“That ramen had better be ready by the time I get back, wench!” Inuyasha yelled cheerfully over his shoulder as he leapt into the trees, Sango and Miroku following after him on Kirara.

Kagome scowled, her hands balling to fists at her sides. Too bad Inuyasha was out of “sitting” range, or she would have sent him so far below the earth that they’d need an archaeology crew to dig him out.

After three nights in a row of sleeping outdoors, her nerves were admittedly rather fried. Hopefully those four would finally be able to secure lodgings for them tonight—once they’d exorcised the youkai supposedly plaguing a village nearby. In the meantime, she was stuck here holding down the campsite and babysitting the kids.

She glanced over to an adjacent clearing, where Rin and Shippou were running laps around Ah-Un as Jakken chased after them, angrily waving his staff. Sesshoumaru, of course, was nowhere to be found.

Figuring that the kids had things pretty well under control, Kagome turned to her task with a sigh. At least Miroku and Sango had had the decency to collect some firewood before abandoning her.

It took her a while to get the fire burning in the damp spring air, but as the flames finally grew to a hearty crackle, she knelt down and began rifling through her pack. Luckily she’d stocked up on her last trip home. There were enough instant noodles in here to feed an army, but she still worried it might not be enough. Inuyasha was a bottomless pit when it came to ramen.

She would need the biggest kettle they had to cook this motherload. Finding it, she took off toward a nearby stream. Inuyasha was always barking at her to stay aware of her surroundings, so she did a quick scan of the area before crouching low on the pebbly bank and letting the clear, cool water flow into the kettle.

When the pot was finally full, she rose, hefting her now heavy burden with some difficulty. A flash of white out of the corner of her eye made her start, water sloshing over the side of the kettle at the motion. She looked around quickly for a minute, but there was nothing to be seen.

Must have been my imagination, she thought, pushing aside her unease as she made her way back to camp.

About halfway there, her arms were beginning to shake, sweat breaking out across her brow as she struggled to shuffle up another wooded slope. Just as the summit came into view, her foot caught against the bulge of a tree root, and she stumbled forward with a gasp.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she braced herself for the inevitable tumble to her death—when all of a sudden her fall was broken by a steadying grip on her upper arm.

Kagome blinked, gazing up into the solemn face of Sesshoumaru. Her skin tingled faintly beneath his touch.

“Thanks,” she managed, shifting the kettle in her arms.

He nodded and stepped back, allowing her to resume her course. As she trudged up the rest of the hill and through the last patch of trees, he fell into step beside her. She supposed it was too much to ask for him to have taken her burden from her.

No, that would be too much like a servant’s task for his lordship, Kagome thought with a snicker. Golden eyes cut to her sharply, and she sobered, fixing her eyes on the path ahead.

The kids and Jakken had worn themselves out, it seemed. All three lay sprawled in the grass, their two-headed dragon friend snoring loudly above them. As she set the kettle down and stoked the fire, Sesshoumaru reclined gracefully against a neighboring tree.

Though their groups had been traveling together for weeks now, Kagome still knew next to nothing about the mysterious demon lord. He kept mostly to himself, and she found herself looking forward to the rare moments in which he deigned to grace them all with his presence. She wasn’t sure why—whenever he was around, he tended to mostly just stare off into space. Maybe she just liked the variety of his company.

It occurred to her that she had never been alone with him like this before. As the water began to boil, Kagome peeked up at him through her bangs. She expected him to be studying some point in the distance, but much to her embarrassed surprise, he was staring straight at her.

Flushing, she ducked her head and started rummaging purposefully through her yellow backpack. She could still feel the weight of his gaze upon her as she extracted her supplies.

Tearing open the packs of ramen somewhat spastically, she dumped the crunchy noodles into the kettle, prodding them with a pair of chopsticks to help them break apart. As they began to soften and swell, she added in several pouches of seasoning and swirled the noodles through the fragrant broth, humming absently to herself.

“What is this?” a cool voice demanded near her ear.

“GAH!” Kagome exclaimed, nearly upending herself and the kettle both in her alarm.

Sesshoumaru crouched next to her, a discarded seasoning packet pinched between two fingers.

“It’s…it’s just some spices,” Kagome replied, placing a hand over her hammering heart.

He sniffed gingerly at the tear she had made, his nose wrinkling faintly in distaste. “The smell is strong.”

“Yeah, well…our senses are a lot duller than yours.”

“True,” he agreed, the packet fizzling to nothingness in his acidic claws.

When he continued to stare at her, Kagome grew uncomfortable. “Er…is there anything you need?”

“Need?” he repeated, something almost like amusement flitting over his features. “No.”

“Um, okay then,” Kagome said uncertainly, reaching for her pack.

She withdrew a couple of bags of freeze-dried shrimp and veggies, trying her best to ignore the demon at her shoulder. Knowing he was just sitting there watching her had the fine hairs on her neck standing on end.

As she stirred in the last of the shiitakes and opened the sriracha, a pale hand reached out to intercept her.

“More seasoning?” he asked her dubiously.

Kagome answered him with an indignant huff. “Some of us like a little extra spice in our lives, Sesshoumaru-sama.”

“Indeed,” he replied as he released her wrist, the undercurrent in his voice setting her nerves distinctly on edge. “Proceed.”

Grumbling internally at his haughtiness, Kagome unscrewed the cap and tilted the bottle over the simmering pot of ramen. When nothing came out, she gave the bottom a firm pat and tried again—to no avail.

“Stupid thing,” she muttered, bringing the bottle in toward her body as she shook it again, hard.

Sesshoumaru’s eyes widened slightly as a jet of bright red rooster sauce sprayed across her face and neck, narrowly missing her right eye.

“Oops,” she said lamely, hoping she had some napkins close at hand.

Before she could attempt to look, a claw was trailing through the sauce on her cheek. Frozen in shock, she watched with bated breath as Sesshoumaru withdrew his finger and brought it to his lips. Red liquid welled in the curve of his nail, beading at the tip. When his tongue glided out to taste it, a shiver ran through her entire frame.

“Sesshoumaru…” she whispered, her throat desert dry.

His gaze was hooded as he plucked the bottle from her unfeeling hands and drew her toward him. Her trembling fingers buried themselves in the silk of his sleeves, frightened and nervous and exhilarated all at once. When he lowered his mouth to the column of her throat, she thought she might combust on the spot.

His lips and tongue smoothed over her tender skin, leaving a burning path that had nothing at all to do with the peppery sauce she’d spilled there. She stifled a moan as he lingered briefly at her pulse point, her stomach muscles clenching at the sensation.

“Delicious,” he murmured, the points of his fangs skimming along her collar bone.

Her brain was fuzzy, but she didn’t recall any of the sriracha landing there—nor where his mouth was heading now, as he pulled open the front of her shirt.

“Itadakimaaaaaasu!”

She reeled back, frantically straightening her shirt as Inuyasha burst into the clearing a moment later, making a beeline for his beloved dish. Snatching up Kagome’s  abandoned chopsticks, he started devouring the noodles without preamble. It was only about halfway through that he seemed to realize they were there.

He cast a suspicious glance between them. “Oi, wench, what’s wrong with your face? It’s all streaky.” Before she could answer, he had rounded upon Sesshoumaru, his brow arching. “You like sriracha?”

The demon lord glanced down at the bottle still in his hand.

“The sauce?” he said. “I do not care for the taste.”

Kagome looked at him in surprise. Catching her gaze, he held it meaningfully as he extended the bottle toward her.

“It feels light, Miko. I think you should refill it.” The look he was directing at her could have melted through solid stone. “For next time.”

“Ah, okay,” she breathed out, feeling dizzy again as she accepted the bottle from him, the slide of his fingers against her own sending an electric thrill all the way down to her toes.

“What the hell’s wrong with you two?” Inuyasha groused, returning to his meal. “And stop hogging the sriracha!”

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Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi