Three Sheets to the Wind by Drosselmeyer

Chapter 1

Warning up front: this is a humor piece about a drunken Kagome that contains non-consensual, Miroku-esque groping. Some may be uncomfortable with this, so I want to make a note of it before the story continues. That being said, this is a lighthearted piece.


That she was drunk was apparent.


Her head lolled to the side to look at him, glazed blue eyes trying—and failing—to fix on his face from where she leaned against the well. “You.”

The harsh stench of distilled spirits blew across the night air as she spoke, and Sesshoumaru recoiled.

She reeked.

“Perhaps you should have ceased your celebration earlier,” he said, looking down at her in disgust.

A sharp, bitter bark of laughter clapped out of her. “This would be lamenting.” Kagome tried to look at his face again, but her eyes wouldn’t focus. “I failed.”

He made the mistake of allowing his confusion to show, and the miko took it as an opening.

“My test.” she said flatly. A glass bottle appeared out of nowhere, and she brought it to her lips, swigging down a gulp in an unladylike manner.


“Yup.” She popped the p obnoxiously. “First of the semester, and this One”—she gave him a goofy grin as she mimicked his pattern of speech—“blew it.” She took another drink and slapped the bottle down on the ground, wrinkling her nose as the alcohol hit. “And probably a point zero eight too.”

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes, not particularly enjoying his ignorance of her jargon. “Point zero eight?”

Flopping to her side, Kagome pressed her cheek to the grass. “Means I’m drunk.” Her eyes slid back up to his, still glassy and unfocused. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”

When she reached for the bottle again, he swooped down and snatched it from her before chucking it into the well.


He glared. “You have had enough.”

The glass rang out as it smacked against the wood on its way down, followed by dull clanks as it bounced back and forth until it hit bottom.

Kagome pouted. “Bye-bye.”

Hauling her up, Sesshoumaru didn’t bother hiding his revulsion. “Drunkenness does not become you, Miko.”

She made a face, wavering in his grasp. “You know how to make a girl feel pretty.”

“Your validation is not my responsibility.” Deciding to attribute her obstinance to her inebriated state, he physically turned her in the direction of the village. “Walk.”

Kagome stumbled when he pushed her forward, but she started walking as he had asked. “Why are you helping me?” She tripped over something in the dark and would have face planted if his quick reflexes hadn’t caught her.

This One,” Sesshoumaru bit out, righting her on her feet yet again, “does not leave his allies vulnerable.” He gave her a look. “Foolish as they may be. Now, walk.”

“I don’t want to,” she whined. Whirling around unsteadily on her heel, she came face to face with him and had to crane her neck back to see his face. “Ooh, close.”

“You are an insufferable drunk,” he spat, reaching up to release the clasps on his armor. She was going back, even if he had to carry her. And the sooner she was out of his hair the better.

“You”—she poked her finger into his chest—“took my bottle.” She wavered again, reaching out to grab his arms for balance. “And it was a good one.”

A small, deceptively strong hand fisted his sleeve while the other gripped his forearm, and Sesshoumaru barely managed to release his armor without it falling onto her. It hit the forest floor with a heavy thud mere inches from her, and he nudged it aside with his foot.

“You should indulge less in self-pity.” Without another word, he bent and hoisted the stubborn miko up, flinging her none-too-gently over his left shoulder.

“What—whoa!” Kagome blew his hair out of her face, annoying raspberry sounds included, and kicked her legs. “I’m drunk—not a sack!”

“You are mulish and slow.” Ignoring her complaining, he started again for the village. “And you will sleep this off and come back to your senses.”

“You are not the fun brother,” she grumbled behind his back.

He ignored her insult and kept walking, the miko hanging loosely over his shoulder.  But other than random twitches as she adjusted or raised her head, she had calmed. And for a brief, glorious span of minutes, there was silence.

Key word: brief.

“Oh, my gods!”

Before he could snap at her to be quiet, two small hands slapped against him with a resounding thwack.

Right over his buttocks.

This is fantastic!”

Sesshoumaru clenched his teeth and doggedly refused to clench anything else. “Miko—"

“Why are you hiding this”—the word was punctuated with a firm squeeze—"under all that armor?”

“Miko,” he tried again, “unhand this One’s person. Now.

There was a not-so-subtle pout, but she let go and once again fell into silence.

Five minutes later…

“It’s a damn shame, Sesshoumaru.”

“Preoccupy yourself with something else, Miko.”

She groaned theatrically and shifted on his shoulder. “I can’t. Have you seen your ass?”

“Given that it is behind me, no, I have not.”

There was an unladylike snort and some more wiggling.

“Well, you’re missing out.”

The rest of the walk back to the village remained uneventful. There was not much Sesshoumaru could do to end her incessant chatter shy of rendering her unconscious or killing her, so he simply continued on, resigned to suffering her annoying, drunken musings and the occasional pat to his backside.

“Gods, it’s like it’s all muscle…”

He sighed. Maybe more than occasional.

“No wonder Kagura had a thing for you.”

His head fell back, and for a moment he clenched his eyes shut. Surely, he had not committed such atrocities in his life to deserve such … attention?

It was fair to say that by the end of their trek back, however, that his ears were bleeding and a certain part of him was as well. Or it was at least red—if that last resounding slap had any say in things.

Just as she gave up talking and began to sing, the village fires came into view.

“Oooh, wait! I smell fwood!”

Fwood? He quickened his pace, ignoring her slurring and the sudden protest at being bounced around more. The last bits she slugged down before he showed up must have kicked in. “You, Miko, need water.”

“Nah, water don’t taste good.” Her fingers drummed over his backside. “But dis might.”

Realization struck like lightning, and Sesshoumaru yanked her over his shoulder, pinning her to his chest before her drunkenness went a step too far for them both. “No.”

She pouted and then smiled, patting his face. “Could eat you pup.” Her brow furrowed, and wide blue eyes bore into his. “Up?”

His jaw ticked. “That is the word you wanted.”

She cackled. “Think pup works too.”

“Your humor is lacking.”

“Izzz not.” She poked at the corner of his mouth before he could gripe at her about her slurring. “Smile.”

He snapped at her finger.

“Oof, he bitey.” She grinned ear to ear and held her index finger up to his face. “Still haz it.”

His lips twitched. It was ridiculous, a childish act. And really, she should have known better than to badger him. But somehow that foolish grin—that stupid recklessness—teased the corners of his mouth.

Just barely.

Her eyes widened. “Are you smiling?”

He squashed it but not quickly enough.

The finger disappeared, and she grabbed his face. “Dooze it again.”

Cheeks slightly smushed, he tried to frown. “Your speech is unintelligible.”

She huffed and squished his cheeks harder, the effort seeming to take over her entire body as she spoke more slowly. “Do. It. Again.”

Beneath the shockingly tight grip on his face, a childlike excitement peeked out as she stared at him, waiting. He could see her expectation, her hope. But regardless, he didn’t feel inclined to indulge her curiosity and scowled. “I wir not.”

This time, his eyes widened.

The miko roared, releasing his face in her hilarity. “You slurred!”

Sesshoumaru ignored her, stretching his jaw, trying to restore some feeling. Surely, if she had been beside him instead of in his arms, she would have rolled across the ground like an escaped egg. “You exaggerate.”

Still laughing, she sucked in her cheeks and raised her hands to her face, flapping them strangely as she did. “You hadda fish face.” She laughed and did it again, her lips moving in an awkward vertical motion. “Fish and still hawt”—she patted his cheek—“with cheekbones.”

Incredulity broke free of his reserve. “What are you babbling about?”

The miko just smiled, the tip of her tongue behind her front teeth as she hissed and touched her pointer finger to her hip. “Hawt.”

He stared, not understanding her words. “Miko—”

“Oi, your legs broken, Kagome?”

Inuyasha stepped out of the darkness, quiet—too quiet. His suspicion radiated like heat on hot rock, unsavory accusations in his eyes, and Sesshoumaru narrowed his own, silently challenging him to give them voice. But fortunately, before the hanyou could ask, the miko managed to address his unspoken concerns for him.

“I’m drunk.” Glassy-eyed, the miko wiggled until he set her down, swaying precariously on her feet as she stepped toward his half-brother. “And Sheesh-Shessh-Sessth…”

Inuyasha raised both of his brows and tried to hide a laugh. “Having trouble there, Kagome?”

Her nose wrinkled, her swaying increasing just a bit more as confusion clouded her features. “Fluff Lord—”

Sesshoumaru bristled.

“—took my bottle.” She hooked a thumb back at herself and hiccupped. “And me too.”

“Yeah,” Inuyasha drawled, his tongue in his cheek. He gave Sesshoumaru another look before settling once again on the miko. “Probably for the best.”

Lifting his chin, Sesshoumaru ignored the miffed miko. “Sleep would be prudent.”

Kagome scowled and whirled around. “Hey, who do you think—”

“Nope, wench.” Before she could do something as foolish as jab her finger in his face, Inuyasha snatched her off her feet, trussing her over his shoulder like fresh kill. “He’s right.”

There was no time to enjoy his brother’s concession. As soon as Inuyasha restrained her, the miko started howling, her high-pitched protests grating on his hearing. Only the hanyou’s hold and quick steps away kept him from suffering the receiving end of her pointed digit’s indignation.

Spirted female, if not rash.

“Quit your yapping, will ya?” Inuyasha’s ears lay flat against his skull, and he gave her a shake. “You pull that tomorrow, and it’s your own head that’s gonna be splitting.”

“Hn. It would be deserved.”

Inuyasha shot him a look. “Don’t you get her started again either.” He turned to head back to the village but then paused, looking back over his shoulder. “And thanks.”

He elected to say nothing. The miko should have never been left alone in such a state, but he was not required to engage more than he already had.


As the stared at his brother’s back, the miko’s vernacular rattled through his head, its unfamiliarity more vexing now than the moments she’d babbled it in his ear. And, if anything, he did not much appreciate being unaware.


Ahead of him, the hanyou’s ears twitched.

“Your miko rambles.”

Inuyasha snorted, and said miko wriggled and fussed before he gave her a shake. “Yeah, she tends to do that. What’d she blabber about this time?”

His lips pursed as he tried to remember the word. “She said this One is hawt.”

The hanyou froze.

“This One is unfamiliar with the word’s meaning.”

When Inuyasha didn’t move or speak, he waited, his patience growing thin. But given the two ahead were the only ones with access to the information he desired, he waited.

And then, the miko snickered. “It means—”

No.” Inuyasha reached back and clamped a hand over her mouth, his irritation and incredulity radiating like wild garlic left out in the sun. Giving her what could only be described as a thwap over her backside—to which she indignantly screeched—he picked up his pace and made for the village. “What in all the hells is WRONG with you, Kagome!”

“It’s truuuuuuuuuuuue!”

“Fuck no, it ain’t!”

“Sorryyyyyyy, Fwishyyyyyyy!”

“Fwishy? Fuckin’ hell…you wanna die?”

As they disappeared, the miko howled, a split between anger and hilarity, while Inuyasha continued cursing into the darkness.

Sesshoumaru arched a brow and stopped, their behavior as erratic as the miko’s language, and he looked back toward the well. Perhaps it would be best to just go back. Besides, the bottle would likely still be there.

He smirked.


INUYASHA © Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan • Yomiuri TV • Sunrise 2000
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