All "InuYasha" characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and associated copyright holders. No money is being made from this fan fiction. No infringement is intended. Nor do I make any claims to Mssrs. McCartney and Lennon's song "Norwegian Wood." I could never be so talented.

I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me.

I can't believe I'm sitting in a miko's hut. What am I thinking? I'm not going to get any from this cold fish – she sure is nice to look at though…what am I saying? I am a real dog, sometimes. Kikyou… why did you invite me in?

Kami… why did I come in? Oh well – let's see where this goes.

She showed me her room, isn't it good, Norwegian wood?

Hmmm… it sure isn't much, is it? Cold bare wooden floors, woven baskets of herbs, that fucking scary bow and a quiver of arrows – perched threateningly right where I'm sure to see them; how nice. A miko to the very end; no matter how lonely you are, no matter how much you want to feel my clawed hands brush down your bare back. I almost feel sorry for you, woman. While I may not have a home in the world, I'm at least comfortable in my own skin.

She asked me to stay and she told me to sit anywhere,

So I looked around and I noticed there wasn't a chair.

Pulling up a patch of floor at your silent request, I'm here and I'm listening. What is it that you want from me?

I sat on a rug, biding my time, drinking her wine.

Well, this is fun. Drinking strong tea from a crooked wooden cup with my enemy, who's trying too hard to be my friend. Are we going to simply stare in silence at one another all night?

What do you mean am I happy? Happiness has nothing to do with reality. I simply am. I am a hanyou – it's the role in which I was cast; so given your kind's vapid need to cleanse away any perceived evil with your limitless prejudice and my brother's kind, who lust for nothing but stark raving purity in all things, how can I be happy? I'm just trying to survive.

Yes, I am lonely, now that you ask. What, are you going to be the one to swoop in and save my lonely soul in a blaze of stupid compassion? Don't look so damn surprised; I'm not as stupid as I look. I've spent more years watching the world than you've been alive, woman!

Of course I see you as a woman; those miko clothes aren't as shapeless as you might think, he he… Don't give me that menacing look – you sought me out, remember? Yes – I think you are beautiful: cold, sad, and beautiful. You need to quit trying to straddle the fence here, Kikyou. I'd easily love you – sure, I could – if you'd let me. But I'm just a worthless hanyou; a filthy abomination deserving only your pity and righteous destruction. But tell me something; is it only your professional pity?

Something in those deep, dark eyes of yours tells me the woman behind the miko is searching very hard for a reason to let me into her well-guarded castle of a heart.

We talked until two and then she said, "It's time for bed."

You've been worrying those coals for hours now, plying me with roundabout questions all night. Are we going to do something here once you've convinced yourself that you only have a tiny way to fall if you bed me tonight? Your scent has been slowly basting my nose with your so-carefully hidden desire and I must say, I've been a better man to not have brought it up with embarrassing candor.

We both know how blunt I can be. I don't think it's a character flaw at all. You humans desperately need a loading dose of honesty now and then. Short life equals short sight, in my opinion. It's the only thing that my ass-hair of a brother and I have ever agreed upon.

My, your powder-puff lips are so dry. Does my hard yellow stare make you want something, miko? It's awful cold this time of year to sit under that waterfall in the morning and confess your stinking sins.

She told me she worked in the morning and started to laugh.

I told her I didn't and crawled off to sleep in the bath.

Oh, so after leading me on all night, begging me wordlessly to shoulder the burden of being your personal devil, you've decided you need your rest to guard the Shikon stone on its procession to the Eastern shrine. Funny how that's suddenly lit a fire under your crimson hakama and now you send daggers at my lounging form to get the fuck out of your neat little picket-fenced life.

Fine – I'm leaving; don't get all pink and shiny over it, already! Unlike you, I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow. Maybe I'll try to steal the jewel again – but you know, after this little palaver I think I just might let you beg me for a reason to rebel. You come to me when you're ready, wench.

And when I awoke I was alone, this bird had flown.

I crashed overnight on your roof. Something twisted in my male mind wanted to see if you moaned my name to the darkness. Such a sad little fix you've let yourself be snared in. When you left the hut before dawn, loaded for demonic bear in your priestess's official best dress – I quirked an eye open to see you off. Then I drifted back off for an hour; more or less. You're a big girl, I'm sure you'll handle whatever it is just fine. Attacking marauding demons after such an honest and straightforward thing like the Shikon Jewel is a cake walk compared to the dark, tangled maze of your own indecisive, guilty and lonely heart.

I'll bet you'll be thinking about me while you're gone. Come find me when you make up your mind, Kikyou.

So I lit a fire, isn't it good, Norwegian wood.