Banner by the always talented @cakeit0n for @sesskagddn. Thank you for always hosting these, I always get such a kick out of them!
Summary: After an incident abroad sends Kagome to the hospital, she ends up crossing paths with a familiar face.
Read it on Ao3, Dokuga, and FFnet.
Inspiration: "Dying in LA" by PANIC! At the Disco
Triggers/Warnings: Hospitals, bar fights
The whisperings had started early, filtering through the hallways like a mouse caught in a cage.
The elusive Dr. Yasei, the emergency room pediatrician who only treated adolescent patients, had been seen carrying an adult female through the ICU. The ambulance had barely come to a stop before he'd wrenched the doors open, yelling terse commands at the paramedics.
According to the current nursing staff, anyway.
Kagome Higurashi didn't see what the big deal was; doctors did that all the time. And considering how much blood had been on her clothes, she wasn't surprised that she'd been deemed an emergency. And she'd said as much to the woman who'd come in to check her chart.
The stocky nurse shook her head. "It's one thing for doctors to leave their station, Miss Higurashi, but Dr. Yasei doesn't leave the NICU if he can help it. And even then, he's never seen to the aid of anyone but children."
Kagome would've crossed her arms, but her broken arm and long line of stitches along her ribs made it impossible to do so.
They'd hooked her up to some morphine, and while it alleviated the pain pulsing up and down her entire left side, it also made her groggy, bringing back memories of Mukotsu's poison.
She'd rather deal with the pain than relive that particular nightmare.
"Even though everything looks stable," the nurse said, "we'll need to keep you here for a day or so. It was a clean cut, but the metal was rusty, so there's a risk of infection."
"Besides, Dr. Yasei said he wanted to check on you himself, so we can't have you running away just yet." She winked, laughing at what seemed to be an inside joke.
"I'll be sure to leave him a thank you note, then," Kagome said, not wanting to prolong her stay.
The nurse chuckled, doing a final check on the fluids hooked up to Kagome's other arm before heading to the next room.
Kagome stifled a groan and leaned back against her pillow. There went the rest of her vacation funds.
She'd been saving for this trip for a year. A year of working two—sometimes three—jobs. All so she could travel the world without worrying about finances.
And now her bank account would bear the brunt of being hospitalized in the United States.
She'd purchased the best insurance, having read the horror stories of getting caught in a foreign country without it, but even with the coverage, she knew there would be a hefty bill when she left.
Gazing out the window, she cursed her inability to leave well enough alone.
The tour bus had stopped at a local pub known for its flair bartending show, but a few others on the bus had spent the morning drinking, already blitzed by the time the server had asked for their order.
It had only taken one lewd comment for Kagome to intervene.
Sighing, she ran her free hand through her hair. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut? She was nobody's champion.
And especially not when her adversaries were human and carried rusty switchblades in their pockets.
The two men had been quickly subdued, but not before slicing through fabric and flesh and shoving her into a stack of wooden chairs.
At least her diagnosis was encouraging. She hadn't needed surgery, thank goodness, just a simple stitch-up and a cast.
Kagome wondered if she'd have to stick around to testify. Most of the other tourists had had their phones out, so the entire thing was caught on film—maybe the police could use that instead.
Seeing how she could barely move, she'd probably have to redo her schedule anyway. She'd made sure to keep her plans flexible in case of emergencies—though she never thought it would be an actual emergency.
"I should probably call Mama," she mused allowed, resigning herself to the tirade that would be her mother's 'I told you so' on the other end of the phone.
The young med-student frowned, then looked down at her paperwork. "Are you confused about your doses? It's pretty straightforward, but I can go over it again if you like."
Kagome shook her head, then pointed at the paper in her hand. "Not that, this!"
"Were you overcharged for something? Triage should've asked for your insurance details when you first arrived," the woman defended.
"No, the complete opposite. It says the balance I owe is zero."
The student suddenly pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. "Oh! Sorry, that's my fault. I was supposed to tell you that all your expenses have been covered." She handed Kagome the note, then adjusted her cart and pushed it out of her room. "Make sure you stay on top of your meds!"
Kagome's mouth dropped open as the woman left.
Her expenses had been covered? Why? And by who? She opened the note, once again taken aback.
Wasn't that the name of the pediatrician that had carried her into the hospital? She didn't remember much from the ambulance ride, both from the blood loss and the searing pain in her side. She couldn't even put a face to the name.
Why did someone in charge of the children's ward need to talk to her? Did he feel responsible? Kagome couldn't see how, considering he was nowhere near the pub when she was attacked.
Stranger still, the note was in Japanese.
The hours ticked by, each one reinforcing Kagome's disquiet. Every time she tried to inquire about Dr. Yasei's whereabouts, she was either told he'd be by shortly or there was someone else in need of care and was promptly ignored.
"They probably wouldn't even notice if I left," she grumbled.
"Perhaps not, but then I would have to chase you down." The low timbre of his voice stirred something at the back of her mind, but the contrast of his dark hair and eyes made her frown.
"Indeed. How are you feeling?"
The demand for answers was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. He was a stranger and hadn't done anything to warrant her ire. "As well as can be expected, considering."
He considered her for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "You never were one to complain."
He spoke as if he knew her. Frown deepening, Kagome switched tactics. And languages. "Have we met before?"
"We have," he said, his Japanese as flawless as his English, "though I am certain there were times when you wished we had not."
"And yet you paid my hospital bill."
"Why?" she probed when he gave no response.
"A multitude of reasons."
Blue eyes narrowed. "Give me one."
A familiar smirk touched his lips. "Because I wished it."
Kagome bristled at his easygoing tone. "That makes no sense!"
"Should it not?" Dr. Yasei ran a hand through his hair, the movement continuing past the end of his dark locks, as if he was used to it being longer. "When have I done anything but?"
It was more than just the arrogance of a doctor; there was something more, something ingrained.
His name escaped her lips before she could think better of it, barely more than a whisper, but it made his eyes glow all the same. His hands slid into the pockets of his lab coat, his demeanour relaxed. "Hello, Kagome."
Sesshoumaru was alive. And he knew her name. Kagome couldn't decide which one shocked her more.
"Are you expecting a favour in return for your generosity?" she asked, thankful she was still sitting on her bed, unsure if her legs would support her had she been standing.
"I would settle for a conversation."
"Anything." The desperation in the word caused the butterflies in her stomach to take flight.
"Just a conversation?" she whispered.
The look he gave her was deadly. "Perhaps."
Swallowing, she nodded, allowing him to lead her out of the hospital and into his car, the hand on the small of her back burning her skin through her clothes.
"Do you have any other plans during your trip?"
She did. A million of them. Places she wanted to see, things she wanted to experience. But as she looked at him, studying his profile as he put his car in gear, they all seemed unimportant.
"Nothing that can't be postponed," she said.
The smirk returned, and she flushed, wondering if he could smell her lie even through the glamour. "I shall endeavour not to waste your time then."
The flush deepened, something in his tone making her think there was more to this conversation than she initially thought. But as he pulled into traffic, she found that she didn't care, the lingering wanderlust that had propelled her to travel suddenly dissipating.
Perhaps she'd stay in the States a little longer.
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