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Blank	By : Crescentgray Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > Sessh?maru/Kagome > Sessh?maru/Kagome Views: 19853 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Disclaimer: I don�t own Inuyasha.

Blank : Chapter One � Upon
Waking

Consciousness came in slow layers,
almost like floating upwards through mud.

First, she became vaguely aware of
her body.� It hurt.� Air was drawn in
through the nose and rasped down a raw throat into lungs that protested every tiny
expansion.� On top of that, every
movement caused by her breath was a reminder that, while her lungs felt burned,
seared almost, her ribs were hardly in better shape.� It was as if a great hand had squeezed her
upper body with violent force while she had been breathing fire.� A part of her knew she didn�t normally breathe
fire, which was probably why her lungs hurt, but there was something about
being squeezed by giant hands that didn�t strike her as being the least bit
unusual, even if she wasn�t awake enough to remember this particular hand.

There were many faint throbbings elsewhere, from her left ankle to the side of
her face, and there was a sharp and bright pain that started on top of her
right shoulder that raked halfway down her back.� However, the young woman was not awake enough
yet to question her injuries.� They
simply were.

Next, she became aware of the
scents.� Her nostrils flared slightly as
a pungent, almost minty smell assailed her, and beneath that, the scent of
cleanliness, and beneath that, the smell of fresh blood that had scabbed over
recently.� Vaguely, she wondered why
these scents were so familiar to her, then came to the conclusion that with her
body feeling the way it did and these scents stirring recognition in her, she
probably led a very interesting, eventful life.

A sound drifted across her
consciousness, so she concentrated on that, now feeling as if she were swimming
upward through mud, instead of just floating passively to the surface.� She didn�t wonder what it was about her that
insisted that she struggle instead of just be, but she knew, with a crystalline
clarity, that this was simply the way she was.�
Even wracked with pain, mostly insensible, she still fought.

It was the soft, distant twittering
of birds.� Suddenly, two sensations
struck her simultaneously, with a third close on their heels.� First, she heard a soft, snuffling breath,
almost a snore, and at the same time she became aware of sunlight warming her
skin.� A few moments later, she realized
she could hear another breath, this one low and almost silent.�

She pondered these sounds for a
moment.� The sun was up, and yet she was
almost positive that two people were sleeping near her. �One for sure; she would recognize the snuffles
of a sleeping child anywhere.� Her brain
paused over this little bit of information, chewing it slowly in slight confusion.� She didn�t know who it was, but she was
struck with a sure certainty that a child slept near her.� There was something intensely familiar about
them, those little unrestrained snorts of innocent slumber.

She could almost feel herself
straining to catch the sound of the other�s breath, though she wasn�t close
enough to consciousness to move yet.� Easily,
she slipped into focus, blocking out all sounds except the sound of�his?� her? breath, deep and even and quiet, as if
there was nothing in the world of pain.�
She knew differently.� She was
surrounded by pain, physical pain at least, but she felt curiously calm, almost
serene.� Perhaps her breathing friend
understood this peaceful place.

And then, even though she was still
concentrating on the breathing, something else trilled across her
awareness.� Power.� Her own breath caught for a moment in
surprise.� It wasn�t just his power she
felt (and yes, it was a he, her quietly breathing companion, she could feel the
sheer, raw maleness of him threading throughout his aura).� She also felt�her own.� Somewhere, so deep inside of her that it had
no physical center, power bubbled up, welled and surged within her.� She was sure she had never known this
sensation before, filled to overflowing with this pure, untainted light,
throbbing, humming with power, almost as strong as his.� Perhaps it was as strong as his.� It was
close, close, close, so close that she couldn�t quite tell who held the greater
power.

She heard his sharp, almost
startled intake of breath, and knew with every fiber of her being that he was
one who did not startle easily.

The young woman�s eyes snapped
open.

Rather, one of them snapped
open.� Her left eye was swollen shut, but
whether by happenstance or design, her breathing companions had chosen to be to
her right, where she would easily be able to see them.� Her dark blue eye took them in in an instant
� the girl was sleeping, lying sprawled on her back in a corner, open,
trusting, defenseless.� Her dark hair was
unruly and wild around her face, mostly pulled free from the tie that struggled
vainly to keep it in a simple, ordered ponytail on the side of her head.� She was perhaps eight, perhaps nine, certainly
no older than ten.� She lay barefoot and
relaxed in a checkered orange and white kimono, and a small, sweet smile graced
her features.

The young woman turned her
attention unhurriedly to the man.� No, she
corrected herself; he was male, but no man.�
He was sitting comfortably on the polished wooden floor, dressed all in
white (what in the world is that fluffy
thing? she mused) save for the red flower patterns marking his house.� One clawed hand rested on his knee, but his
left arm was missing.� He was clearly a
noble, that much was plain to see.�
Although he wore no armor, it occurred to her that he should.�
He was so clearly a warrior, a powerful one at that, that he seemed
almost�incomplete without armor and weapons.

That thought fled her mind as her
eye came to rest on his face.� No, she
decided, she�d been wrong.� This was a
male who needed nothing to complete him.�
His aura, his power pressed against her own, and she had to suppress a
shiver, knowing that this was one creature that she could never show weakness
to.� She also knew that, with her
agonized body, even a little shiver would hurt like hell.

He was breathtakingly beautiful,
she noted almost clinically.� From the
long, thick sweep of his silver hair, the impossibly high cheekbones marked by
two slashing stripes, the high smooth forehead with the curious crescent moon
mark, his pale, pale skin, and eyes that glittered at her like molten gold �
oh, he was certainly beautiful.�
Alien.� Powerful.� Unknown.�
His eyebrows were drawn slightly together, his perfect lips pursed ever
so lightly in a small frown, and she saw emotions flicker through his eyes �
curiosity, surprise, and just a hint of guarded wariness.� She didn�t think he knew that she could read
his eyes so clearly.� Something about him
suggested to her that most people could not.�
Perhaps no one before her had ever been able to read his eyes so well.

They gazed at each other for
several minutes, and slowly she felt herself beginning to relax.� While he was no friend, she instinctively
knew he meant her no harm; at least, not right now. �While she supposed she should feel a little
embarrassed to be in such bad shape before this creature of beauty, she
actually didn�t mind.� The inner peace
that suffused her whole being kept her calm.�
Plus, she�d apparently had a rough time of it recently, even if she
didn�t remember exactly what had happened to her.� Actually, now that she thought about it�

Her own eyebrows drew together, and
she felt a ripple splash across her serenity.�
Her open eye unfocused for a moment on the male before her as she
contemplated this new, somewhat disturbing development.� His voice snapped her back to him as he said
one word, low and soft and rich and full, in a pitch and tone that was enough
to get any normal girl�s heart beating just a bit faster.� He said his word, identifying her, naming
her, greeting her.

�Miko.�

She smiled slightly, barely wincing
at her split lower lip.� After all, what
was one more little discomfort in the face of the rest of her pain?� She smiled at her host, for she knew now
that�s who he was, trying to thank him for his hospitality with her eyes and
smile.

But thanks were not the words that
passed her lips in a rough, unrecognizable voice.� She hadn�t expected to sound like that, but
she assumed that her normal voice would return as she healed.

�Excuse me,� she said.� �Who exactly are you?�

***

They stared at each other for
several long moments before his eyes narrowed in annoyance.� A sudden realization hit � he knew her.� She was supposed to know him.� She was not a nameless miko he had picked up
somewhere, but someone that he knew.� He
thought she was toying with him, having fun at his expense.� What were they to each other?� Companions?�
Lovers?� Allies?� Friends?�
She settled on allies after a split second of debate � somehow, she didn�t
think she and this cold male were any closer than that.

It really was quite remarkable how
much his eyes betrayed, she decided.� She
also decided, in that instant, that this was something she should not let him
know about.� She had a feeling they were
reluctant allies, at best.� At
worst�well, at least he hadn�t ripped her throat out with his claws.� In fact, it seemed she was quite well taken
care of in his care, given her current condition.� She was struck, as well, by the sudden
certainty that he had not done this to her.�
Allies, then, she decided
again.� But not fully trusting ones.�
No, with his eyes narrowed and his almost overwhelming power pushing up
tightly (intimately, her brain
supplied helpfully) against hers, he was not to be trusted.

He was regarding her with such cool
annoyance that she felt her calm ripple again, and something (irritation, anger, temper) unnamed rose
within her.� She did not like it, she did
not like it at all, thank you very
much.� She was confused enough without
having some extraordinarily beautiful (youkai,
her brain whispered) demon eyeing her as if she were a cockroach he had
accidentally stepped on.� A very small cockroach.� Part of her wondered if he even walked at all
� in a way, he was too pretty to walk, bound by gravity like everyone
else.� An unbidden picture came to her
mind, of him with teeny tiny gossamer fairy wings sprouting from his back, fluttering
furiously to keep his (he�s tall, she
idle noted) feet from ever having to touch the ground.� She squelched the image ruthlessly � she may
not know who she was, but apparently, she was just a little bit silly.� Still, he was a noble, and she was his guest,
so she turned herself over to unknown, unremembered but obviously well
practiced habits.� She had been taught to
be polite, it seemed.

�I�m sorry,� she croaked, her smile
tight but apologetic.� �I really�I
can�t��

One eyebrow quirked upward slowly
as she struggled with her words, and that unnamed feeling rose within her
again, making her apologies taste bitter in her mouth.� Suddenly, she realized he was really pissing her off, but she was in no
position to fight if it came to it.� She
paused a moment, collecting her thoughts, shoving down the unnamed emotion and
regaining her tranquility.

�I can�t remember anything.�

He blinked once, slowly, at her
statement.� The annoyance remained, but
curiosity flickered a bit as well in his eyes, and she felt the tense knot in
her stomach uncoiling.� It wasn�t the
most auspicious beginning, but it could have been worse.� Much
worse, her brain amended.� At least
she discovered, quite quickly, that she had a temper.� As well as the will to suppress it.

�Pity that you remember how to
speak,� he replied with a smirk.�

Her tranquility went right out the
window.

As a small little part of her brain
jumped out the window with outstretched fingers, reaching, reaching for that
calm, desperately hoping to catch it before she opened her mouth again, her
mouth opened again.

�Don�t be such an idiot,� she hissed, her tone implying that she doubted he
could manage it.� �You know very well
that�s not what I meant.�

Again he blinked as both eyebrows
decided to become rather more acquainted with his forehead.� She felt savagely triumphant � she sensed
that he was rarely shocked, and she had already surprised him least twice
today.� Maybe more, she whispered to herself.� Maybe I
shocked him all morning before I lost my memory.� Another unbidden image rose in her mind, of
her walking across a heavily carpeted floor to build up a static charge, then
sneaking up behind him and goosing him.�
In the vision, his hair stood up nicely on end.�

She almost started to grin at that,
but the pain in her face brought her up short.�
She also realized that she couldn�t remember what she looked like, and
that was disturbing enough to douse her with a cold splash of reality.� That was also right about the time that her tranquility
hit the ground outside her mental window, and that little piece of her that had
jumped after it slammed into the ground as well.� Not too
bright, that little piece said snidely.�
Nope, not too bright at all.

Another part of her brain, a much
larger part, was wondering how in the world she could know about such things as
carpet and static electricity and the word kimono, for heaven�s sake, when she
couldn�t remember one thing about herself, not even what she looked like.� Not her name, not her past, nothing � it was
as if she had sprung into existence when she first began gaining consciousness,
fully formed and with all the knowledge she needed of the world but with no
history of her own.� Another tiny part of
her brain was singing something about a yellow submarine in an almost hysterical
fashion.� She felt his power pushing
against her own, trying to assert his dominance over her.� His clawed hand tightened imperceptibly on
his knee, and suddenly that singing part of her brain got a lot louder.

And then, her power bubbled up in
her again, and she pushed, ever so tentatively, back.� And she felt�well, he certainly didn�t give
at all, but she suddenly wondered if she could
make his power give, if she pushed a lot harder.� His nostrils flared slightly as his eyes
narrowed again, and (thank kami) that
damn song turned abruptly off.� He wasn�t
scared of her, not by a long shot, but that wary look was back in his eyes and
her tranquility returned full force.

�I wonder�� he mused aloud.� He eyed her carefully.� Well,
she thought, I have graduated from a tiny
cockroach to a very unusual, possibly dangerous insect.� Or maybe even a small reptile, if I�m lucky.

�I am Sesshoumaru, Lord of the
Western Lands,� he said after a moment with a bored look on his face.

Suddenly, the young woman felt
very, very guilty.� This was her host, her
ally (reluctant, her brain added) and
as far as she could tell, he had cared for her better than she could have asked
for.� And in return, she let herself get
angry (he pushed your buttons on purpose!
a part of her insisted), and then she�d been downright rude.� Her anger evaporated, and suddenly she simply
felt extremely tired.� Maybe if he weren�t so damn pretty, he wouldn�t
be so irritating, she mused.

�Forgive me, Sesshoumaru-sama,� she
croaked.� Maybe I should have gone with amphibian over reptile, she
thought.� I sound like a frog.� �I
spoke out of turn.�

Muted surprise flashed through his
eyes again, and she paused.� Was�was he
not used to such courtesy from her?�
Again, she wondered about the nature of their relationship.� Maybe he was used to the feisty part of her
that had reared its head just a bit earlier.�
That seemed to be the case,
but she couldn�t help but think that too much feistiness around this one would
get a girl dead.

He inclined his head ever so
slightly, and she took it to mean that her apology was accepted.� Phew!

She smiled up at him again, tasting
a bit of fresh blood from her split lip.�
�I�m afraid I can�t remember my name, Sesshoumaru-sama,� she said.

He pursed his lips ever so slightly
at that, frowning at her.� They gazed at
each other for several long moments before a loud snore, cut abruptly short,
drew both of their attention to the sleeping girl.� She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, and then
shrieked with delight.

�Kagome-nee-chan!�
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