Series: Inuyasha
Universe: Sengoku Jidai, Post-Canon
Pairing: MirSan, One-sided SessKag
Rating: PG-13 (?)
Disclaimer: Inuyasha and its characters are the intellectual property of one Rumiko Takahashi. I only make bad fanfiction about it.
Author's notes: Crack!fic that would not leave my mind.
Beauty School Dropout
888
Kagome wanted to touch it. She wanted to touch it so bad.
Night had fallen hours ago, and the full moon was high in the sky. The others had already gone to sleep, their bodies tucked away into the multitude of sleeping bags she had brought over from her time. Sango and Miroku laid next to each other, despite their earlier fight where Miroku had tried to persuade Sango about the bnefits of sharing one bedding, something about insulation and "body heat". One red cheek later, Sango had let him know exacly what she had thought of the idea. But now, asleep, holding hands, Kagome smiled to herself and wondered how long it would be before Sango eventually gave in. Next to the lovebirds slept Rin and Shippo, sharing one multi-colored sleeping bag and dozing happily away. Sometimes Rin would whimper in her sleep, a bad dream, and Shippo would press closer until she calmed down and a smile settled back into her features.
Inuyasha had refused his, like always, but even from her spot on the ground Kagome could tell the young man was fast asleep. Unusual for the half-demon but it had been a long day of fighting and rest was well-deserved. And although he dare not admit it, the fact that his older brother had now joined the group had allowed Inuyasha to rest more easily at night, knowing there would be strong ally to help them out in case of an attack.
So that only left the two of them.
Pretending to yawn, Kagome glanced at the white-haired demon from across the campfire. He was standing off to a distance, as always, looking up to the stars and pretending that he was not travelling with them. He had said he was only doing it to defeat Naraku, and that having greater numbers would level the playing field when the final battle arrived. But the battle had come and gone, the jewel had been destroyed and still he remained.
Hair as white as the first drop of snow was cast in lovely golds and oranges as the fire's reflection danced across its length. The moon overhead added an extra element of mystery, and his hair seemed to positively glow under the night's sky. He looked every bit the ethereal creature of legend that he was, and Kagome sighed deeply, her chest squeezing tightly. Fantasy after fantasy had corrupted her nightly dreams and waking moments as he yearned to touch those beautiful long tresses. Perhaps it was some deep psychological kink she had not known she had, or maybe it was one of those intangible girlish impulses that drove her to it. But one thing she knew for sure - Kagome wanted it. She would do anything to touch his hair.
His eyes shot to her, and Kagome jumped, paranoid that he had somehow read her thoughts.
He was looking at her strangely, his eyes a deep ochre from the fire. The color made him seem less alien than the bright yellow that appeared during daylight, and Kagome wondered if she could fall into them forever. And then, he was walking towards her, and Kagome's heart lurched to her throat.
Sesshoumaru never approached her.
It wasn't that he was unkind. But besides engaging together in battle, he never had a reason to speak to the young time-traveler. He had spoken more to Miroku, and even Sango, than he had to Kagome, and the girl had thought that perhaps he still harbored feelings of resentment over his lost limb. Kagome cringed, remembering it as not her shiniest moment in their relationship.
Suddenly, Sesshoumaru was standing right in front of her, his tall figure looming over her sleeping bag.
Kagome coughed, nervously, and smiled up at him from her seat. "Umm…yes?" she asked, trying to sound bright and cheerful.
Sesshoumaru raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, and Kagome's heart fluttered erratically in her ribcage. She was sure he could hear it, and her thought was confirmed when the shadow of a smirk flashed lightning-fast across his features before disappearing. But Kagome had no time to decipher the expression, because suddenly he bent at the waist and his cheek was pressed against hers. Kagome's body froze, blood pumping so loud in her eardrums she almost missed what he said next.
"I will allow you to touch my hair…"he rumbled, his breath tickling the sensitive shell of her ear as he leaned down to her, "if I may touch yours."
"Oh." Kagome breathed, because really there was nothing else to be said as the demon leaned back again, his eyes intent and bright.
Oh.
FUCK.
So Kagome had said that out loud. Son of a bitch.
Sesshoumaru dropped into a graceful crouch in front of her, and Kagome was not sure what was warmer: the heat emanating from the firewood she had set up for the encampment or the suddenly very large and broad body leaning closer to her. Or perhaps it was all the blood that had rushed from her body to her face at being caught saying something so fucking embarrassing.
His hand lifted and began a treacherously slow journey upwards, until it reached her face, fingers ghosting across her cheek, grazing the tip of her ear and leaving the skin there scorching. When did her ear become connected to her libido, she wondered idly as she felt something warm and delightful stir low in her belly. His fingers found the edge of the hair tie that she had used to pull her hair into a tight ponytail, and they paused, for a beat. And then Kagome thought she felt the slightest of pulls, and she cried out –
A flash of white, and suddenly his sharp nails had sliced through the constrictive accessory and her hair fell in lush tresses around her shoulders in a cloud of midnight black.
Sesshoumaru hummed in the back of his throat, contemplative, and he was close enough that the vibrations of it echoed inside Kagome's suddenly hallow chest. He tilted his head, the picture of thoughtful consideration, and one dangerously clawed nail grabbed a curl of hair and brought it close to his face for inspection. As he leaned closer to her, forgoing any sense of personal space, Kagome could see with perfect clarity his facial tattoos, counting four perfect pink stripes and a half-moon. The demon lord was so close that, had she wanted to, she could have traced them with her tongue.
The sudden erotic thought alarmed her, and she pursed her lips tight to stop her tongue from getting any ideas.
Suddenly, as if hearing her thoughts, his eyes shot up from the hair tangled in his claws to her blue eyes.
Kagome held her breath.
And then Sesshoumaru opened his mouth, plush lips sinfully near and with a voice that rivaled rich velvet, whispered:
"Teach me how to French-braid."
Of all the unsexy things that Sesshoumaru could have said, this was arguably not the top one, but fairly close.
"Huh?" Kagome said intelligently, blinking the mist away.
Sesshoumaru was still too close, but gone was the sudden tension Kagome had felt and, with a downcast heart, she realized he had not been trying to seduce her – although it had worked marvelously. "French-braid, Miko. I require your teachings in order to learn this."
Kagome was still trying to claw herself out of the pit of lust she had prematurely jumped in, so one could forgive her for being a bit slow in understanding why the Lord of the Western Lands suddenly had a raging desire to learn the intricacies of hair styling.
Less eloquently, she asked, "Why?".
Sesshoumaru sighed, seeming annoyed with her questions and even himself for his sudden predicament. "Rin has been asking me to do one since she was last in your care and you braided her hair in that fashion. I confess to not being privy to the delicate art of this European trend, and as such, wish to learn how to master it swiftly and effectively. Of course, Rin does not know this." He leveled a steady glare at Kagome, as if to tell her that Rin should not find out about his lack of knowledge on this subject either.
Kagome smiled inwardly. In Rin's impressionable eyes, Sesshoumaru knew everything. And despite showing that he did not care, Sesshoumaru was very careful to keep that reputation intact for the one creature in this world that did not fear him and, dare she say, even loved him. So, Kagome thought amused, Sesshoumaru wanted to impress his little girl with a new hairstyle. If that wasn't the cutest thing Kagome had ever heard, she didn't know what was. Now, Kagome wasn't a beauty guru by any stretch of the imagination, but she had seen enough hair tutorials on MuuTube to know how to do the most basic of braids, even something as simple (to her) as a French Braid. If becoming a hair professional in Sesshoumaru's eyes meant that she could get closer to her goal of touching his hair, then Kagome was all for it.
Sighing at the loss of the sudden heat that had possessed her and resigning herself to the fact that Sesshoumaru may well never see her as anything other than his brother's "miko", Kagome smiled kindly at the inquisitive demon still waiting expectantly for her answer.
"I would love to teach you how to French braid, Sesshoumaru. On one condition."
Sesshoumaru narrowed his yellow eyes suspiciously at the raven. "And what is that, miko?"
Kagome noted he has still playing with the ends of her hair.
Feeling bold and foolish, the young woman reached out and grabbed a tendril of white silver hair. She swallowed back a sigh, marveling out how incredibly silky it felt between her fingers, imagining how it would feel cascading down her bare arms.
She smiled impishly at the demon.
"Call me 'Kagome-sensei'."
AN: Slight fluffy-tension. Hope you like!