InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ This Mess We're In ❯ Impossible Dream ( Chapter 10 )

This Mess We're In

Chapter 9: Impossible Dream

Disclaimers: I don't own.

Rating: There are two versions of the story from here on out, one is rated R and one is rated NC-17. This one is rated - NC17.

Summary: Kagome's back in the present, and she's about to meet a guy named Sesshou. What happened in Sengoku Jidai? Neither of them know yet, either. 2 stories in 1, present and past. Kag/Sess.

Chapter Summary: People have dreams. Others lurk. Hojo has coffee, and someone really creepy comes out to play.

Soundtrack (tracks available on my website):

Part A - Bjork: Venus as a Boy

Part B - GUK: Close to Me (covering the Cure)

*****

--- Present Day ---

**********

The late-night air hung heavily over the city, strangely warm and kinetic with potential. In the distance, the faint roll of thunder was barely audible.

It hadn't rained for weeks, but it began to at half-past three. With the barest of warning, sheets of water began to fall, like planes of clouded glass.

The deluge blurred the darkened outlines of buildings, sobering and drenching the few who were unlucky enough to be on the streets.

Grease and grime washed off concrete, and into storm drains. Tokyo's inhabitants slept on, unaware.

Some, however, were not yet asleep.

**********

He slipped in the door silently. Over the many years of his existence, he had learned stealth.

It had become second nature to him. He had been loud, even brash, in his youth. However, over countless years, he had discovered that certain degrees of discretion were necessary to get by in a world that had forgotten that your kind existed.

He looked in the bathroom mirror, brows furrowing slightly as he toweled rain from his hair.

Another night had brought another fruitless search. In truth, he was taking his time. His mission wasn't getting any more urgent. It had been years since he had been in Japan, and he had taken the opportunity to explore. It was funny that, even with the changes time brought, this place still felt like home.

Once he was ready for bed, he crept to his futon and slipped under the covers.

"Don't you get tired of lurking and wandering around all night? What are you going to do when you find him?"

The quiet voice that broke the silence was young, female, and a little disapproving. At the faint sound, a pair of glowing eyes blinked open, quickly adjusting to the deep black of the apartment.

The sound of pelting raindrops was thick, but soothing.

"Go back to sleep, Hanako," he replied, unable to summon much irritation.

She yawned, obviously tired, and yet the talking continued. "Uncle, you need a hobby. How do you feel about macramé? The place could use a plant hanger or two. Or even just a plant." It was dark, but he had no difficulty seeing her disgusted gesture. It was hard to argue with her point.

Not, of course, the suggestion that he should take up some hippie-fied crafts project, but that the place was disturbingly empty.

They had only just moved into a new flat, and it still smelled of construction. The room was completely empty save for two futons, one on each end of the room, and a low table to eat off of in between.

She had insisted that they wait to move into their bedrooms, as she was still unfamiliar with the place, and hated to wake up disoriented. At the moment, he was regretting his capitulation.

He peered across the room, trying to gauge whether or not she was serious about the tasteless plant-hangers, and then felt rather than heard her weary sigh. "And when you find him? What then?"

His low laugh echoed lightly off the blank walls. "When I find him, I've got a blade with his name on it." His nose twitched slightly, and his lip curled up slightly in distaste, exposing the point of a fang to the darkness.

The smell of recently dried plaster was hardly pleasant.

"There's also that old flea-bitten furry thing," he added after some contemplation. "I could strangle him with it. That would teach him to take me seriously."

"You definitely need a hobby," the girl concluded, voice slurred and indistinct. "How about crochet?" She yawned the question, and seemed to cling to consciousness by sheer force of will. "You could cover the apartment with doilies."

He rolled to his side with a grunt. "Shut up and go back to sleep."

She did. He didn't.

**********

At that very moment, two others lay in their homes, deaf to the muted rush of rain. They curled in their beds, limbs loose and warm, completely motionless except for the quick twitch of dreaming eyes, and the small starts of slumber.

By morning, the downpour would cease, leaving everything with a shine of newness as the streets started to teem with human life once more.

Some things, however, never washed away completely. Water, as harmless as it seemed, had the power to wear a path in stone.

Breathing softly between parted lips, two slept on.

In mind, if not in body, they were far away.

**********

Fingers slid teasingly over her ribcage, smoothing the hem of her cotton tank top up over her warm skin. A heated mouth moved slowly over her, barely skimming her curves as she shifted, aching.

His hands were strong, warm, and almost too careful. It often began this way, before the exaggerated gentleness faded and firm, urgent pressure took its place.

For now, however, the hands on her inner thighs lingered lightly, applying only enough encouragement to urge them apart. She capitulated with a sigh, convinced by the butterfly whisper of eyelashes on her belly, and the warmth of his breath washing over her navel through the cold night air. The silk of his sleeves settled lightly on her bared skin.

The sound of her name, in taut syllables, was accompanied by the spasmodic clutching of his fingers at her hips. With a sudden movement, he jerked her roughly towards his waiting mouth.

She bit back a cry. They were always quiet, always sneaking away from the others. Screams were forced down, dying into a hitch in the breath. Moans were muffled by the back of her hand, or better yet, released into his parted lips.

At the moment, however, his delicious mouth was far away from hers and otherwise occupied. He nipped lightly at the skin of her inner thigh, tongue lingering over the small birthmark there.

Her fingers stroked feverishly over his scalp, running unsteadily through his hair as her hips leapt reflexively against his face. She felt him smile faintly against her before he pulled back slightly, rubbing the cool tip of his nose against flesh that was suddenly too hot, and too sensitive. Her head tilted back. She was barely aware of her teeth sinking into her lower lip.

His breathing became louder as he shifted between her thighs, tugging her legs over his shoulders. She shuddered, now defenseless against the rough heat of his tongue.

Her teeth bit harder into her lip, as she tried to remain quiet. She tasted the faint rust of blood. Muscles tensed, rolling gradually beneath her skin like shifting desert in the wind. Her nails dug slightly into him wherever she could reach, scratching lightly over the curve of his slowly moving jaw.

She became faintly aware of a burning, tingling sensation in the soles of her feet, and the low rumble he was making in his throat. The fingers of one hand clenched and pulled in his hair, while her other cupped his neck, shaking. He made a low sound of approval, and she felt him rock his pelvis unsteadily, flexing in reflection of his tongue's slow, torturous thrusts.

She released her hold on him, pressing her wrists against the rough ground. Briefly, she registered that her hair would be full of leaves again, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

She was too overwhelmed. The bite of her nails in her palms, the warmth of his still-clothed shoulders beneath her bare thighs, the cool silk of his hair falling against her skin, and the unbearably knowing flicks of his tongue over her wet, needing flesh all combined to drive practical considerations from her mind.

Balanced on the precipice, she writhed, trying with all her might not to scream. Even the warm tears running slowly down her temples seemed to push her further, like a liquid touch. Her fingers, still pressed back against the grass, ached to feel him.

He wouldn't let her, though. Not until he was finished. Afterwards, he would let her do as she pleased. She made a soft sound of anticipation in her throat at the thought as she watched him.

From a distance, through the roaring of blood in her ears, she saw him raise his head, licking his glistening lips. Fierce, hooded, golden eyes in a flushed face met hers, and then his voice rasped a command against overheated skin, his hands raising her hips as he pressed his panting mouth against her once more.

"Come for me."

The words, thick with arousal, and the caress of his lips and breath made her shiver and squeeze her eyes shut. She pressed her palm to her mouth, trying to muffle her moan.

Then, his fingers were parting her and he leaned down, running his tongue over her roughly before sucking her flesh into his hungry mouth. His hand pressed flat against her stomach as his tongue glided over her, mouth slanting over her with a starved growl, and it was too much, too much. . .

She bit her palm so hard that it bruised.

**********

Kagome suddenly sat up, chest heaving, thighs slick, and muscles still twitching. Dimly, she noticed that she had somehow jammed her hand into her mouth and bitten the hell out of it. She removed it and winced, both at the pain, and at the sight of the twin crescent indentations left by her teeth. Sweaty strands of hair clung to her neck.

"Holy crap," she mouthed in shock, before falling back on her pillow. She shifted against the covers, but the caress of the flannel pajamas on her still sensitized skin sent a new set of delicious shudders through her. An image appeared before her closed eyes as sensation raced through her once more, a name springing to her lips, as burning golden irises appeared before her vision.

"S-Sesshou?"

She whispered the name, and the taste of it on her tongue alone made her body clench, as though it recognized something that her mind didn't.

Kagome stilled, drowsiness turning her limbs to jelly as she curled back into her soft bed.

"I won't be able to look him in the face ever again." Kagome tugged the sheet over her blush at the memory of exactly where his face had been a few moments before. "Oh, gods. . ." she repeated breathlessly.

Then, her eyes widened slightly in confusion. It was a little weird that he was dressed like some kind of odd warrior prince in her dream, and that he'd had his stripes out and outlandishly long hair.

Really soft hair.

Mmm.

Nice hair.

Nice everything, really.

Later, she knew that she would be embarrassed, but just now, she couldn't seem to summon the energy. Actually, Kagome was mildly annoyed that he had remained fully clothed.

She felt so warm and languid, but the ache of loss lived behind her eyes.

Stretching like a cat, she rolled over, and was soon asleep again.

**********

Sesshou blinked his eyes again, half-asleep, and was greeted once more with the cold white plaster of his ceiling.

It was a lot less interesting than what he'd been seeing in his mind's eye a few seconds prior.

She had been hot and wild beneath his hands and lips. He could still taste her, like a warm honey sea on his tongue. He could smell her on each raggedly exhaled breath.

He trembled slightly. The soft, smooth cotton of his sheets felt rough on his naked skin, abrading his nipples and aroused flesh in ways that made his breath catch helplessly in his throat. His skin was slightly damp with sweat, and the heat in his blood was unbearable.

Every muscle wound tighter.

Unbeknownst to him, the stripes on his skin were a deep, livid scarlet.

Sesshou closed his glowing eyes, and saw her again.

The thin, dark tank-top she wore was shoved up over her breasts. Her body arched like a bow, thighs tense over his shoulders, bare heel digging into his back. Her palm muffled her cries as she threw her head back in passion, dark hair tangling in the grass beneath them.

He groaned. Gods, he couldn't stand knowing how good she tasted, and then waking up like this. Somehow, he knew her touch. He knew what she liked to do to him.

He could practically feel her juices on his face.

Sesshou licked his lips, and then cursed low in his throat at being pulled from the dream before she could make good on the promise in her dark eyes.

His hand slid slowly beneath the covers, lightly drawing down his chest and circling his navel.

She was shy at first, fingertips slightly rough from fighting feathering like birds' wings over his skin.

His fingers slid lower, following the line of soft hair over his belly, and then running teasingly over his length. He found that he was already wet, pulsing heavily with each beat of his heart.

His breath rasped in his throat, and he bit back a groan as fingers closed over his flesh.

In his mind, he saw her, the way she nibbled her lip in concentration and embarrassment at the way he watched her. He could see the way she bent over him, flushed with want. She laid her hands on him, wrapped her fingers around him, and pressed her warm mouth to his chest as she stroked him slowly.

Sesshou bucked into his hand with a low cry of pleasure.

Her tongue traced warm swirls around his nipples. Her unoccupied hand combed lightly through the thatch of soft hair between his legs, and then traced lower at his whispered guidance. Then, her mouth tracked slowly over his overheating skin to meet her hands, wet heat that was so like the core of her. Her teeth came into teasing contact with the skin of his hip.

Neck straining, Sesshou's head turned into his pillow, hand moving steadily beneath the sheets.

Her dark hair spilled over his stomach, her pink lips closing over him as she looked into his eyes. He never understood how she managed to appear so innocent even when doing this, when her mouth wrapped so knowingly around him. He could hear her pulse thundering through her body with renewing desire.

He released a hungry growl, and was distantly surprised at the sound, but even that could not penetrate his fever. His grip tightened, squeezing, fingers tracing to match the teasing movements of her tongue before she engulfed him and sucked fiercely. Her mouth moved over him almost too roughly. He could smell her, new arousal mixing with the scent of her climax in the cold air.

He thrust into his slick hand, his control in shreds and his body shaking.

"Kagome," he gritted between his teeth, imagining her lips moving over him, her hands restraining his jerking hips.

Then, he felt the slick heat of climax spill over his fingers and the tense, ridged muscles of his stomach.

Her scent, taste and touch faded slowly like ghosts, leaving him alone with nothing but the smell of his own release.

Sesshou lay panting for a few moments, hand still cupping spent flesh. He opened his eyes reluctantly, reaching for a tissue.

Afterwards, he fell back on his pillow, once more staring at the ceiling.

He couldn't remember ever having such a dream, or one that extended upon waking through his will alone.

It was like the others. The whole experience felt as though it were woven with the texture of reality. The scent of leaves, the sensation of the grass beneath him felt more like memory.

He'd known her name when he'd first seen her, but dismissed the incident from his mind, thinking it inconsequential, but now. . .

She had strange abilities, as did he. Sesshou had never set much store by coincidence.

Somehow, he had memories of Kagome.

"Shit," Sesshou murmured quietly into the slowly lightening room.

**********

"Shit, Kagome! It was horrible. Words can't even describe the depths of angst that my date induced."

Kagome was on the phone, having finally managed to get Yuka on the line. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the drapes in the living-room. Souta was, as per usual, riveted to the television and inflicting bloody death on some pixilated characters with outlandish costumes.

Kagome, on the other hand, was lounging on the couch and studying her recently polished toes with a critical eye.

The shade was all wrong, but she'd only been able to find the one bottle of deep, bloody red in her rather disorganized desk drawer. It was just too dramatic, and not really her style at all. Kagome had never been a histrionic gothette type. Her toes might as well be carrying a neon sign saying, `Look at me! Now that you have, go away and die in a pit of your own angst!'

Kagome blinked. It would probably have been good to stop over-analyzing her pedicure, and start paying attention to the topic at hand: specifically, the pit of angst in which Yuka was currently stewing.

As if to underline that particular thought, Yuka wailed. She actually wailed, in the way professional mourners in some countries were paid to wail when some eminent person passed on. Kagome was impressed by the sheer lung capacity involved. It was good that Yuka had a career option in another field, if the whole nursing thing didn't work out.

She swung her legs up onto the couch and relaxed into the cushions.

"Well," she responded consolingly, "it can't have been that bad. So you had a less than great date. I'm sure that things will improve-"

The volume of Yuka's reply forced Kagome to remove the handset from her ear.

"Less than great?!?" Yuka was practically howling in anguish. "Gods, Kagome, you have no idea! If I had to give my night a genre, I'd be torn between horror and science fiction!"

Kagome blinked again, and returned the phone to her ear at the end of Yuka's strange and cryptic outburst. "Well," she ventured, "I guess I don't have to ask why you changed your number then. I was a little surprised when I dialed and was forwarded to `Shinichirou's Costume Barn.' Oh, by the way - if you're interested, they are apparently having a grand opening sale."

Yuka let out a shaky laugh. "That is just too perfect! I hope that Luke guy tried to phone me. Not that he really needs any assistance in that regard. If Darth Maul hadn't shown up, I'd have killed him with a breadstick."

Yep. The laughter had definitely escalated into a cackle. Kagome pulled a blanket around her with a shiver. Yuka's hysteria was giving her chills. That had to be the sort of sound a person made immediately before they turned an automatic rifle on their former workplace.

And. . . Darth Maul?

"Well, what happened?" Kagome asked cautiously.

Yuka paused, obviously fumbling for words. "It was. . . like there was a camera crew hiding somewhere. It was just that weird; it almost felt like it had to be fictional, and some anonymous person was behind the scenes, pulling my strings for their own sadistic kicks. I've never been so humiliated in my life."

Yuka took a breath at that point and tried to replenish her oxygen supply before she dropped the bomb. "He was dressed in a Star Wars costume. He introduced himself as Luke Skywalker."

Kagome was struck speechless, and bit her lip to hold her laughter inside. Something told her that Yuka would not appreciate the comedic value of her experience. "Hm," she observed, recovering. "Well, I guess you won't be going on a date for a while, then. Take time to, er, recover, like mental health days, or something."

"Whatever," Yuka said dismissively. "Revenge is the only recovery I need. I'm getting right back on the horse. After I replace my cousin's shampoo with depilatory cream, of course. She set me up, in both senses."

Kagome didn't want to embroil herself in what promised to become a bloody vendetta, but she couldn't refrain from asking, "Don't you think that's a bit harsh?"

Yuka was silent for a moment, and Kagome got the distinct impression that she was exercising immense control over herself. "Kagome," she said calmly. "He had a light-saber."

"Oh. . ." The syllable was rich with awed horror.

"He called the waiter. With the light-saber."

Kagome winced, feeling a pang of sympathetic humiliation. "Ohhhhhh."

"Which remained in his hand for the entire evening."

"I see," Kagome conceded slowly. "I will comment no further on your quest for justice, as I cannot comprehend the extent of your pain or psychological scarring."

"Damn right," Yuka replied, sounding marginally more cheerful. "But, anyway, I'm going out with a guy from one of my classes. He's kind of cute, definitely smart, and I've never seen him in a Jedi robe. I think I may be onto something here. There's nowhere to go but up, right?"

Kagome voiced her encouragement, but couldn't get over the feeling that Yuka had just jinxed herself.

**********

He should have known that he wouldn't be able to get an afternoon of uninterrupted reading done.

Sesshou tossed the collected works of Locke onto the coffee table when he was disturbed by a knock on the door. He had been listening to Charlie Parker and trying to get through some course material. The thick volume landed with a decisive thud.

When he pulled the door open, he was unsurprised to find Hojo standing on the doorstep with his hands in his pockets and a big smile on his face.

After Sesshou's parents had died, Hojo had come by more frequently to see if he was doing all right, and would natter on incessantly about whatever he'd read in the news, or whatever movie he had last seen. The green-eyed young man merely laughed at Sesshou's insults, just as Sesshou tolerated Hojo's intrusion into his personal space.

Hojo was a specialist in the art of distraction, and had no qualms about inflicting his company on Sesshou on a regular basis. Hojo liked to claim to be Sesshou's link to the common man. Sesshou usually parried by saying that Hojo was, in fact, the Missing Link - citing that there was no other explanation for even the faintest interest in American Football.

Despite Sesshou's occasional annoyance at the impromptu visits, by the time Hojo left, he always seemed to feel a little better.

"Hi!" the dark-haired young man exclaimed, closing the door behind him and then following Sesshou back into the living room. Once there, Hojo flung himself onto the armchair with a happy sigh, before turning to the Sesshou with a hopeful smile. "How's it going? What have you been up to, best friend?"

Sesshou looked suspiciously in Hojo's direction as he sat back down on the couch. Obviously, he wanted something. "You're not exactly subtle."

Hojo looked abashed for a moment, and tapped his fingers along with the music for a moment before leaning forward. Sesshou hid his amusement. The request for a favor would be forthcoming in three, two, one-

"Um, I was just wondering. You know Higurashi, right?"

Sesshou was brought up short. Yes, he did know her, he thought to himself - possibly even biblically.

Of course, it would probably be better not to mention that to Hojo.

"Hn," Sesshou replied.

"Well," Hojo went on, "do you think that maybe you could come shopping with me? Maybe you could help me find something she'd like."

Sesshou shot Hojo an extremely skeptical look.

"What?" Hojo asked, defensive. "I like to get her stuff. It's what I do. It's my thing!"

Sesshou looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "It occurs to me that the gifts haven't worked very well for you so far. Maybe you should find a new thing."

Hojo looked up in consideration, and Sesshou could almost see a light-bulb flare above the other boy's head.

"You know what?" Hojo began pensively. "I should have thought of this before. You're a girl magnet! You should lend me your wisdom. What's your secret?"

Sesshou's face betrayed none of his unease. He had no desire to become Hojo's advisor in this matter. In fact, he realized with a twinge of guilt, the ideas he had about Kagome in particular were not of the kind he was at all inclined to share.

Hojo remained blissfully oblivious to his friend's train of thought, though he continued to watch him with a strange look of concentration. Suddenly, he sat up straight. "Aha!"

Sesshou merely looked at him, completely expressionless.

"That! That must be it," Hojo mused. "You don't do anything to attract girls. You hardly ever talk to them. You rarely even look at them. You have this whole inscrutable man of mystery thing happening. Gods, it's true," he exclaimed with wide eyes and an air of realization. "You're a cool, enigmatic bastard!"

Sesshou merely raised an eyebrow, causing Hojo to gesture towards him with a nod.

"See? Calm. Collected. Almost no emoting whatsoever," he observed in an admiring voice.

Sesshou scowled slightly. He was starting to feel like a bug under a microscope.

Hojo merely pointed again. "And, when you do respond to stimuli, it's almost always a negative reaction!" He nodded again, rubbing his chin scientifically as he examined Sesshou, lost in speculation. "It probably makes girls want to crack your stony façade. Plus, my sister says that you dress well," he concluded in a sage tone of voice.

Sesshou blinked. When Hojo looked as though he was about to point at him and make another pronouncement, Sesshou hurriedly cut him off.

**********

"So," Yuka cut in, using the casual tone that Kagome had long ago learned to fear. "Have you run into Sesshou lately, by any chance?"

"No," Kagome retorted, almost choking with embarrassment. Yuka couldn't help but notice the strange note in her friend's voice.

"Hm. Right."

Kagome scowled. She hated it when Yuka used the `hm. right.' The two words seemed calculated to make her spill any and all her secrets. How was it that Yuka could make such a brief utterance so heavy with skepticism? Why, god, why?

It was like thumbscrews or something.

"I had a dream about him," Kagome blurted unthinkingly. She'd never held up well under pressure. "It was dirty." She groaned inwardly and almost smacked her forehead when she heard what came out of her mouth.

This definitely qualified as oversharing.

Yuka snickered with quiet glee. For much of her high school tenure, Kagome had been hung up on a violent, two-timing, man-whorish secret boyfriend. Yuka had always thought it a little strange that a girl who had never had much of a poker face had managed to stay close-lipped about that whole matter. Usually, all you had to say was "Hm. Right," and she would spill faster than spaghetti on a five year old.

Yuka had disapproved. Kagome had even let slip that the guy's brother had been even more violent. Obviously, that family had issues by the bucketful. Yuka thanked the gods daily that Kagome was done with that crowd. She wouldn't be at all surprised if she found out that their delinquency had bee detrimental to Kagome's already poor health.

Well, Yuka thought to herself, at least Sesshou seemed reasonably normal. He was quiet, and probably on the conventional side. Yuka herself found him a bit standoffish, but if her suspicions about Kagome's dating history were correct, normal and boring might be just what she needed.

"Well," Yuka posited, "maybe you SHOULD hang out with him outside of dreamland, you perv. You like him, right?" At the dead air on the phone line, Yuka rolled her eyes slightly and smiled. She could practically hear Kagome blushing. "Come on," she prodded. "It's not like it's an alternate lifestyle choice or anything. You're a girl, he's a guy, and you get along. He's easy on the eyes, he doesn't think he's Luke Skywalker. . ." she coaxed. "Trust me, the rest is cake."

Kagome was quiet. For some reason, an image had sprung into her mind, fully formed. In it, Sesshou was waving a glowing blue sword around, as a nearby Yoda-like creature hunched over a weird-looking walking stick. Kagome smiled briefly before her brow crinkled in puzzlement.

Sesshou wasn't dressed in any Jedi-like raiment though, unless Lucasfilms costume department had started to stock large fuzzy things. And why would she picture him with long white hair and armor? Was she developing some kind of fetish for long hair? It was bad enough that he was starring in her night-time XXX feature presentations, but what was that about?

She also couldn't figure out why he would be stepping casually onto a painfully croaking Yoda.

Kagome sighed and shook her head to clear it. Her brain was weird.

**********

Giving Hojo dating advice was weird.

"Have you tried acting normally around her?" Sesshou asked pointedly. "When we were in that restaurant, I noticed that you seemed sort of. . ."

He trailed off meaningfully. There really wasn't any tactful way to say it.

Hojo seemed to wilt, sagging into the leather armchair. "I just can't," he said sadly. "I've tried, but I get so nervous. I babble. It's kind of gross, too. Sweating occurs," he finished morosely.

Sesshou looked a little perturbed at that bit of information.

With a gusty sigh, Hojo wilted even further. Sesshou couldn't remember when he'd last seen him so dejected.

"Maybe I should give up," Hojo mumbled. "She probably hates me or something." Leaning his head back against the leather, he stared at the ceiling for a while, trapped in silent horror. "What if she thinks I'm just a dumb, sweaty freak?" Hojo whispered. Something in his expression made it clear that, if she did, his world would come to an abrupt and painful end.

Sesshou shook his head slightly, as Hojo surfed away on a wave of destructively low self-esteem. "I doubt she hates you. Maybe if you just hang out with her more, it will help. . . with the talking, and. . . and the sweating," he added with a slight look of distaste.

Gods, Sesshou thought to himself. How had he gotten into this situation? He was discussing perspiration, for god's sake.

He was starting to rue one fateful day fifteen years ago.

On that day, a brown haired kid had come over to the house with a really awesome collection of toy trucks. The two boys had been left to their own devices, while their mothers had tea together.

The five-year-old Sesshou, accustomed to spending his time alone, had been torn. On one hand, he had never seen so many toy trucks, and really wouldn't have minded playing with them. On the other hand, he had not yet finished his latest project of building an impenetrable lego fortress.

Sesshou had never really played well with others. The cheerful, talkative owner of the trucks significantly reduced their appeal.

Then, Sesshou had spotted the fire engine. It had had sirens, lights, and everything.

When Hojo's keen eye had seen the pale-haired boy's barely concealed fascination, he had said with a smile that Sesshou could borrow it for as long as he wanted.

Sesshou, feeling slightly awkward, had accepted the offer. After all, it was not as though he would have to play with the other boy. Then, during the course of the afternoon, Hojo had crashed several of his own toy trucks and suggested that a fire engine was required at the scene of the accident.

Sesshou had concurred.

During the week that followed, Hojo decided that Sesshou should keep the fire engine. In the interim, Hojo had had a painful altercation with the stove. His subsequent discovery that he disliked hot things - most especially fire - caused him to amend his future career choice from fireman to astronaut.

That would have been the end of their brief association, if Hojo had not called on Sesshou for help. One sunny afternoon, Hojo had materialized at Sesshou's door with a desperate look in his eyes.

Through Hojo's terrified babbling, Sesshou had managed to ascertain that Hojo's older sister planned to dress the little boy up as a pretty, pretty princess. Hojo hadn't known where else to turn. All the other kids in the neighborhood were already in Haruka's pocket.

"Spies!" Hojo had exclaimed hopelessly. "She has spies everywhere! Once, I ran away and they turned me in. She made me wear a fur hat and eat cat food." At Sesshou's puzzled look, Hojo had miserably whispered, "Mom won't let us have pets."

Sesshou, at the mention of such atrocities, had calmly hidden Hojo in the toy storage closet. Then, he'd opened the front door to find an irate eight-year-old girl, fiercely clutching a ruffled pink dress and a large assortment of barrettes and hair ribbons.

Sesshou had withstood Haruka's interrogation with unshakable composure, coldly informing her that no defected princesses or cats were in the vicinity.

Haruka had been discomfited by Sesshou's immunity to her intimidation tactics. Though she had her suspicions that he was lying when he told her that he did not know where, or even who, Hojo was, she found herself backing away. For some reason, she had felt that challenging this kid would be foolish, even though he never came out very much. He seemed like a leader type, and Haruka did not intend to put herself in a situation where she, at the age of nine, would be humiliated by a five-year-old.

When Sesshou had opened the closet door to release the refugee, a surprising sight had greeted him. Hojo, eyes squinted in concentration, had been constructing a rather impressive watchtower for Sesshou's ever-expanding lego fortress.

"The walls are really thick. No one will be able to get in. You need watchtowers though, and another gate," Hojo had observed, searching for a eight-dot piece in Sesshou's lego bucket. "If you don't have a watchtower, how will you know if the army coming isn't just friends coming to visit you? You can have a secret gate where you sneak people in when Haruka wants to dress them up."

Sesshou had looked thoughtful for a second, while Hojo grinned and carefully moved the fortress from the closet to the well-lit hallway. The dark-haired boy studied it, leaning down. " There's lots of trees! What is the plastic wrap going around the wall supposed to be?"

Sesshou had been a little startled. No one besides his parents had ever expressed any interest in his fortress before, and his mom had been totally faking it. He could tell because she kept saying `hm yes dear,' the way she did when dad talked about the car. "Barriers," he had replied succinctly. "There are nine of them."

Hojo had looked back at him, bursting with curiosity. "That's a lot. How do they work?" The dark-haired boy bent to the fortress, brows furrowed in concentration. "Oh, do you have any juice? I like grape."

After that, the two boys had gone into the kitchen, spilling large amounts of grape juice as they discussed all the things that a proper fortress ought to have.

It was true, Sesshou thought fatalistically. His boyhood weakness for fire-trucks, as well as his participation in a secret, princess-rescuing underground had made this predicament inevitable.

Hojo lifted his chin, looking a bit more like his usual cheerful self. "My nerves wouldn't be so bad, if I could get used to being around her," he exclaimed, bringing Sesshou's musings to an abrupt end. "I'll just expose myself to her more often."

"Expose yourself to her?" Sesshou questioned. "If you think that's going to win girls over, then you do need advice," he commented sardonically.

Hojo couldn't contain his laughter. "Not like that, weirdo," he countered with a grin.

Sesshou ran a hand through his hair, which seemed to be sticking up again. He exhaled. At least Hojo seemed to have crawled out of his dark pit of depression.

"I know! We can all do something together! You, me, Kagome, and Yuka. Then, I won't be as nervous." Hojo beamed.

This friendship thing could really be a hassle, Sesshou thought darkly. However, at the sight of Hojo's pleased expression, he found himself making a sound of agreement.

Hojo, relieved, picked up the book Sesshou had been reading, careful not to dislodge the pen that marked his friend's place. He started to flip through it, tapping a foot to the music that was still playing. "Have you been reading this all morning?" he asked curiously.

Sesshou nodded in affirmation.

"It looks pretty dry," Hojo remarked, before replacing it on the table and leaping to his feet. "You need a break. I have money, I'm hungry, and you're coming with me to eat."

Sesshou hesitated.

Hojo looked at him in disbelief. "Jeez. You have to eat sometime. Mom keeps telling me that you're wasting away. Also, you're a workoholic."

Sesshou blinked. "That's right. I'm addicted to workohol," he replied sarcastically. "You, more than anyone, know that I hardly slave over my schoolwork. Also, your mom thinks that anyone under three hundred pounds is wasting away." Sesshou's mouth quirked up slightly in amusement. "Case in point: your dad. I actually heard her tell him he was `thin as a rail,' the last time I was over."

"Oh, shut up," Hojo said cheerfully. "He just happens to be big-boned." It seemed that almost anything could roll off Hojo's back, especially when he was thinking about food. "You like ramen, right? Oh, you know what would be good? We could get okonomiyaki. . ."

Sesshou rolled his eyes, but smiled faintly and followed Hojo nonetheless.

**********

"Uh, sure?" Kagome replied, having ceased to follow the conversation. She couldn't remember what the question had been. Yuka had been waiting expectantly while she herself had spaced out.

Had there even been a question?

Yuka huffed impatiently. "Well, then, if you like him, make a move! Or you could play it cool. He didn't seem too into that forward girl with the big hair."

"Yeah," Kagome agreed wryly, "if by 'not too into,' you mean he was pretty much willing to gnaw his own leg off to escape from her. But then again, who would like her? She's a bit much."

Kagome heard a world-weary sigh from Yuka's end of the line. "Oh, so young and innocent," she drawled in the most jaded tone Kagome had ever heard. "Obviously, you have never seen what happens when a person is caught in desperation's cruel jaws."

Kagome removed the receiver from her ear and looked at it in disbelief for a moment before replacing it. Yuka sounded like some embittered, cigarette-holder-waving femme fatale with a "buy 9 drinks and get the 10th one free" punch card.

"Uh," Kagome interrupted when it sounded like Yuka was about to sigh again. "Stop that. You're freaking me out."

"Young one, you have so much to learn of the world. . ." The words were sighed heavily. Kagome pictured Yuka blowing a smoke ring and taking a gulp from a highball class before gesturing for another.

"Jeez, Yuka! If I recall correctly, I'm a month older than you!"

Yuka ignored that factual tidbit as usual, to Kagome's amused dismay. What a drama queen.

"Little one, you may take my hand as you make your first naïve steps onto a minefield of losers, carnies, and jedi-wannabes. And no," Yuka announced with a dramatic pause, "suicide is not the answer. . . especially not puddles, as they are too shallow to actually drown in. Koi ponds, however, are a completely different story."

When it appeared that Yuka's informative and uplifting speech was over, Kagome sighed in exasperation. "I really think you should take a break from dating," she advised earnestly. "See what it's doing to you? This can't be healthy."

Yuka made a sound of resigned agreement. "I know, but if I stop now, I'll probably just give up and start getting cats." The statement resounded over the phone lines like a knell of doom.

Kagome pictured Yuka with her hair in a straggly bun and twenty cats, and shuddered. "You won't suddenly become a cat-lady. You just had some bad luck, that's all. One day you'll meet someone."

Yuka perked up. "Someone smart? Someone funny and attractive? Someone who doesn't have a vestigial tail, massive gambling addiction, or grotesque emotional problems that would make Freud curl into a fetal ball?" she asked with exaggerated hopefulness.

"Of course!" Kagome replied evenly, though she was wincing inside.

Who the hell was Yuka meeting these days?

"Well, I still think you should spend some time with Sesshou," Yuka interjected without missing a beat. "We don't all have good-looking overachiever types interested in us. Some of us get Luke."

"Well, I don't really know him, and. . ." Kagome trailed off before continuing. "Both he and I are pretty strange." She almost snorted at the understatement. "You really have nooo idea. Plus," Kagome went on in a reasonable voice, "I have no intention of dating anyone, with my memory issues and all. I feel really unsettled."

"Hm. Right."

Kagome scowled again. Why was Yuka torturing her like this? There was only so much "Hm, right," a girl could take before she went stark raving bonkers! It was cruel and unusual! It was totally uncalled for!

Oh, hell.

Kagome caved under Yuka's highly evolved interrogation tactics. "He does seem like an overachieving type, doesn't he? He's probably good at everything." She bit her lip. "And with looks like that. . . and he's not dumb, or smelly, or irritating. He doesn't have an annoying voice, or a monobrow. He can dress himself. . ."

"Scary, isn't it? Yuka commented sarcastically. "If only we all had your problems." She sighed loudly into the receiver. "Well, in the minus column, he doesn't seem like a heavyweight in the social skills department. And if he's too intimidating, what about Hojo? He's comfy and familiar."

"I dunno." Kagome was quiet for a while. "But then there's me. I've got that. . ."

She'd been about to say something about the time travel her family had been discussing with her, but quickly thought better of it. "Uh, I've got that . . . brain damage," she finished lamely. "And I'm just. . . well, me. You know."

It was hard to casually slip info about fighting demons in the feudal age into a conversation, Kagome noted.

"He seems to like the magical you, though. And about the brain thing, it's not like anything but your memory was affected by that," Yuka continued. "You don't drool. I've checked."

There was a brief silence.

"Hey!"

At Kagome's indignant tone, Yuka laughed. "Anyway, I should get going. I have to get to the store so I can pick something up."

Kagome didn't ask what Yuka would be purchasing, but something the gleeful note in Yuka's voice made Kagome suspect that Lina's hair would be considerably thinner after her next shampoo.

**********

Hanako straightened her braided pigtails as she walked through the aisle of the grocery store, peering closely at the labels of the items on the shelves. The brightly colored packages almost glowed under the aggressive fluorescent lighting. "Uncle, do you think we need-"

She stopped and turned around, only to find that she was talking to thin air. She wasn't in the mood for this, considering she hadn't really had much sleep last night.

Where had he gone? He was so easily distracted. If she had to drag him out of the ramen aisle again, he was going to get an earful.

She charged down the brightly-lit aisle, taking a sharp right at the rack of instant curry mixes, and was brought up short by the sight that greeted her. She shook her head.

He really did need a hobby.

Her companion was staring out the window with almost frightening intensity, peering between two big signs advertising rock-bottom specials on shiitake mushrooms and daikon radishes, respectively.

Following his line of vision, she found that he was watching two men sitting at the window of the okonomiyaki restaurant across the street. "Are you checking that guy out? Honestly! I have to admit that he's completely hot," she said grudgingly. "Can't really blame you there."

Her uncle looked at her with obvious, open-mouthed horror. "WHAT?!?" he practically shouted. "Not you, too!"

An old lady behind him cast a disapproving glance at him before huffing, shoving pickles into her basket, and then moving on with her nose in the air.

Hanako looked at him blankly before snapping to attention. "Oh! It's that Sesshoumaru person, isn't it?" She nudged him aside with her shoulder to get a better view. "Just my luck! I could really go for him. He just looks. . . well, he looks so nice! And, may I add," she murmured as the man got up to call the waitress over, "that that's definitely a good ass to have."

The man at her side looked at her with mingled panic and confusion. "Stop talking about people's asses! Are you sure you're feeling well? I've never heard anyone say he looks `nice' before."

The girl frowned before her expression cleared and she exclaimed, "Oh! You mean, the other one? I'm talking about the happy-looking one. He's cute. The icicle isn't really my style. Something about him just screams, `fun is bad, so I never have it.' Does he have some kind of facial paralysis? He looks like he's watching paint dry."

With a sigh of relief, her shopping companion slumped slightly against the window.

"You really do need a hobby, you know," she muttered before grabbing his sleeve and dragging him down the aisle towards the produce section. The fact that the basket he held was overflowing with Ramen and cookies had not escaped her notice. "All this lurking is even less healthy than your diet. We can't live on instant food and takeout, you know."

"Yeah, well," he muttered, turning his nose up. "If I've survived this long without learning to cook, I say it's a completely useless skill."

**********

When the waitress brought the freshly cooked platter of fragrant, filled pancake to the table, Hojo noted that she was making what could only be called googly-eyes at Sesshou. As always, Sesshou merely nodded dismissively, and then gave her one of his `you are wasting approximately 1 square foot of floor space - begone!' looks when she showed no sign of leaving.

If anything, Hojo noted, this seemed to intensify the googly-factor. Surreptitiously, he pulled a small notepad and pen from his pocket, observing his friend with a keen eye.

Sesshou was still glaring. The look was escalating from `begone' to `Antarctic rays of freezing death.' Hojo rubbed his chin and started jotting brief notes on the paper.

Finally, unable to withstand Sesshou's well-honed skills of people-repulsion, the waitress reluctantly turned and slowly headed back towards the kitchen. Sesshou, with a disgusted sniff, turned to a scribbling Hojo and balked.

"We've known each other since we were children, and I consider you a friend."

Hojo beamed and nodded at that uncharacteristically warm statement, but still didn't look up from his notepad. Quickly, he flipped the page and resumed writing.

"Nevertheless," Sesshou continued darkly, "if you don't stop that, I will be forced to kill you."

Hojo stopped and sighed, placing his notebook and pen on the paper on the wobbly, melamine-topped table between them with a resigned look. "I'm just trying to figure out your secret. Why do the girls flock to you? I mean, it's really kind of unfair. You're so mean to them, and yet they flutter like doomed moths." Hojo wrinkled his nose a little as Sesshou confiscated the notepad and tossed it into a neighboring, unhealthy-looking yucca plant. "Hey! That had my grocery list in it!"

"I'm sure you'll survive," Sesshou commented dryly. "You can get it back after we're done, and you've promised to lay off the naturalistic observation."

Hojo grumbled under his breath and picked up his chopsticks, snapping them apart and rubbing them together to rid them of the splinters. "Yeah, whatever. I think the world wants to know. It's so weird! When we were in school, you totally ignored all the girls who liked you. It didn't seem to matter though. I heard that you had so many girls making you lunches that you could've started a catering table."

Sesshou frowned. "I did nothing to encourage it. They were just idiots who didn't know anything about me. I had my own lunch. It was wasteful and unnecessary." He shrugged slightly and took a bite of their king-sized okonomiyaki. It was very good, despite the fact that the restaurant itself looked rather dilapidated. Bits of linoleum curled up at the edges, and the tables were scarred from years of brisk business.

The fact that the waitress was hovering nearby in the hopes that they would need their tea refilled was not lost on Hojo.

Hojo snickered. "See? You're snobby and weird, and often like a grumpy old man. I totally don't get it." He made a snorting sound. "You don't have time for anybody. `No man is an island,' huh? Donne obviously never met anyone like you. You're not just any island, either. You kind of remind me of Alcatraz." Hojo took another bite and chewed blissfully before swallowing and gesticulating with his chopsticks. "If I weren't excessively friendly, thick-skinned, and apparently masochistic, you probably would never have bothered to make any friends at all. What on earth is it about you that makes the girls swoon?"

Sesshou made a noncommittal noise. "I'm not quite sure. I've never been able to understand why a person would chase after someone they know nothing about."

The sharp, meaningful look Sesshou was sending Hojo did not go unnoticed.

"Hey. I know Higurashi," Hojo replied defensively. He laid his chopsticks down and leaned forward. "I went to school with her for years. She's really sweet, even if she wasn't around a lot because of her health and stuff."

"Hm," was Sesshou's only response.

Hojo frowned and dug into his food with renewed appetite. "Are you trying to warn me away or something? Did you find out something awful about her?"

Sesshou raised an eyebrow. "No. I'm just saying that you've liked her for so long that you may not have a balanced view of her."

Hojo swallowed. The waitress bustled over again, with the teapot. She quickly retreated at Sesshou's annoyed look.

"Look," Hojo began. "I know you don't like many people." He paused. "Okay, you don't like any people. I don't expect you to like her, but I do, so could you please just give her a chance? You don't have to love her or anything. Just tolerate her and cut the glare ratio by 50%. That's all I'm asking."

Hojo could tell by the pissy look on his friend's face that he was not pleased at the request. But, by god, if he wasn't nice to her, Hojo was totally going to go medieval on his ass. His wrath was fearsome, though he rarely exercised it.

"Yep," Hojo said in a tone of steel he seldom used. "You're going to at least try to be nice."

Sesshou started chewing on the okonomiyaki in a particularly bloodthirsty way. It seemed that the aura of pissiness surrounding him was strong enough to keep even the enraptured waitress at a safe distance.

"Well," Hojo gulped. "Maybe nice isn't the word. Just try not to terrify her okay? While you were getting ready to leave your house earlier, I called Yuka's place. We're going for coffee with her and Kagome later!"

Sesshou scowled.

"Remember? Earlier you said you would hang out with us, so I wouldn't get so nervous. Please?" Hojo winced at the pleading note in his voice. "I'd really like to interact with her in a non-dorky way for once! I mean, maybe she would like me if I didn't act like such a spacey tool."

Sesshou's glower intensified.

Hojo made an unhappy noise, dropped his chopsticks and pressed his forehead into his hand. Sesshou hadn't looked this irritated since his dearly departed mother had forced him to accompany Hojo to Haruka's ballet recital. When they had gone backstage to wish her luck, the pale-haired boy had been dog-piled by a large group of preteen wannabe-ballerinas in frilly pink tutus.

Now that Hojo thought about it, having a pissed-off Sesshou and Kagome in the same room was going to do nothing for his nervous babbling and sweating issues.

**********

Oh, gods, no. She felt like she was going to break out in a sweat.

Kagome gaped in open-mouthed disbelief. "WHAT!?!?!?"

Souta's head snapped up so quickly at her shout that Kagome thought he must have gotten whiplash. He muttered something about crazed, high-strung siblings interrupting PlayStation concentration under his breath, and then settled back into the couch, retrieving the controller that had gone airborne at his sister's unexpected outburst.

She patted his head apologetically, clutched the cordless phone with white fingers, and beat a hasty retreat to her room.

"You WHAT?!?" Kagome repeated at a lower volume once she the door was safely closed.

"Hojo phoned my house. I told him we're meeting him and Sesshou for coffee later tonight."

"Yuka how could you say I'd go without even asking me?" Kagome moaned as she sat down at her desk and slumped forward. "I can't even look at Sesshou right now. I swear, I'm going to die."

Yuka grunted indelicately. "I've already said yes, so have your attack of the vapors now and get it over with. You have a few hours before we leave. Like it or not, we have plans. And don't even think about being in your pajamas when I get to your house. I'll drag you out even if you've got an exfoliating mask on. Also," Yuka added slyly, "I kind of have a date tonight. I'll be leaving about half an hour after we meet them. Hope you don't mind!"

Kagome's fingers clenched. It suddenly seemed like an amazing stroke of luck that she had considerable skill in the martial arts.

"Yuuuuuka," she purred dangerously. "You are going to be meeting so many eligible doctors in the very near future. They can write their phone numbers on your full-body cast - after I've beaten you within an inch of your life!"

"All righty then!" Yuka chirped obnoxiously, apparently unconcerned about her impending appointment with Kagome's fists. "I'll catch you later! Be ready to go at eight-ish."

"But-" Kagome's forehead hit the desk with a quiet thud when she heard the `end' beep of Yuka's cell-phone. She remained that way for a few minutes, feeling completely exhausted. Dealing with lunatics did that to a person, Kagome thought darkly.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, sitting up and raising a hand to massage the back of her neck. Yuka was stressing her out. She could have sworn she didn't have that knot 5 minutes ago.

"Hey!" Souta beamed at Kagome. Obviously, he had gotten over the game loss he'd incurred after she had shrieked and caused his controller to go flying. He bounced up and down slightly. "Are you busy right now?"

Hm. This, she thought, was a little on the suspicious side.

Kagome cocked an eyebrow and shook her head. "No. That doesn't mean I'm going to do your chores for you, though, so don't even ask!"

Souta scowled. "I wasn't going to ask you to! Really. I mean, not today. I was just thinking, you got into that fight a couple of days ago, right? And you have all these abilities, but you were always over on the other side of the well, and I just. . ."

Kagome looked at Souta in amusement. "You want to see my moves? Well, I don't know. I tried before to do it again, but I guess it was just instinct that night." She bit her lip at his downcast expression. "But, maybe we could go into the courtyard and give it a try-"

She almost fell over as Souta grabbed her arm and practically dragged her down the stairs and out the front door.

"Ow!" Kagome whimpered as she stubbed her toe. "At least turn on the porch-light. It's getting dark out here!"

**********

It was dark, but then it always was.

The creature had been in the dark so long that time meant nothing. It had only the barest grasp of how many years had gone by. It only knew that, a long time ago, everything had been different.

It had been powerful.

It had had plans for a glorious conclusion to everything. When the moment had come, it had only found that time had stopped.

Being in the world had been different, then. Earth had crumbled in its hands. Flesh had caved beneath its touch.

When it had reached out, the world had moved.

Now, it was dark, cold, and constantly out of phase. What had once been hands faded through matter, and what had been a mind had gradually filled with madness and blind hunger. When things had been different, and it had had form, it had been jealous and ambitious. It had struggled to achieve a purpose, and to fill the constant hunger.

It had to consume. It had to be transform itself into something stronger, something better.

Events hadn't cooperated, however. It was what it had been, low and crawling. Perhaps it was even lower now than it ever had been. At one time, it had been human.

Then, it had become something else, and now, starvation led to a different sort of transformation.

Others had gotten in the way.

They had thought themselves rid of it.

A very long time ago, it had tried to suck what it needed from the world. Now, it could not do much. When it had first been cast down, it had tried to make the earth feel its weight again. There had been some success, but small successes were meaningless. The span of time was too great, as was the gulf between this existence and the one it had had before. This world was muddied, covered in a shroud through which the creature could not see.

Now, it curled beneath concrete. Now it hid itself in trees.

It faded into the earth, and was spit back out. In the cold of the night, and in the ice of time, it twisted.

It stilled now, as something flickered in the distance.

Was this what hunger was? Old strength, long believed lost, bled back into its awareness. It moved blindly, led only by a shadow of memory that forced the other shadows aside.

It had felt this recently. Had it been only days? It had been lost for so long, but yes. Days ago, it had felt this, and it had followed the lingering trace of it, through earth and stone. It had seen, though seeing was unnecessary.

It remembered this power.

It could only be HER.

If the creature's strength had not been consumed completely by its mindless writhing, it would have hissed.

**********

Souta shivered, wide-eyed, as the glow around Kagome's body faded.

"Whoa," he said in a hushed, dazed voice. "That's insane! Let me find you some more!"

Kagome shook her arm out, perusing the pile of shattered lumber with satisfaction. "Okay," she said thoughtfully. "I just have to remember how it feels. Kind of fuzzy, like static cling." She closed her eyes and focused her mind. When she opened them again, she looked down and was pleased to find that she was casting a faint light on the darkening pavement.

Souta was fairly twitching to run off and find more planks. They had extra lying around from when Grandpa had decided to repair the storehouse. He was really paranoid about what he liked to call `the family treasures,' and what Souta liked to call `unidentifiable, organic objects in jars.' He had the sneaking suspicion that, if he looked around in there long enough, he might find a human brain.

"No more destruction!" Kagome exclaimed nervously. "First of all, we have to clean this stuff up. Mama will be annoyed if I just leave the courtyard littered with splinters. Then I have to try and get some homework done."

Souta sighed, but went to the shed to get a broom anyway. Kagome came along and pulled their old wheelbarrow into reluctant service. "Sure," he grumped as they started to clear the debris. "When you need me to get your assignments for you because you're in the feudal age, that's no problem at all! But then when I want you to do one little thing, like show me some magical kung-fu, you're SO BUSY."

Kagome rolled her eyes. "Yeah, maybe when I can actually recall how I did things, I'll do a big demonstration for you. By kicking your butt!"

Souta sniffed, crossed his arms, and turned his nose up. "You're so immature, tumor-girl."

The creaking of the wheelbarrow ceased.

Silence reigned, broken only by the chirp of a lone cricket.

"WHAT did you just CALL ME?!?"

With a startled yelp, Souta dropped the dustpan and sprinted for the house, waving the broom around behind him defensively as he choked back his laughter.

It looked like Kagome was about to make time for another demonstration after all.

**********

Sesshou arrived on the scene only a few minutes after Hojo did. When he walked into the warmth of the café, he saw that the other boy had already appropriated his favorite booth in the corner by the window. The coffee shop was a sort of neighborhood establishment, and was close enough to his place that it was stupid to do anything but walk. The shop strove for comfort rather than pretentiousness. The seating was plush, and a pool table was near the back wall with a big Wurlitzer nearby.

Hojo came here a lot. It seemed like he was already through his first cup of coffee, as well.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Sesshou asked, gesturing towards the rather large, half-empty cup.

Hojo shifted nervously in his seat as Sesshou sat down with his own drink. The dark haired man pushed the sleeves of his navy blue sweater up his forearms. He smiled sheepishly. "I thought if I occupied my mouth with coffee, it would significantly reduce my babbling abilities."

Skepticism radiated from Sesshou's every pore. "It's a stimulant. Don't say I didn't warn you." He paused and regarded Hojo in silence for long seconds. "Nice sweater," he remarked ironically. "I hope you didn't buy that."

A slight frown crossed Hojo's face. "I know it's ugly, but I put everything in the wash this morning, so I had to dig into the dreaded drawer of fashion mistakes." Hojo twitched slightly and took another sip of coffee.

Oh no, Sesshou thought as he noticed the small movement. The horror had begun.

"It was either this sweater, which Grandma made, or a terrifying Christmas shirt with reindeer on it. After she went to visit Haruka and her husband in America for Christmas, it was like she came back filled with pure evil. After that eyesore, I really appreciated the restraint she exercised when she gave me this."

Sesshou eyed the sweater critically. "Are you sure you chose the right shirt? The sweater's really. . . lumpy."

"Ohhh, trust me on this one. The Christmas shirt has blinking lights," Hojo said decisively. "Plus, the reindeer are really abnormal-looking. They look like wiener-dogs. All in all, that garment should not exist in this or any other dimension." With that, the dark-haired young man drained his coffee cup and returned to the coffee bar to get a refill, as a flicker of movement outside the window caught Sesshou's eye.

**********

Yuka dragged Kagome ruthlessly towards the entrance of the café.

"Come on!" she griped. "I don't have time to haul you everywhere, young lady. We're already late because you HAD to push me on that pajama and face-mask issue. Look. I'm sorry I said you would come, but the damage is done. I didn't think you'd have this much of a problem with it."

Kagome scowled rebelliously and wiped a remnant of Avocado and Elderflower Clarifying Masque from her neck.

Yuka had stormed Kagome's room when Kagome had answered the door wearing pink pajamas and an obstinate expression. Everything afterwards had been a blur. Now, all Kagome knew was that she was freshly scrubbed, dressed for casual fun, and being frog-marched down the street.

Just three minutes prior, she had been in her pajamas and a robe, tightening her pores and settling in to watch a stunningly mediocre made-for-TV movie called "Tears of a Swan: A Tragic Figure Skating Story."

Now, she was going to be forced to have coffee with a guy she had bonded with over ass-kicking, and also had a naughty, naked, sweaty dream about.

His friend, who still seemed to like her, would also be in attendance.

How had things come to this point? Kagome looked accusingly at the sky, trying to find meaning in a world that suddenly made no sense.

Her life totally sucked.

"Welcome to hell," Kagome mumbled as Yuka opened the door of the café and ushered her inside. "Population: me."

Yuka snorted, as a smile made its way across her face and she waved at Sesshou. "Has anyone ever told you that, in some respects, you are very immature?" she hissed between her teeth.

Kagome grunted sullenly. "Sure. Then, he called me `tumor-girl,' completely destroying any credibility he had."

Yuka didn't dignify that with a reply.

Seeing their approach, Sesshou nodded slightly, and looked at Kagome. She stared at him for a moment, immediately turned red, and then tried to turn and walk away. Unfortunately, Yuka's iron grip prevented her escape.

If Yuka didn't take up nursing or professional mourning, Kagome thought bleakly, perhaps she could find her niche in the field of criminal detention.

As Kagome was occupied with uncharitable thoughts and avoiding Sesshou's eyes, Yuka shoved her towards the booth, released her once it became clear that bolting would not be an issue, and then approached the bar to order their beverages and say hello to Hojo. Kagome settled into the seat, and looked around the café more out of awkwardness than genuine curiosity. It was actually a nice place. If it weren't for the fact that tonight was going to be excruciating, she would probably like it there.

She sighed loudly. Oh well, she might as well bite the bullet and say hello. She peered over her shoulder at where Yuka and Hojo were waiting for their lattes. Hojo waved. Kagome smiled, returned the gesture, and then turned back, leaning across the table slightly.

"Hi," she greeted in a low voice, steeling herself enough to look him in the face. "How are you?"

"Fine," he replied. Sesshou's scrutiny intensified to such a degree that Kagome felt like she wanted to hide. "What's wrong with you?" he asked abruptly.

She could feel the flush crawling up her neck. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, though the contact was so electric that it almost hurt. Her hands folded tightly in front of her as she let out a nervous laugh, and turned to stare out the window in hopes of a reprieve.

"Um, nothing! What do you mean? Am I acting strangely or something?" Kagome's eyes were wide with dismay at the question, and a false, vacant smile was plastered over her face. He knew! He knew!

Sesshou looked incredulous. "Point one: you're bright red. Point two: you keep staring out the window with a look of doomed hope on your face. Point three," he fell silent. Kagome blinked, turned her head to look at him, and watched him warily.

Suddenly, Sesshou leaned forward. "BOO!"

Kagome jumped two feet in the air with a choked yelp of terror.

Sesshou leaned back smirked. "I rest my case."

Kagome sputtered and slapped her palms down on the table. She rose from her seat slightly, nervousness fading. "You. . ." she trailed off, glaring. "I can't believe. . . That was MEAN!"

At that second, Hojo materialized at the table with Yuka in tow, causing Kagome to fall back into her seat with a "Hmph!" of indignation.

Hojo sat down next to Sesshou, and Yuka slid in on Kagome's side, sliding a half-sweet caramel latte in front of her. With a grateful look, Kagome put her cold hands around the cup and sipped, hiding her face from Sesshou.

Hojo frowned at his friend, taking in Kagome's frazzled appearance. "Hey Kagome, what's new?"

Kagome choked out a feeble, "Not much, how're you?" before hiding behind her mug once more.

Hojo twitched slightly, spotting her complete refusal to even turn her head in Sesshou's direction. What on earth had happened? She'd been here for thirty seconds! Damn it! Sesshou had promised he'd be nice!

Well, Hojo amended, he had implied that he would be nice.

All right. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he hadn't said he wouldn't be nice, thereby allowing Hojo to think that niceness was not completely out of the question.

Hojo poked Sesshou in the ribs with his elbow, and received a look of outraged dignity in return. "If this guy's being mean, don't take it personally. He's just hard to get to know. Pure snobby evil, some might say. I'm used to him, though. He grows on a person."

Sesshou was making his disgust at Hojo's excuses plainly evident. The sight of the silver-haired man glaring murderously at the side of Hojo's head, as the brunet obliviously patted him on the back with a huge grin, was actually rather funny.

Yuka swooped in to save the day. "So Sesshou, you and Hojo didn't go to high school together, did you?"

Glaring at a person who wasn't facing you really wasn't very effective, Sesshou thought to himself. Sending one last look of death at Hojo's ear, Sesshou allowed himself to be distracted, and shook his head slightly. "No. We went to the same elementary school and junior high, though."

When it became evident that Sesshou was not going to say any more, Hojo jumped in. "Yeah. I lived next door to Sesshou until a year ago, so we've known each other for ages."

"So he grew on you, huh?" Kagome asked, turning to Hojo. "Would you say it was a moldy sort of growing, or a lichen type? Perhaps if you bathed in an anti-fungal agent, you could get rid of that little problem you have." Her helpful comments were immediately followed by Hojo's high-pitched yelp as Yuka delivered a kick beneath the table.

Yuka looked at Hojo apologetically. "Sorry. I was aiming for her," she said with slight embarrassment, jerking her thumb to the side to indicate the inexplicably pissed-off girl next to her. A split-second later, Kagome let out an injured yelp, as Yuka sat back with a look of accomplishment on her face.

Sesshou gave up on choosing someone to glower at, and settled on a more global disapproval approach. "I am surrounded by children," he said coolly as he sipped from his cup.

"Yeah, right." Kagome crossed her arms. "Who's the one who yelled `BOO' at me just a little while ago?"

Sesshou ignored her.

Hojo gulped the last of his coffee. Sesshou had yelled `BOO' at Kagome? When had THAT happened, and why were they practically spitting at each other? He'd never seen Kagome get mad at anyone before. He'd actually thought that, if faced with Sesshou's irritation, she would clam up and be scared away like so many others were.

Instead, she was on the verge of yelling at him. It was all very strange and off-putting, and Hojo sort of felt like he'd walked into a movie partway through. A really violent movie - Yuka's feet were sort of dangerous.

Hojo was getting a headache. More coffee might help. Ignoring Sesshou's warning look, Hojo got up without a word, and returned to the coffee bar for a refill.

When he returned, the animosity at the table seemed to have dissipated a little. He took a sip from his coffee, and then turned to Kagome. "So are you completely recovered now? I'm glad to hear from Yuka that you haven't been in the hospital for a while."

Kagome's blush, which had faded, rapidly returned as she remembered the years of lies that had been fed to Yuka and Hojo. She couldn't help but feel guilty for duping them for so long.

Yuka, watching Kagome, was convinced that Kagome was feeling sensitive about her long illness. She always seemed to get touchy about it.

Sesshou, however, had different theories.

"So," he began with dangerous curiosity.

Hojo blinked at his friend's tone. Uh oh. This couldn't be good.

"What sort of illness did you have exactly?" Those amber eyes scrutinized Kagome's face, seeming to miss nothing. Kagome quailed.

Yuka's interrogation skills were nothing compared to this. If Kagome were a suspect in a murder case, this would be the point where she was looking longingly at the jug of water kept out of her reach, while a grimy looking man with five o'clock shadow told her he had ways of making her talk.

Sesshou looked at the fierce grip Kagome had on the handle of her coffee mug, noticing some sort of odd mark on her palm. He filed that tidbit away for later scrutiny.

Kagome didn't say anything, certain that he'd be able to tell if she lied. He probably could already tell that something was up, considering her rather limited lying skills. This disease thing was Grandpa's department, not hers! Sesshou already knew that she wasn't normal, but she wasn't sure she wanted him to know that she had jumped back and forth from now to the feudal age.

Luckily, Hojo leapt in to rescue her. Kagome had never been so grateful for Hojo's fixation on her health than she was at that moment.

"She's been really unlucky. There was the diabetes, and a very rare seizure disorder that is mostly found in the Amazon region. Oh yeah!" Hojo turned to Kagome, obviously trying to remember the extensive catalogue of ailments that her grandfather had given him. "A while ago you had malaria. And there was also the broken hip." Hojo shook his head sympathetically. "There were other things, but I can't remember off-hand. As I recall, you had a kidney failure when we were in high school, didn't you? And then there was the brain tumor that kept you away for almost two years. But let's not talk about this anymore, I bet you just want to forget about it all."

Sesshou, throughout this litany of maladies, showed no reaction. He merely looked levelly at Kagome. She blinked, and then narrowed her eyes at him, setting her jaw firmly and then crossing her arms over her chest.

Interesting.

"Hn," he remarked, turning his attention to his beverage to make it clear that he would leave the topic alone for the moment.

Well, Kagome thought to herself, she certainly seemed to have gotten all the blushing and embarrassment out of the way.

She was annoyed at Yuka for dragging her into this. She was annoyed at Sesshou for putting her on the spot regarding her fictional diseases, and for being in her dream. She was even annoyed at Hojo for trying to defend her when she was a big fat liar who didn't deserve it at all.

Damn it! She was annoyed at the world, and the world was going to pay!

Yuka, feeling a shift in the wind, checked her watch. "Hey guys! I've got to get going. I'll talk to you all later! Wish me luck!"

The short-haired girl winced as a sweet smile curved her friend's lips. "I hope your date goes as well as your last one did," Kagome said slowly, causing Yuka's blood to run cold at the sheer cruelty.

"Tumor-girl!" Yuka accused, before practically running for the door.

Sesshou and Hojo both wondered what had caused Yuka's strange outburst, and excessively quick exit.

**********

The creature moved quickly, following the fading trail of power. It was funny, how it sparkled and shone, winding in a gleaming road where she had gone.

Slugs left shining trails as well, it knew. They drew themselves along on the ground, dragging on their bellies so slowly that time stopped for them. They left shining pieces of themselves behind.

The creature understood slugs, but it did not understand HER.

It looked through the window. She would not see it, because no one did.

Windows were different now. They were smooth and hard, like ice refined a thousand times. As the creature looked through the window at the girl, she seemed to make everything around her sharp once again. Yes, things were brighter and more distinct. She was definitely the one.

She was smiling. Near her, it saw two others. One of them was familiar, but unimportant.

She was in a warm place, a place where people gathered. It could not go there. It would only be able to approach when she was between such places, just like the creature was between places. It faded into a crack in the pavement.

It had no problems waiting.

**********

"Yuka doesn't have time to help me very often. She's working too. When I went to the peer tutoring office, I found out they are all booked as well." Kagome wrapped her hands around her coffee cup with a frown.

Sesshou looked thoughtful.

Hojo nodded energetically in sympathy. "Yeah, this time of year everyone's bogged down." His expression brightened. "Hey, what course is it? Maybe I can help you. I wouldn't mind, and I have some time." Kagome was amused at the strange, twitchy way Hojo was moving. He was practically bouncing up and down in his seat.

"Um, it's first year calculus." Kagome made a face. "That's what I get for starting late. Blechh." She checked her watch. "Oh, just a sec. I should go call my house and let them know where I am. Yuka just kind of dragged me away."

Sesshou watched silently as Kagome walked to the payphone near the counter.

"Calculus? Damn. I didn't take that," Hojo commented thoughtfully. Sesshou noticed that Hojo was starting to twitch a little more frequently.

With a look of dawning realization, Hojo turned to Sesshou.

"Hey, you did a lot of the core math courses."

Sesshou inclined his head slightly in response.

"Do you think you could help her?" Hojo asked hopefully. Sesshou merely looked at him in that inscrutable way he had. "For me? I mean, it would be pretty easy for you, and you live in the neighborhood. Maybe you don't get along very well, but she really-"

Hojo's mouth fell open as Sesshou inclined his head again slightly. Then, Hojo grinned widely - very widely, as caffeine had started to exaggerate all his motor operations. He was pleased, impressed, and more than a little touched. Sesshou really was taking this whole `being nice' thing to heretofore unheard-of heights! What a guy.

Sesshou looked more closely at Hojo and was disturbed by the glassy, twitchy set to his eyes. "Hey."

Twitch. Twitch.

Hojo's hand curled protectively around his recently refilled coffee cup. "What?" He asked defensively, looking from side to side as though he was about to be apprehended by the law. "What? What is it? What's bothering you, Sesshou?"

The pale-haired man rolled his eyes. "Oh, gods. How many cups of that stuff have you had?"

Hojo raised the cup to his lips and took a drink, looking intensely guilty. "Mmebyevn?"

Sesshou's eyes narrowed dangerously. "How many have you had?"

The dark haired boy laughed. It was not a good sound. "HEE! I mean, maybe seven? Or nine? But who counts these things, anyway? Don't you think that our current fixation on numbers and figures is a true indictment of the state of society today? Why must everything be quantified and analyzed? Can't a young and upstanding young man just drink as much coffee as he likes, without being subjected to what I think we could all agree is the third degree and should only be reserved for those of the criminal persuasion?" Hojo laughed again, nervously, and took another sip of coffee before setting it back onto the table.

Reaching out, Sesshou took firm hold of the cup and slowly drew it away from Hojo. "No more. You've been cut off." Silently, he cursed himself. If he'd been paying more attention, he would have caught more of the warning signs.

Unfortunately, the process of removing the coffee from Hojo's possession did not go as smoothly as Sesshou could have wished.

"NOOO!" Hojo protested loudly. His grip on the cup tightened as he attempted to fight the confiscation. "You will have to pry my sweet coffee from my cold, dead fingers!"

When Kagome sat back down, it was to the rather confusing sight of Sesshou and Hojo fighting over what appeared to be Hojo's cup of coffee.

"You can't take it from me, you bastard!" Hojo exclaimed, holding onto the handle of the mug with one shaking hand as he swatted at Sesshou's head with the other. "I won't let you!"

"Um. . ." Kagome reluctantly interjected. "What's going on?"

Heaving a sigh, Sesshou explained. "Hojo's had too much coffee. I can't let him have any more. I've seen how he gets."

As Sesshou was saying this, Hojo continued to swat ineffectually at the taller boy's head, leaving Sesshou in the undignified position of having to fend off the glancing blows with one hand as he pulled at the mug with the other. Kagome just watched, stunned into silence.

Swat. Swat.

"Oh, hi Kagome!" Hojo beamed at her from amidst the confusion. "Sesshou said he could tutor you if you want. He's being really nice tonight! It's sort of weird. Just a sec."

Hojo stopped speaking momentarily so he could pool his concentration. As a result, he landed a slap on Sesshou's ear. He crowed in triumph.

Sesshou scowled, gave up on blocking for a moment, and then smacked Hojo upside the head.

"OW!" Hojo winced, and then gave in. "Fine. You can have my coffee - but I'm not going to forget this, and you. Will. Pay."

Kagome quickly hid her smile behind her hand.

A quirk of an eyebrow was all the response Sesshou gave. He quickly removed the cup from Hojo's reach, and leaned back against the upholstery in relief.

"Anyway," Hojo continued without missing a beat. "Kagome. Sesshou can tutor you if you want. It's really amazing. He never helps anyone! Well, he likes me, but in general he's really misanthropic." Hojo's brow wrinkled slightly as he drummed his fingers on the table. "Maybe misanthropic isn't the best word, because he really doesn't like many plants or animals either. He just really doesn't like much of anything, but that's okay. It's like, part of his charm."

Kagome looked at Sesshou, who wasn't looking very charming at the moment. "Are you sure he likes you, Hojo? Because he kind of has this look to him, like he might try to bite you at any second."

Hojo blinked. Usually people couldn't tell when Sesshou was in the beginning stages of irritation. It was, after all, hard to read someone who had two facial expressions, and three on holidays. Most couldn't figure out that Sesshou was getting ticked off until it was far too late, but Kagome could.

That was kind of odd.

"Yeah! He gets like that when I annoy him! It's hilarious, isn't it? He goes all `grrrr, begone, hapless peon.' I mean, okay. Let me try this." Hojo poked Sesshou in the ribs.

Sesshou looked down his nose at Hojo.

Hojo poked him again.

Sesshou started to glare.

Hojo poked him again.

Before Kagome could blink, Sesshou grabbed Hojo's wrist, and in the iciest voice she had ever heard stated, "Stop or die."

Hojo beamed at Kagome, who was trying not to laugh. "See? Isn't that WICKED?"

Sesshou still had a shred of dignity remaining, so he ignored the sudden urge he had to bash his head against the wall. "I repeat," he said coolly, "I am surrounded by children."

Kagome smiled. "So, is Hojo always like this after he's had coffee?"

Sesshou looked to his left. It appeared that the subject of the question was no longer paying attention. Instead, he seemed to be bouncing around and trying to read the jukebox listings over a 20- foot distance.

"Yeah, after as much as he's had tonight." Sesshou shook his head. "He really shouldn't be allowed to drink the stuff. It's like ADHD gone horribly wrong. He loves coffee though."

At the name of his favorite drink, Hojo snapped back to attention. "I love coffee! It's my only recreational drug. I mean, except for that one time, but someone slipped that in my drink, I swear! I think it was Haruka. No one else would be mean enough to do that to me at my aunt's wedding. Boy, was that embarrassing! I mean, I can't even count the number of times my relatives showed the photos around. It's humiliating!"

Sesshou raised an eyebrow at Kagome, who was watching Hojo's renewed twitching with an expression of horrified fascination. Slowly, so as to avoid drawing attention to the movement, Kagome moved the confiscated coffee cup farther out of Hojo's reach.

"I think it's time for us to go," Sesshou pronounced as Hojo opened his mouth again.

"Aww, but. . ." Hojo trailed off and looked longingly back towards the coffee bar.

"Agreed!" Kagome interjected hurriedly.

**********

Both Kagome and Sesshou intended to walk home, since the café was in their neighborhood, and the train station was also on the way, so Hojo walked with them.

The three of them hadn't even gone a block when Kagome felt a strange chill.

She stopped walking and looked around. Sesshou, tugging Hojo to a halt, looked at Kagome with questioning eyes.

"Did you feel that?" she whispered. Something told her that there was another presence here, but she couldn't see anything. She could just feel it, a heavy stillness. She knew this feeling. "Something's here."

"What is it, you guys?" Hojo called. "Are we going to go do something else now?"

"I don't feel anything," Sesshou replied.

Then, Sesshou saw it. Kagome noticed a moment later.

Shadows on the concrete were moving, but nothing else nearby was.

**********

Hojo couldn't figure out what was going on. One second, they had been walking. The next, they had stopped for no apparent reason. Now, both Sesshou and Kagome were staring at the pavement.

Seriously, what the hell was going on?

"Uh, guys, what the hell is going on?" he asked.

They looked worried.

Had someone littered or something? People were such pigs sometimes!

Suddenly, there seemed to be a pool of black on the ground that hadn't been there before, and Hojo was pretty sure it wasn't litter.

It was moving.

"What the FUCK!" he yelled in disbelief, still tense from his caffeine overload. When he looked up again, his eyes widened at the sight before him

"What the FUCK!" he repeated.

Kagome was glowing purple, and Sesshou had these red stripes on his face. At Hojo's exclamation, the pale-haired man looked up.

Hojo yelped. His eyes were yellow!

"Hojo," Sesshou began quietly. It was a relief that he still sounded like Sesshou.

Hojo's relief faded at his friend's next word.

"Run."

**********

Something was wrong.

Obviously, this situation was very strange and bizarre. Shadows were rolling around on the ground for no apparent reason.

However, Kagome had a feeling in her bones. This was all wrong. She knew who this was, but couldn't remember.

Or, more accurately she knew what this was.

It was here for her.

Kagome was already in a defensive stance, banking power in muscle and bone, but she wasn't prepared for what happened next. In a split second, the mass of shadows unfurled into a vague human shape, and then dove at her.

**********

Sesshou's senses weren't telling him anything.

He could smell everything, and see everything around them, but he had had no sense of someone's presence. He could see the shadows, the form the thing was taking, but it was blurry and indistinct to his eyes.

He lacked the predator's awareness that he had in his dreams, and back in the construction site.

Whatever this was, it was fleshless and scentless. It didn't quite exist, and he doubted that it could be attacked physically.

But whatever it was, it was attacking Kagome, and he could do nothing. Streaks of black bled from where the thing had flung itself upon her, surrounding her and moving like snakes over her skin. Luckily, it seemed that she had thrown up a shield of some kind. She stood firmly, fists clenched, though her eyes were wide with fear and shock.

Sesshou heard a muffled, hissing sound. The light spilling from Kagome's form intensified, and then he thought he heard an animal howl.

Then, the darkness was cast out of her, faded back into the cement in fragments, and then started to collect once more. Sesshou's eyes followed the darkness as he caught Kagome's slumping body.

Suddenly, as though it had made a decision, the mass began to move, sliding away from them over concrete like slick, black oil.

"Shit," Sesshou cursed. "Hojo."

Kagome met his eyes. "Meet you there. You're faster than I am, especially right now."

Sesshou made a sound of dismissal, tossed Kagome over his shoulder, and followed the trail of black so quickly that light from the streetlamps didn't even strike them.

**********

Hojo was going back.

It didn't matter that they were weird.

They were his friends! He couldn't just run away and leave them with the weird shadowy things on the ground.

It wasn't right.

Besides, what if this was a job for overly caffeinated guy? Sure, perhaps Kagome and Sesshou could deal with it by glowing or looking stripy and evil, but what if they couldn't?

Hojo was walking back in the direction he had come from, and watching the pavement very carefully, given recent events. When he saw the shadow heading for him, his eyes snapped wide.

"Oh nonononono! This is way too creepy for me!" he exclaimed, panicking.

When he looked up, he saw Sesshou streaking towards him with a rather irate-looking Kagome draped over his shoulder.

Hojo shook his head slightly. Couldn't they just get along for one second? Was that really too much to-

Then, something struck his chest.

Hojo felt freezing rope sliding over his skin, and then he was locked away to watch from afar.

**********

Shit.

Kneeling on the concrete, Sesshou angrily watched as the blackness sank slowly into Hojo's body. His hands brushed right through it. It seemed that he couldn't do anything but wait.

Oh, no. The pounding of a small fist on his chest reminded him that he still had yet to release his hold on Kagome.

"Shit!" she whispered, taking in Hojo's condition. The blackness was almost completely absorbed. She reached out, following her instinct. Perhaps if she could try using her strength to kick it out of Hojo, she could-

Hojo sat up, eyes blinking open. He shook his head slightly, pressing his hands to his forehead.

Sesshou looked at him closely. "Hojo? Hojo, are you all right?"

When Hojo's head tilted back enough to see his eyes, Sesshou's stomach twisted.

The eyes were black, seething with hate and centuries of pain.

It wasn't Hojo.

The thing that occupied Hojo tilted its head slightly and made a strange hissing noise. It coughed, and when it started to speak, it sounded like it hadn't done so for centuries.

"S--" It paused, as though trying to remember a name. "Sesshoumaru," it said, inclining its head with mocking deference.

Then, it turned to Kagome, and she moved backwards at the force of emotion in those eyes.

"And YOU."

Hojo's body got clumsily to its feet. "It is strange, to have flesh again," it said in its rough voice.

"Don't get used to it," Kagome retorted. "It's not yours." Her voice was brave, but she couldn't prevent herself from taking another step backwards as it approached.

The thing laughed, and the sound was like stones on a grave. "You, who took everything - you dare to say such a thing. I followed you. You leave your trail, like slime. This light you give. It disgusts me. I followed you, and it seems I am not the only one." Its eyes bored into Sesshou's for a moment. "The Western Lord, brought low. And, now, I as well. Low, crawling."

Hojo's hand reached out as though to touch Kagome, and Sesshou seized its wrist before it could make contact.

It hissed again. "I cannot hold the flesh for too long. I have not the strength, but soon. . ."

It trailed off, eyes narrowing, voice roughening into a death-rattle.

"I want it. I want it back."

With that, a flood of black, like a flurry of soundless leaves, burst forth from Hojo's mouth.

His body collapsed limply. Sesshou caught him by the front of his sweater before he managed to get a hold on his waist, lowering his friend slowly.

Then, Sesshou looked down at his hand in dismay.

Oops. He hadn't intended to produce any poison. It seemed that trace amounts had come out when he was worked up earlier. He eyed the front of Hojo's sweater with a glimmer of guilt. Well, he thought wryly. At least it was ugly to begin with. Hojo's arm was unmarked where he'd touched him earlier.

Sesshou looked up at Kagome. "Are you all right?" he asked. She was still standing there, pale and shaken. "Do you know what that was about?"

Kagome let out a shell-shocked laugh. "I don't know what ANY of this is about." The violet light that had surrounded her faded away slowly, as she pressed her hand to her face. "I can't remember anything after a couple of years ago. It's like. . . oh, forget it."

"You weren't sick in high school, were you," Sesshou remarked dryly.

Kagome shook her head. "I sure wasn't. It's a long story though."

She looked up at him. "What's up with the `Western Lord' stuff?"

Sesshou shrugged. "Not sure." Carefully, he picked Hojo up and set him on his feet. "Hey. Hey, Hojo."

Hojo let out a faint groan. "I'm not in bed. Why am I not in bed?" He squinted at Sesshou. "Shit Sesshou, did you get me drunk?" Hojo looked down at his chest with a frown. Had that ragged hole always been there?

"Sweater wasn't always this ventilated, was it? I'm sleepy." With that pronouncement, Hojo promptly collapsed on Sesshou's shoulder and commenced the snoring.

"I think it's safe to say that he'll be fine." Kagome grinned in relief. "Gods. I was afraid we were going to have to go to the hospital and ask them to treat him for possession."

Sesshou closed his eyes and listened carefully. Hojo's breathing and pulse sounded okay. He just seemed to be tired.

"All right," Sesshou murmured, tightening his grip on Hojo's waist. "Let's take him back to his house."

**********

She and Sesshou had been walking in the direction of both their homes for a few minutes, having brought Hojo back home. The poor guy had woken up when they had gotten on the train. He'd been a wreck, babbling about killer shadows and shiny people.

Thankfully, halfway through the train ride, he'd fallen asleep.

It hadn't helped that, before that, Keiko had boarded the train car with some loudmouthed young man Sesshou recognized from the Kendo gym. Keiko had taken a look at Hojo's shaking, drooling form, given the trio a superior look, and whispered something to her companion under her hand.

Kagome had caught the words "fetish for mental defectives," and had seen red. Sesshou had had to hold her arm to keep her still. He wouldn't have minded a confrontation, but Kagome had been propping Hojo up, and he really hadn't thought it would be a good idea to let the guy plant his face on the floor of a train car. It just hadn't seemed hygienic.

Kagome's brow creased as they walked. Before the attack, she had felt a shiver of recognition that someone inhuman was approaching.

Now that she was aware of her miko powers, she noticed that she felt something analogous when Sesshou was near. The spine-tingling terror was absent, but it was nonetheless clear that he wasn't your average joe.

Oh, yeah. She was all over it like Souta on a DDR dance-pad. He wasn't going to pull one over on her.

"You're not human," Kagome stated succinctly.

Sesshou stopped walking for a beat.

"Really? I'm stunned," he replied in a voice dryer than the Gobi. "The knowledge that I can transform into an enormous white dog did nothing to tip me off."

Kagome lurched to a halt, turned towards her companion, and pinned him with an intense stare. "You," she pronounced, "are a dog monster." She frowned. "A really sarcastic dog monster," she added under her breath.

Sesshou blinked, and then exhaled in irritation.

"Did you take time to think of the worst-sounding term possible, or did it just come to you?" Kagome looked mildly confused at his indignant tone. "I am incredibly not flattered."

Kagome bristled, before they started to walk again. "Fine. Youkai. Demonic human-shaped creature. Whatever, Mr. Sensitive," she muttered.

Sesshou shot her a sidelong glance. Two people could play this game. "Besides, what exactly is it that makes you think you are human? Give me some evidence here."

Kagome was visibly taken aback. She turned a curious look on Sesshou, who seemed to be walking a lot closer to her suddenly. "What makes you think I'm not?"

He shrugged, his arm brushing hers. "You don't feel like other people. You have power." Kagome blinked. "You also smell different," Sesshou stated bluntly.

Kagome looked horrified, and hurriedly inserted some distance between the two of them. Sesshou couldn't help but smirk at her sudden self-consciousness. "Don't get weird. You smell perfectly fine."

Sesshou mentally composed his acceptance speech for the understatement of the century awards.

"Oh," Kagome said slowly. Then, she shrugged, looking thoughtful. "I feel like I'm human. I catch colds, and fall asleep in class. You were adopted, so your origins suspicious. I was born like a human. Mama can vouch for me. I'm a miko, so maybe that's why I seem weird." Then, she looked up at Sesshou, dawning realization written all over her face.

He looked at her askance.

"Oh, no," she said dispiritedly as her shoulders slumped. "I guess I'm supposed to fight you or something. . ." Kagome bit her lip and frowned. "I don't really know."

She looked up at Sesshou's snort and saw him look up at the sky in exasperation.

He groaned inwardly. When had all semblance of logic abandoned this conversation?

"Why the hell," he asked through clenched teeth, "would you want to fight me?" His usual mask had been thoroughly dislodged by Kagome's sheer obtuseness. With a pained expression, Sesshou rubbed his temple. The girl was deranged.

Kagome smirked and shrugged, leading him to believe that she was deliberately trying to drive him to the brink of sanity. "You know," she said lightly. "Since you're a bloodthirsty dog-monster and all. I feel honor-bound to defend the hapless citizenry from your wrath." Her eyes sparkled up at him.

Sesshou scowled halfheartedly. "Stop calling me that!" he grunted, though he knew the effort was most likely futile. "You're being irresponsible. Shouldn't you wait until I actually demonstrate some blood-thirst before you attempt to kennel me with your mystical powers?" He infused the last two words with as much acid as he could muster.

Kagome glowered at him, and his tone turned confident. "Besides," he added coolly, "you can't do anything that I can't. From what I saw the other night, I'm faster and stronger than you are." His strides lengthened slightly, putting Kagome in the disadvantaged position of having to hurry to keep up.

"If anything," he concluded, "the only advantage you have on me is your ability to turn into a purple nightlight."

He smiled slightly as he heard her huff in outrage behind him.

"Ooooh," he deadpanned despite himself. "I'm so scared. I'm trembling." Sesshou was distantly aware that he was being immature, but he was unable to bring himself to care. Her reactions were just too hilarious. He could almost hear her twitching in anger. "Someone, hold me."

Kagome seethed. He was mocking her, and using his super-demonic powers of irritation, no doubt. Oh yeah, she thought, his demon ass was going down.

Not in that good way, either.

Her arm shot out and pulled him to a halt. "I'm not a nightlight!" she exploded as she started to glow, brimming with righteous anger.

Sesshou looked down at her. She was breathing a little heavily, eyes throwing sparks, and her warm hold on his wrist seemed to scorch his skin.

Sesshou's eyes narrowed.

Her hold on his wrist WAS scorching his skin!

He shook free of her grip and glared at her. "That hurt," he bit out, rubbing his abused extremity and frowning.

"Purple nightlight, huh? Put that in your pipe and smoke it," she pronounced with a triumphant nod. Then, she started to look sheepish, and it wasn't long before the mind-numbing guilt set in.

"Sorry," she said softly. "I wasn't thinking. Are you okay?" Sesshou glared at the top of her head as she grabbed his hand and hovered over it, trying to get a glimpse of her handiwork in the darkness. "I didn't really think that would do anything. It didn't work on whatever got Hojo, so. . ."

"Go test that on someone else," Sesshou retorted, tugging his hand away from hers and examining the skin there. "What am I, your guinea pig?"

The guilt faded slightly from Kagome's features. "Okay, point me towards the nearest youkai, and I'd be happy to," she returned. She looked at her shoe. "I'm really, really sorry," she mumbled, toeing awkwardly at a crack in the pavement.

Sesshou let out a long-suffering sigh before turning and starting towards home once more, giving her sleeve a tug. "Fine," he stated reluctantly. "I concede that in our inevitable battle to the death as mortal enemies, I may be slightly inconvenienced by you."

Sesshou noticed that his mortal enemy, during his gracious speech, had once again taken his hand in hers to search for horrible disfigurement. At the lack thereof, she let out a sigh of relief before allowing it to fall back between them, still wrapped in hers.

Gods, Kagome thought with a grin. What an ego. "You'd better believe it, doggie. The minute I hear that someone's been killed in a lethal game of fetch, I'll be the least convenient person you've ever met." She swung their hands for emphasis.

The corner of Sesshou's mouth twitched slightly. "You already are," he remarked acerbically, prompting a glare from Kagome.

When the two of them reached Kagome's door, she started digging through her bag for her house keys as the security lamp flicked on. She winced slightly, and Sesshou caught a glimpse of the strange mark on her palm. He'd seen it earlier, but forgotten about it.

Sesshou blinked and quickly reacquired her hand. There it was, a livid bruise. His eyes narrowed. They were definitely teeth-marks.

He suspected that he knew exactly how they had gotten there.

Kagome had gone still as stone as he looked at her palm, and jerked it away as soon as the panic-induced paralysis wore off.

"How did you get that bruise?" Sesshou asked silkily.

Kagome's face deepened rapidly into a very beetlike shade. Something about the way he was looking at her told her that he knew very well how she'd injured herself. If he did know, she really didn't want to know that he knew. She also didn't want him to know that she knew that he knew that she knew. . .

Or something.

Kagome was getting a bit confused.

"Uh, never mind that," she blurted out. "It was just an accident. Yuka has a cat. It likes to bite me. You know how it is, with cats and stuff. They can really, er, bite."

She unlocked the door and stepped back quickly before the dream flashback slideshow could get any more advanced, because she suddenly couldn't think of anything but how he had felt.

Being around Sesshou was really hazardous to her peace of mind.

Was it her imagination or was he leaning forward and sniffing her? Kagome turned even redder.

She looked up to see his eyes narrow slightly. They looked brighter somehow. "I see," he said slowly.

Kagome fervently hoped that he didn't.

"Well," she said awkwardly. "Could you call me tomorrow and let me know how Hojo is doing? And, uh, if you still don't mind helping me with my math, then you can let me know when you're free and stuff."

She quickly scribbled her phone number on the back of a sales receipt at his nod.

"Great. Goodnight," she said as she handed him the slip of paper.

He stepped forward slightly and cocked an eyebrow as he plucked the paper from her fingers. He traced the bruise on her hand lightly with the tip of a finger. "Pleasant dreams."

His voice was low, but she heard him with perfect clarity.

Kagome's jaw dropped in horror. Then, she ran into her house and shut the door so swiftly that she caused a breeze.

The corners of Sesshou's mouth turned up slowly. There was no doubt in his mind that she knew exactly what he meant.

"Got you," he murmured into the darkness.

**********

Once Kagome had washed her face, brushed her teeth, and changed into her pajamas, she sank into her bed with a relieved sigh.

Damn. Today had really taken it out of her. Her eyes slowly drifted shut, and the various sounds of home soothed her. She didn't want to think about why Sesshou knew about her dream. She didn't want to think about the thing that had possessed Hojo. She just wanted to sleep.

Then, a loud crack of thunder jolted her awake. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked out the window.

The sky was completely clear. That was strange.

Then, a loud voiceover kicked in. "All About Storms: an EduTV Special!" Cheapo keyboard theme music began to play.

Kagome got up, slid into her slippers, and bumped loudly down the stairs to find Souta sitting in front of the TV with several tins of coffee, and a notebook in his lap.

"Souta," Kagome seethed. "Why on earth is that so loud?"

"Well, I kept falling asleep when it was quieter," Souta explained with a big, cheesy smile.

Kagome smiled back as sweetly as she could through the blinding urge to strangle.

"Okay, different question. Why NOW? It's midnight! I need to get up tomorrow!"

Souta shrugged. "My report's due tomorrow. The library was out of the books I wanted so I have some videos to fill in the blanks."

Kagome sighed. She grabbed the remote from the table, and lowered the volume to reasonable levels. "There. I'm going to sleep now. Don't turn it up."

"Yeah, have fun with that," Souta replied distractedly in between gulps of coffee.

When Kagome slipped back into bed, she could still hear the TV.

"A hurricane occurs when masses of air come in contact with one another. One mass is warm, while the other is cold."

It wasn't loud enough to keep her awake. She curled beneath the covers and smiled.

"The low pressure area slides down the sides of the high pressure area. The warmer air rises, and the cooler air falls."

Warmth stole over her, and she closed her eyes, listening to the low, classy educational voice-over as sleep slowly claimed her. Right before she fell asleep, she saw a pair of cool golden eyes.

"They swirl in and around one another, creating the beginnings of nature's strongest storm. "

**********

Author's Note:

Special thanks go to Kitty Kei, Akai-chan, Scorpion Ocean, and Tsukitani for beta-reading and giving me advice about rating.

Kitty-Kei rocks because she sent me a ton of Naraku info! And Tsukitani rocks because I drafted her into beta-ing and then I got this HUGE thing back with tons of comments. It melted my heart, and that's tough because it's made of reinforced steel alloy.

Thanks so much to everyone who has left a review as well. You turn my eyes into big pink hearts, and my fingers into typing fingers. It's like this freaky magic.

I am so excited about writing the next chapter, you don't even KNOW. It will be insane. Or maybe it's just me that will be insane. Or you, if I continue to write this slowly. But hey, if that's the way the cookie crumbles I can't do much about it, unfortunately.

Credit for the voiceover goes to the Air: Virgin Suicides Sdtrk: "The Word `Hurricane'." I cut it up to suit my purposes.

Oh, and if you want to read about Yuka's dates in the first person, check out "Yuka Wars." It's a side-story type thinger.

PS - I'm aware that my summary sucks. If anyone could help me come up with a better one, I will love them forever.