She and Sango parted ways, the kids and Ah-Un racing after the taijiya at the mere mention of dinner being made. Steeling herself, Kagome headed in the direction of Kaede’s hut. Entei glided along beside her, half-supporting her as her good arm leaned more and more heavily into his heated flank. She’d never felt so exhausted in her entire life.

On the verge of collapse, she reached the threshold at last. The scene inside the hut had her alert again in an instant. Pushing past a hysterical Jakken, she fell to Sesshoumaru’s side.

Miroku and Kaede had laid the daiyoukai out on a futon at the back of the room, and already the bedroll was damp with sweat, the fabric twisted and shredded beneath his clenching claws. As Kagome looked on, another convulsion seized him, blood spilling down the sharp line of his shimmering jaw as his fangs pierced through his bottom lip.

“The situation is grave,” Miroku observed with a frown, standing across from her on Sesshoumaru’s other side.

Next to him, Kaede nodded, one wrinkled hand braced beneath her chin. “Aye. Naraku’s poison is foul indeed, and Sesshoumaru-sama has suffered a mighty dose.”

Nails buried in his sleeve, Kagome looked up at her desperately. “Baa-chan, what can we can we do to help him? There must be something!”

Kaede’s eye widened briefly at the younger miko before narrowing circumspectly at Sesshoumaru.

“He must needs sweat the poison out,” she declared after a moment, nodding again. “Tis the only way. To that end, perhaps ye can assist him.”

Kagome’s cheeks flared scarlet, she and Miroku sharing a tense, lecherous glance before both of them stared—startled—at Kaede. “Baa-chan! W-what are you suggesting…?”

“That ye build up the fire in the hearth, and keep it burning as hot as ye can,” Kaede replied tersely, hands perched on her hips. “What else d’ye think I be suggestin’?”

“Er…n-nothing,” Kagome managed weakly.

Putting a couple of extra logs on the fire, Kagome returned to the futon, where Kaede was still assessing the demon lord with a critical eye.

“Now, let us see to him,” she said in a brisk, business-like tone, kneeling down at Sesshoumaru’s other side and reaching for the clasps of his armor. “Lend me a hand, will ye?”

Kagome’s fingers fumbled at the buckles and straps–a few of the closures so mangled that Miroku had to break them off with the blunt end of his shakujou. When at last they eased the heavy, dented armor off of him, Sesshoumaru exhaled audibly in relief. As Kaede began to loosen the sweat-slicked neck of his haori, Miroku coughed lightly.

“I’ll leave you ladies to it,” he said with a bow. “If I can be of any other assistance, please let me know.”

“Hai—thank you, Miroku-san,” Kagome said with a smile, blue eyes slanting over her shoulder. “…Would you mind taking him with you when you go?”

In the span of a few minutes, Jakken had gone from hysterical to full-on catatonic. Curled behind her in an approximation of the fetal position, the imp stared fixedly at Sesshoumaru’s pained expression, bulging yellow eyes streaming with silent tears.

”Of course,” the monk said, sliding his shakujou through Jakken’s vest and carrying him out.

Kagome’s attention returned to the task at hand. Kaede had already drawn open Sesshoumaru’s outer and inner haori, exposing a broad, glistening swathe of his muscled chest. The younger miko bit the inside of her cheek, her eyebrow twitching as aged hands continued to descend.

“Hey—Baa-chan,” Kagome growled. “I don’t think you need to loosen those.”

The elderly miko flinched, her fingers retreating guiltily from the ties of Sesshoumaru’s hakama. Massaging her temples, Kagome sighed.

It was going to be a long night.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi