This is a drawing I did based off of the InuYasha Fanfic, Tales from the House of the Moon by Resmiranda on MediaMinor. I did this one because I always loved this comment Kagome said to Sesshomaru early in the story(about chapter eleven, there are about forty). Here's a small clip from the chapter, I think there is enough for you to understand the situation somewhat.(if not pm me^^)

Gingerly she'd dislodged her foot from the crevice in which it was wedged and peeled off the sock covering it. Her ankle was already swelling, but a quick inspection had revealed that she had only sprained it, which was a silver lining even if she wasn't feeling terribly disposed to appreciate it. Muttering under her breath, Kagome had begun to stretch the sock out so she could use it as a makeshift bandage.

That was how she found herself in this horrible position; she was still cursing and hissing with the pain and missing Inuyasha and Sango and Miroku so badly that she thought she would die when she caught the youki on the air. And then she had looked up to see Sesshoumaru standing there, a look of either extreme boredom or intense interest on his face. All she could think about was how she was suddenly speared through the heart by a story, made to do its cruel whim. She didn't want to do this, here, in the cold beneath a tree in a time where she didn't belong. It was like one of those cheesy romance scenes in the books that her friend Eri-chan used to read behind her history books in class. Nerves, adrenaline, and fear warred with each other, and Kagome bit her lip.

In the silent moments that stretched between them in the dark winter night, Kagome thought she heard the universe laughing.

Then she sneezed.

It was the sneeze that startled Sesshoumaru out of his small reverie. He had been wondering why it didn't seem strange to him to run into her again; in his sleep he'd heard her hauntingly familiar voice in the quiet of the night uttering the most creative curses he'd witnessed aside from his brother's lexicon, and when he'd finally pried his eyes open and caught her scent on the air it seemed only natural that he would come to investigate.

Seeing her, disheveled and afraid at the base of a tree with the corpse of a bear only a few feet away, had given him pause, though. She appeared to be injured. He stared at her, and she at him; she looked very young in those moments, and in his chest there was that strange tug, so very like the tug that caused him to abandon the House of the Moon in the dead of winter.

He'd been wandering for less than one cycle of the moon, but he hadn't yet found whatever it was he was looking for. He wondered if this miko � Kagome, he remembered � would know what it was he sought.

She looked like a tapestry; like a painting on a screen, in shadow and light, in blue and black. He remembered her well, as he was certain only very few left in this world remembered her, and he knew she remembered him. There was a strange comfort in that fact; human though she may be, her memory still held him after all those years.

When she sneezed, he caught the slight odor of disease. So, she was sick as well. An unfamiliar feeling of consternation swept over him as he remembered all the times Rin had let herself fall ill. Just what the hell did she think she was doing alone in the middle of nowhere, sick and injured? He crossed the clearing to stand in front of her.

"Kagome � " she jumped a little at the sound of her name, " � what are you doing here?"

Wide eyes stared up at him, and her face was washed and pale from the light of the moon high above them. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was too dry. Closing it, she swallowed, licked her lips, and tried again.

"I don't know," she answered. "I'm a miko, not a hime."

Sesshoumaru turned this answer over in his mind for a brief moment, deeply confused. Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to dwell on her cryptic declaration, because, to his horror, she burst into tears.

It wasn't quiet, lady-like weeping either. She was sobbing in huge gulps and burying her face in her hands as if that would hide the fact that she was wailing like an injured cow. Sesshoumaru felt a vaguely shocked frown crease his brow. Just what the hell is going on here? he wondered. He was at a loss. He was always lost when women cried.

"Kagome-sama!"

Startled, Sesshoumaru turned his head and saw that Myouga had finally awoken from the warmth of his breastplate and resituated himself on his shoulder. He was clearly upset that the miko was upset � the little flea looked as though he were having some sort of attack from the way he was jumping up and down and waving his arms. Sesshoumaru watched at the old retainer hopped from his shoulder and landed on Kagome's knee.

"Kagome-sama!" he cried. "Please do not cry! We will help you!"

We will? Sesshoumaru wondered. Events seemed to be moving a little too quickly for his taste, and he wondered if Myouga was going to consult him before he made any more decisions.

For her part, Kagome was experiencing a moment of severe cognitive dissonance. If she had to pick the least sexy thing in the world to save her from thoughts of possible meaningless passion, Myouga, hopping up and down on her knee, would have been at the top of the list. With difficulty, Kagome scrubbed the tears from her eyes and focused on his rotund body and wrinkled face.

The back of her mind poked her, hard, and Kagome could feel a certain logic forming, and it calmed her somewhat. In fact, she felt so sure of herself that she could taste her relief in her mouth, and she was suddenly herself again; she wasn't the hime. She was still the miko, and Sesshoumaru was... well, he was still himself, but the pieces of the puzzle were suddenly clicking, if not into place, then into some semblance of order. She knew this with certainty.

Because no one in their right mind would have sex with Myouga watching; he was better than a cold shower.

Kagome wanted to kiss him, but refrained. She was feeling a little lightheaded, and everything had taken on that strange sense of the surreal, the way it did when she was in college and had stayed up too late studying for a class. Blinking very slowly, she swiped a hand across her eyes, drying her tears. "Sorry, Myouga-jii-chan. I'm just, um... a little upset right now."

Myouga gave her a look full of sympathy. Hopping down to her ankle, he made a big display out of inspecting it. "Ah!" he said finally. "Do not worry! You will be able to walk as soon as tomorrow!"

Kagome gently probed it with her fingers again � already it seemed less sore, but it still hurt, and she hissed between her teeth. Ignoring the fact that she needed to be able to walk now, rather than tomorrow, she carefully lifted the foot and placed it on her knee. She was somewhat surprised to find that the limp sock she had been stretching was still in her hand � though if she had expected it to disappear, she was obviously in more trouble than she thought � and set about wrapping it as best she could around the ankle. "Thank you," she said as warmly as possible. "But how did you find me?"

She had addressed Myouga, but it was Sesshoumaru who answered. "You made a fuss," he informed her, boredom leeching his voice of color.

Kagome felt a stab of annoyance, and would have glanced up to glare at him if she hadn't been so occupied with the damn sock. It was probably his fault she was feeling so out of it right now. Him and his stupid pretty hair. "Yes, well," she replied, pulling it tighter, "not all of us can be perfect. Some of us cry when we get hurt."

Sesshoumaru arched an eyebrow. "Quite loudly," he said.

Looking up, Kagome frowned. "Well, do pardon me," she snapped before returning to her sock. She was experiencing difficulties getting it to tie into place as it simply wasn't long enough. Her head hurt, her nose and throat were stuffed and scratchy, and she felt like she was going to either fall asleep or cry again. Kagome suspected she might be a little overwrought.

The demon lord felt his nose tickle with the smell of her unshed tears and his mouth twisted with irritation. He couldn't stand it when people cried. Maybe if she was distracted she would refrain from that horrible braying.

"You still haven't answered my question," he said quickly, hoping to make her think about something other than whatever was making her cry. After a moment's thought he amended the statement with, "...satisfactorily."

Kagome looked up again and furrowed her brow. "What?" she asked, puzzled.

"Why are you here?"

Myouga, still on her leg, turned to her as well. "That is an excellent question, milord. Kagome-sama, what brings you here again? Did you read another story?"

"Um..." Kagome fiddled with the sock. Her head felt full of cotton.

"Story?" Sesshoumaru asked, narrowing his eyes. If she doesn't stop worrying that sock, I'm going to melt it, he thought. His patience was stretched rather thin tonight and he wondered if he'd ever be able to go back to sleep.

Kagome avoided his gaze and addressed Myouga instead. "Sort of," she said. "But I don't know if I can talk about it." She twined the fabric through her fingers.

Gritting his teeth, Sesshoumaru reached down and plucked the sock from her hands.

"Hey! I need that to bandage my foot!" Kagome exclaimed and without thinking made a grab for it. The tips of her fingers brushed it before Sesshoumaru jerked it out of her grasp. She immediately sent him a glare.

"Why are you here?" he demanded for a third time.

"Give me my sock and I'll tell you," she retorted.

Sesshoumaru said nothing, merely arched his eyebrow again. Kagome briefly fantasized about shaving it off while he slept before realizing that she was probably not in any position to negotiate. She didn't think he'd kill her, but she'd been wrong about things before. She pressed her lips together and sat back, crossing her arms.

"I'm... looking for a hime," she said.

Sesshoumaru said nothing, merely waited for her to fill the silence.

Heaving a sigh, Kagome dropped her eyes. "I have some business with her."

Myouga hopped up onto her knee. "What sort of business, Kagome-sama? What is her name?" he asked.

Kagome shrugged. "I'm not very certain, but I just have to find her. Her name is... Machiko."

Through lowered lashes, Kagome tried to observe Sesshoumaru's reaction to the name, but like always he kept his mask in place. Maybe Machiko had never mentioned her name? It seemed unlikely, but stranger things had happened.

"But why are you here?" Myouga asked. Kagome was getting tired of that question.

"I just have to be in the northwest. She'll find me," Kagome informed him, although now that she thought about it Machiko probably wouldn't be able to find her if she didn't actually go to villages and spread word about herself. Frustrated, she sighed again. She'd been too focused on getting the responsibility done that she had overlooked her actually doing it. Annoyed with herself, Kagome slumped. "Anyway, may I please have my sock back, now?"

Sesshoumaru gave her a withering glance, and before Kagome could say anything, shredded the sock into one long strip.

"Hey! I don't have very many of those!" she cried, snatching it out of his clawed fingers. "It's cold enough with socks, I don't think I'd survive without them!"

Sesshoumaru shrugged. "You will not survive very long at any rate unless you find some way to make yourself warmer," he informed her.

"Oh, thanks for pointing that out," she huffed. "I honestly thought I could just sit here all night and be peachy in the morning, but I'm glad you're around to tell me differently." She coughed violently, which caused her head to hurt even more.

Sesshoumaru couldn't decide whether to question her use of the word �peachy' or to annoy her further by telling her that she was welcome, so he said nothing and merely watched as she wound the ruined sock around her ankle, making small sounds of pain as she did so. She looked broken, and ill.