Dreamer Awakened

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Momiji was breathless from exertion by the time they got near the house. Noa’s cries had not let up, and his discomfort had only added to her anxiety, making her feel neglectful by allowing him to cry so much. Perhaps that explained why she had all but broken into a flat out run, doing her best to ignore the pain in her back caused by the jarring motions of her stride. Bouncing and tripping her way through the trees, she kept up her hectic pace until she was in her backyard. Then she slowed, trying to catch her breath and hoped that the restrained movement would help her pain to subside.

Even as preoccupied as she had been with getting home as quickly as possible, there was still a part of her brain that was free enough to think about Kusanagi on the way back. She wondered if he was still behind her. She told herself it was absurd to think otherwise, but he had been so silent that she hadn’t even been able to hear his footfalls. She was about to turn and look; but no, she realized as she continued to walk forwards and saw his shadow overtake hers. He was there. Momiji reflected at that point that perhaps his silence was accounted for by the fact that he was still seething over Sakura’s catty remarks.

But she discovered that wasn’t the case when he stepped around her and opened the door for her. She looked up at him as she swept past him and she glimpsed concern in eyes despite his effort to hide it behind his drooping eyelids. He returned her gaze, but remained silent, and oddly enough, his concern relieved her. It meant that he wasn’t thinking about Sakura anymore, which to Momiji, was a very good thing.

"Don’t worry, Kusanagi," Momiji hastened to assure him, breaking the long silence between them. "I’m sure Noa will be fine once he gets something to eat." She smiled brightly then, completely misinterpreting the focus of his concern altogether.

Sailing into the kitchen, she missed Kusanagi’s frown as his eyes flickered dismissively over the baby before settling on her. He took in the chalkiness of her cheeks and the pain behind her eyes, as she went past him, his focus moving with her and lingering on her back, where he stared at the shredded, blood-flecked fabric of what remained of her coat and the seat of her slacks.

Unaware that she was under such intense scrutiny, Momiji absorbed herself in examining the contents on the counter where she had put some of Noa’s things earlier. Gently bouncing the inconsolable baby up and down in a rhythmic motion, she thoughtfully chewed on her bottom lip for a moment and then eyed Kusanagi speculatively as he quietly closed the door behind him. She was going to have to rely on his help if she wanted to get things prepared in the fastest time possible. Unfortunately, she somehow doubted that he would be thrilled with her plan, considering that he had yet to really warm up to Noa. Well, she thought, mentally straightening her shoulders, like it or not, he was going to help. She would find a way to make him, she told herself.

Wheeling in his direction, she opened her mouth to speak to him, but before she could say anything, he stepped towards her, his eyes sweeping intently over her face.

"How is your back, Momiji?" he wanted to know as he moved closer.

"It’s – fine," she mumbled dismissively. It was still hurting a little bit, although, nothing like it had been while she’d been running. But she didn’t want to think about that right now, she wanted to concentrate on Noa and getting Kusanagi to help her. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "Kus –" but that was a far as she got before he grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, without so much as a, ‘Let me see for myself".

"You’re awfully pale," Kusanagi observed softly, and Momiji, despite the distracting wails of Noa, could hear the thread of concern lacing his words, and something else, something that sounded – softer?

What was it? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it sounded… nice.

Whatever it was, it brought her a spark of unexpected pleasure, but Momiji tried to brush it aside. Noa was her first priority.

"Pale? Really? Well, I’m still feeling fine, so –" Momiji suddenly ground to a halt because of Kusanagi’s fingers. They had been resting on her shoulders, but now they began trailing softly down her back, making her heart go crazy.

Just what exactly was he doing? Momiji wondered wide-eyed, fighting to maintain control of her breathing as a pleasant haze began to dull her focus. She didn’t have to wonder long, however when stabs of pain went shooting up her back, cutting through the fog and exploding into fire. Kusanagi had tentatively tugged at her coat, and Momiji’s body jerked in reaction causing another round of pain to shoot up her spine before she was able to jump away from him.

"Yiiah!" she yelped, lurching around to glare at him.

Her cheeks were even whiter than before, and the unfocused green of her eyes gave Kusanagi the impression that she might pass out. He took a concerned step towards her. But she held her hand out in front of her to keep him away, taking a few deep breaths to try and steady herself. After several tense seconds, the look passed and Kusanagi relaxed his watchful pose a bit.

"That HURT!" she informed him in a shaky voice, her eyes glaring reproachfully at him.

"So you are in pain, then," he accused.

"Well I hadn’t been until you tried to pry the skin from my back!" she defended with a grimace.

"I was just trying to see how much damage there is," he told her, his finger pointed vaguely at her shoulder. "There’s blood all over your coat and pants – "

Momiji stopped him, her eyes flashing. "Yes, I know there is, and you yanking at them isn’t going to make it any better – I don’t have time to concentrate on it right now, anyway, so -."

Her words made him scowl and he asserted, "No, Momiji, it needs to be attended to now, not later. - Here, just let me -"

He began moving forward, but she staved him off again.

"No, stop!" she demanded peevishly. "Er… that is… I’m fine for the moment!" she attempted to convince him.

His face told her that he didn’t believe her, and it was tempting to just let him look so she get on with the things she needed to do. But poor Noa was still crying, and Momiji didn’t think she could live with herself if she made him wait while Kusanagi got his way.

"Look, it’s better to do the quickest thing first," she reasoned, "and the quickest thing would be to take care of Noa."

Kusanagi gave Momiji a piercing look, his eyes barely acknowledging the infant.

"You’re hurt. He’s not," he informed her flatly. "Just seeing the blood that’s splattered all over you, I know the scratches on your back have to be pretty deep. You need to let me get a better look at it, Momiji –"

"No, Kusanagi!" she heatedly denied. "If it’s the blood that concerns you, rest assured that the bleeding has stopped, so I’m in no danger there. It just looks worse than it is."

Kusanagi’s stared mutinously at her. That she could stand there, covered in her own blood with that impassive look on her face really angered him. He was still having trouble shaking the terror he had felt in that split second before Sakura had arrived and saved them both. Didn’t she even care that he could have lost her? She should care, dammit! He muttered to himself, because he sure as hell never wanted to re-live another moment like that one - EVER.

"Don’t you know that you could have died, you little idiot!" he growled, trying to make her understand how much danger she’d been in.

It didn’t work because she replied with a touch of asperity, "Well! - So could you!"

Her eyes drifted down to the front of his bloodstained shirt and Kusanagi snorted, crossing his arms in front of chest. "I’ve already started to heal, Momiji," he informed her a bit sourly. "Don’t forget that my body has strong regenerative powers. But yours, Princess, while very nice, does not."

Momiji’s startled eyes returned to his face at that, and color tinged her cheeks.

"I haven’t forgotten," Momiji assured him steadily despite the color. "In fact, I’m counting on that because I need you to help me."

"I am trying to help you!" he railed, exacerbated, "but you ‘re not letting me!"

"I’m letting you," Momiji contradicted, "But he is what I need help with!" And then Momiji held Noa out in front of her.

Kusanagi quickly uncrossed his arms and straightened up, eyeing the squalling infant with an abashed expression. It was encouraging to note that he seemed to have forgotten about her back for a moment. Now all she had to do was get him to actually take Noa, so she could get to work on preparing his formula. Momiji moved a little closer to Kusanagi, trying to prompt him into holding out his hands, but Kusanagi immediately took a step back.

"Come on, Kusanagi," she pleaded, "you said you wanted to help me – well this will be helping me."

Kusanagi took another step back, away from the purplish, scrunched up baby face.

"That is not what I meant by help," he grumbled.

"Even so," she countered, "It’s what I really need you to do right now."

"Why do you want to give him to me?" he grimaced.

"Because I need to get his formula ready," Momiji informed him with strained patience.

"Why don’t you let me do that, and you can hold him?" Kusanagi objected.

"Do you know how to make a bottle?" Momiji demanded brusquely

"Well, no –" he replied reluctantly, "but I’m a quick learner."

"I have not doubt," Momiji sighed, "but learning takes time no matter how fast you are. I already know how to do it, though, since I’ve had my share of babysitting duties - which means that I can still do it faster than you."

Still he made no move to take the baby so Momiji tried changing tactics.

"Just look at him, Kusanagi," she urged, "I know you’re… not overly fond of him, but surely you’re not going to let him go hungry any longer than he has to?"

Momiji was giving him an expectant look, and so, reluctantly, Kusanagi transferred his gaze from her to the puckered, unhappy little face and then wished he hadn’t. Up until now, he’d tried hard not to let his thoughts or emotions dwell too much on Noa, thinking that it would help him to put aside the feelings of hostility he’d experienced upon first seeing the baby. He knew that Noa hadn’t chosen to be born the way he was any more than Kusanagi had chosen to become what he was. But Kusanagi also knew that his hatred of the Aragami had become so ingrained, that it was an automatic response no matter what the circumstances. Even now, despite his efforts to the contrary, Kusanagi could feel his emotions beginning to stir, and he tried to prepare himself for what he knew was coming, hoping he could keep the irrational hostility from showing on his face.

Slowly the feelings began to unfurl, and Kusanagi tensed, but they were not at all what he expected. Bemused, Kusanagi examined the burgeoning sense of need welling up inside of him, and tried to understand what it meant. It was so powerful that he stood transfixed by it until he realized it was a compulsion to try and comfort the unhappiness of the tiny baby before him.

Astounded, Kusanagi mechanically reacted, reaching out and taking the baby from Momiji, too absorbed by what he was experiencing to note the relieved expression on her face.

"Thank you, Kusanagi," she breathed gratefully.

Momiji heard Kusanagi mumble some sort of reply as she hastily turned away to get to work, but she’d barely moved, before she stopped and looked back at him. The incessant wailing that had plagued them all the way home had suddenly ceased. Startled, and thinking that perhaps something was wrong, Momiji anxiously eyed the infant in Kusanagi’s arms. He seemed to be fine, but a high-pitched, melodic thrumming began to swell within the room and Noa’s souls began to glow.

Momiji’s mouth fell open as the sound grew in strength and Kusanagi’s souls quickly added to the light, pulsating brightly beneath the fabric of his shirt. She watched with growing perplexity, the tiny infant lying nestled within Kusanagi’s arms. He had been inconsolable while she’d held him; but he was a different baby altogether now, serenely staring up into Kusanagi’s face. Why? The answer had to be the mitamas, she concluded. She watched Noa’s pulsating souls for a moment and then looked at the souls in Kusanagi’s hands. They were glowing with the same steady rhythm, in time with those of the baby.

Still speechless, Momiji’s gaze traveled to Kusanagi’s face, wondering what, exactly, was going on. But Kusanagi’s stunned countenance offered her no clear explanation. In fact, he seemed oblivious to her at that moment, looking not at her, but down at Noa with a sort of dazed expression. After a moment though, he appeared to pull himself out of it, finally sensing Momiji’s eyes resting on him. Forcing himself to look up, he locked gazes with her. He could see the obvious question written on her face, but he was reluctant to say anything. He knew what was happening, but he couldn’t explain to her why it was happening.

There was a moment of prolonged silence and Momiji transferred her gaze back to the docile newborn, her head tilted thoughtfully to the side. Then her eyes flickered back to Kusanagi.

She surprised him with her uncanny perception by saying, "He’s drawing from your energy, isn’t he?"

"And just how did you know that, Princess?" Kusanagi demanded with a start.

Momiji paused, looking at him for a moment longer before she turned away and headed for the counter. "Because," she said as she began preparing the formula and pouring it into an empty bottle, "he’s a baby and when babies are hungry, they usually don’t stop crying unless they are fed." Momiji stopped speaking while she screwed the lid onto the bottle and then bent down to pull a small saucepan out from beneath the counter. Kusanagi turned his head and followed her movement when she went to the sink to fill it with water. "The minute he stopped crying, his mitamas started to glow," she continued, looking over her shoulder at him before turning to put the bottle in the saucepan and set it on the stove.

While she waited for it to heat, she swiveled around and gave him an appraising look. His handsome face told her nothing of what he was feeling and her eyes slid downwards to his mitamas. They were still glowing.

"First, it was just Noa’s mitamas that were glowing, but then yours started glowing too. – So it seemed only natural to think that he had made some kind of connection with you." She gave Kusanagi a thoughtful look, and quietly observed, "He seems to be more comfortable with you than with me. Perhaps in sharing your energy, he is forming some kind of a bond – "

"What do you mean, a bond? What kind of bond?" Kusanagi asked, distracted.

"Hmm. I dunno," Momiji shrugged uncertainly, "maybe it’s similar to the bond he would share with his mother."

"His mother?" Kusanagi repeated in an odd voice. "You mean like when his mother would…." He had wanted to say ‘breastfeed’ but he couldn’t seem to get the word out so he ended up saying, "- nurse? Is that what you mean?"

Momiji looked a little surprised at that, weighing his words before she answered, "Well, that’s not exactly how I meant it, but -" her eyes pivoted from Noa and his mitamas, to Kusanagi and his. "If you think that’s what its like... it does seem to be very similar to that, doesn’t it?"

Hell no, that wasn’t what he thought it was like! Kusanagi thought tersely, roughly denying the idea that he was nursing an Aragami child. Perversely, he pushed aside his earlier feeling of need, and furiously told himself that he refused to bond with an Aragami in that way. He didn’t even want to bond with a human child in that way! Men just didn’t do that sort of thing!

"I wonder if he would react that way with another Aragami or if it’s just with you because you’re – "

"You’d better not be about to say, ‘because you’re his father’," Kusanagi interrupted sharply, Sakura’s jibes suddenly coming to mind.

Momiji’s eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut when she saw the turbulent expression on Kusanagi’s face.

She shook her head emphatically, "N-n-o, that’s not what I was going to –"

"It’s bad enough to imply that I’m a walking breast, Momiji," he shot her a harassed look, "without bringing Sakura’s stupid lies into it."

Suddenly he needed to get away. Despite his strenuous vow to the contrary, he couldn’t seem to stop the growing feelings of closeness he was experiencing towards Noa. And even though he didn’t want to hate the child, Kusanagi wasn’t ready to feel this close to him either – even if the newborn was half human like he was. Compressing his lips into a tight line he stalked toward Momiji.

"Here," he mumbled, thrusting the baby at her.

Surprised, Momiji took him without a word, shooting Kusanagi a distressed look. Unaware of the emotions he was laboring under, she thought it was the mention of Sakura that had upset him.

Once the contact between Kusanagi and Noa was broken, the infant whimpered and began to cry. But Kusanagi turned a deaf ear to him and stalked away.

"Kusanagi, please!" Momiji protested, but he didn’t turn back. "I didn’t mean to imply – " she tried again but he stopped her.

"I need to get cleaned up, Princess," he cut in, in his most careless voice. Pulling his shirt over his head he lobbed it towards the trashcan and headed for the kitchen door. "Noa’s formula should be ready in a few minutes, right?" He tossed the words over his shoulder at her without pausing in his strides. "Good," he added after her nod. "Then the little termite can use that instead of me to fill himself up."

Momiji didn’t reply, but then he hadn’t expected her to. He knew that his behavior was terribly ignoble, but he couldn’t help it. He was too busy trying to ignore the urge to go rushing back and take the baby, just to keep him from crying. It was a heavy, desperate feeling, one that somehow felt… maternal - and that made him beat an even hastier retreat.

Momiji bit her lip, her eyes following Kusanagi’s broad, well-muscled shoulders until he disappeared from the room. Silently, she cursed Sakura, for ever opening her mouth and then cursed herself for having allowed her own insecurities to hinder her from immediately disavowing the idea that child and man were in any way related.

Noa’s bottle was ready now. With a tired sigh, she pulled it from the lukewarm pan of water and took it into the living room. Gingerly, she settled herself on the sofa, wincing a little as the stuck fabric pulled her skin. The sharp pain quickly subsided into a dull ache, and, after a second or two, she was able to concentrate on feeding the ravenous newborn, without too much discomfort.

It had been a long time since she had fed a baby, she mused, and she couldn’t recall ever feeding one this enthusiastic about his food. A quiet smile curved her lips as she looked at Noa and how intently he concentrated on slurping down his meal. If his appetite was anything to go by, Momiji told herself, he was going to grow be a strong, healthy child. - That was, as long as they could protect him from the Tengugaki.

Momiji’s smile faded then. Her thoughts darkened, consumed by the Tengugaki’s ability to sense the baby and the day that they would again come after him. She had a few weeks before that happened, but then what? she worried. She had to find a way to keep him safe, she vehemently thought, as she put the now empty bottle on the end table next to her and propped him on her shoulder to burp him.

After a few good burps, Momiji rhythmically rubbed the baby’s back, mulling over the problem, and began to feel dispirited when she couldn’t think of anything. She was about to give up thinking about it for the present when an unexpected possibility occurred to her. The solution seemed so simple that she wondered why it hadn’t occurred to her sooner. A relieved excitement began to build within her, tempered by just a splinter of uncertainty. She knew nothing about chemistry and manufacturing, and she wondered if they would they have enough time to put her safety measure in place before the next new moon. Mr. Kunikida would probably know, she reflected. She should call him and talk to him about it.

Reaching out, she put her hand on the phone and then visibly jumped when Kusanagi’s hand engulfed hers. She had been so caught up in her meditations that she had failed to hear Kusanagi return downstairs and come to stand behind the sofa. Craning to look at him over her shoulder, her eyes slid over him and she noticed that he was wearing a crisp, clean, white t-shirt. Seeing him now, she never would have guessed he had been injured just a few hours earlier. It made her wonder if his puncture wounds were completely healed already. How lucky could you get, she thought wistfully, wishing her back could be the same.

"What are you doing, Momiji?" he quietly asked, his hand still resting over hers so that she was unable to pick up the phone.

"I was going to call Mr. Kunikida and talk to him about Noa," she supplied, her green eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she recalled her idea. "I think I know how we can keep the Tengugaki from finding him!"

"Really?" Kusanagi smiled a little at the excitement in her eyes. "How’s that?"

"Ceramics!" she enthused. "If we build a ceramic field, and use it to shield Noa’s energy, they won’t be able to find him!"

Kusanagi looked impressed. "That’s a really… good idea, Princess."

Momiji thanked him and then added, "But I don’t know if we have enough time to build the field. I was just going to call Mr. Kunikida and ask him - " as she spoke, she tried to lift the phone, but Kusanagi hadn’t let go of her and his fingers curled around hers, pulling them away from the phone before he released her.

" You can call him later. I think maybe first, you should lay the baby down, since he’s asleep."

"What?" Momiji looked startled for a moment, her eyes darting to the small head nestled against her shoulder. Smiling, her fingers came up and gently stroked the soft down at the crown of Noa’s head. "I hadn’t even realized," she said sheepishly, the effort of getting to her feet awkward since she tried to do it without ripping at her sore skin.

Kusanagi watched her silently struggle for a split second before he moved around and tugged her carefully to her feet.

"Thanks." She mumbled gratefully into his chest.

He grunted in reply and she stood there, hesitating, her mind replaying what had happened in the kitchen.

"Kusanagi, about what I said… earlier," she was still looking at his chest, trying to find the right words, "I wasn’t going to say that I thought you were Noa’s father – "

"I know, Momiji. I just needed some time to myself," he replied quietly, but she didn’t hear him, too busy trying to explain, not wanting him to continue to think that she didn’t believe in him.

"I was going to say that perhaps he reacted to you that way because you are both hybrids of a sort… "

"It’s okay, Momiji. I understand –"

"I want you to know that I don’t believe Sakura," she babbled on, still feeling anxious, "I know I sounded like I did, but that’s only because – you seem so… well you seem to know how to, uh, how to… you seem to know what, uh," Momiji grimaced at how muddled she sounded, but she kept plodding away, and Kusanagi quirked his lips in amusement.

He knew he should stop her, knew what it was she was trying to say, but he couldn’t deny his ego the pleasure of hearing her tell him that he made her feel good.

"What I m-mean is, when we – uh, " Momiji gasped, feeling herself heat up in embarrassment.

How was she supposed to explain what she wanted to say without making it sound like she wanted him to rip all her clothes off? - Jeez, she realized in consternation, the more she tried to tell him, the more she did wish he would rip all of her clothes off! But she couldn’t tell him that!! Dear lord, just let me die now! she mentally groaned in humiliation.

"Wh-what I mean is," she finally managed after a deep breath, "you seem to know so much about… girls - and I had never stopped to think how you might… know… so much… and… I began to wonder – not that I have a right to know… and I…. realize that you would never…" Oh god, it was just getting worse and worse! she lamented silently.

His quiet chuckle made her stop staring at his chest and focus on his face. He was watching her, gentle amusement in his cat-like eyes. She didn’t know why, but she felt relieved seeing his expression.

"It’s a good thing you’re not a public speaker, Princess," he teased and she laughed weakly. "- Momiji," he began suddenly and then paused, looking like he wanted to say something important; but all he added was, "Go lay the baby down."

Momiji nodded and moved quietly around him, heading for the stairs. Once she had disappeared from sight, Kusanagi reached over and unplugged the phone before turning to head into the kitchen.

Momiji had just laid Noa down in his crib and was in the painful process of trying to remove her coat when Kusanagi came into her room. She stopped when she saw him, her lacerated shoulder still stuck in its sleeve. What did he want? she wondered, before her green eyes pivoted downwards. His arms and hands were cluttered: towels slung across one arm, her first aid kit tucked under the other, and in his hand a bowl of water. Things to help clean her back, she surmised. But what was he planning to do with those? she pondered uneasily as her eyes lit on a pair of scissors he was grasping.

"What are those for?" she asked, staring at the stainless steel blades, still standing half in, half out of her coat.

Kusanagi raised a quizzical eyebrow at her question but remained silent for a moment. Putting the towels on the bed, and the first aid kit and bowl of water on her night-stand, he sauntered towards her, the scissors still in his hand

"These?" Kusanagi raised the scissors and looked at them, snapping them open and closed a few times before he flashed her a lazy grin, "These are to help me get into your pants, Princess."

It took a moment for the full impact of his words to register. When they did, Momiji’s eyes widened and she took an involuntary step back, remembering, with alarm, the heart panties she was wearing. It really shouldn’t matter if he saw them, since she had already blurted out what was written across them. But somehow it did, and she would rather sit naked in a hornet’s nest than let him see her wearing them.

If he saw them, especially after what she had said last night, he would mostly likely think she had some kind of… perverted fetish! Besides that, it was humiliating enough to have to remember that he had failed to respond to her spontaneous ‘I love you’, and she didn’t wish to live a repeat of that incident.

"Wait! Y-you don’t need those to get into my pants," she quickly stammered.

Kusanagi’s smile took on a perverted twist. "Oh, really? I can’t tell you how it touches me to know that you would let me into your pants without them, Princess. - You really do make it too easy for me."

The low, seductive tone of his voice, belied the amused glimmer in his eyes, and Momiji couldn’t tell if his last comment referred to her poor choice of words or the fact that she had basically said he could have her if he wanted her. Without thinking, she let her eyes trail wistfully over his broad shoulders and the well-sculpted muscles that were outlined against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Her humiliation of the night before was momentarily squashed as other images crowded in on top of it; images of him hovering above her, kissing her, caressing her, and the beginnings of a churning desire gnawed at her insides.

Idiot! A sharp voice in her brain cried in warning. Have you no pride? it demanded. Stop thinking of how good it felt last night and start thinking of a way to get him out of your room before he gets a chance to use those scissors!

Clearing her throat, Momiji looked away from him and began mumbling protests.

She managed to take several steps away from him on rubbery legs before Kusanagi chuckled softly and said, "You act like I’m going to chew you up and spit you out, Princess." He had seen her eyes rove over him and knew that she wanted him, but she didn’t want him to know. Too late, Momiji, he thought, he already knew and he planned on taking full advantage of it. "But what a waste that would be, considering how good you taste."

Momiji gaped at him, unsure how to handle his remark and he sauntered forward while she tried to recover, watching him with a wary light in her eyes. When he was just a few feet away, he looked down at her with raised eyebrows and murmured in a smooth voice, "I believe I recall a certain conversation between us, Princess, and I wonder if you remember it as well."

"What conversation would that be? She asked, still a little flustered.

"When I was sick, and you were most insistent in helping me to recover. Do you recall it?" he asked.

"Er, well," she hedged, "I remember what a grumpy patient you made."

"That’s not what I’m talking about," he said in a damp voice. "I believe it had less to do with me and more to do with your bedside manner. Something about reminding me to teach you the right way to play doctor." Momiji knew exactly what he was talking about now, and her expression froze with his next words. "Well, guess what, Princess. Class has started. Although I don’t think you’ll need a pencil or paper for this lesson, and any field study you might wish to do … I’m all for it." Kusanagi grinned wickedly, and took another step forward, reaching out for her, "Here," he murmured, and Momiji stared, as if mesmerized, at the scissors in his hand. "It will hurt a lot less if you let me use these to remove your –"

Your pride! her brain screamed desperately at her. Remember, your pride is hanging by the seat of your pants! Making one last desperate attempt to hang on to her dignity, Momiji evaded his grasp, her arm still hanging limply in her coat sleeve.

"N-no, really, I can do this by myself, Kusanagi," she quickly reassured him as he paused, scissors poised aloft. "I don’t think I’ll need your assistance."

"I highly doubt that," he replied skeptically. "You can’t even get out of your coat, Momiji."

"Yes I can," she defended diffidently. "It’s just you startled me in the middle of doing it." To prove her point, she quickly shrugged her shoulder and tried to pull the sleeve off. Immediately, jets of pain shot up her back. Momiji stiffened to keep from crying out and Kusanagi’s cynicism dissipated into irritated concern.

"Idiot!" He reproved. Tucking the scissors into his back pocket, he reached out, gently took her elbow, and slowly began working her coat off. The next time he spoke, it was in a whisper close to her ear. "You should think before you do things like that, Princess. You might give me the impression that you don’t want me to… touch you."

"I don’t," she said numbly and then, realizing how that sounded, hurriedly stuttered, "no, that’s not what I meant. I meant that it’s not that I don’t want you to touch me; it’s just that, I don’t want… I don’t need…" she stumbled clumsily for an explanation, knowing that she couldn’t just blurt out, "I want you to touch me, just not while I’m graphically advertising my heart across my butt." Swallowing her desperation, she managed in a quasi - normal voice, "There’s no need for you to go to all this trouble, Kusanagi. You’ve had a long day, and I’m sure you’re tired. I can do this by myself, you know - I’m a very capable person."

"Uh-huh," was all he said, sounding unimpressed and unconvinced. Kusanagi finished pulling her coat free, and with a sigh, he let go of her elbow, his hand coming up to brush the backs of his fingers along her cheek, tucking a stray wisp of chestnut hair behind her ear. "You really are a terrible liar, you know that?"

Momiji’s breath caught in her throat then and she silently groaned. His voice was so gentle, and his caress was so soft. She wanted to lean into it with all her heart and soul; she really did. But her pride, and a blaringly bright image of a red heart floating in front of her eyes kept her from doing it.

Chancing a quick glance up into his face, she saw that his eyes were focused on her mouth and she could read his intent in his expression. If he kissed her, Momiji didn’t think she would be able to hold off from succumbing to the raw, sexual energy he was giving off. But then, almost as if he had sensed her weakness, he blinked and the expression was gone. He stepped away from her, and instead of feeling relieved, Momiji experienced a sense of let down.

Idiot! This is what you want, she scolded silently. The more distance he puts between you, the safer you’ll be.

Trying to make herself believe that, she watched as he turned away from her to throw her coat into the chair by the window. Then with casual strides he crossed the room, going around to the other side of her bed where he crouched down and all she could see was the top of his head.

What in the world? she thought in utter bafflement. Standing on her tiptoes, she tried to get a glimpse at what he was doing. She still couldn’t see, so she took a few steps closer, stopping when his face popped up over the mattress and he pushed at it, moving it slightly.

"Is there something the matter with my bed?" she asked faintly.

His eyes darted to her and he flashed her a grin before his head disappeared again. "No, not your bed – your phone," his voice floated breezily back to her.

"What’s wrong with my phone?"

"It works," came the teasing response, "which is why I’m unhooking it."

Momiji stared blankly at the top of his head. "- But why?"

There was a click and a satisfied grunt; then Kusanagi’s head reappeared along with the rest of his body as he stood and pushed the mattress back into place.

He smiled again, an unholy glint in his eyes.

"If I’m going to teach you to play doctor, I want our lesson to be private and without interruption," he answered.

"But I thought I told you I could do that myself," Momiji mumbled redundantly.

Kusanagi leaned over and grabbed several towels off the bed, going around to soak one of them in the bowl of water before he replied in an unconcerned voice, "And I thought I told you that you were a terrible liar." Finally ready, he pulled the scissors out of his back pocket and swiveled around, looking at her with steady determination as he moved towards her with his cat-like grace.

Uh oh.