Title: Unrequited Visual
Author: The Laughing Corpse
Genre: Hentai, one shot, yuri, shoujo-ai.
Rating: R
Fandom: InuYasha
Summary: A fantasy hoping to become reality. But, it will take one step at a time to get closer to her main goal. KagomexSango.
Warnings: Um, very watered down lesbian sex? It's mostly implied. Naughty thoughts, dreams and yeah. That's it.
A/N: I think Sango and Kagome would make one hot-ass lesbian couple. But, alas, it only happens in fanficverse. Hope you like this piece. This is the edited version. It's tasteful and implies sex, but it's pretty toned down from the original one. The italicized lyrics are supposed to be a raunchy song in the background Kagome is hearing from her MP3. This was written a while ago, like 2005, and I was thinking of the late 90s Kagome's modern era took place in so MP3's were all the rage at the time.
Disclaimer: I don't own the InuYasha series, I don't profit from this work of fiction. This is just for fun. I swear.

Unrequited Visual

Forget the past but don't forget who you are.
- Pamela Ferris

*Even in my world I feel cursed within…*

Beautiful callous fingers cupped her firm, round bottom. And with a tight squeeze of soft, smooth cheeks the strong, callous feminine fingers lifted the body of her lover up—elevating her lover's body over the demoness. The demoness, gazing up at her lover in a mesmerized manner, urged the woman above her to spread those creamy thighs and straddle her snug.

She, the demoness, moaned contently. Her head started thrashing back and forth and claws fastening around the young woman's hips. The sharp claw tips pricked the tender skin and blood steeped just a little. The youkai arched for the woman, urging her for her to continue the pleasure. Panting and gasping, the woman's insides spiraling in a tight, feverish bind as the mounting pressure of orgasmic release was approaching. The feverish heat and need perspired through her skin. Sweat was coating her body slick.

It just demonstrated the need and lust rushing through her coursing veins.

*The days go by… And I can't help obsessing about you…*

"Not…Now…" the beautiful demoness chastised, in breathy pants.

*You…*

"Not now with those little games—Oh, nah—Mmm—Ah," the woman groaned, losing her angry verbal stride.

The youkai smirked. Luscious, red lips puckering to blow kisses and then those kissable lips curled in a taunting smug. "Delicious," the youkai whispered softly, in a smooth tone. The woman leaned forward, her breasts pressing against the large, ample pair of breasts the demoness has.

The woman's lips covered the youkai's lips, invading her mouth and plunging playful tongues against each other.

*You…*

The youkai's strong hands gently pulled down on the woman's sturdy, yet soft, shoulder blades. The youkai's skilled fingers traced the taunt and sculpted muscles rippling with each twitch and movement. The woman's body was feminine, but beautifully toned and muscular. She has a warrior woman's body and it turned her on to have this body that shown athletics' and definition at her reach. Claw tips grazed carefully and teasingly down the woman's spine. Smooth skin tarnished by a single welt. A deep, long scar she imagined caused her warrior lover immense pain. The youkai ran her fingers over it. The temptation to run her tongue over the scar exceedingly strong.

*You…*

"Turn over…" the youkai whispered softly, pulling away from the woman's swollen and masochistically bruised lips from the force of passionate kisses and grazing of the youkai's fangs.

The demoness couldn't resist her idea in mind. She assisted the woman off of her and maneuvered her to sit up, turn around and lean against the railing of the bed. Holding her from behind, the youkai dipped her lips next to the shell of her warrior's ear and softly said, "Tell me you're mine and only mine."

The woman shuddered and replied, raggedly, a single: "I…"

Clawed fingers threaded along the girl's taut abdomen, tickling her skin's sensibility and moving slowly upward. "Tell me you're mine," she repeated, pressing opened mouthed kisses along the nape of the woman's neck. The woman's words were lost. She couldn't seem to gather the wits to form a coherent set of words and tell the youkai what she wanted to hear.

Growling, the demoness grabbed one of the woman's ample breasts, clutching them brutally in her palms. The woman gasped from the jolt of pain and surprise. "Aa…"

The demoness nipped downward along the column of the woman's long neck, leaving blotchy red marks behind and ending at her shoulder—gnawing non-too-gently on one of the woman's trembling shoulders. The female youkai didn't appreciate the silence emitting from her woman.

Kneading the woman's hardened nipples harshly, the youkai growled. She was situating the moaning woman in an unbearable position. The sensational, scalding moisture building below was driving her mad. Resistance is a futile effort—she erupted, "YES! I'm yours!"The woman cried, twisting back against the youkai's hold to plant an air-sucking kiss on her captor's lips.

The youkai continued to gently torture her lover. The woman arched into the youkai's touch.

*Whisper on in my ears, let those lavishing words splutter my heart and skin…*

"And who is yours?" asked the demoness, in a muffled, lust-filled tone. The demoness shifted onto her earlier objective, running her tongue on the blemishing scar embedded on the woman's small, but muscular back. The scar, to the demoness, was anything but hideous; a symbol of honor the female warrior gained. The significance of the scar provided an admiration and heightened the youkai's arousal for her. Caressing it, feeling it under the pads of her fingertips, somewhat brought her closer to the woman. It made her feel capable of visualizing the pain the woman has experienced.

Breathing heavy, ragged breaths—her senses tingling and fuzzy—the woman with the tousled dark brown hair, sticking to her shoulders and everywhere exposed with sticky sweat, uttered, "You are."

Wisps of her dark hair clung to her flushed sticky face. The woman's hair was slowly undoing itself and, yet, she couldn't force herself to give mind to it.

*I still remember the feeling beneath you…*

The clouded, dark eyes of the woman peered over her shoulder to watch the beautiful demoness tongue all around her scar, the youkai's obsession, which the demon lusts after. Trembling, the woman managed to say steadily, in a semi-croak tone, "You're ethereal."

Stroking her tongue up the trail of her lover's spine, the youkai paused and glanced up over at her lover with a misty-eyed gaze, locking her gaze with the woman's more sultry and less animalistic one. The woman ran a quick lick over her parched lips as she was gazing into the youkai's peculiar cat-like eyes. A momentary flecking effect flashed through those ghastly red colored eyes that memorized any victim staring into their murky depths. "As you are, my dear Sango."

Kagome woke up with a start, clutching her pounding heart beating brutal against her chest. Panting for air, she gulped selfish amounts to sustain herself. It felt as if she had been drowning under water for a period of time and after a painful struggle to surface again, she finally managed to grab a gulp full of air.

She frantically took in her surroundings. Looking around the dark, furnished room and not recognizing her environment. Where the heck was she?

"What—Where—" she started muttering jumbled nonsense from her frazzled nerves. She attempted to regulate her breathing in hopes to calm down and think through the situation with a clear mind and not go into a full-blown anxiety attack. Kagome analyzed the current state of affairs. She managed to slowly retrace all her memories leading up to now.

'Let's see…? I—Oh! Right.' She remembered now—A second later.

Miroku hoodwinked another lord using the "There's an ominous demon approaching" gag and tossing in his charming mannerisms for additional effect that guaranteed him and his fellow comrades room and board for the night.

The ignorant lord kindly offered them the full house treatment; a magnificent feast, fine clothing to change in, a private bathing room, best comfortable bedrooms and momentary peace and quiet. This was, of course, a requirement needed in order for the monk to follow through the extermination of the supposed "demon" posing a problem in the manor.

The deal, in which, also included the guaranteed word of the monk lending a helping hand with other "spiritual disturbances" in order to land all of them a five-star hotel type of hospitality.

After a luxurious hot bath, Kagome listened to some music she brought in her brand-new, handheld MP3 player, the latest rage sweeping Japan and soon the rest of the world of technology for now and fell asleep.

Kagome glanced toward the far end of the room, where Sango slept soundly on a comfortable futon. 'Sango…' Kagome thought, with almost a sense of longing.

The picture of Sango completely bare and crying her pleasure out passed through Kagome's mind as she unintentionally recalled the dream. She blushed, ashamed of her thoughts.

Kagome extracted the headphones from her ears and turned off her (now low battery, dammit) contraption. Kagome, again, questioned herself as to why she kept visualizing these ongoing fantasies in her dreams. It was even entering her small daydreams when she had the chance every now and then to idle away.

Every night was the same sequence, only the difference in the themes of her dreams, Sango starred as the lead role. The dreams always featured the slayer doing the naughty with different, random girls Kagome either met on the way in the feudal era while she traveled or already knew beforehand.

Tonight a pretty youkai female they met a little while ago was featured in her dream doing Sango. Each time she dreamt it, she couldn't prevent the mutual feeling of active, needy lust after she woke up.

It embarrassed her to acknowledge Sango as her fantasy sex object and act like nothing of the sort happened afterwards during the day time waking hours. It sickened her to feel like a pervert.

Yes. The statement is true. Kagome was a pervert leering at Sango shamelessly in her dreams.

Frowning, Kagome fanned herself with the makeshift fan she created out of folded paper and all the while tugging at her soaked pajamas that was sticking to her flushed skin for some sort of ventilation.

She immediately identified the hot built-up of feminine fluids leaking through her cotton underwear with full self-awareness. She came in her sleep!

She thanked the circumstances they were under that her friends were set in different rooms. Shippo, Kirara, InuYasha and Miroku were sleeping in a separate room and the two girls, like always, roomed in together.

The sleeping arrangements spared Kagome a chunk of embarrassment. Good thing InuYasha won't be able to sniff out her high tide state and act strangely around her. (Holy mother of everything that's good it would be so humiliating if the hanyou were to sniff her out).

The single flaw that made the relief of minor privacy cancel out was far worst. Sango was here. Sleeping. Alone. Side-by-side with Kagome.

Desiring her friend with lecherous intentions was so great a humiliation that it jabbed pangs of guilt through Kagome's chest. She valued Sango as a friend and a respectful person and she admired her character, a woman who can do just about anything for herself, which was not always the case for Kagome. Everything Sango was, Kagome failed to excel successfully herself.

'I…I really like you, Sango. I don't want you to hate me,' she thought, miserably. Dejected, she tugged on her covers, pulling them up to her chin.

Knowing Sango is an impossible catch sunk deep into Kagome. It was just a thing that wasn't going to go her way at all. Why? Well, there's the factor that Sango is in love with Miroku. The feeling is most definitely mutual between them.

Besides, scaring Sango away is the least thing she wants occurring. Kagome wouldn't be able to cope with that kind of rejection, and it certainly didn't help matters that InuYasha rejected her. She understood herself and accepted the taboo's consequence of being attracted to someone of the same sex. Not everyone is fine with it; she only hoped Sango wasn't in that lot. Nevertheless, she kept her emotions in check along with her fondness for InuYasha.

Sighing, Kagome sank into her comfortable futon, closing her eyes. She surrendered to the exhaustion sweeping her in once more. She did not return to the realm her fantasies took flight and gradually, with much effort, awakened the following morning very somber.

Kagome hopped into the well and the cool sensation of the metaphysical energy of the blue light whipped past her as she landed gently, touching the dry, soiled ground of the bottom of the dried up well. Kagome groped for the rope ladder she installed as she was previously forced to renovate the well to her conveniences. She climbed up carefully, balancing her backpack's weight and hers, all the while ensuring herself with caution she won't tilt over and kill herself from the fall.

Kagome reached the well's familiar opening, tossing her backpack forward first and then, she crept out, kicking one leg over the other.

It's still early in the day and she figured InuYasha and the others were minding around the village; collecting provisions for their next trip. Up north, right? She couldn't recall clearly and set to Kaede's welcoming hut.

"Hey everyone!" Kagome cheered joyfully, expecting to receive a warm greeting in return. She peeked inside and nobody was currently occupying the hut. No one's here. Mild disappointment did not stop her from settling in. Kagome plopped down, opening her heavy backpack that was beginning to strain annoyingly on her shoulder. She made a lunch box for everyone as she did last time; she anticipated one of her friends to arrive soon, otherwise the food will start to spoil. The work she put into the food would be a pitiful waste.

"And I worked all morning on these." She pouted, setting aside the pile of provisions.

The sound of footsteps approaching closer, Kagome glanced over at the doorway with curiosity of the visitor. Entering through the doorway was an exhausted Miroku and an equally lagging Sango, carrying a tied down section of neatly chopped pieces of wood.

Miroku greeted Kagome in his usual welcoming manner and Sango nodded her head, trying to force a tiny smile for Kagome. She appeared too angry for words. 'Miroku,' Kagome summoned the instant thought. He apparently is the main source connecting to Sango's on and off bad mood.

It's no stretch of the imagination for Kagome to come up with any to multiple scenarios in which the monk could tick off Sango, unbeknownst to him.

"What did you do this time to upset her?" Kagome asked Miroku, watching Sango avert sitting down beside Miroku, instead she moved to sit next to Kagome.

Kagome inwardly smiled in appreciation, but dismissed it. She would prefer her friends to remain on the best and most intimate of terms as much as it depressed her to see it in front of her.

"Absolutely nothing!" snapped Sango. The quick abrupt response curtly shred Miroku's fair opportunity to answer back in a full, more explanatory way. Sango always crushed signs of the existence her jealously. She was far too shy and proud to reveal their origins. Kagome knew deep down, past the aggressive exterior she's just as timid as the next girl when it comes to displaying her emotions.

"That's what I don't understand! See, Kagome, she hits me over the head sooo violently—" he ducked on reflex, avoiding Sango's hotly swipes of her lethal dagger she kept hidden in her armor, "—then claims there's nothing wrong," said the monk. Miroku finished his statement in his matter-of-factly tone. His passiveness was unaffected by Sango's attempts to cut him off.

Splashes of deep red embarrassment and anger dispersed across Sango's face. Kagome pushed her tight, but shaky restrain a notch to try not to giggle; it would upset Sango even further. "You mustn't allow jealousy to take full reign, sweet Sango," Miroku airily advised, sending a wink in her direction. Kagome couldn't hold it in and busted out, laughing.

Rolling her eyes, annoyed, Sango glared. Sango looked away, imaging a thousand daggers striking the monk in a single blow. The cynical lecher found amusement in putting her in this position in front of others. Thoroughly fuming, Sango gnashed her teeth together—biting the urge to bark back a nasty retort. But, what would she say? Miroku, unfortunately, was right. She didharbor the nasty green little monster constricting her chest, making her feel pangs of pain that sting and make her want to break things and denying the emotion for the purposes to protect her pride and her feelings that threatened to make her do irrational decisions failed to provide a believable front for her.

Miroku understood perfectly well he was tugging at his spare luck, but the reaction Sango demonstrated inflated his impulse to string it along a little longer. What can a bit of teasing hurt? There's no harm in poking Sango's weakness for him.

It was rather flattering.

His lips curling into the notorious grin he lured others in. Miroku began in a customary, smooth drawl, "I know you wanted to."

Sango twitched and, then, faced the smug monk who had the nerve to persist on badgering her about another thing.

Now what is it!

"I'm lost here." She raised her chin up.

"To kiss me," he clarified.

"Kiss you! Are you deranged?" Sango snapped, eyeing Miroku with a distraught look.

Kagome eyed him oddly, too. Kiss him? Obviously, everyone likes to be kissed, but to where Miroku was reeling in his teasing sat uneasy with Kagome. "Miro—"

"No, I'm not deranged. Implying that it is statement is an understatement," said Miroku, far too calmly. He thanked Kagome for the lunchbox as he resumed to digging in, clicking his chopsticks for added emphasis.

"Arrogant monk! Where did you get the idea I wanted to 'kiss you'? I just find that type of behavior you like to dish out from time-to-time very obscene for a follower of Buddha. Act like a monk, not like the dirty man you are," said Sango, sneering, her loud tone shaking unevenly. The redness staining her face appeared to not be disappearing any time soon.

"It doesn't change the matter at hand though," he continued. He swallowed a piece of beef—He's not supposed to eat meat! Kagome remembered, then dismissed it seeing he wasn't regretting it—"Then a test is in order. Kiss someone and prove you aren't jealous," said Miroku, sagely. He placed the challenge in a very assertive style it almost didn't seem intentionally wicked. Kagome felt her jaw hanging out in disbelief.

Sango appeared just as surprised as Kagome since she gaped in open disbelief as well. Just what in the seven layers of Hell and back did he say just now?

Is Nirvana shattering from above and come tumbling down?

—No, that would happen if Miroku did a 360 on his bad habits and behaviors and devote to Buddha like he was supposed to do a while ago.

But, it still didn't surprise the girls. The audacity the monk ran on astounded Sango and Kagome on a whole other level. 'What a cynical…' Sango balled her hands. The knuckles turning bone white from how tightly she clenched her fists. "You are…" her words choked within. Sango shook her head, openly disgusted by his twisted ways. How can someone so polite, well-mannered and kind be so cynical and manipulative without trying? She had no retort worthy enough to swing at him.

Miroku shrugged, beaming good-naturedly. He continued eating the delicious food which was engrossing all of his utmost attention. "See, regression is no good and it only leads to…More—uh, whoa." Stopping in mid-sentence, Miroku's train of voice and streak of confident flare came to a shocking, abrupt halt.

He did a double-take; trying to shift away from the stupor he found himself caught up in.

Kagome's lips fastened on Sango's numb lips. Kagome had leaned in, cupping Sango's beet-red face, and descending on the lips she so desired to kiss with her own. The deep-seeded desire to quench the fires inside her body and the fluttering feeling her heart craved for. Courage sustaining her, Kagome nipped gently on Sango's soft bottom lip and, then, she was stroking a tongue soothingly across the slayer's smooth lips. Her tongue's gentle probing was urging to provoke Sango's cooperation as Kagome slipped in her tongue inside Sango's mouth.

Timid and tender, Kagome took in the taste of Sango and quickly pulled away for a brief second to look into Sango's beautiful eyes with her genuine feelings of love and tenderness and pulled back in to place a feather-light kiss on Sango's quivering lips. Kagome wrenched herself away as the courage to act boldly through her raw, free feelings departing her system that was racing with adrenaline and jumpy nerves.

Heart pounding as loud and hard as the loudest drums, Kagome's nerve to meet the slayers' eyes diminished. Blushing bright pink, she stood up quickly and she rapidly was heading for the door. Afraid to accept the stunned as the famous Edvard Munch painting "The Scream" expression possessing Sango's face, she rushed out—but, not until she said to the ogling Miroku, "She's not afraid to kiss another. She just wants someone to go up to her and kiss her with passion, just like every girl wants."

She left in a huff, the beaten up mat door swinging behind her.

Miroku's was at a loss for words. He chose to—unwillingly, mind you—to remain silent. The slayer, on the other hand, touched her lips gently with the tips of her fingertips and her eyes blinked in surprise and, then, she was glancing at the door.

A single thought infused her mind, 'Kagome…'

Despite the startled reaction that came out of her, she couldn't seem to find a rhyme or reason to regret the actions of her dear friend and traveling companion, Kagome, in which she had the courage to bravely tackle of all the people out there.

And, shortly after pondering over it, the slayer thought with a tiny, secretive smile shaping her lips, 'No. I don't regret it happening.'

The End.