Forged Dreams by Aimee Blue
The Dog and the Tortoise
Disclaimer: I don’t own Inuyasha.
The Dog and the Tortoise
Kagome’s worry, which had been prompted by Totosai’s sudden reappearance from deep in the mountains, seemed to have been misplaced as Sesshoumaru continued to dwell within their rickety house. Coexistence was a little harder given the added influence of an obliviously antagonising old man and a cow that ate shoji screens if you left it alone for five minutes, but somehow they managed to live together in slightly pitchy harmony.
Kagome, who was gazing longingly at the beautiful pastries being shown on a television program, missed it entirely when Sesshoumaru, who had discarded his haori and under haori after his workout, entered the room. Subsequently, when he pressed a peach to her forehead, she jumped from her seat, hissing like a startled cat and glowered at him.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she demanded, clutching one hand to the neck of her kimono.
“You are immortal,” he pointed out blandly, “and it is not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant.”
Pursing her lips, her gaze dropped to his bare torso and she quickly diverted her gaze, blushing terribly.
“Your virginal embarrassment is ridiculous,” Sesshoumaru commented blandly as he wiped his face on the towel he’d slung over his shoulders.
Kagome bit her lip and tossed her hair. “Shut up.”
Sesshoumaru’s eyes widened in surprise, there was no way... was there?
Before he could even think about phrasing such an intrusive question, she’d left the room, leaving only the lingering scent of faint attraction and embarrassment behind her. Following her out of the room nimbly, he almost walked into her back when she stopped short at the sight of the suitcases piled up in the genkan.
Kagome turned startled blue eyes beseechingly upon him. “You said you weren’t going!”
She sounded so heartbroken that it startled him into silence for a time before he finally wrested control of his voice box. “I’m not.”
Kagome frowned. “Shippo doesn’t have that much stuff,” she postulated, pressing her index finger to her bottom lip musingly, “And Totosai only just got home... so who’s leaving?”
“Not leaving, chickadee,” an old raspy voice interrupted as a man, unnoticed up until he had spoken, rose from his seat. The folds of his grey kimono moved dustily and his large eyes were droopy in his wrinkled, creased face. He held the overall appearance of a wrinkled grey bed sheet.
Kagome’s face blossomed into wreathes of smiles. “Chikao-ojiisan!”
0-0-0
Tea was poured by an enthusiastic, yet easily distracted Kagome – Sesshoumaru discovered this to his expense when she accidentally poured tea over his hand instead of into the cup – as they sat around the table on their zabuton and the old tortoise demon Chikao and Totosai played a lethargic game of shogi.
“Even though,” Chikao began drowsily, edges of his rather large white moustache quivering at his ever breath, “I’m not built to be travelling such distances, I decided to come and visit.”
Kagome nodded distractedly at Chikao as she carefully wrapped Sesshoumaru’s scalded hand in bandages. He’d told her it didn’t hurt and to not waste her bandages on a wound that would be gone in a matter of minutes, but she was used to people refusing aid and could be bull headedly insistent.
Chikao’s rather large eyes twinkled in amusement as he blithely continued. “But it is nice to see you again, Kagome-chan.”
Kagome smiled and took a sip of her tea, Sesshoumaru mirroring her at his place at her side.
“But I never fancied you’d get yourself a Yokai suitor without consulting me!”
Kagome choked on her tea in an effort not to spit it out all over the shogi board and Sesshoumaru’s eyebrow twitched as he patted her on her back in a put upon manner. Eventually, once she’d regained the use of her lungs, Kagome waved frantically at the amused looking Chikao.
“Sesshoumaru and I... we’re not... like that!” she blustered, blushing furiously.
Sesshoumaru took another sip of his tea and continued to stare straight forward blankly.
Chikao beamed happily. “Oh, you mustn’t misunderstand chickadee, I’m not angry. It is good for you to have someone who will be as long lived as you!”
Kagome’s blood threatened to make her light pink kimono blush in sympathy by this point. “No, no, Chikao-ojiisan, you’re misunderstanding completely!”
“Especially someone like Sesshoumaru,” Chikao continued on without a care in the world, seemingly unaware or unconcerned over the fact that Totosai had fallen asleep across half of the shogi board as he calmly moved his pawn. “His samurai like vigour is a trait that is most admirable and rare nowadays. Unlike all this weak willed humans he has strength to protect,” he mused whimsically.
Letting out a little moue of distress, Kagome turned her beseeching gaze upon the vacant looking Sesshoumaru. “Say something!” she commanded, voice an embarrassed hiss.
“More tea, please,” he muttered, thrusting the tea cup at her. That was not the kind of something she had wanted. Woodenly, she took it from him and poured him the tea. Why was Sesshoumaru behaving like this? Did he not mind that Chikao had taken them as a couple? But, then again, she supposed Sesshoumaru had never been one to care for how others perceived him.
Sesshoumaru’s hand closing around her wrist nearly gave her a heart attack, but she soon realised that, whilst she had been daydreaming, she’d also forgotten to stop pouring tea. It had overflowed his teacup and created a small puddle on the wooden surface. Flustered, she allowed Sesshoumaru to rearrange her, mop it up and pour her another cup of tea. The twitch of his mouth gave him away and, with a jolt, Kagome realised that he wasn’t correcting Chikao because he was enjoying teasing her. The jerk. Dainty hands clenched into fists and she shot him an acerbic look that bounced straight off his stoic facade.
The exact moment when Kagome figured out that he was teasing her was profoundly obvious, her virginal blushes made way to red cheeks of impotent rage. Really, though he was teasing her to a certain extent, he was also testing. It was strangely pleasing to realise that her blushes at the insinuations meant that she did feel something for him. Even if she didn’t want to admit it. Humans were strange like that. They hid from their own emotions. Though Sesshoumaru was taciturn to a fault, he could confess to his own emotions in the privacy of his own mind quite freely. Out loud was a different matter all together. But he refused to be a coward and not face his own emotions. That was a ridiculous notion.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she groused, jumping to her feet and flicking a fiery glance at Sesshoumaru which was parried effortlessly with Sesshoumaru’s icy stare, “I have to start dinner.”
With that, she flicked her hair disdainfully and stalked off into the kitchen.
Chikao chuckled, his breath wheezing as he carefully sipped at his tea. “You’ll have your hands full with that one.”
“Hn,” Sesshoumaru uttered noncommittally, shooting Totosai a distasteful look as the old coot began to snore.
Pinning Sesshoumaru with a rather sharp look from those large watery eyes of his, Chikao continued on blithely, “Kagome’s magic, her purity depends on her happiness, having you here seems to be giving her back some of the vigour I was beginning to fear she had lost to the loneliness of time.”
Sesshoumaru’s gaze darted to the woman pottering about in the kitchen. “Human’s are frail.”
“And dogs value pack,” Chikao countered, “Kagome is not the only one feeling lonely.”
Eyes narrowing at the implication of weakness, Sesshoumaru stuck his nose in the air snootily. “You are a fool.”
“You will be the fool if you let her fall through your grasp Sesshoumaru,” Chikao schooled sternly, eyebrows smashing together on his wrinkled brow, “slow and steady will not win this race,” and then the old tortoise broke off into a round of wheezy chuckling, “but then you never were slow.”
Tuning the old man out, Sesshoumaru’s gaze wandered back to Kagome, who bumbled around the kitchen haphazardly and he watched as she somehow managed to spill water all over the floor and had to bend down to mop it up. She was pathetically clumsy really, a far way away from a creature of perfection such as him.
Surely though, he should be irked by her lack of finesse, by her bumbling incompetence. So why then was he feeling strangely endeared by it?
Could Chikao be right?
This required closer scrutiny.
A/N: This was written for Nisou Tenshi’s Fourteen symbol challenge for the prompt carp. Hope you enjoyed it!