Tumblr prompt: "Can you walk?" "I'm bleeding."
AN: Takes place in early canon. Be prepared to see a bunch of short oneshots with an 'enemies to lovers' vibe, folks!
No smut - rating is for the site due the language and injury.
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It wasn’t every day Sesshoumaru found himself staring down at his brother’s wench laying in a bloodied heap at the bottom of a ditch.
After quickly assessing her with a cursory glance and inhale, he realised she was in fact not dead and very much alive judging by the glare she sent his way, face smeared with dirt.
He arched a brow.
How the tables turned. He could just leave the bratty young woman to die. She had nothing to do with him- and had practically been Inuyasha’s cheerleader during the day he’d cleaved Sesshoumaru’s arm off.
Fierce blue eyes narrowed, body shaking. She tried to rise, crumpled form unable to move from the inch deep murky waters and slick mud. Crimson slashed across her shoulder and stomach, marring her strange white and green garments.
Sesshoumaru’s pale lips curved, coldly amused by her struggles. Let her writhe in the dirt some more.
Let her feel a mere sliver of the humiliation he’d felt.
“If you’re j-just going to watch me die- get lost,” she rasped.
“Is that any way to speak to your possible saviour?” Sesshoumaru’s velvety baritone purred.
Kagome gave a weak laugh, wincing soon after, “hilarious,” she tried rolling onto her side, the action sluggish, progress slow.
Apathetic golden eyes bore down on the miko, vaguely curious as to how she’d met such a fate. “Perhaps I may be inclined to help, if…”
“I’m- hah- not going to do something stupid like snatch Tetusaiga from Inuyasha and give it to you,” Kagome quivered, pressing a palm to her stomach. Pale skin gained a ghostly pallor, once lovely black hair sodden with dirty water.
Sesshoumaru tilted his head to consider her loftily from his position, savouring every flinch as a means of petty revenge. It wasn’t like her agony could rival that of his phantom limb pain that he endured every damn night. “That is not it. I was merely going to suggest...begging goes a long way, miko.”
A brief look of horror crossed her features, before she snarled, forcibly rolling onto her side with renewed vigour and resting a hand on the steep incline, as though meaning to drag herself up alone. “As if I would! Y-you’re such an asshole!” she panted, groaning and making a valiant effort of dragging her body onto the grassy verge- but it proved too slippy, making her slide back down.
“Can you walk?” he asked pointedly.
“I’m bleeding,” she hissed. “Of course I can’t, s-smart ass. But I’ll drag myself if I have to,” Kagome panted with scratchy sounding breaths, gripping a fistful of wet grass and crawling on her belly. She gave a low, breathy groan.
Sesshoumaru’s insides stirred with heat. Intrigue shook to life. What a strange, strong little slip of woman. Naïve of course, but effort should be applauded no matter how in vain it all was.
His nostrils flared. Blood was soaking through her uniform onto Kagome’s hand where it cradled her stomach. If she continued, she would likely…
He sighed, stepping off the ledge easily. Silver hair danced behind him as he drifted down, landing beside her gently as though gravity was nothing, mud caking flawless black boots.
Kagome stiffened, warily frowning up at him. The blue of her eyes blazed so fierce and bright they could put many demonic gazes to shame.
“You cannot survive without aid,” he evenly informed her. “But I am not going to assist you out of the goodness of my heart- only a fool would do so,” Sesshoumaru leaned over her, covering the miko’s body in shadow like the overcast skies looming above.
“Beg me, miko.”
Kagome sneered, matted hair sticking to a cut cheek. Her breathing was becoming thin, and she likely understood the futility of her struggles, gaze flitting to the high verge. She hissed out a curse, looking at him with palpable hatred.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Hm? I did not quite catch that,” Sesshoumaru hummed.
“Please save me, Sesshoumaru!” she snapped, growling. “I’m a weak, pathetic mess who got separated from her group, mugged by bandits and left in a damn ditch to die!- There! Is that what you wanted to hear?”
A strong arm shot down, sliding around Kagome’s waist and ripping her from the sodden earth’s clutches, dirtying his hakimono. She groaned with pain but bore it well enough, shuddering as mokomoko wrapped around her, cradling the miko close and supporting her legs.
With a spring of bent knees, Sesshoumaru glided into the air. “That was not so very terrible, was it?” soft words caressed her ear.
Kagome weakly rested against him, fanning hot, laboured breaths against his neck. He repressed a shudder, a little disconcerted by his reaction.
“My hero,” she croaked, forehead pressing against his collarbone. It felt feverishly hot. For a long time, neither spoke. Fresh breezes fanned over them, drying the mud and encrusting it onto clothes and skin. Sesshoumaru figured she’d passed out from blood loss until she stirred. “F-for what it’s worth,” Kagome’s voice rasped- barely a whisper now, “I was kind of horrified the day your arm was cut off. We were defending ourselves- but it still didn’t sit right with me. I guess I’m sorry it had to happen.”
Saying such a thing was ridiculous. They were enemies. She and Inuyasha had merely fought against him as adversaries should. Wounds or battle scars were a natural consequence of fighting that every warrior accepted before they began a fight.
Nonetheless, his stinging, bruised ego that would likely never be repaired after suffering such a huge loss felt oddly quelled by her words. Appreciative.
Sesshoumaru said nothing, and when Kagome fell unconscious, he did little more than adjust voluminous furs around her broken body.
---
Kagome awoke hours later in Kaede’s hut, temples pounding, friends crowded around her, voicing their concerns- or chewing her out for getting separated from them in Inuyasha’s case.
“Still, it coulda been a lot worse,” he grunted, scratching his nose. “Luckily you were pretty much fine...dunno how you got here though,” thick brows pulled down.
“Fine?” she echoed, sitting up and automatically reaching for her wounds. “Fine? Inuyasha my stomach was practically cut open! And my shoulder was-”
Kagome’s hands stilled. Flawless smooth skin met shaking palms. Not one cut lay upon her body.
Her friend blinked, triangular ears pricking, sensing her distress. “The hell is it?”
“You were covered in mud, Kagome,” Shippo helpfully supplied. “But just passed out. We’re all glad you’re alright,” he shot a look at Inuyasha, who grumbled.
The miko was barely listening, fingers stroking over warm, pale skin. Her heartbeat drummed wildly, sweat perspiring along her brow.
She didn’t dare voice her confused thoughts aloud, visualising a certain sword resting by the haughty, cruel Daiyoukai’s hip.
Kagome teeth gnashed, lips pressing together. Tension slowly released from her body, but she quietly continued to reel for the rest of the day and long into the weeks after.
The truth of what had happened was only known to two- apparent in Sesshoumaru’s citrine eyes which caught and held her captive during their next encounter. It remained unspoken, but carefully, imperceptibly, Kagome gave the barest incline of her head in thanks.
Sesshoumaru’s lips barely quirked at the edges in response.
End