InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Changing Lives ❯ Getting Things Done ( Chapter 13 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

"Where are you going?" Mama asked him.

"Back home," he replied, but his voice was low and dull. . . almost dead.

And Kagome didn't say a word or make a move to stop him.

~*~ Inuyasha ~*~

Not a moment later and she thrust another wave at him, which he happily returned. Eventually the two of them were splashing each other furiously and sitting up, making large puddles on the floor and laughing.

It was great fun.

~*~ Detective Motsumoto ~*~

Finished, Motsumoto reread the entire report and printed it out. Copies of the report were given to each of his underlings and his superior, to be studied. He himself read the report a few more times, looking for anything he could have missed, any detail that should be standing out.

. . . Nothing.

It was times like this he cursed being a street detective, especially since he used to be a psychiatrist before he chose a faster-paced life.

This suspect was going to be difficult.

~*~ The Killer ~*~

Sesshomaru turned away, but replied. "Perhaps I do not see it as 'guilt'."

"So what would you call it?"

Sesshomaru didn't answer that at first. He stepped outside the room and shut the door. But as He began to climb out the window, he heard Sesshomaru's voice say one word: justice.

AE Forty Five

All in all, Kagome wasn't too happy with Inuyasha's leaping into the tub and splashing her like he did, but she ended up having to forgive him, because they had to go back to his time again. He finally filled her in that Kikyo wanted to see her, and strangely, she didn't look too surprised. That brought up a conversation which ended in angry yells and a sitting.

Followed closely by dinner.

After dinner was when they left for Sengoku Jidai - finally. Kagome got many hugs from Shippo and cheers from the village. Everyone seemed happy that she was okay, at least outwardly. And this time around, Kagome didn't feel so frightened of being away from her time and home. She was still wary of movements in her peripheral vision, but other than that, she was sound as a pound.

Kikyo was waiting for her in Kaede's hut, talking with her sister, when Kagome entered. As always, Inuyasha didn't seem to know what to do now that his past and current love were in the same area together. He stood slightly away from Kagome and looked at the floor.

Though Kagome didn't know what it was Kikyo wanted to talk about, she was willing to give Kikyo time to talk.

But Kikyo was just staring up at Kagome, not speaking, as though she was hinting at something, trying to get Kagome to read her thoughts. It sounded easy enough, but when it came to hints and body language, the only person Kagome could read was Inuyasha. . . and that's when he let her.

She was getting a weird feeling from that stare. Gesturing the door behind her, Kagome said, "Do you want to talk outside, Kikyo?"

Apparently, that was the right answer, because Kikyo nodded and got up. The right answer, of course, considering that there was a question somewhere in that look. They went outside together, leaving Inuyasha behind, who seemed to understand that he wasn't invited this time.

Kagome followed Kikyo's lead, wondering exactly where they were headed and what Kikyo was thinking. She was led all the way back to the God Tree before Kikyo stopped and turned to face her.

She didn't say anything at first. If Kagome didn't know better, she'd swear Kikyo was having trouble gathering her thoughts, or gathering the courage to say what she wanted to.

It took a long moment, but Kagome remained patient, though by the end of the pause it was entirely because of curiosity. And then Kikyo sighed.

"You love him, as I do," she said in that quiet voice.

It wasn't a question, but Kagome nodded. "You're not surprised, are you?"

"I had hoped you wouldn't fall for him as well," Kikyo replied, which didn't exactly answer Kagome's question.

"What's wrong with falling in love with Inuyasha? All around, he may be stubborn and egotistical, but he's still a great guy," Kagome told her.

"Yes, and I know that. But he is not human."

"What does that matter?" Kagome asked, feeling a protective surge begin in her stomach. "Half demon, human, demon; none of it matters. Inuyasha's parents proved that with their love, and Jinenji's parents, and Shiori's. . ."

"Who are these beings you speak of?"

"Jinenji and Shiori are half-demons, too," Kagome explained. "We met them on our journey."

"You met other half-demons?" Kikyo looked surprised at that.

"Well they're not extinct, Kikyo. Half-demons are more common than you think, they just know how to hide really well. We met another one, too, named Izumo. But he died. . ."

"How? Was he under Naraku's control?"

Kagome sighed. Izumo's was a sad type of story, but she remembered and liked the way he talked and how birds seemed drawn to him. "He was a bull by night, and human by day. He learned how to create false Shikon no Tamas, that were deadly for humans to use. . . He wanted to create a better false jewel, and use it to become human. He hated his bull form. . . In the end he swallowed all the false jewels he had access to, to try to get what he needed before sunrise. But he didn't make it that long. . . After the sun rose, the false jewels killed him."

"You cannot make Shikon no Tamas," Kikyo said.

"Actually, you can. You need both demon and humans souls to do it, though. He intended on using our souls to create the strong one he needed. Inuyasha for the soul of courage, Miroku for the soul of wisdom, Sango for the soul of love, and Shippo for the soul of friendship. Mine was going to be like Midoriko's, a strong pure energy."

"How many false jewels did he create?"

"A lot, but they shattered easy and we destroyed all the ones we could find," Kagome finished. "But I don't think you're here for a history lesson."

Kikyo looked surprised at Kagome's statement, and then smiled. "You are very unlike myself, Kagome. You have more courage and strength than many men I could name. Yet. . ."

"Yet what?"

"Yet you are undeniably feminine, and a pure-hearted priestess. I believe your origins will forever remain a mystery to me."

"I could tell you," Kagome offered.

Kikyo shook her head. "There are things better left unknown in this world."

Kagome shrugged and glanced away. Certainly all of that wasn't what Kikyo intended to say, or all of what she meant to.

"One would think that a strong woman such as you would see Inuyasha as less than what the rest of us see him as. . . Tell me, what do you see in Inuyasha?"

Kagome couldn't help but smile and glance down at her feet. In her mind, she could see Inuyasha, smiling like he'd just laughed at something, eyes narrowed in challenge as always. "I see the man I love, and that's all I need to see."

"But what do you see in him?" Kikyo prompted.

"I see strength above all else. Courage and righteousness, cleverness and caring. . . What I see in Inuyasha is everything good in the world, all put to use in one man. And somehow, I doubt any other being could ever be half as good."

"When you watch him fight, what do you see?"

"Determination. He's never truly lost a fight in all the time I've known him. His reflexes are very fast, he has an incredible amount of agility, so much strength and more than intelligence to use everything to his advantage."

"When he sits with you on a quiet day, what do you see?"

Kagome smiled. "An adorable kid who hasn't quite grown up. He can be really cute when he's not arguing, and he plays with Shippo a lot. And when he just relaxes on the grass, he. . ." She broke off there and blushed.

It got Kikyo's attention. "He what, Kagome?"

"He's. . . Oh, don't make me say it," she half-begged.

For the first time, Kikyo seemed genuinely curious. "Please, finish what you were saying. If it bothers you, I won't repeat it."

Kagome's blush worsened, but she figured she'd have to say it sometime. . . "He's. . . he's just. . . sexy."

What happened next was completely unexpected. Kikyo arched a brow like she'd never heard that word before, at least not in association with Inuyasha.

Kagome turned her back to Kikyo, shocked that she'd actually said that. She could hear nothing for a moment, and then she heard Kikyo laugh. It was such a shock that she turned back around and saw that Kikyo had sat down on a big root of the tree.

And then Kikyo looked up at Kagome and gestured the root beside her. Kagome sat down, facing Kikyo and wanting to know what was so funny.

"It is hard to believe," Kikyo began, "that you noticed it as well."

"That I noticed what?"

"The way he looks in the sunlight, relaxed," Kikyo went on. "I believe this word 'sexy' implies that you. . . wish to be close to him, because of the way he looks? Attractive?"

Kagome nodded, developing a picture in her mind of where Kikyo was going with this.

"When he lies on the grass, you wish to lay beside him? When he smiles, you smile back? When he shakes water out of his hair, you find it. . . arousing?"

Kagome's blush returned full force. "You went through it, too," she realized. "You always thought he was sexy."

"I desired him, as you do; yes." Kikyo smiled down at her knees. "It was hard to resist him at times. . . And I do not believe I have fully gotten over it."

"So you still desire him?"

"Every day and night. Much like obsession."

That couldn't have been easy for Kikyo to admit. Kagome knew it, because she herself couldn't admit it out loud. At least. . . not before today. She smiled down at her knees, too. "Yeah, it's hard to stop thinking about him, isn't it?"

"I am jealous of you, Kagome. I have never felt jealousy before, but I feel it towards you."

Kagome stuttered. "Well. . . you know, Kikyo. . . It's sad that you died, and worse that you were resurrected like you are, but. . ."

"That is not what I am jealous of. I know you spoke to another of Urasue's resurrected beings, a woman. . . and you told her to give life a chance. I have done this without regret. . . But it is not what I am jealous of."

Kagome shut her mouth. If Kikyo wasn't jealous that Kagome was alive, then. . . "All you have to do is ask and Inuyasha would -"

"I am not jealous of your relationship with Inuyasha, either."

. . .And those were the only two guesses Kagome had. "Then what could you see in me to be jealous of?"

Kikyo sighed again and sat up straight. "You are strong, without training. You are just, without temptation. You follow your instincts, without betrayal. You are everything I am not, and wish to be."

"But, I'm you, reincarnated. . ."

"You are Kagome, and you are nothing like me, if not for our soul."

"That doesn't make sense."

Kikyo looked at her then, and Kagome saw a deep, resonating sadness in those eyes. It made her heart ache, that Kikyo suffers so much.

"Though it came as second nature, I have trained all my life to be a priestess, to have this strength you possess without training. Being a priestess is not your second nature, but your core nature. I have been tempted to forego my life as a priestess, as I have believed that demons could never be pure, whereas you have never been tempted, nor do you believe that anything is solely just or solely wrong. My instincts have led me to doing things I wish I had not, but yours give you friends, give you trust; your instincts keep you from feeling the shame I feel."

"What shame?" Kagome asked, dumbfounded. "What do you have to be ashamed about?"

"I am afraid that is a story for another day, Kagome." Kikyo was quiet for another few moments, and then she nodded, like she had made some decision.

"What is it?" Kagome asked.

"We died half a century ago," Kikyo began. "It has taken time and thought, but I have let go of the hatred I once felt for him. As I have let go of him altogether."

Kagome didn't have to ask who Kikyo was talking about, but what she was talking about nagged at her. "What do you mean, you let go of him?"

"I have accepted that the time Inuyasha and I spent together has ended, and now we are ended as well. Now it is your moment with him, your time to spend with him. I am certain I will die again soon, and when I do, you will know, for I will have told you everything I need to. And then your life with Inuyasha can truly begin."

It was hard to stay quiet during that speech, but at the same time, Kagome couldn't muster up the will, control or breath to interrupt. And now that it was over, Kagome couldn't find the words to reply. What was there to say, really?

"I can't believe you found Inuyasha sexy," she blurted out.

Kikyo chuckled. "Out of everything I've said, that is the only thing you cannot believe?"

"Everything else is believable," Kagome replied. "How old are you, Kikyo?"

"I was seventeen when I died."

Kagome shook her head in disbelief. "You were seventeen? But. . . you look older!"

"Priestesses are much more mature than the average person. Surely you have noticed this."

"Well, just ask Inuyasha," Kagome laughed. "I'm hardly mature."

Kikyo smiled. "Perhaps that is why you are so pure."

She blushed. "I'm not that amazing."

"You are much more than amazing, Kagome," Kikyo said, standing. Turning her back, she added, "You seem to have the purity of Midoriko herself."

Kagome waited a few moments, then got up and followed Kikyo back to the village. Something told her that she should keep her and Kikyo's conversation to herself, so she didn't give any details to anyone. Sango and Shippo asked a lot, though, so Kagome tried to give general answers without betraying Kikyo's trust and keeping her words away from becoming rumors or gossip.

The entire time Kagome was talking, she was leaning back against Inuyasha. Every time she looked up at time, he gave her a smile, but it was forcefully done. She snuck a few glances at him when they were settling in for the night, and couldn't help but notice how intensely focused he was. It was obvious to her then that Inuyasha wasn't happy that she and Kikyo had left together, and left him behind.

But she didn't want to ask why.

The problem was, the way he was sitting in the far corner of the hut. . . It reminded her of what she'd said earlier, about Inuyasha being sexy. In many ways he was, especially now, with that slight pout and intense look. . . She could have drooled.

Instead, she looked away with a blush and an embarrassed smile. When she laid down for the night, she got a nervous yet familiar feeling as she thought about all the nights prior, when she slept cuddled in his arms. And the more she thought about it, the more she felt herself swooning for him, loving him more for how selfless he was. And the way his arms felt around her, holding her so securely. . .

She felt herself blush and giggled. This was ridiculous! But still, she found she couldn't get him out of her mind. Sometime later, she also realized that she kept glancing at him, sitting up near her feet beside Miroku. It was so cute, the way he was acting now, not trying to make it obvious how easygoing their relationship had become. There was hardly any modesty left between them, few arguments that didn't end in laughter, few days that didn't end with a kiss goodnight.

Kami, I'm so in love. . . she thought. You hear me, Inuyasha? I love you more than I could put into words.

"Sweet dreams, Kagome."

She glanced up in surprise, but Inuyasha looked asleep. As she lay back down, she couldn't help but wonder if that voice had been in her head.

~*~ Yashutino Kei ~*~

There he was, Kei, sitting in his cell nervously. Though it was past 'light's out', he was still up, fidgeting. Every now and again, he glanced through his cell doors and swore he saw a shadow move.

Hisochane's death reached everywhere, including Kei. Knowing that his 'leader' had died would have been a relief; that fool wouldn't know how to trick the police if there was a book on it. No, he wouldn't, but Kei knew a lot more. The only reason why Hisochane remained the 'leader' for so long was because he never felt pain or fear, and that made him fearsome.

The police went all-out for the rest of their band, though. Kei and the others were given 'special' tapes, that were recorded so that they could both hear and see what was going on. And what Kei saw wasn't a slaughter, it was fear.

Hisochane, who feared nothing, had been terrified in that video. He screamed and begged, in the end almost being scared to death. And that's what scared Kei.

The others saw the slaughter, and only the slaughter. They didn't see the way Hisochane's eyes went white in his fear. Kei's stomach fell and his heart stopped after seeing that video, as he was sure the others' did. Hisochane had never before been frightened, let alone scared shitless, fearing for his life. The fact that something could shake him so completely proved that Hisochane wasn't the last on the list.

That message in the wall, it was proof to everyone else that this wasn't over yet. Someone wanted vengeance and wasn't going to be stopped on his way to getting it. Although Kei didn't know who was next on the list.

Sweeping his hair back from his shoulders, he glanced across the way to the mirror -

And froze.

There was something in that reflection, a moving shadow. . . But that was impossible; there was no light, and the mirror was across from the bed! The cell entrance was to his right. . . Still, logic didn't stop him from looking over his shoulder.

There was a length of wall behind him, nothing more. Not even a shadow.

He exhaled a breath. He could see his death in his future, but scaring himself to death in the meantime? That was just stupid.

Even if he were next on the list, there was no point in jumping at each shadow. Kei always knew his way of life was going to get him killed, and perhaps this was his fate, to die scared and in pain. But then, he was too stubborn for that.

They only showed the tape once, but Kei remembered everything he had to. He wasn't going to die without a fight. The blackened figure in the video walked straight through the bars, which was difficult to do. So the police worked on making the bars an inch closer together, but they wouldn't be finished and installed on each cell for another week. By then, they'd all be dead.

Ryoki, Kei's younger brother, had utterly panicked and as such, was sent to solitary for the night. As for this penitentiary, only Kei and Ryoki remained. The other three of their band was located elsewhere - Serio was sent to a mental instatution-type prison in account of his mental instability, but as for the other two. . . Kei didn't know where they were located.

Something clanked and its echo streaked right through Kei. He jumped, his heart skipped a beat, and he found himself staring in the distance. He could see nothing beyond his nose, and that noise frightened him. He knew, he knew, that the figure wouldn't make a sound if it showed up, but that didn't stop Kei from fearing that the clank was the silent killer.

He stared down at his hands sightlessly, trying to keep himself controlled. This was just ridiculous. He was anxious, wondering if tonight was the night he was going to die. Everyone else was probably thinking the same thing; he could hear movements in nearby cells. Usually the prison was dead silent by now; it had to be past one. . .

Down the corridor, someone yelled.

Kei jumped and without thinking, backed up into the wall facing the bars. His heart rate had gone way up, he could hear his wild pulse thudding dully in his ears, his hands were shaking again. . .

He held his breath and tried to count, tried to calm himself. It won't happen again, he said to himself. It was just Hisochane the killer was after. And even if he wasn't, he won't go after me next. I'm not the worst of us; he'd go after Akira next. Right?

Logic wasn't helping his situation any. Which really sucked because logic was his main talent. He did probabilities, equations, gave answers and percentages. And the percentage of him making it through tonight without a nervous breakdown was quickly decreasing. . .

If he made it through tonight at all.

~*~ Morning, Detective Motsumoto ~*~

A second death. Same killer, same signature, same feel, even. . . But this time, the message on the wall read, 'He hurt her second.'

Second, not last. The killer was after the entire group, then. A serial killer killing killers. On the plus side, no one was crying over the deaths. This morning there was even a column in the papers about people who were praising the killer, or The Phantom, as they nicknamed him.

At least the nickname fit. No sounds, no clear visual, he always seems to appear on the scene and leaves just as quietly, leaving no proof that he was there besides the body and the message. Never says a word, never faces a camera, never steps in the light. Never gets hurt, never gets splattered, never leaves anything behind. A Phantom.

Although hearing the name would make one think of The Phantom of the Opera, the storyline was so different that he was almost an urban legend. A lot of people were writing him off as a hoax, even though the facts remained. Wishful thinking, they called it. Most of them just couldn't believe that justice could be served to people so unjust.

While he could believe and understand that, he didn't see why they couldn't believe in a Phantom killing the murderers. But then again, the way that sounded in his head was reason enough. . . It was farfetched, mainly because the police wouldn't let the media have the tapes; visual, audio or otherwise. The public had no other proof than the word of the press, which has been known to both exaggerate and lie altogether.

But the price of letting the public see the tapes would be too great. Which is why they couldn't let it out.

It was frustrating, too, that they couldn't find a single new detail yet. They learned nothing they didn't know before, expect for one thing. . . This time they brought in a psychologist to give a diagnosis of the Phantom, to study and explain his reasons. Most of it was obvious; he had a vendetta for some - likely dead - woman, or he was employed by someone who did.

The fact that he caused the killers such pain suggested that he had a lot of hatred for them, and that the unknown woman was probably hurt terribly. If she wasn't, then the man was also incredibly protective and vengeful of her, suggesting that the woman was also unbelievably important to him. It's possible that the woman was the only person in his life beforehand, a mother or a sister or a spouse.

The interesting thing was, given the lack of sufficient light, they really couldn't tell if the Phantom was a man at all. It was just as possible that he was a she, though it was far less unlikely, given the brutal nature of the crimes.

The crimes. Another funny point.

The families of the victims of the killers were praising the Phantom, calling him a Saint doing God's work. A few families have actually erected shrines to the Phantom, calling him simply 'Seraph'. At the same time, many people who condemned death of all kinds protested those same shrines, saying that killing murderers does not justify killing. These same people voted against the death sentence, which is why all six men - now four - were serving life sentences without the possibility of parole.

"Yo, Motsumoto! Get out here!"

Well, that was odd. He wasn't called out of his office very often. He closed the open folders on his desk and got up. In the main room, they had a TV on. The news. An officer leaned close and turned up the volume, and for a moment, everyone was riveted to the screen.

"- Just received word that the Phantom, who has been killing the recently captured murderous band of six men, is in fact killing them for his dead wife. We received word from a letter left on my desk, not an hour ago. It reads,

" 'You have all branded me The Phantom. I have so far killed two men, but not to worry, when I am finished, I will not kill again. The reason behind their deaths, which I'm sure you all have an opinion about, is for my wife. Long ago, she was raped by them, but not killed. Years later, she became pregnant with my child, but never had the chance to give birth. They found her again, and this time, murdered her and my daughter. I've waited longer than you could imagine for the opportunity to kill them, and be assured, nothing will stop me. I apologize to everyone who I've offended by killing them, and ask not to be praised. I'm not proud of what I'm doing, and neither do I encourage anyone to do it as well. My wife was my only family since the day I met her, and the loss of her causes me pain every second. You will know when I have finished my revenge, and afterwards, I can promise that the world will never hear of me again.'

"While we have no way to verify that this was sent by the Phantom himself -"

"That's enough," Motsumoto said. "I want a copy of that letter and I want the original examined - yesterday. Move it!"

Immediately the TV was turned off the room was in anarchy as officers and detectives scrambled to get their things and get moving. Motsumoto went back into his office and turned on his computer, and began typing the newest update. The letter itself could be the clincher, what leads them to the Phantom and captures him. At the moment, Motsumoto couldn't care less about why the Phantom had been killing, but the how itched at him.

One way or another, he was going to find out.

~*~ The Killer ~*~

It was stupid of him to leave that letter. He knew that, but still, the public was going nuts with questions and he had to find some way to reassure them of his motives. Which, of course, he didn't spell out.

Neither did he physically write the letter or deliver it. He typed it up, printed it out, and gave it to one of the demons under Sesshomaru's orders to place it on the desk of that woman newscaster. Which was clever because that particular news station was part of Sesshomaru's empire anyhow.

In all truth, it was extremely difficult to write that letter. That one, long paragraph took him several hours, for two reasons. . . One, because it kept bringing up bad memories and making him pause, and two because his claws kept hitting the wrong keys on the keyboard. His letter would be three times the length it was and impossible to read without that backspace key.

Stupid claws. At least they had their uses. Like cutting open Kei's eyes after peeling off his eyelids so he couldn't blink away the blood. Or shredding Ishi's tongue into several ribbons and ripping them off one by one.

Plus other, more brutal things that made him smile and think, They got their dues. After all, his wife wasn't the only one they'd hurt, or raped, or killed. His wasn't the only family they took away.

It was the middle of the day now, and he was crouched in his window again. He actually missed his hair, regretted that he had to cut it. Though Sesshomaru didn't seem to have any problems leaving it as long as it always was. His hair was never even half that length, thank Kami. He still had his questions about how in hell Sesshomaru's hair never tangled, or when it did, how he got them out again.

It really was an enigma. He had to have gotten it from his mother. No man, dead or alive, had hair that stayed fine all night and day. Lucky bastard.

Although short hair had the advantage of not being long enough to get tangled, at least not too badly. He glanced in the mirror and smiled wryly at his reflection; cutting his hair had only made it harder for him to recognize himself in the mirror. He was glad he wasn't as vain as Sesshomaru, or he'd be freaking out every time he caught a glimpse of himself.

Sometimes He thought about cutting Sesshomaru's hair. It was a tempting thought, for two reasons: the first, to see how Sesshomaru would react to such a thing. Certainly even someone as calm and controlled as Sesshomaru would still flip at such a startling, overnight change. The second was to see how fast Sesshomaru's hair could regrow.

And of course, a bonus effect: seeing just how far He could push Sesshomaru before getting booted. Hopefully Sesshomaru had gotten more patient and lenient over the years, both from age and having pups of his own. Or, as He called them, the Brood. Though Sesshomaru himself had two daughters and a son, the three of them gave way to dozens of descendants. Each of them was now a part of Sesshomaru's empire, controlling this or that, but ultimately they all looked up to Sesshomaru as one would look up to Kami, never doing anything without his authorization.

His trip last week had been to see his daughter, a CEO, her two children and two of her grandchildren. It was rare when five of them were in the same area together, and Sesshomaru never once missed that opportunity to catch up with them.

It was funny how often Sesshomaru - calm, cold, controlled, I-don't-need-anyone Sesshomaru - put everything aside to meet with his family. It made Him believe that Sesshomaru missed his children and grandchildren often, and valued family as much as his father had.

What was funnier is that prejudiced Sesshomaru had a human mate for a time, and his only son was her child. Ironic, isn't it?

:End Chapter:

TA-DA! :Wipes forehead: One thing I have to address here. . .

:Points to Naraku, running freely: It seems that ff-anime-AM-sp0rks freed him not too long ago. He's been wreaking havoc on everything. . . But while I struggle to lure him into a trap again, I want you all to forget about that and review for me - about the chapter - kay? Kay.

NOW GET BACK HERE! :Chases him with a whip, snapping it:

Naraku: NEVA! :Runs faster and climbs a tree, sticks his tongue out:

Jerk. :Kicks the tree:

Also I have some terrible news. . . seems yet another wannabe free-thinker stole Trans. I'm sorry that I can't add in the link, neither in the chapter nor a review, but if you review asking for the link (keeping in mind that I need your e-mail, too) or send me an e-mail for it, I can send it out. I'll wait a day and send a mass e-mail first.

See ya!