InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Sachi ❯ Trial Solutions ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I don’t own InuYasha…yada, yada, yada…Takahashi does…etcetera and so forth….And if you sue me, you’ll get bubkiss, didley squat, and zilch in the deepest sense of the word, because I’m flat broke, and dreadfully ugly. It’s just not worth it, you know? But please enjoy the story -- that might just be worth reading…I hope.

CHAPTER 2

Irritatingly, at first all he could do was stare at her -- the same idiotic staring game he’d been playing almost constantly for the past five days. The same thought kept running around in his head, stuck on repeat since the moment she’d opened her eyes. He’d been watching her move, talk, and interact with the others -- hell, he’d even spoken to her. And the whole time he’d been thinking only one thing.

Her eyes are gray.

Damn, but that surprised him more than it should have. It was jarring to see such light eyes in a face that looked so familiar. He’d really expected her eyes to be brown. A deep, dark, and coolly concealed brown. Instead, her eyes were light: smoky and translucent, filled with a general warmth and uninhibited emotion. They stared at him as if they expected him to do something, which had him at a slight loss.

Do what, damn it?

Even so, for some incomprehensible reason, he was relieved. So relieved that it took him a few moments to absorb what she’d just said to him. In the stunned silence that followed her statement, her meaning finally hit him, and his mind snapped back into focus. Then he was staring at her again…in disbelief. “What the hell do you mean, you don’t know?”

She looked as if she was having as a hard a time believing herself as he was believing her. “I…” Her fingers trembled around her forehead. “I can’t remember anything. I don’t know how I got here -- I can’t even tell you my…name. My head is…there’s something wrong.” A tiny frown formed in the space between her eyebrows, and her hands settled onto her forehead, gripping tightly as if to combat pain. “I don’t understand.”

InuYasha’s eyes narrowed and he exchanged a startled glance with Miroku before he turned a glare on her. “You mean to tell me that you don’t remember anything -- nothing at all?” She just stared at him blankly. “But…you have to remember something --” he glanced back at his manager, “-- she has to remember something, doesn’t she?”

Miroku shrugged, then fixed serious violet eyes on the girl on the futon. “Kaede told you that we’re near Sounkyo. Does the name sound familiar at all?”

She blinked slowly, her smoky eyes staring with intense, if hazy, concentration at her questioner. “Sounkyo is…” Her voice had grown thick, her words more carefully pronounced, “…that’s in Hokkaido, isn’t it?” She paused. “But what am I doing in Hokkaido?”

InuYasha frowned, his gaze sharpening abruptly. Was it his imagination, or was she having a hard time focusing her eyes?

Miroku stroked his fingers along his chin. “Where do you think you should be?”

“Uh…” Her eyes pressed tightly closed for a long moment, then drifted back up. “I’m not…sure.”

“Do you know what country we’re in?”

She blinked again, the palm on her forehead starting to massage absently. “Japan?” She suddenly looked…extremely drained. Somewhere deep inside, InuYasha felt himself tense.

Miroku’s brow wrinkled, as he paused again, staring at her without really seeing her. “Hmm. It appears that you haven’t lost all of your memories. I wonder…” He looked over at Kaede. “Kaede. This is from her head injury, isn’t it?”

The older woman didn’t move from her critical inspection of the girl in front of her. “That is most likely. Head trauma has been known to cause certain types of amnesia. The severe hypothermia could also have contributed.”

Kagome’s hand dropped away from her forehead. Her body suddenly swayed where she sat. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she began to fall over.

“Watch out!” InuYasha was beside her instantly, catching her before her head could hit the hardwood floor. She lay like dead weight in his arms, obviously unconscious, but breathing evenly. He frowned, then turned to glare at Kaede. “What the hell happened?”

Kaede leaned forward and laid a hand against her the girl’s forehead. She frowned, and checked her pulse, then her eyes. She ‘hmm’d’, then glanced calmly at the hanyou across from her. “You can release her now, InuYasha. She is fine. I believe she just overexerted herself. Her injuries and her sleep have weakened her body.”

He blinked, almost surprised to find that his hands gripped her so tightly, then lay her carefully (and quickly) back against the futon. “Is that normal?”

“It is not unheard of. It will only be of concern if she ceases to improve. We’ll watch her closely for the next few days. She should recover quickly.”

Miroku stepped forward, concerned. “And her memory?”

“That I cannot say. I know very little of the workings of the mind itself. It may be that her memory will return to her little by little as time passes. It may never return at all.” Kaede looked knowingly at them, encompassing both in her glance. “It may also be that she does not wish to remember whatever it is that brought her here. Trauma comes in many forms other than physical.”

InuYasha let his gaze drift back to the girl, grim lines bracketing his mouth, but he didn’t reply. Miroku seemed of the same mind, and silence descended over the room. Kaede watched them carefully, then turned back to Kagome, dismissing them both. “Now if you two don’t mind leaving the room, I would like to conduct a more thorough examination of our young guest.”

Sharing a reluctant glance with Miroku, InuYasha got to his feet, and exited the room, his manager right on his heels. The door scraped softly as it slid shut behind them.

They walked down the hallway, away from the spare back room they’d moved the girl to several days ago. Miroku kept his mouth shut only long enough for them to be out of earshot. “Well? Do we believe her?”

His teeth snapped together, and he stopped in the middle of the hallway. His arms crossed and he slouched against the wall, his fingers strumming restlessly against a bicep, his gaze fixed on the floor. “She wasn’t lying, not that I could tell. Her scent never changed. She was just really confused, and…scared.” Something twinged uncomfortably in his gut, and his brows tensed, lowering slightly. “But hell if I know whether to believe her or not.” He shifted, frustrated. “Tch. Damn, this is a bad situation. What the hell are we supposed to do with some strange girl?”

Miroku gave him a measuring look. “We could just try dropping her off at the nearest hospital and letting them handle her.”

He scowled, not liking the suggestion at all. “And just let whoever took a shot at her find her again? Besides, if we were going to do that, we should have done it before we told her who we were and where we are. Either way, letting someone else deal with her now would have the police knocking at our door.”

Miroku joined him in his lounge against the wall. “There is a possibility that it was just random, you know. Some hunter in the forest who saw something move and thought it was worth trying for.”

InuYasha snorted skeptically. “And she was just out in below freezing temperatures, enjoying the scenery in one of the most dangerous areas around here? In her nightgown?”

His friend sighed, letting his head smack gently back against the wall. “I suppose not. No helping it, then. She’ll stay here, and we’ll watch her to see if she regains her memory. I can try and check up on her, but without any indication of who she is, or where she came from, it’s not likely that I’ll find anything.”

He didn’t respond, just continued to stare at the floor.

“This could turn out to be a good thing, you know.” The monk’s tone had gone from reluctant to speculative -- which meant that he was probably thinking of ways to turn the situation to his advantage. “We could put her to work in exchange for room and board -- offer her a job, so to speak. It’s a good way to keep an eye on her, and Kaede is getting old. Cleaning this place is harder for her than it used to be. It would make her life easier to have a helper around.”

InuYasha rolled his eyes. “Keh.” Kaede had been old before they had taken over the Sachi. It would just make Miroku’s life easier not to have to scrub floors in the arthritic old hag’s stead. “Whatever.”

“Perhaps our lovely young Kagome will be able to cook as well.” Now Miroku sounded positively enthusiastic. InuYasha fought another snort. It had long since ceased to amaze him at how quickly the monk could talk himself into anything that might possibly be to his advantage.

Miroku’s gaze suddenly turned serious as he studied his friend once again. “You sure you don’t have a problem with this? After all, she does look awfully similar to…”

“It’s fine.” His voice was clipped, cutting off whatever else Miroku would have said.

“It won’t bother you, seeing her every day?”

His scowl returned. “I said leave it alone, didn’t I?”

Miroku hesitated, then shrugged. “Whatever you say…boss.”

A burst of laughter broke their silence, coming from the direction of the first living room. His ears perked, then twitched, trying to catch the foreign words of the voices that cooed in admiration. He glanced at Miroku inquiringly.

He smiled back, nodding in the direction of the room. “He’s been keeping them entertained since our beautiful visitor started showing signs of waking. He’s very popular with the guests, especially the Americans. They love his little tricks.” Another peal of laughter punctuated his words. “And he loves the attention.”

Surprise lightened his features briefly “So the brat actually knows how to be useful, huh?”

“He wouldn’t be with us if he wasn’t useful.” Miroku suddenly snapped his fingers, smirking. “I know. Maybe she was meeting a lover. That’s why she was in her nightgown.”

InuYasha blinked, then turned his head away. “No. She wasn’t.” He negated the option flatly, automatically, almost without thought. “She doesn’t have one.”

Black brows raised in surprise. “And you’re so sure because…”

InuYasha’s scowl blackened, and he pushed away from the wall, deciding he could probably find something better to do than stand here and talk to an imbecile.

Realization slid over Miroku’s features as he watched his friend storm away. “Because that’s something you would know, isn’t it? Ahhhh…” A pause, then quietly. “And you said her appearance didn’t bother you.”

Gritting his teeth, he decided to pretend he hadn’t heard.

***************************************************************** *******

The next time she woke up was a much less distressing experience for her. She became aware gradually, slowly realizing that she was laying flat on her back, and that her eyes were closed. It took her another moment to remember why. That’s right…I was injured. She blinked slowly. And that man -- hanyou…InuYasha….

Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, she took stock.

She felt much better this time -- slightly groggy, but the pain was easily manageable. Her head barely ached, and the light streaming in through the open curtains didn’t attempt to burn her eyes from her head when she opened them. She was in the same room as before, but none of the previous strangers were in sight. Hostile amber eyes flashed through her mind, and she sighed, wondering where everyone had gone. And what she was supposed to do now.

Well, she wouldn’t find out anything by just laying here.

Gathering herself, she attempted to sit up. Her limbs were extremely heavy, though, and difficult to move. With a little effort, she managed to lift herself up slightly, propping her body up on her elbows….

…And found herself looking directly into a pair of big, pale green eyes that stared at her curiously.

She blinked. The green eyes didn’t disappear, only widened slightly so that they dominated the young face they belonged to. Bright, burnt orange hair framed innocent features, most of it tied back by a single, loosely held bow. It was a small child, a boy, who couldn’t didn’t look much older than five or six years old.

He sat on -- or clung to, as it seemed -- her chest, but he perched so lightly that she’d barely felt him. She blinked again. This wasn’t a face she knew…she didn’t think. “Um…hello?” She noted with relief that while her throat sounded and felt uncomfortably scratchy, it was nowhere near the garble that it had been the last time she’d awaken.

The small mouth opened wide and drew in a deep breath, showing tiny pointed teeth, before exhaling dramatically. “Well it’s about time. I’ve been watching for almost two hours now, and you haven’t moved a muscle since I got here. Kaede didn’t even ask me to watch you until after lunch, and you woke up first thing this morning, so you’ve been out for a long time.” He frowned to himself. “Of course, before that you were out for five whole days, so I guess this is an improvement.”

He leaned forward to study her critically, then, with a satisfied nod, he allowed himself to slide backwards onto her lap. “You look a lot better, anyway.”

Taking that as a cue, she gingerly pushed herself into a sitting position. He looked up at her from her lap, and she was surprised to spot a tail -- fluffy, blond, and almost as big as his whole body. “I’m Shippou. I live out back with old Kaede, and I’m a very important part of the staff here at the Sachi.” He nodded again, his self-important manner prompting a small smile to curve her lips.

She took in the pointed ears and the delicate-looking paws that stuck out of his long blue pants before nodding uncertainly. “I am…” She trailed off in dismay. The wall of blankness remained in her mind, blocking all her attempts to grasp something familiar. She bit her lip, her teeth worrying the soft skin. It was incredibly disconcerting to reach for something as simple as a name and come up with…nothing.

Shippou settled comfortably onto her lap, crossing both his arms and legs. “It’s ok. I know you don’t remember anything, so you don’t have to worry about introducing yourself. We’ve just been calling you Kagome, ‘cause of the necklace you’re wearing.”

Her brow furrowed lightly. “Necklace?” Her fingers drifted up to her neck, finding the thin chain, and stroking the characters hanging from them, the light pressure of the metal on her skin reassuring. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noted a small sense of relief at finding the charm, and the calming effect it seemed to have on her spirit. Her fingers curled around the delicate silver, grasping firmly -- almost of their own accord -- and she wondered if the charm held any special significance to her.

“Kagome?” She said it aloud, testing the name. Then she nodded to herself, surprisingly content with the way it sounded. “All right.” She bowed her head to the little youkai on her lap. “I’m Kagome. I am pleased to meet you, Shippou.”

Shippou nodded his head in return. “Welcome to the Sachi Inn, Kagome. You’ll feel better in no time here.” He cocked his head. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m a youkai. I’m a kitsune, and the only full-blooded youkai that lives here. InuYasha -- he’s the rude guy who found you -- is only half, but he owns the Sachi, so he gets to boss me around a lot.”

The mention of her wayward savior caught her attention. Restless amber flashed through her thoughts, and she blinked, momentarily distracted. “InuYasha….”

“But don’t worry. InuYasha’s still really strong, even though he’s only a hanyou. So is Miroku, just don’t let his idiotic behavior around women fool you. Oh, and you should probably be careful around him. Miroku likes to grab women’s --”

“Are you finally awake, child? I was beginning to worry again.” A familiar, weathered old voice cut in on Shippou’s informative speech, drawing the attention of both to the open door, and the old woman who stood behind it. Dark eyes watched her with compassion, and her weathered features wrinkled in a smile. “And how are you feeling?”

“I’m…” She considered for a moment. “I’m feeling much better, thank you…” She hesitated, then ventured cautiously, “…Kaede?”

The older woman stepped into the room, but her slight nod was enough to assure Kagome that she’d remembered correctly. She drew in a deep breath and sighed as the older woman knelt by the futon, and reached for a pitcher sitting nearby on the floor. Kagome glanced at it in surprise, but gratefully accepted the cup of water Kaede handed her, sipping at the lukewarm liquid.

Kaede’s gaze ran over her probingly as she drank, making a visual check on her posture, the way she moved, and the bandage on her head. “Do you feel stronger, this time, child? No dizziness or weakness? Does your head still pain you?”

Kagome lowered the cup, resting it on her thigh as she thought. “Well…my thoughts are clearer, and I don’t feel so confused. I feel weak, though. My body doesn‘t want to do what I ask it to do.” Her free hand went to her temple. “And my head still aches a little.”

Kaede nodded. “It seems you are progressing quite nicely.” She struggled to her feet. “I will bring you some soup. Your body has gone too long without food, and the nourishment will aid in your healing.”

Kagome shifted, causing Shippou jumped back as she slipped her legs out from under the blanket. “Please, let me help.” She managed to get to her feet, but swayed dangerously as her blood immediately rushed through her body. For a moment, her vision fogged. Her hand went to her forehead and she took an unsteady half-step back. “Oh…”

Kaede’s hands were suddenly at her shoulders, supporting her as she helped her sit back down on the futon. Kagome blinked, then stared up in dismay, but Kaede only shook her head. “You must not try to do too much too soon. Only a week ago, you very nearly died. It will take some time before you are fully recovered.”

Kagome sighed, then nodded, watching the older woman make her way out of the room, wishing she didn’t feel so helpless. At the door, she paused, and turned to cast an amused look over her shoulder. “I think perhaps I’ll bring you a spare yukata as well. After you eat may be a better time to try moving around a little, and if you really wish to leave the room, you’ll wish to be wearing more than that.”

Then she vanished in an easy shuffle down the hall.

Confused, Kagome glanced down at that. A plain white t-shirt. A plain white t-shirt that draped over her body and covered a good portion of her thighs, yes…but the thin cotton clung revealingly, making it obvious to even the most casual observer that she wore nothing underneath. She shrieked, startling poor Shippou, and scrambled back under her thick covering, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

“H-how did I get in a….” She stopped, realizing how ridiculous the query was, considering that she didn’t have the faintest clue what she’d been wearing before--if anything at all. It was a question she had no desire to explore at the moment. “Never mind.” She looked down at Shippou. “I haven’t met you before, have I?”

Shippou clambered back to a comfortable spot on her lap. “No, I was already sleeping the night you got here, and I wasn’t here when you finally woke up this morning. But I’ve been helping old Kaede take care of you since the morning after InuYasha found you.” He paused, his brow furrowing. “InuYasha stayed with you the whole time. He refused to leave the room until after you passed out again this morning…I think maybe he was worried about you.”

The last part gave her body a slight jolt, a tiny current that twisted anxiously inside her chest and belly. He’d been…watching her? His troubled eyes touched her mind again. Worried? She stared at Shippou, not sure what to think. “O-oh…”

He stared back, green eyes matter-of-fact. “You know, I don’t think InuYasha and Miroku know what to do with you. They’ve been talking about it on and off all day, usually until InuYasha gets fed up with Miroku and storms off. It’s normal for them, because they’ve known each other a long time…. But, you know, it’s been a while since I’ve seen them do anything that interesting. Usually InuYasha ignores Miroku.” His hand stroked at his chin in gesture that looked far to old for his young face, then leaned forward with a shrug. “But I guess he can’t if the subject is you?”

He tipped his head, looking her over carefully. “I wonder what they’ll decide. You’re already getting better, so taking you to the hospital is pointless; and you don’t have your memories, so they can’t help you find your family or friends. And it’s not like InuYasha can just put you back where he found you.” He paused, then added as an afterthought, “They won’t even go to the police, beca --”

A small clay cup smacked into the side of Shippou’s head, knocking him off her lap. Kagome jumped in shock. She reached out to see if he was all right, but he rebounded instantly, whirling on soft paws to glare at the door, tiny fists clenched. “What was that for?!”

Kagome followed his gaze to find the man with the smooth voice -- Miroku, he’d said -- standing in the doorway, a tray cradled between his left hand and his body. He was smiling sheepishly. “Ah, gomen, gomen, Shippou. It slipped. You know how it is.” He waved his right hand in a placating gesture.

Shippou rubbed at his head, glaring suspiciously at the other man’s hand. “It sure slipped hard for something that came from your weakest hand.”

Miroku just shrugged and stepped into the room, settling onto his knees on the floor beside Kagome, while Shippou retrieved the cup and set it by the water pitcher. “Anyway, Shippou, you shouldn’t be worrying the poor girl about what will happen tomorrow while she’s still trying to recover today.” He set the tray down, and she saw that it held a bowl of soup and a small portion of rice.

He smiled at her. “From Kaede. She told me to tell you to eat as much as you can and she’ll be along shortly with a yukata. My apologies about the t-shirt. We should have thought to put on something more substantial, but at the time, your health was more important than your modesty.”

Kagome colored slightly, but shook her head. “No, please, it’s fine.” She accepted the bowl with a little bow. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, for being such an inconvenience to you. For all your kindness and generosity in taking care of me, thank you.”

Again, his right hand waved in the air dismissively. “Not at all. It’s our pleasure to have such a beautiful young woman staying with us.” A pale flash of white on the inside of the hand caught her attention. She blinked, then found her gaze focusing on a small circle of pale skin tissue in the center of his palm. Her eyes widened slightly. A…scar? What an interesting shape….

Miroku noticed her scrutiny. A brief, almost non-existent hesitation stalled him, then he lowered his hand, palm outward so she could see more clearly.

“Strange-looking, isn’t it?” His friendly tone didn’t change as he spoke. “It’s an old injury. An accident, I’m afraid -- my fault.” He rotated his hand so she could see the same circular tissue marring the skin on the other side. “It caused some permanent nerve damage, so now I can’t use my right hand as well as I once could. See?” He wiggled his fingers, demonstrating the slight stiffness of the digits, and his inability to straighten his hand out completely.

Kagome flushed again, sympathy for the old wound rising to mix with the embarrassment she felt at being caught staring so rudely. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…. That’s terrible.”

He smiled again, the deep violet of his eyes clear and unperturbed. He had a nice, ready smile--Kagome found it very comforting. “Don’t be. It happened a long time ago, and I’m used to it now. It’s not so great an inconvenience.” He gestured to the bowl. “Please, eat.”

Carefully, she complied, bringing the bowl to her mouth. The warm liquid was slightly salty but delicious, and the seasoned trickle felt nice against her underused throat. She breathed a mental sigh of relief when her stomach didn’t object.

Miroku tilted his head, his speculative gaze never leaving her face. “It’s heartening to see you up and around. You weren’t exactly in the best of shapes when you arrived.” He paused. “Have you been able to recall anything about what happened to you yet?”

A sharp pang ran through her, and she hesitated, then slowly lowered the bowl onto the blanket covering her lap. “I…I remember waking up here, and meeting all of you, but…”

Her eyes closed, and once again she strained, struggling to find something -- anything -- that she could tell them; but her mind remained locked, stubborn, refusing to relinquish any details. She shook her head, and her eyes slid open to stare at the half-empty bowl, whatever appetite she’d had vanished. “I’m sorry.” Frustration laced through her tone. “I just don’t know.”

Her chest clenched against an uncomfortable weight, and her whole body flinched in reaction.

Oh gods. Just what in the world was she supposed to do?

She had nothing: no money, no friends or family that she remembered, no skills. Not even the clothes on her back belonged to her. She couldn’t intrude here forever -- yet she had nowhere else to go, and only the patience and generosity of strangers to support her. Panic rose like bile in her throat, producing a bad aftertaste and a thick ache that promised tears. The skin around her nails turned white as her grip tightened around the bowl.

From his place near her feet, Shippou stared in silence at her miserable expression. After a moment, he moved forward, scooting close to her side and reaching out a small hand to pat reassuringly on her thigh. Surprised, she glanced down at his solemn gaze. “It’s ok, Kagome. You don’t have to remember.”

Miroku shifted, his hands fisting on his knees, the look on his face repentant. “Indeed. My apologies Miss Kagome. I didn’t mean to cause you distress. Please don’t feel that it’s necessary to push yourself. You shouldn’t worry so much about your current situation. You’re welcome here as long as you need it.”

Kagome hesitated, allowing her gaze to drift slowly between them--from the man with the earnest gaze, to the little kitsune with the worried frown, and back again. Two honest and sincere faces, doing their best to reassure her, to make her believe that all would be well. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled, the choking thickness in her chest slowly dissipating as a tiny, grateful smile curved her lips.

A sudden frisson of awareness raced along her spine. Hot little prickles went dancing across her skin, followed rapidly by a fleeting ripple of gooseflesh. She stilled. Her lips parted on a silent indrawn breath, and she raised her head to meet the impassive golden eyes that studied her from the doorway.

InuYasha.

That tiny little shock leapt in her belly again, and she blinked; one of his ears twitched, and he started, drawing back. His expression grew belligerent, and for a tense moment Kagome was sure he would walk away. Then he stepped forward, smoothly crossing the room on silent feet to crouch down in front of her. His eyes never wavered from hers, never stopped that potent, searching stare.

A bundle of cloth was tossed onto her lap. “Here.” His voice was gruff, but quiet.

She blinked, then looked down at the loose pile of material that was obviously the promised yukata. She hadn’t noticed him carrying it. Her hands clasped in the soft blue folds, and she glanced up again. “Thank you.” Her volume matched his.

He shrugged, and his eyes slipped from hers to wander aimlessly around the barren room. “Don’t thank me. The old bat said you needed it.” His eyes flashed dark amber at her, his expression wary. “So you’re sure you don’t remember anything, huh?” He sank into a crouch to bring himself closer to her eyelevel. “That’s sure as hell convenient for you, isn’t it?”

Her eyes rounded at the sudden, almost accusing skepticism in his tone. “N-no. I’m sorry, I really am…” Her gaze faltered under his, and anxiety making her uncomfortable. She shifted on the futon. He’d heard their conversation -- he had to have heard it. Didn’t he believe her? Or…was she just not really welcome here? Was she too much of a burden after having been injured and unconscious for so many days? He was the owner of this place, after all. Maybe….

“InuYasha, you idiot! Shut up!”

InuYasha’s head whipped around to glare at Shippou, his pale hair flashing a striking contrast to the knitted gray of his shirt. “What did you say to me, runt?!”

“We just got done making her feel better and you go and make her feel bad again! Idiot!” Shippou’s furious words drew her divided attention back just as the kit picked up the clay cup and hurled it at InuYasha. She winced as it flew by her head.

To her astonishment, with an easy, lightning quick movement, InuYasha plucked the cup from the air in front of his face, and launched it right back with an annoyed scowl. “Back off, brat.” Kagome winced again as the cup hit its target with a hollow thunk, producing a loud wail from the child. Poor Shippou. His head must be hurting worse than hers by now.

She made a soft sound of protest. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Now he was glaring at her. “What? He threw that cup at me first. He knows better.”

“He’s just a child.”

He snorted. “He’s a youkai brat. He barely felt a little lump like that.”

She felt faint indignant at his nonchalance, and her brows drew together in an almost-frown. “You’re youkai too, aren’t you? How is that any different than a human adult hitting a child?”

“He’s not a normal human -- it’s a lot harder to hurt him. I’m telling you he’s fine.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you always this rude to people who save your life?”

Her cheeks flushed hotly. “Are you always this disrespectful of the people who work for you?”

She caught a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in the set of his features. He blinked twice, staring at her. He snorted again, but his eyes didn’t leave her face. “Since when is how I treat my friends any of your business?” He threw the question at her, sounding irritated and slightly angry.

Kagome felt her color heighten, and abruptly she wished he would stop staring at her. His eyes wandered over her face, traced her features. She could feel it. His gaze touched her with a near physical sensation -- the soft trail of golden fingers over her warm cheeks, a heated caress against her mouth. The bizarre sensation melted through her, a liquid rush of warmth that spread underneath her skin.

Her heart gave a hyper thud in her chest, and she swallowed. Her eyelids fluttered slightly as she dragged her eyes away from his unsettling inspection and forced herself to focus on her long-forgotten bowl. Her hands, with their choke-hold on the wood, looked sallow. “It’s n-not. I was just…. I didn’t mean…. ” Her breath felt funny -- shallow, erratic. Her head bowed even lower. “I…I’m sorry.”

A long silence followed her apology. She bit her lip, afraid she’d offended everyone. Then Miroku chuckled, breaking the quiet, and Kagome shot a glance at him. He looked pleased. “Well, I’m impressed, Miss Kagome. Standing up to InuYasha takes courage…but shaming him is an art.”

She risked a glance back at the hanyou, and was surprised to see him still staring at her hands, the look on his face odd, somewhere between chagrin and alarm. His surprise had softened his features and his ears had drooped somewhat from their upright posture. It made him look much younger and less threatening than his previous expressions had; in fact, he looked almost…cute.

Then he ruined the effect by darting a glare at his manager. “Shut up, Miroku. Shippou deserved what he got.”

“Maybe,” Miroku’s deep violet eyes laughed at him. “But you know very well that you shouldn’t have snapped at her like that. The poor girl has only just woken up, and I imagine she is very confused by all this.”

“Yeah. You should be more understanding of little kids, too.” Shippou finally piped up from a reasonably safe distance behind Kagome’s left arm.

InuYasha’s fingers curled into a fist that he pointed threateningly at the small kit. “You looking for some more, Shippou?”

“I think perhaps that our guest has had enough excitement, don’t you?” Miroku glanced at Kagome. “Are you all finished eating? There’s still rice, if you want some.”

Kagome was a bit dazed by the rapid change in atmosphere, but the obvious fact that she hadn’t offended her hosts registered clearly. A small smile formed on her lips, and she shook her head and handed the bowl back to Miroku. “No, thank you. I think I’ve had enough for now.”

She did have another need, though, one that was making itself more and more apparent as time went by. Her brows furrowed as she glanced around the room. “Umm…. Where is…Kaede?”

InuYasha sat back on his heels, then pushed upward, rising in one smooth movement to stand on bare feet. She was slightly disappointed to see that the wariness had returned to his gaze as he glanced down at her. “I saw her a little while ago, heading for the second floor. She said she had something to do and then handed me that thing and told me to give it to you.” His brows tensed slightly. “Said not to let you walk around too much yet.”

Uh-oh. “Will she be back any time soon?”

A shrug. “Beats me. I’m not even sure why she was going upstairs.”

Great. Could she wait? This was definitely not something she wanted to ask of three strange males -- no matter how friendly two of them might be. She shifted, then winced. Well…. Really, all she needed was directions, anyway. “Well, then, could someone…. I mean, could one of you please point out…” All three focused on her inquiringly, and a blush, hot and red, colored her face. “I, umm…have to…I really have to use…” Stop being silly and say it! “Could you tell me where the toilet is?”

It was almost comical, the way that comprehension dawned on three faces at once. Miroku set the tray aside. “How thoughtless of us. Of course.” He leaned forward, reaching for the yukata in her lap. “Why don’t I help you put this on and it will be no trouble to--”

InuYasha was suddenly standing between them, blocking off Miroku’s outstretched hands, scowl firmly in place. “What did I tell you about touching her? She sure as hell doesn’t need your help to put on a stupid robe…and you’re not taking her anywhere, either.”

Miroku looked indignant, but he sat back and crossed his arms with an innocent little huff. “She should have some help if she’s going to try walking around, don’t you think, InuYasha? I was just thinking of her welfare.”

“Keh. You were just thinking of her butt.” He sighed, then turned to her, sounding cross. “Hurry up. Put that thing on and I’ll take you and make sure you get back ok.”

Kagome was feeling pretty indignant herself, and she probably resembled a cherry after all this fuss. She didn’t need help to go to the bathroom! She was injured, not invalid! Besides, did he have to make it sound like a huge inconvenience? “Please, you don’t have to come with me. Just tell me where it is. I’ll be fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure. Just like you were fine when I found you, and just like you were fine right before you passed out the last time, right? It’s no big deal -- just put that thing on, and I’ll show you where to go, and make sure you don’t collapse on the way.”

Shippou didn’t help when he added thoughtfully, “Kagome did almost faint when she tried to stand up earlier. It might be better if InuYasha walks with her.”

As if that settled it, the human, the hanyou, and the youkai all turned to stare expectantly at her.

She almost argued, but decided that besides being petty, it would get her nowhere. Mildly irritated and thoroughly embarrassed, she whipped the yukata around her shoulders, not even thinking of removing the shirt first. She shoved her arms into the wide sleeves, and stood as quickly as her body would allow, wrapping the garment around the shirt and belting it rather haphazardly with the obi.

She looked up as she finished tying the knot. “There, you see, I’m --”

She broke off with a gasp as once again -- oh, damn! -- the blood rushed through her head. Her vision flooded with strange shapes and fuzzy colors. A couple voices spoke sharply somewhere in the background, but the words were nothing more than muffled gibberish over the whooshing in her ears. She was suddenly unable to decide if she was sitting, standing, or falling -- it felt as if she was doing all three at once.

She wobbled, then a warm palm grasped at her elbow -- a firm and steady pressure in a torrent of mind-bending distortion. She reached out a befuddled hand and clutched at the arm behind it. Her fingers curled into the soft material covering the skin, clinging for dear life to the one thing that wasn’t moving.

It took a few moments for the disorientation to recede. The mad whirling in her head gradually died down, and the colorful film over her eyes slowly faded away. She drew a huge breath and let it out slowly as she once again found her center of gravity.

Her eyes focused on the gray threads of a knitted top. Blinking, she followed the threads over the rise of a chest, to where it rested loosely against the skin of a throat. Her eyes flicked up, and her breath caught in her lungs. InuYasha -- mere inches away -- stared down at her, amber eyes darkened with concern, black brows compressed in a tiny frown. Stunned to find him so close, her hands released their grip on his arm and she stepped back. Her bare feet tangled in the folds of the blanket covering the futon, and she teetered.

His eyes widened, and he released her elbow to grab hold of her waist, lifting her off the thin bedding, setting her feet on solid wood -- a good distance away from him -- with an exasperated ‘tsk’. “There -- do you see? It’ll be a hell of a lot of trouble if you topple over like that again.” His hands pulled away hesitantly, watching her closely to make sure she could stand on her own.

Mortified at her clumsiness, and still slightly dizzy, Kagome just nodded.

After a moment, he sighed and stepped around her. “Let’s go. You don’t look like you’ll be able to stand for very long.”

*********************************************************** *************

For a good ten minutes of absolute silence, all she did was stare.

Her reflection, her face. The woman in front of her stared back, her features painted with the same wonder and dismay that Kagome felt as she stood before the mirror like a prisoner before a judge.

Her hand went to her nose, fingers sliding gently down the straight bridge. As if to reassure her, the image before her did the same. She watched as fingertips feathered over the smooth skin, skimming the curled edges of dark lashes. She blinked, and wide gray eyes blinked back. The fingers didn’t stop, but traced over every plane and angle -- the arch of an eyebrow, the slope of a cheekbone, the slim line of a jaw -- before coming to rest against soft, slightly chapped lips.

Nails need a trim, she noted, feeling bemused.

Strange. She knew the lines of this face. She was familiar with that curve at the end of her jawbone. She had somehow expected the small ears to peak from the mass of blue-black locks that was (she grimaced, and obediently, the features in the mirror twisted to follow) in desperate need of a wash. She hadn’t been at all surprised to see the features that peered back at her, and yet….

And yet she didn’t know it, not really. The face before her was both familiar and foreign, an alien landscape that had been mapped, then misplaced. Nothing came to mind upon seeing it -- nothing clicked, nothing sparked -- and yet she knew the exact curve of every feature, would have been shocked to see anything but this when she’d first paused to look.

How could she know, but not know?

She took a deep breath, her fingers going to the thick white strip of cloth around her head, rubbing gently along the area where the padding was thickest. What happened to me? How did I get here, and what was I doing? How can I not remember…anything?

A frown marred her brows, and the eyes in the mirror stared almost mockingly, refusing to give up any details. She turned her gaze downward, away from itself to watch her hands take a death grip on the edge of the sink. She felt lost, floating aimlessly in a space with no up or down and no ground to stand on.

She had no idea what to do next.

Her lips turned down at the edges, weariness in every line of her face. She sucked in a deep breath and sighed, trying to calm the dread. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much she could do, was there? Questioning was pointless, because there was no one to ask. She couldn’t exactly retrace her steps, because she didn’t remember where she’d been. All she could do was try to work it out from here.

She thought back to the room, recalled the panic that had threatened to overwhelm her the moment she’d truly understood what was going on. Tears of helplessness pushed at the back of her throat, and she swallowed, fighting them. Another deep breath, and suddenly Shippou’s face, concerned and supportive, was in her mind, and then the inn’s manager’s as well. They’d both tried so hard to reassure her.

Her hands relaxed their tight hold. Everyone here was so kind. They had taken her in, a complete stranger, and nursed her back to health at the expense of their own time and effort. Why they hadn’t just taken her to a hospital was beyond her ability to comprehend, but she found herself glad. Despite everything, she felt safe here.

Nor, strangely, did she feel compelled to call on the police. Something inside her immediately shied away at the thought of authorities of any kind. She mused over that realization for a moment, but ultimately just gave a mental shrug. Just as well. According to Shippou, the adults at the inn wouldn’t go to the police anyway. Whatever the reason, she would just be thankful not to have to deal with them.

That still left the problem of what to do after she was fully recovered. She would have to leave, eventually, and try to piece together what had happened to her. The prospect was a daunting one. She preferred not to think about it at the moment, so she tucked it away into a corner of her brain for consideration at a later date.

But more than anything, she wanted to repay the people here for their kindness. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend the trouble they’d gone through to help her this far. She wished there was something, anything, that she could do to show them her appreciation.

She glanced at the door, conscious of the male standing on the other side, waiting for her. InuYasha. The owner of this place. If it weren’t for him, she’d think maybe she could stay here.

Of all the things that she had encountered since waking up here, he confused her the most.

He didn’t seem to like her very much, and he certainly didn’t trust her. He hadn’t said a word as he’d led her through the multiple hallways to the bathroom, hadn’t touched her, hadn’t offered any support. He’d barely looked at her, just glowered at the walls as they passed by. It was obvious he didn’t want her around. Yet….

He made her jumpy, nervous, uncomfortable; yet, she felt safest when he was in the same room with her. He was obviously hostile; yet, his eyes had shown concern, and his touch had been gentle and considerate when he’d kept her from falling.

And when he stared at her, when their eyes connected, she felt peculiar. Her insides tensed up, charged with a strange energy, and her breathing grew thin. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, just disconcerting. She thought back to his rather chagrined look when he thought he’d upset her, and wondered if he might have more to him than that prickly, rude exterior.

Maybe. He was the one who had saved her life. And after all, he’d called the people who worked and lived at the his inn his friends, not his employees. Miroku and Shippou seemed to trust him; they’d acquiesced to his commands almost immediately. From what she’d seen and heard, they all seemed very close.

If only he didn’t distrust her so much.

She sighed again, tired of worrying about what would happen tomorrow. Fatigue swept over her, and every muscle in her body went limp, making it harder to move, signaling her to hurry up and finish, that she might have overdone it. Besides, the owner was waiting.

She reached out and turned on the water.

***************************************************************** ******

His ears twitched absently as he slouched against the wall in the hallway, arms and feet crossed casually. The only sign of his impatience was the tapping of one finger against his arm.

He scowled. Just what the hell is she doing? It had been ten minutes since he’d heard anything at all. She should have been out by now. His ears swiveled again, straining to catch even the smallest hint that she needed help.

He was just about to say to hell with etiquette and go storming in, when a faint, despondent little sigh reached his ears, assuring him she was still conscious. With a tiny grumble, he relaxed back against the wall. He’d never been able to figure out what it was with women and bathrooms. As if the damned stupid woman hadn’t already taken enough of his time.

Then he sighed. He should probably cut her some slack. After all, according to her, whatever life she’d had was gone, vanished in one night, in one instant. His right ear flicked, and he shifted uncomfortably, fighting his own thoughts, and the empathy that strengthened the grip on his arms. He knew what she would be feeling right now: lost, frustrated, directionless, scared. Alone. The need to disappear, to get away and think…that was something he understood all too well.

His mouth tightened. That was, if she was telling the truth.

Except, as far as he could tell, she was telling the truth.

His mind wandered back, presenting him with various images of her face since she’d arrived. At first, she’d been unconscious, blissfully unaware, and for a solid week, he’d been able to do nothing but stare at her and wonder. Wonder what her eyes looked like, wonder what she’d have to say, wonder what in the hell had happened to her, and why in the hell it had to happen anywhere near him. Then she’d come awake, and it had been she who stared at him, gray eyes wide with naked emotion.

First confusion and pleading. Then agitation and shock. Then irritation. Surprise. And utter fascination.

Her eyes hadn’t left him alone.

Damn, damn, damn! He didn’t like it, this…this power, this unwitting influence she had over him. It disturbed him, made him want to fight, to throw it off and be rid of it. He could still feel the involuntary tug that had pulled at him the second her eyes first touched his. For an instant, it had been so strong that he’d wanted to run. He’d wanted to turn and dash out into the forest, and fill his lungs with the wild, frozen scents of animals and trees -- had even gone so far as to turn his back -- just to erase the warm, alluring scent of her from his mind.

But it had never been in his nature to run away.

Another sigh reached his ears, followed closely by the sound of running water. He glared at the bathroom door. It’s about godsdamned time. His heel hit the wall, eager to get her back to her temporary bed and away from him.

Before he did something unforgivably stupid.

It didn’t help that he could so easily read her. First with her eyes, and the fascination in them when she’d first seen him. Then, earlier, with the shift in her scent before she’d even looked up, a subtle change that had warned him she knew he was standing at the door. Gods, but his reaction to that had been immediate and unnerving. Then the stupid girl pushed herself too far, and he’d had to grab her, had to touch her and hold her up. Stunned awareness had flashed through her eyes, unconcealed and clear as day, and his whole body had tensed up on him. For a moment of insanity, he’d been so tempted to….

He stared down at his hand, flexing his fingers in and out. The contour of her waist, the warmth of the skin, still clung to his palms. The yukata she wore was of the thin, extremely casual summer type, and, while it did a decent job of blurring her figure, it offered little more in the way of a physical buffer than the shirt she wore did. His shirt. He clenched his fist over the phantom feeling. Not that I haven’t already seen everything she has to offer.

Then he blinked. Not that she was offering.

Shit.

He scowled and shook his head, his gaze turning inward. It had to be her looks. The effect of such a familiar face -- one that he had struggled to erase from his memory for five solid years -- emerging to haunt him. He fought a growl. Just a nightmare from the past, stirring up all the old feelings he thought he’d conquered, both the bad…and the not-so-bad.

He grimaced. Or it could just be time. Damn, but it’s been a long time. Unlike Miroku, he hadn’t bothered to find a body willing to routinely keep him warm for the past five years. In fact, he’d actively avoided anything to do with any member of the opposite sex who wasn’t old and wrinkled. This bitch definitely ain’t old or wrinkled, he thought, flexing his fingers once again.

Either way, he had to find a way to deal with it. She was staying after all, at least until she got her memory back…if she had indeed lost it.

He shook his head, tired of the cyclical pattern of his thoughts, tired of trying to figure out something that just didn’t make sense, tired of the situation in general. It had only been a day since she woke. Maybe, once she’d been around for a while, once he got used to her, everything would settle down again, and it would all go away. He could get back to his normal routine, and he wouldn’t have to worry about her, or her godsdamned effect on him.

The door scraped as it slid open, and his gaze darted up to brush against hers. For several moments, neither moved.

With effort, he managed to drag his eyes away from her, to direct his glance back down the empty hallway. Maybe I can just fucking avoid her until she leaves? “You done?”

Another part of him, a deep and usually silent part, snorted. Sure. You want to stop breathing while you’re at it?

He ignored it.

She hesitated, then, “Y-yes.”

He looked back at her -- he couldn’t help himself -- and this time he really looked at her. Shit. She looked exhausted. Her coloring had paled, and the dark circles under her eyes seemed darker than they had when she went in. Hidden safely inside his mouth, his teeth clenched and ground together. If she fainted, he’d have to carry her back.

With another grumble, he reached out and took hold of her arm, tugging her -- gently -- down the hallway. “Come on. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

She followed willingly, and he kept a concerned eye on her as they walked. He kept his pace slow, because he didn’t feel like dragging her all the way back to her room. “You know the way now. Remember it, and next time you can go by yourself.”

She just nodded tiredly. Damn, but he suddenly wished they hadn’t moved her to the back. The Sachi was actually much bigger than it looked, and several hallways and a few rooms separated the mostly empty storage room at the back from the closest bathroom.

Her thoughts must have been running along the same lines. “How big is this place? Inns are usually pretty big, right?”

He glanced at her again, then shrugged. “There’s three different wings and about thirty rooms, including the common rooms and the kitchen. As far as inns go, the Sachi‘s decent sized, but it can get confusing to find what you want if you don’t know where you’re going, so you better pay attention.”

She nodded again. “Ok.”

They almost ran into Miroku as they made their way through the second of the common living rooms. He was on his way back to the back room, a fresh pitcher of water in hand. He fell into step beside them. “How do you like our little inn, Kagome?”

She blinked, then smiled a little. “Well, I haven’t really seen much, but it seems very nice.” They exited from the living room, and went under a set of stairs. She wrinkled her nose. “A little confusing, maybe.”

Miroku gave a small nod. “Indeed. The Sachi is a little different from most inns you’ll find. It was built by an American, after all. But you’ll get used to it, eventually.” His glance slid over her, assessing, before he glanced at InuYasha. “I’ll have to give you a full tour after you’ve recovered more of your strength. We can’t have you wandering around without knowing where you’re going.”

They reached the back room, and the two men allowed her to go in first. InuYasha noted the way Kagome sank gratefully back onto the small futon, pulling the blanket around herself protectively, as Miroku set the pitcher and yet another clay cup on the floor within easy reach.

She glanced at them both, then looked down to stare at her fingers as they twisted the edge of the blanket self-consciously; several locks of blue-black hair slid over her shoulder to rest against her neck. “Umm…I would very much like a tour, thank you.” Her tongue slicked out, drawing his eyes like a magnet as she moistened dry lips. “But…”

“We’ll have to go into Sounkyo to get you some clothes, too.” Miroku stood, looking over her critically, one finger rubbing absently along the side of his head. He glanced over at InuYasha. “The nightgown she was wearing should be a sufficient example, but we better get her measurements for some of the other things.”

InuYasha frowned warningly at him. “Kaede can do it later.”

Miroku sent him an aggravated look. “I wasn’t suggesting that I do it.”

He snorted skeptically, but didn’t remark as his glance caught Kagome’s surprise. She sat blinking up at them. “But…clothes? I’m not sure…” She paused, then frowned, her eyes seeking his questioningly. “Nightgown?”

“It’s what you were wearing when InuYasha found you.” Miroku explained, still looking thoughtful. “We were hoping you could tell us why it was the only thing you were wearing, but since it appears you don’t remember anything…” He shrugged, and his violet eyes focused on her. “And of course we’re going to get you some clothes. You can’t very well spend the rest of your life in a yukata made primarily for bathing, can you?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Well, no, but…” She turned back to him. Mentally, he scowled, wishing she would stop looking at him as if he had the answers to all her questions. She sighed. “I suppose I need clothes, don’t I?” She bowed her head, biting her lip. “You have all been so very kind. I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you. I promise I’ll find a way to repay you, after I’ve gotten better.”

They both stared at her. Miroku glanced over at InuYasha, then folded to sit comfortably on the floor. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. “Ah, yes. When you get better.” He studied her seriously. “I know you’re only recently awake, and this may be too early to ask, but I wonder, Miss Kagome…have you given any thought to what you’re going to do? Considering that you have no memories of whatever life you’ve had, do you really have any idea what you’re going to do after you’re able to move around freely?”

For a moment, her look turned stricken, and InuYasha felt a frown pulling at his features. Then she sighed again, and her gaze returned to her hands as her fingers resumed their anxious twisting. “Well…. I’m not entirely sure. I feel like I need to try and find out who I am, and what happened to me, but I’m not really sure how to do that.” She looked uncertain. “I know I’ll need a way to support myself…but I haven’t really….”

Miroku nodded sympathetically. “May I offer a suggestion?” She looked up at him inquiringly. “Perhaps you could give some thought to staying here, as a staff member at the Sachi.”

Kagome stilled, her expression one of blank surprise, then she darted hesitant look over to where he still hovered in the doorway. His face tightened and he glanced away, refusing to meet her eyes, afraid of what she might see in his. Miroku took note of the brief exchange before continuing. “You have no place else to go, and, while you may not realize it, you’ve been with us for the past week, and we’ve grown rather fond of you. I believe we would all hate to see you out on your own all alone.”

Kagome blinked at him, eyes still wide. “A job? But…what would I do?”

Miroku relaxed back, his expression still solemn, but InuYasha could detect a hint of satisfaction in his tone. “Anything that Kaede has trouble doing. Currently, it is only the four of us here, running the Sachi, and while having such a small staff may keep us busy, it does put undo stress on the poor old dear. Don’t mistake me, this would be very hard work.” He paused. “But we could definitely use the help, and,” he shrugged, “we’ve been thinking of hiring on anyway.”

InuYasha suppressed a snort at the ease with which the lie fell, unwilling to give Miroku away. Kagome still looked unconvinced. She turned yet another probing look on him, almost as if she were testing him. This time, he met her gaze, but he let nothing of his uncertainty show. She glanced back at Miroku. “I’m not sure what my skills are,” she warned him. “I’m not to sure how I’d do.”

Miroku finally allowed himself a smile. “Let me assure you, I have the utmost of confidence in your abilities, Miss Kagome -- whatever they turn out to be.” He got to his feet, his hands dusting off the casual black pants he wore. “Well, it’s just a suggestion, and you have plenty of time to decide. Please don’t feel pressured, or that you owe us in any way. We were only doing what any good person would have done. If you decide that you don’t want to remain here at the Sachi, we will be more than pleased to find you other accommodations. We would, of course, be very sad to see you go, but….” He strolled over to the door, then turned to look at her. “Just promise me you’ll think it over.”

It took her a moment, but she finally smiled back at him. “I will. Thank you.”

Miroku nodded. “No, thank you. It is our great honor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do have some business to take care of.” With a meaningful glance at InuYasha, he disappeared down the hall.

InuYasha frowned after him, then turned back to Kagome, who was now staring thoughtfully at her hands. “You’ll be ok by yourself?”

Surprised, she glanced back up. Her eyes held the weary look of someone who has heard too much at once, and her shoulders slumped with strain. His frown deepened, but she smiled once again. “Yes. Thank you. I think I’ll just take a little nap. I’ll be fine.”

He gave her a hard stare, then nodded shortly before stepping out, sliding the door shut behind him. His ears twitched as the rustling of cloth indicated that she had lain down.

It took him less than a minute to find Miroku. He was sitting at his station at the reception desk, typing awkwardly on his ultra-portable second love, that godsdamned laptop. His expression was absorbed, and didn’t change when InuYasha arrived with a scowl. “You laid that on a little thick, don’t you think?”

Miroku didn’t even look up. “What? I guarantee that she’ll stay. Isn’t that what we decided she should do? Now we can keep an eye on her.” He glanced down at a pile of papers near his elbow. “No luck with the missing persons reports, by the way. Not that I expected it. I have absolutely nothing to go on. From what I’ve been able to determine, no one in all of Japan has reported a young woman, with black hair, gray eyes, with her approximate height and weight, missing in the last week or so.” He finally looked up. “Same results for the name Kagome.”

His scowl didn’t let up with the news. “So what the hell are you doing now?”

“This?” Miroku looked surprised. “I’ve been researching amnesia. As far as I can tell, her symptoms seem to be consistent with a type known as retrograde amnesia. Victims usually suffer some severe head injury, and lose memories prior to said injury.” Violet eyes turned speculative. “It certainly lends to her credibility, doesn’t it?”

He allowed his claws to strum lightly across the top of the desk, leaving tiny holes in the polished wood. “Does it say if she’ll be able to remember?”

Miroku shrugged. “It says that in most cases, amnesiacs will usually, gradually, regain most, if not all, of their memories. But it also says that some never do. That basically supports what Kaede said.” He paused. “She believes her, by the way. So does Shippou, if he counts for anything.”

“Keh.” His fingers strummed a few more times before he sighed. “Damn. We’re still back where we started. Nothing we can do now but wait and watch.” He turned. Maybe, just maybe, it really was just a coincidence, and life would finally get back to normal…albeit with one incredibly disturbing addition.

“Where are you going?”

“The upper shelf in the women’s bath is broken again.” His reply was clipped and to the point. “I’m going to fix it while the guests are out.” He paused, jaw clenched tightly, waiting for what he knew was coming.

“InuYasha…don’t you think we should --”

“No.” He bit out the word.

“But--”

“Just what the hell good would it do?” He didn’t bother to turn around. The subject would be brief. “What the hell can he do that you can’t?”

“He should know.”

“He should also go fuck himself up the ass, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon, do you?” The growl was back in his tone -- a clear warning sign.

Miroku gave a dry chuckle. “Now there’s an image I never wanted in my head.” Then he sighed. “Ok, you’re the boss.”

A bitter smile twisted his lips. “Yeah, well…he made sure of that, didn’t he?”

************************************************************* **********

A/N: I’ve taken a few liberties with the Japanese language here--certain terms such as youkai (demon), arigato (thank you), and gomen, or gomen ne (I’m sorry/forgive me) are and will be used interchangeably with their English counterparts throughout the story.

Yukata: literally means bath robe or bathing cloth; they’re a type of extremely casual kimono that are worn to festivals and frequently around bath houses and hot springs

And thanks to those of you who reviewed. This story is a favorite of mine, and while it’s currently taking a back seat to other projects, I will be updating whenever I can. Let me know if there’s any way I can improve, or if you have any questions. I’ll be most happy to answer them…if I can. (evil maniacal laughter sounds in the background) Whoops! Was that me??? O.o

Blessings until next time, ~ Quill :P