘More than anyone
realizes’, Miroku? It looks pretty clear to me what
he wants.”

His
smile widened. “Have you ever seen him with another woman? Any
other woman?”

She
hesitated, frowning in thought, then stared at him. “No.”

His
smirk faded a bit, his dark eyes completely serious as they strayed
again to the doors. “Nether have I.”

She
followed his gaze for moment before turning back to him. “What
if Kagome doesn’t want him?”

Miroku’s
look was pointed, and instantly, the mischievous spark returned to
his gaze. “After the conversation you two had last night, can
you honestly ask that?”

Sango
blushed, but gave him a long glare. “Sex and love are not the
same, monk.”

“True.
But InuYasha’s senses go beyond the mere physical. His senses
told him something about Kagome the first time they met, and he’s
acting on them -- he probably can’t help himself. And if she
is any indicator, then his instincts are correct…as they
usually are. Has she ever reacted this way to a man before?”

Sango
hesitated. “No.” A sigh. “Still, I worry. It could
be nothing more than hormones gone wrong.”

Miroku
reached up and undid the tie of her ponytail, releasing her hair. He
watched in fascination as her dark brown locks tumbled loose, framing
her body. He was rapidly losing interest in this conversation. “Time
will tell, Sango. Besides, I have faith in Kagome. You’ve known
her much longer than I have. Do you really have any doubt in her
ability to handle InuYasha?”

A
small smile broke over Sango’s face as she took in his absorbed
countenance. “So we just watch and wait? Do nothing at all?”
His hands drew her closer. She ran her hands up his chest, feeling
muscle under cloth. She was beginning to lose interest in the
conversation as well.

“And
enjoy the show.” Miroku agreed, lowering his lips to hers. He
reached for the edges of her body suit, untying the armor and
allowing it to drop to the floor. His mouth moved along her jaw,
searching for her neck, and his hands searched for the opening of the
suit. “I believe everything will turn out satisfactory. After
all, if InuYasha does make a mistake, he has you to contend with,
doesn’t he?” He murmured between tastes. “That
alone will make him think twice about how he acts with Kagome.”
He raised his head, grinning mischievously down at her flushed
features. “I’m a very lucky man, Sango.”

She
rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh.” Her body suit loosened,
falling partially away from her chest, and Miroku took delighted
advantage, his mouth moving lower.
Sango broke away, making a
half-hearted protest. “Miroku! This is the dojo! Anyone from my
family could just walk in.”

“You
reserved this room for training today, remember?” He mumbled,
concentrating on the barely revealed curve of one breast.

Gods,
he loved it when she wore her body suit. So many delightful bits, so
well-displayed, so much more accessible. Beautiful Sango: his future
wife, the mother of his future children. “On second thought, I
hope someone does walk in. Maybe then we could get an actual wedding
date, instead of mediocre plans no one means to see through.”

The
suit fell to her waist, and he very gently traced kisses over one
breast, then the other, using only his mouth so his hands could shape
and massage her perfect bottom. He pulled tightly, shaping her
flawlessly against his hips. She moaned, her head falling back, her
arms flinging about his neck. He lifted his head to look at her, his
grin turning positively wicked. “Have you given any further
thought to my suggestion?”

She gasped and squirmed as his fingers edged their way underneath her
suit, caressing skin, shoving material out of his way. “I am
not getting pregnant, idiot. Now keep going -- I only reserved
this room till the end of the hour.”

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

InuYasha
splashed cold water onto his face and scowled at his reflection in
the mirror. His nose still wasn’t working properly, damn them
both. It worried the shit out of him that they had a weapon that
could render his strengths into weaknesses. It was something he would
have to keep in mind the next time they were hunting.

Irritated,
he reached for a towel. He’d known he couldn’t keep them
out of it, but he hadn’t expected Sango literally to attack him
with her toys. And Miroku, damn his traitorous hide, just sat back
and laughed.

It
only added to the frustration, compounding on the last few days. He
looked at his face, at the tension stressing his features. Kagome.
Already she was an obsession, haunting his thoughts; already, he was
impatient. He stared blindly at the towel in his hands.

Had
he really thought the attraction would make things easier?

Last
night….

He
closed his eyes and groaned as the memory rolled vividly through his
head, and his body tightened painfully.

He
really hadn’t meant to do anything but take her home, keep an
eye on her, make sure she was safe. It had been as much of a surprise
to him as it had been to her. But he‘d picked her up, and
something had happened. Something deep inside him had stirred with
recognition; and the longer he carried her, the stronger it had
grown. Then her scent had changed, and he’d known that, on some
level, it was affecting her too. By the time they’d reached her
home, he’d been down to reaction on a gut level.

It
had felt…amazingly right. Everything about it: the
curves of her body against him, the feel of her mouth beneath his,
her gentleness, the way she responded. Everything. He’d been
completely lost in her. But she’d spooked. The intensity of it
had scared her. He remembered the offensive scent of fear as it
sparked and rose, mixing with the intoxicating scent of her arousal,
tainting it, spoiling it. And he couldn’t do a damn thing about
it. If it hadn’t been for that damn fear….

He
growled deeply, the vibrations resonating in his chest.

But
her fear was the one thing he couldn’t overlook. He didn’t
want her afraid of him. He couldn’t stand even stand the
thought. She wasn’t supposed to fear him. How could he
protect her if she feared him?

He needed her trust, and he needed it in a way he hadn’t
anticipated. The way she‘d regarded him from her doorway, the
caution and the reserve on her face, had hit him almost painfully. He
hadn’t realized it until last night, but he’d actually
hoped that….

Balling
up the towel, he hurled it into a corner and walked out onto the
balcony.

But
trust had to be earned; he would have to work hard for it, show her
that he deserved it. He knew it. He didn’t like it, but he
acknowledged it. Still…. Now that they’d gone that far,
no way in hell was he starting over. He wouldn’t let her take
it back, wouldn’t give her the opportunity to pull away.

Restlessly,
his eyes swept across the park.

The
delay aggravated him. She belonged to him, with him. They belonged
together. He knew that she didn’t realize that yet, but that
didn’t make it any less frustrating. It didn’t really
matter that they’d just met each other. It didn’t matter
that he knew more than she did. She was his, and had been from the
moment she was born into this world.

He
exhaled slowly, scanning the horizon, a troubled frown crossing his
face. Urgency hit his gut like a blow, and he inhaled, scowling again
at the inadequacy of his injured sense of smell. His instincts
screamed at him to claim her entirely before something happened -- to
get her so involved in his life that she would never even think
of leaving. His mind warned him that pressing too hard might scare
her away.

His
fist hit the railing.

Patience
had never been his strong suit.

The
problem was how little he actually knew. He hated the uncertainty,
the lack of knowledge, the wondering. He was determined that no harm
ever come to her, but making sure she was safe while she was still
wary of him would be difficult. Waiting until she accepted him would
be nearly impossible.

He
thought back to when he’d woken up in her clinic--to the moment
he’d realized, the moment he’d recognized her scent.

He’d
waited his entire life for that scent. For her. He’d lived for
her, and fought to get stronger for her, so that he could protect her
when he found her. To do it right this time.

He
didn’t want to wait anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Waiting on a Wish