"Otou, I wanna story!" pleaded the young boy as his father carefully set him down in his messy bed.

"Didn't I give you a story last night?" the father grumped, though his expression remained good-natured, even playful.

Three years, he thought even as he said that. It had been three years now since Inuyasha had become 'dad', and the title was still a bit overwhelming for him. But he was adjusting, slowly but surely, and the love he had for his son, Michi, was undeniably strong.

"But your stories are the best!" exclaimed little Michi, smiling a grand and childlike smile, bouncing around a bit on short three-year-old legs, ruffling up the faded maroon blanket that laid on his bed even more.

Inuyasha sighed, succumbing to the pleading. No one could convince him to do something more easily than the toddler—except perhaps Kagome, his wife and Michi's mother.

Of course, though, said wife was actually now expecting a second child, due in just another month or two, and had been worn out by the day's activities. Thus, it was Inuyasha's duty yet again to put Michi to bed.

"Ah, alright, kiddo," the hanyou agreed, ruffling the boy's short, black hair in between his pointed little puppy ears. The child laughed and stared up at his father with joyful indigo eyes—perhaps something of what Inuyasha's would look like were he to actually be happy on some new moon night.

"Thanks, Otou!" Michi gasped. "I'll go right to sleep after, I promise!"

"Keh, you'd better," Inuyasha scoffed lightly, though he couldn't help a quiet chuckle as he scooped the squealing boy off his feet and laid him down in bed, tucking him comfortably under the cozy maroon blanket, the color a startling contrast to the boy's pale green pajamas.

"I will, really!" the child promised again, snuggling right up in his blanket and pillows.

"Alright, alright," chided the hanyou, lying down on his side next to the child's low-lying futon, legs sprawled out, propping his head up on one elbow. "Now, which story do you want?"

Michi thought about it, making a big show of saying "hmmm" quite loudly while tapping his pursed lips, trying to restrain a smile, with a finger. At last his eyes lit up as he finally came to a conclusion.

"I know!" he gasped. "Tell me the adventure story! The one about the hanyou and the miko and the evil monkey!"

Inuyasha blinked in surprise.

"That one? Are you sure?"

"Yes!" agreed Michi happily. "That one's my favorite!"

"But it's so long," Inuyasha rebutted. "Why don't you just pick part of it?"

"Oh," murmured Michi, "Ok. Um…oh, I know! You can start with the beginning today, and then tomorrow, you can tell more! And keep going 'till it's done!" the child decided.

Inuyasha sighed. Good enough.

"Ok. Now lay down," he instructed firmly, though a twinge of gentleness remained in his tone. Michi obeyed quietly, though an excited grin still stretched across his face as his head rested with a slight wffk upon contacting the bean-and-buckwheat-filled pillow. He owned a softer, quieter pillow, as well; a "relic" from his mother's era, though as its consistency could be compared to stuffed animals, the little boy seemed to prefer cuddling it to sleeping on it.

"Once upon a time," Inuyasha began lowly, smiling at the excited expression of his son, "there was a hanyou. This hanyou had done a lot of strange things in the eyes of the villagers, but then that began to change when he met a miko who guarded the Sacred Jewel."

"But that miko wasn't the one he went on an adventure with," Michi added rather matter-of-factly.

"That's right, she wasn't," Inuyasha agreed. "She was a different one altogether. But still, the lonely hanyou, wanting someone who he could be friends with, began to fall in love with the Jewel miko. Then, one day, an evil monkey began making plans. He devised a plot to make the hanyou and the Jewel miko hate each other so that he could take the Jewel and make his wish. And, unfortunately, the Jewel miko and the hanyou fell right into his trap! The Jewel miko fought with the hanyou and eventually pinned him to the tree. Shortly after, she died a catastrophic death."

"But the hanyou was still alive!" squealed the boy.

"Yes, he was. But he was also sealed, pinned to that tree for fifty entire years!"

"Whoa! That's a long time, isn't it, Otou?"

"A very long time. But at the end of those fifty long years, a new miko traveled through a well and released the hanyou. He was mad at first because this new miko looked so much like the Jewel miko who had pinned him long ago. But then he began to realize that she was actually a very different person, and they became friends."

Inuyasha continued the story for a while yet, reaching all the way up to when this "miko" and "hanyou", along with a befriended kitsune, had met up with a mischievous monk. Michi's comments and interrupters became less and less frequent as tire overtook the toddler, slowly nodding off into a soft slumber.

Inuyasha at last noticed the child's gentle, even breathing; the peaceful, contented look on his sleeping face. Finally, he thought, leaning over to kiss his son lightly on the forehead—a somewhat uncharacteristic gesture reserved strictly to family members.

Of course, that only made its occurrences all the sweeter.

"Good night, Michi," he murmured quietly, voice scarcely above a whisper. "Have good dreams."

And this story's far from over.

"That was quite the story there," came a remark from behind him. Inuyasha turned to see Kagome standing in the threshold to Michi's little room, leaning against the doorway for slight support. She was dressed only in her inner shirt and a pair of loosely-tied hakama—no doubt ready to go to sleep, herself.

Inuyasha smiled and stood, walking over to her. He stood close to his beloved wife, resting a gentle, if clawed, hand over the miko's swollen stomach. Kagome smiled sweetly, covering his large hand with her own smaller one in a reassuring gesture.

"It's been strange to adjust with one; now I'm gonna have two!" Inuyasha admitted. There was no ridicule or any from of hard feelings in his tone, just playful bits of sarcasm and friendly teasing. Kagome huffed playfully at the words.

"Looks to me like you're handling the one just fine," she whispered happily, nodding towards the snoozing Michi all curled up in his blanket.

"Handling is one thing. Letting the situation sink in is another altogether!"

Kagome chuckled lightly.

"Perhaps so," she agreed. "But you know, I think you're doing pretty well with that, too."

Inuyasha smiled, another rare occurrence outside his home.

"Thanks."

There was a brief silence as the couple stood there quietly, enjoying each other's presence. Inuyasha moved gently in front of Kagome, resting his hands softly on her lower back and his forehead on hers. The miko released a blissful sigh, reaching her hands around her husband's neck. They closed their eyes and just stood, relishing in the sweet silence.

That is, of course, until Kagome broke it with a curious whisper.

"So what did bring that little 'adventure story' on?" she asked.

"Michi's request," explained Inuyasha. "He really likes that one. Suiting, I guess. After all, it is about his own family." Kagome smiled.

"That's true," she murmured. "But why did you end it with meeting Miroku? Surely there's more?"

"Of course there is, but Michi was asleep, for one thing, and besides, that story's too long to do in one night."

Kagome's sweet smile widened slightly as she played slowly with a lock of Inuyasha's long, silver hair.

"Well," she said softly, "You know what I think? I think that you'll never get to the end of that story, because it still isn't over. We're living the rest of that little adventure story every day."

And with that, she kissed him gently on the cheek before turning and moving back to their bedroom.

Inuyasha followed, the echoes of his smiles still clinging to his lips.

.oOo.

Michi awoke with a jolt, panting hard from running from the most terrifying of youkai. Looking around, though, he realized that he was no longer running clumsily through dark, forbidding forests. He was in his bedroom, quite safe and sound.

But still, now the images were in his head. Suddenly in the toddler's mind, every shadow became a monster crouched; every creak, a demon's snicker.

The boy shivered, suddenly realizing how cold he felt. The year was now reaching late September, so though the nights were slowly cooling, his bedding had not quite been exchanged from summer's faded maroon blanket to the thick, warm comforter-like one used in winter months.

Coldness. Thoughts of demons. As far as a three-year-old was concerned, these were perfect reasons to seek out some company.

Michi tumbled nervously off of his futon, timidly tiptoeing out of his little room. Once past the doorway, he made a mad dash for his parents' room, hesitating at the threshold. He squinted in the darkness, trying to make out the shapes that lay comfortably there. He could see the silhouette of his mother, sleeping and still. That was his first instinct, but he stopped himself.

Otou says no bothering Okaa right now, 'cuz she's gonna have a baby, he reminded himself.

Looking just past her, he could see his father asleep in a deep doze. Well, if mom couldn't be disturbed, dad was the only option, right?

Michi trotted quietly to the far side of his parents' futon, staring at his father's sleeping face for a moment. Then, hesitantly at first, he reached out and tugged one of his father's soft, white dog ears.

"Otou!" he whispered, then louder, "Otou!"

"Mmnph. What?" grumbled the hanyou, cracking open his golden eyes slightly and turning over on his back and holding himself up on bent elbows.

"I…I had a nightmare…" Michi squeaked fearfully, proceeding to explain every frightening detail that remained in his mind. Seeing the very unamused expression on his father's face, however, he began to trail off before coming to a complete halt.

"…Go back to bed, Michi," Inuyasha grumbled, lying back down on his pillow in the wish that he could go back to sleep, himself.

"But Otou, it's cold in there!" Michi added desperately, clinging to the creamy white leave of his father's inner-shirt.

"Ok, fine! Take this, then!" snapped Inuyasha tiredly, chucking a mass of fabric at his son.

There was a very brief silence. Inuyasha closed his eyes, lying back down turned away from the boy.

Michi paused for a moment, taking the fabric off his head and trying to figure out what it was. That didn't take long.

It was his father's fire rat haori.

Michi smiled widely. He knew that the fabric was supposed to be really warm and protective, like…well, kind of like his dad. He clutched it happily.

Inuyasha's eyes snapped back open at the sound of rustling and the feel of a weight crawling over him, settling next to his stomach. He looked to see his son curled up against him, wrapped up in his haori, and looking as happy as can be.

His first response was very brief; a rush of annoyance—hadn't he told that kid to go back to bed? But just looking at the expression on the child's face—pure happiness which faded to simple peacefulness as the child drifted back off to sleep—he just couldn't hold on to those negative emotions.

The hanyou sighed, releasing said emotions with a long exhale. He set a gentle hand on his son's small back, rubbing it comfortably for a minute. As he lay back down, he wrapped that arm all the way around the child, pulling him into a loose embrace.

"This kid is gonna be the death of me yet," the hanyou murmured good-naturedly as he slowly closed his eyes to sleep once more.

As he fell asleep that night, Inuyasha began to think. He thought about his life and his family. He thought about that bedtime story he'd shared with Michi just hours ago, and about his wife's gentle comments.

But Kagome was wrong, he realized. They weren't living the "adventure story" anymore.

They were living the "happily every after".

END