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Just Baked by ShadyMinion

Just Baked

Just Baked

She couldn't tell exactly, what had awoken her in the middle of the night, but it had left her unable to fall asleep once more. She sat at her kitchen table, one lone light shining above her head, illuminating the tiny room. A robe was loosely tied over her pajamas, and a pair of fuzzy slippers adorned her feet. A steaming mug was loosely grasped by the handle in one hand, and cradled in the other. She blew on it lightly, watching the rising steam billow out into the night air.

From where she sat, she could peer directly into the kitchen. Glowing numbers counted down slowly on her oven display. About ten more minutes left. Heat bars, glowing red, peered out through the small, tinted square of a window on the door to her oven. A tray of cookies was silhouetted within. Above, cooling on a rack, a cake sat in a shallow pan, wafting it's delicious scent throughout the kitchen.

It was almost ridiculous, the amount of baking she had done around two am in the morning. It wasn't really like her to be so productive in the middle of the night. But, as much as she would have liked to sleep, the nighttime rest eluded her, and she hated being idle. Baking seemed to be a good distraction at the time.

Dishes, mixing bowls, spoons, and spatulas were neatly organized in the drying rack by her sink. A pot of tea sat on the stovetop. Her kitchen was neatly in order, and she waited for her cookies to finish in the dim light of a single bulb. An open book lay unread in front of her. Fingers rested lightly on it's pages, fingering the edges. She closed the book slowly. She would not read it tonight.

Her hand returned to cradling the cup of hot tea. She inhaled deeply. Green tea was often harsh and bitter if brewed too strongly, but she had made hers thin. The heated water was tinged with only the slightest of color, enough for the flavor and scent of the tea to permeate, but not enough to be to rough on her throat. She took slow, small sips, relishing the way the hot liquid burned on its way down. A happy little sigh escaped her lips.

Tonight was more of a night for contemplation.

Kagome sat, alone in her kitchen, with only the ticking of a nearby clock to accompany her thoughts.

It had been years since the door to her childhood had suddenly closed behind her, leaving her alone in a world she was unaccustomed to. She had become a grown woman now, with a job, responsibilities, and a place of her own. Yet, every once in a while, nostalgia would hit her. She missed the past, not just hers, but that of ancient Japan. She had left behind so much when the gateway swung shut, locking her on one side of an impenetrable passageway.

Sometimes she wondered what had become of the friends she had made, and what stories they would pass on to the future. She wondered what affect her traveling had done to the present. But mostly, she hoped that her adventures had not just been the dreams of a whimsical young girl.

She held no delusions about herself. She had been young then, just a child. Her time spent traveling in the other era had taught her so much. But since then, she had not seen a shred of evidence that such things had existed in the past. It saddened her to think that so many wonders had faded to time. The world had lost so much when it had lost it's past.

A few times, she had thought of writing a book about it, a journal of her adventures. She could easily pass it off as fiction, but a small part of her hoped that someone out there would read it, and recognize, and believe. The magic was real. It was almost hard to convince herself though.

Any lingering power she might have possessed had disappeared, vanished as the well had closed. She finished maturing in her present time, and had learned the lessons of modern adults. It was almost tedious, the mundaneness of this time. Everyone had a routine, and did what was expected of them. Day after day, with little change or variation from the norm. It was a peaceful, yet boring life.

Kagome downed the rest of her tea and stood up to refill her mug. The pot on the stove was still piping hot. She carefully poured the steaming liquid into her mug, and sat back down.

Her eyes stared at the oven time. Four more minutes.

The smell of chocolate was strong in the air, mixed in with the subtle, yet heavy scent of melted butter. Chocolate chip cookies had been among her favorites, and she made one hell of a cookie. Before she went to bed, she would eat a cookie while it was still warm, fresh from the oven. Just one though, a little late night treat.

Her mind wandered again, as there was little else to catch her attention in her silent and dark apartment. Beeping broke her out of her reverie, and she stood, setting her mug down on a coaster. She turned off the oven, and with one gloved hand, removed the hot tray from the oven. She set it on a prepared rack to cool.

The cookies had baked to a perfect golden brown, the chocolate chips, glistening melted rounds of bittersweet sin. A small smile tilted her lips.

She looked up as the whine of police sirens passed by her window. Odd, she should have heard them down the street. Her window had been open to allow the cool night in, as well as help her baked goods cool. It was amazing how hot her kitchen could get from her oven alone. The suddenness of the sound had surprised her. She shook her head. She must have just not noticed.

Kagome pulled out a large plate from a nearby cupboard and flipped her cake out onto it. The cake would finish cooling on the plate, she would cut into two layers, and frost it in the morning. She gently pressed her fingers onto it's cooled surface. A bit of heat remained in the center of the cake, but it was soft and springy to the touch. Perfect.

A large bowl of frosting was sitting covered in her refrigerator. Rich chocolate frosting to cover her yellow cake. Yummy.

She contemplated what she would do with the cake. Perhaps visit her brother. He was dorming at the school, and he barely ate anything good for him. She would do a bit of cooking to bring over. Tomorrow he had no classes, and he probably wouldn't go out, so he should still be there should she make a surprise visit. Besides, he could use a bit of homemade food. He ate too much cup ramen, as far as she was concerned. It might be nutritious enough for hanyous, but not for her little brother.

She placed the now empty cake pan into her sink. She would clean it in the morning. She returned to her seat at the table, keeping an almost silent vigil over her baked goods. The cookies would require about ten more minutes to cool before they were solid enough to move. Any sooner, and they'd break apart on her.

She couldn't help but grin as she remembered how Shippou had learned that lesson. Kaede had taught her how to use the 'ovens' of that time, and she had figured it would be a nice treat to bake there one time. So she had brought over all the ingredients and tools they would need to make a nice batch of chocolate chip cookies. With the smell of baking chocolate wafting over the entire village, it was needless to say that she had garnered quite the attention that day.

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She had just pulled the hot tray from the coals and hardly two minutes had passed before Shippou had tried to, not so subtly, remove a cookie from her notice. It had broken to crumbs quickly, the soft cookie not yet cooled enough to hold it's shape. Yet Shippou remained undaunted, happily licking at the melted chocolate which coated his paws. Inuyasha watched from close by, his eyes never once leaving the tray as soon as the smell of chocolate had hit his sensitive nose.

Kagome had laughed and mixed up another batch to bake as soon as the first finished cooling, so she could reuse the tray. She hadn't ever expected the results of that first batch of cookies, or what other interest she might have sparked from it's strange and inviting scent.

He had appeared quite suddenly. Simply emerging from the woods without preamble or forewarning. Not even Inuyasha had sensed him until he had come into visual range.

Sesshoumaru stood at the edge of the village, his eyes trained on Kagome as she stooped over the open coals, a tray held in one mittened hand. Her wide eyes couldn't hide their surprise or shock at his appearance. And as confused as she was, she could still pick him out. He emitted no malice or ill will, no battle aura. Just curiosity buried behind a wall of ice.

Inuyasha cared for none of that, was in his elder brother's face in an instant, brandishing his father's sword.

"Whaddaya want, bastard?" The hot-headed hanyou had demanded.

Sesshoumaru all but ignored him, his focus never wavering from the girl from the future.

She read the curiosity in his eyes. He wanted to know what she was doing, and what she held in her hands. Nothing in the feudal era ever smelled even close to what she possessed. It was enticing, and almost addicting.

A half smile on her lips, she shook the tray gently, loosening the cookies. She slid them onto a plate and wrapped a few into a napkin, taking another cookie in one hand. She stood and walked across toward the demon, Inuyasha growling into her ear as she passed him. She just gave him a reassuring look. She didn't think Sesshoumaru would hurt her. His intent was far from violence.

She stopped a few feet from him and held out her small offering. He glanced at it warily. Her other hand raised, the cookie held loosely in her fingers. She bit into it, smiling as she chewed. His eyes narrowed slightly. Behind her, she knew that Shippou and the others were digging into the plate of cookies. And Inuyasha stood indecisive. Stay and protect her, or run back and stake his claim on the baked goods. With one more suspicious glance at his brother, he was back at the makeshift kitchen, munching down on the cookies.

Slowly, a clawed hand extended, taking the proffered gift. He gave her a single nod, and turned his back on her to disappear into the woods once more.

Though his appearance and disappearance were short and abrupt, she couldn't help but be left with a warm feeling in her belly. Sesshoumaru was far from a bad person, and he had accepted her gift. It was something she couldn't imaging happening, ever. She hoped he liked them.

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Kagome smiled at the memory. It was the last time she had seen Sesshoumaru. Shortly thereafter, her adventures had come to an unexpected end. She never had any time to get to know him better, and she surmised that to her, he would always be the mysterious Taiyoukai of the Western Lands.

The shrill of sirens returned, passing by even closer than before. She briefly wondered if she should turn on the TV to maybe catch breaking news. She hoped that nothing bad was happening in her neighborhood. Many elderly people lived in this complex. She wouldn't want them in undue danger.

A sudden rustling made her jump. It was so close. Her senses on high alert, her eyes picked out the moving silhouette in her apartment, despite the lack of light. Someone had just broken into her apartment! Wait, she hadn't closed her window, had she? Well, it was her own fault then. She quickly backed away from the light of her kitchen, draping herself in shadow. A kitchen knife made its way into her hand as she stalked forward toward the intruder.

No one would mess with the home of Higurashi Kagome. She had gone through too much in her life to be burglarized and terrorized in this time.

Stealthily, she made her way toward the figure. The intruder had remained crouching by her window, his back turned to her. He seemed to just be looking out the window. Belated she remembered the sirens. The police were probably chasing this man. Just her luck that he would choose her apartment as his hideaway.

He turned suddenly, his eyes picking her out from the shadows. "Wait." He begged softly. "Please, I won't hurt you." His voice was low and smooth, tinted with slight desperation to belay his calmness.

"What do you want?" She replied, just as quietly. Her knife was held carefully out of his range of sight. She didn't need him thinking that she was threatening him, nor did she want him to overestimate her.

"Just a few hours, please. I mean you no harm." He continued softly.

"The police are after you?" She asked.

She saw him nod. Well, at least he was an honest person.

"But it's not what you think. I didn't hurt anyone, nor rob them."

Not a burglar? "Then why?"

She saw his shape shrug.

"The wrong place at the wrong time."

She studied him. Though her powers of purification had long since disappeared, she still retained her natural empathy. She sensed that he wasn't lying, nor did he possess any ill will. He was a stranger to her, yet a part of him rang familiar. His speech was cautious, but modern. Every part of him was unfamiliar to her, should have been. But she sensed that he wasn't a stranger. He wasn't a stranger in her home.

"Alright then. Here, come away from the window." She gestured with one hand. Whatever he had done, it was not her place to judge.

He didn't move for a moment, hesitantly making his way forward.

"It's alright." She said reassuringly. She moved past him to close the window. "I won't turn you in." She closed the curtains.

"You are too trusting." The man said quietly. "To turn your back on a complete stranger." His voice was both controlled and confused.

"I don't think you'll hurt me." She replied. "Isn't that what you claimed yourself?"

"I could have been lying." His voice was now laced with cautious suspicion. He hadn't expected her to let him in so easily.

"You wouldn't have hurt me." She said confidently, turning to face him. Her eyes were shining, bright and aware. She knew exactly what kind of position she had placed herself in.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her in the darkness. Her eyes were too knowing, as if she could read him, see through him. She was a strange one.

Once more she walked passed him.

"Come into the kitchen." She invited. "I have some cookies that just came out."

The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the room. He knew that she couldn't have anticipated his arrival, nor have done anything to prepare for him. She wouldn't try to poison him, or club him over the head and call the cops. He couldn't help but wonder why she was baking at two am in the morning, though.

He followed her silently into the kitchen. There, she set down a plate with three cookies on it, and a steaming mug of light tea.

"I brew my tea thin," she was saying as she laid out an extra setting for him. "Green tea is a bit harsh for me, yet I still enjoy the flavor."

He simply watched her as she set things on the table. Eventually she looked up, and with a pointed look, gestured him to the seat she had pulled out for him. He didn't move. If he entered the kitchen fully, she would get a complete look at him. He needed to be unrecognized, didn't need another witness.

Kagome wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. She wouldn't turn him in to the authorities. But she understood his caution and distrust, even if there was no need. She gestured once more. "It's rude to not accept the invitation of the hostess." She pointed out. "And the tea will get cold. You're probably tired from the run, might as well rest and refuel now." She said idly.

She didn't look up as she took her own seat at the table, flipping her book open. She had returned the knife to where it belonged while he wasn't watching her. She didn't need him thinking she would stab him. He was harmless, she could tell.

There was silence from his corner as the minutes ticked by. Finally, after she had reread the same paragraph for the seventh time, she heard him sit down. She looked up with a smile. She found that the man was more of a boy, appearing younger than herself. He had short cropped black hair, and almond-shaped violet eyes. He seemed to be in his late teens or early twenties. His eyes were darting about the room, searching.

He was thin and youthful in body, but his face and eyes bore the signs of a forced maturation. He had grown up quickly. A boy on the streets. There was little she could do for him, and from his independent attitude, even less that he would accept from her. She understood.

She merely raised her mug in invitation, taking a sip. He stared at the cup. With slow motions, he lifted it and took a sip as well. From his pallor, he needed the nutrition. The boy was too pale. She watched as he finished his tea, and she rose to refill his mug. "You need to eat, boy." She said, reminding herself of her mother. "You're like my little brother, all skin and bones." She slid the plate of cookies closer. "Eat."

She reset the pot on the stove and pulled out a pan. "Do you like eggs?" She asked. She could feel his confused stare on her back. She looked over her shoulder, cocking a brow. His expression was that of a half-starved boy. "Hm."

She removed a bowl from the drying rack and picked up three eggs and some cheese from her fridge, as well as lump of butter and some bacon. She scrambled the eggs in the bowl, pouring it into the pan, and within a few minutes, placed a steaming plate before the boy.

He looked at her through narrow eyes. "I don't need your pity." He said coldly, a voice bred from isolated independence.

"It's not pity." Kagome replied calmly. "It's hospitality. Just eat up."

"I won't give you anything in return."

She handed him a fork. "I wasn't expecting anything." She patted him on the head.

He glared at her for a full minute. Kagome, a smile on her lips, didn't falter under his intense scrutiny. He took the fork grudgingly.

Thatta boy. "Want some milk?"

She laughed at his answering glare. She sat back down and returned her gaze to her book. Her attention was far from the printed pages though. She was all ears, listening to the scrape of the fork against the plate, and the occasional slurps of tea. After a few minutes, the boy had fallen silent. Kagome looked up to see what was wrong. She found him staring at the three cookies she had initially offered him, an unreadable look in his eyes.

He looked up to meet her gaze, then turned to look out the window. The streets had emptied of the searching police. He took a napkin and wrapped the cookies up in them, pocketing it. He stood from the table, turning his back to her as he headed toward the window.

She did nothing to stop him.

As he parted the curtains and opened the window, he turned back. "Thank you." He said quietly, and slipped through.

She smiled and nodded, the gesture never noted by the boy. She smiled to herself.

Sesshoumaru had always been a fleeting figure in her life. Whether it was in this life or the next, she was sure, he would always be.

End

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SM: The boy was Sesshoumaru's reincarnation. Just in case I was too vague.

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