Obligatory Disclaimer: I clearly do not own any of the characters within (even those who may or may not be originals), any of the settings, concepts, or other potentially copy-written works within this piece. I am merely a vessel; A messenger who conveys a story, nothing more, nothing less.

"Kagome! Kagome!" Someone cried from within a cave, their voice distant and echoing as she gasped and suddenly opened her eyes to a blinding light. Wincing, she brought her hands up to block her face as she attempted to acclimate to the light.

"It is rather bright here. Give yourself the chance to adjust." A gentle masculine voice said and Kagome blinked a few more times before finally looking at the scene before her. She stood on a floating platform, well… it was more like a rock, if she was being honest… which led to another larger rock, and another and another as far as her eyes could see. In the faint distance there was a floating castle, birds flying about it as the clouds lazily rolled by. The sky was a pale blush of pinks and oranges, a lovely scene in all.

It was not where she had been just moments earlier when she closed her eyes.

Frowning, Kagome looked to the man standing before her. He seemed to be Chinese at first glance, but his clothing and appearance actually was a mixture of various Asian cultures. He had long black hair, a white fan in his right hand, and was rubbing his lengthy goatee with the left. A mischievous grin was on his face, which Kagome wasn't sure endeared her to him or made her more wary. "Where am I?" She finally broached.

The man, which she couldn't tell if he was old or young, laughed heartily and waved at her with his left hand, bringing her closer before leaning in as if he was about to reveal a great secret. "You are dead!" He said in a delightful tone, as if he hadn't just told her that her life was over.

Kagome's eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she gaped at him for a few moments before looking back over the scenery. "So… this is heaven?"

That just made the man laugh even harder. Several minutes went by before he stopped laughing and shook his head. "No! Well, maybe! Who knows? Call it what you like, I highly doubt anyone will care."

The woman let out an exasperated sigh and looked at him quizzically. "What do you call it?"

The man suddenly became serious, smirking as he reached into his sleeve for something and nodding to himself as he pulled it out. "Home. What use are pointless names when there is no one to bother a claim on a place which cannot be reached other than by death? That isn't important. What is important is this." He held out the document he had procured and she took it with a curious gaze, staring down on it.

"What is it?"

"Ah… hm… let's call it…" Folding the fan with a snap, he tapped his chin with the end of it and smiled broadly. "A report card."

Kagome's expression turned sour. "What am I being graded on?" Her grades were never that good, mediocre at best.

The man raised an eyebrow, reminding her of someone she once knew – although she couldn't quite place it. "Your life, of course."

Her mouth fell open as she just stared at him for a few moments, frozen stiff with the realization that someone had been grading her very existence. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the news. She had failed her home economics course… what if she got a failing mark in life, too? It was almost too much to bear, but Kagome was anything but a coward and so, with trembling fingers, she opened the folded paper. It was blank.

At first she thought the man was playing a prank on her. Yet, when she looked up, she realized he was no longer there. Staring back down on the paper with confusion, she sighed for a few moments, only to pause and gasp, releasing the paper as ink began to swell out of it… red ink.

The paper fluttered to the ground and just like everything else in Kagome's life (afterlife?) something decided to go wrong and a gust of wind blew. She let out a squeak as the paper flew out and she raced over, reaching for the paper and giving off a cry as her fingertips barely brushed the document. Her eyes widened even more as she found herself falling. Catching the paper against her chest, she screamed as her body tumbled through the endless expanse of sky. Falling, falling, ever falling… she was kind of bored of falling now.

"Usually, individuals who reach this level aren't this clumsy. You must have done something exceptional in your life." The man's voice returned to her and she opened her eyes to realize she was hovering above the ground next to the large castle she had seen. He pursed his lips and reached out, snatching up the paper from her and staring down on it. "Typically, it is up to the deceased to read their final report, but seeing as you are struggling so badly, I will assist you."

Kagome frowned. "You remind me of someone I once knew. Who was that?" Her face contorted in thought as she tried to remember this person, only for her frown to deepen as she realized she couldn't remember anyone at all. She had little time to think on it as the man before her gasped, releasing her from her freefall as he gripped the document between both hands. Kagome fell to the ground, letting out a groan as she stood and rubbed at her sore body before standing with a huff.

"Quite exceptional. You have been given an assignment, optional, of course. You may take what is due to you, returning to the next level of life that you have earned, like any other – which in this case is… several levels higher than your last life – or, you can become a watcher. How interesting. I wonder what you did."

She shrugged. "I have no idea."

He smirked. "Of course you don't. No one ever does."

Kagome blinked and took the paper from him. "So what exactly is a watcher?"

"A being which watches over and guards, particularly of a specific soul – in this case the gods have deemed a particular soul to be a… troublemaker. They are the last of their kind, a kind that has been slowly cleansed and returned to the cycle of life, but this one has need of help. They would have to start at the lowest of levels, a pity for one that has done good deeds in their time, but they have not done enough. They need help."

She thought about it. "Like… what are they called… a… guardian angel?"

"Ones who come here are not normally so fixated on labeling everything. Ah well, in light of your accomplishments, yes… like a guardian angel. You are going, then?"

Kagome didn't even have to think. "Of course. If someone needs help, then we should help them if we can. I can, so I am going to."

The lights flickered. That would have been funny, if she hadn't just been standing in what was clearly an outdoor area with never-ending ambient lighting. Kagome blinked and cocked her head to one side as her brow furrowed. What did funny feel like again? She couldn't remember. The lights flickered once more and she realized she was standing in a small bathroom, if it could even be called that. Calling it a closet would have been generous. There was barely enough room for one person to stand in the space where there was a small toilet and a shower – no sink.

"I just replaced that bulb last week." An exasperated and oddly familiar voice said with a sigh as a man entered the tiny space, reaching up to tap at the bulb. Kagome gave a startled sound as she stepped back into the shower space, trying not to be trampled, only to realize when she pressed her back against the tiles there was something missing. Shouldn't it feel… cold?

Illumination filled the bathroom again and she turned suddenly to look at him, wondering if he was going to scream at her sudden appearance. He didn't scream. She, on the other hand, would have if she had any idea what fear felt like. Reaching up, she smacked at her face, trying to see if this was all some kind of weird dream. Nothing. She could feel nothing.

Her lip quivered as she stepped forward, staring as she watched him wash up and prepare for the day. He lathered his face with soap before splashing water on the all-too-familiar appearance. He was missing the markings that she felt so firmly he should have, her mind could recall the details of his personality and appearance with such intensity that she wondered if he had been someone important to her before… before… sometime before, she couldn't remember when. Reaching out, she waved a hand before his face, noting how he didn't respond.

Without fear, as she had no reason to concern herself, she boldly reached out to brush her fingers along his jawline, watching with mild curiosity as he shuddered and brought his hand up to rub at the skin before staring around in confusion.

"A draft?" He wondered.

She would have giggled, if she could find things funny. Instead she merely watched him, wondering why it was he of all souls that required her help. He didn't seem that bad. He shook off the momentary disruption and continued to dress, dabbing some cologne on before running a brush through his hair and pulling it into a low ponytail. Watching him as he stepped out of the bathroom, flipping the light off as he went, she wondered how she was supposed to help him do anything. He couldn't see her, could barely feel her (even when he did, she doubted he knew what he was sensing – a draft, really?), and probably couldn't hear her. As he finished the knot of his tie and pulled on a suit jacket over his powder blue button-up, she noted that she was unable to make out the scent he wore. With a small sigh, Kagome decided it was best to try a direct approach, he would appreciate that.

Test one, to see just how much he could respond to her presence. Could he even hear her? She knew he had exceptional hearing, but was he able to hear those who weren't mortal? There was only one way to find out.

"Sesshomaru?" Why did that name seem familiar?

No response as he gathered up his briefcase and keys, the jingling pulling her out of her thoughts. She realized she would need to perform other tests to find out the limit of her abilities. So far it seemed only touch was even marginally useful. Unfortunately, she was out of time as he opened the door to the tiny apartment and began to lock her within.

Her eyes widened and she walked over to the door, reaching out for it and smiling lightly as her hand went right through it. Stepping through the door, she paused for a moment, staring at the solid surface and down at herself, which appeared to her to be quite solid. Why hadn't that hurt a little? She expected it to feel at least a little odd, but there had been nothing. She was simply within the apartment and then she was not.

Turning, she noted that Sesshomaru had already left. His heavy footsteps could be heard as he went down the many flights of stairs from his floor to the ground level and she looked down, raising an eyebrow as she wondered how she might get to where he was without messing with all these stairs. It wasn't that she had anything against stairs, just that she had no idea where he might be going. Her problem was easily solved when she found that the more she concentrated on him, the closer to him she became. Eventually, she was standing right next to him on a platform, waiting for the train.

How odd for him to be taking a train full of humans. She would have thought he would own a fancy car, maybe even have a chauffeur. What did he do for a living, anyway? Head a business? She could see him as some sort of wealthy tycoon, controlling the fates of many and having more money than sense. That didn't explain the miniscule apartment, though. Maybe he was stingy with his money.

Following him into the train, she frowned as people stepped not only past her, but right through her, as if she wasn't even there. She had to remind herself that she wasn't, not technically. She was not living and she was not dead – a strange thought. Shifting closer to him, she eyed him as he ignored the people around him, holding a newspaper, folded in quarters, above their heads as he read it with relative ease. People bumped into him, young women brushed against him, men tried to avoid him, but for the most part he seemed to not care about their presence or their abuse of his personal space. When they finally reached his stop, he followed the crowd as it pushed out, but not before pausing to help an older woman who had tripped and lost her shoe. Kagome watched him as he checked the woman for injuries as he gently replaced her shoe and told her to be more careful. The woman blushed profusely and nodded, thanking him before leaving suddenly.

Sesshomaru seemed to think nothing of it, tucking his paper under his arm and continuing on with smooth, calculated steps towards his final destination. When they entered, Kagome was surprised to find that they were not in a corporate office, a bank, or a fancy hotel. Instead, they were in a hospital.

A short woman behind the counter, hair tied up in a tight bun, smiled at him and followed him as he passed, entering a small room behind the nurse's station which contained one bed – currently occupied – a microwave, a sink, one table with three chairs, and eight lockers. He opened one of them as the woman began. "Good morning, Mr. Fukuzawa, how was your evening?"

"Pleasant enough Kimiko, carry on." He replied, stuffing his newspaper and briefcase inside his locker as he pulled out the white coat and threw it on, popping open the briefcase and taking up a stethoscope, a few pens, a notebook, and a calculator, placing them all within his pockets with such practice that it was clear he had done this many times before.

Kimiko gave a nod, looking down at the files. "A few minor scrapes and bruises are waiting in the lobby. Six is occupied by a fourteen year old female who appears to have abdominal pain. Nine has a four year old male who will not stop screaming, presenting with a fever, loss of appetite, and previous history of a cold for the past three days. Also…" She shifted uncomfortably.

Kagome watched as Sesshomaru pulled out a large bag from his locker, pulling a large handful of suckers from within and putting them inside his left pocket before tossing the bag back inside and turning to the nurse. "Also…?" He queried.

The nurse sighed. "Also, Mrs. Watanabe is back. She's in eleven." She said in hushed tones.

Sesshomaru nodded, closing his locker. "I see. I'll handle it." The nurse seemed relived, handing over the files to him as he dismissed her and began his rounds. Kagome followed him, watching as he first went to six. She was surprised at how gentle he was, carefully examining the girl and questioning her and her mother, who had accompanied her. In the end, he had ordered her to undergo several tests and while he waited for those to be processed he went to exam room nine. His demeanor changed entirely from the previous patient, who he was calm, but firm with. In this case, he was almost playful, teasing the child into giving him the answers he sought before turning to his worried mother with a kind gaze to explain that her child had a mild ear infection. Sending the boy off with his mother, instructions, and a red sucker, Sesshomaru paused and sighed before turning to room eleven.

Kagome watched as he took a slow breath, seeming to count to ten before he pushed past the curtain with a wide smile. "Mrs. Watanabe, I hear you're causing trouble again."

The elderly woman gave a weak smile. "They just can't give me an answer like you can, Mr. Fukuzawa." She said, withering beneath his gaze. Her eyes were begging as she looked up at him and he sat across from her, flipping over her chart lazily. He raised an eyebrow.

"An answer to what?"

Kagome's eyes widened as the woman lifted up her shirt to expose her abdomen, where there was obviously a large gash within the stomach fat, not that the woman had much to begin with. Sesshomaru frowned and shook his head, setting the chart aside before standing and pulling on some exam gloves. "You shouldn't have done this."

The old woman shook her head. "Oh no, I didn't do this, I fell."

Sesshomaru stilled, giving the elderly woman an incredulous look before he pressed a few buttons on a cart and pulled out a few drawers, taking up the items he needed and sitting in front of the woman. He cleaned the wound in silence and Kagome noted that it wasn't very deep; she hoped that was a good sign. "I think you need to speak with someone from mental health, Mrs. Watanabe."

Both women were surprised. Mrs. Watanabe spoke up first, her eyes widening. "You think I'm crazy?"

Sesshomaru shook his head as he stitched up the wound. "I think you're depressed after the death of Mr. Watanabe. You have visited monthly, always on the same date, for the past five months."

The elderly woman's eyes teared up. "I didn't tell anyone that! How did you know?"

He shrugged, giving her a smirk. "An educated guess."

"I can't talk to someone about this, Mr. Fukuzawa. What will the neighbors say?"

"They don't have to know." He replied, finishing up the stitches and placing a large bandage over it, to make sure she didn't mess with them. He stood, pulling off his gloves and tossing them in the trash before he took up her chart and turned to her. "Come with me."

The woman's mouth fell open. "You're taking me there now?"

He nodded. "You won't go if I don't, will you?" He teased, raising an eyebrow and daring her to say otherwise. The old woman flushed and put her clothes in place before following him out the exam room and down the hall. Kagome followed them, wondering what he possibly had done in the past to require help. He seemed fine enough. If anything, he only appeared to be a little lonely.

Kagome followed him through his day, watching and wondering how he dealt with all the pain. Other than Mrs. Watanabe, he saw no other adult patients – it took her a few hours to realize he was a pediatrician. Granted, most of his cases were simple. A little medicine here, a few stitches there, a colorful bandage and a sucker and he would send them on their way to continue to get in more trouble and probably return to him in a few months.

Once in a while, there were the bad cases. Cases where Kagome found herself stepping in between Sesshomaru and his patient, placing a comforting hand on their tiny heads and watching with an impassive gaze as her cold touch drew the life out of them. His brow would furrow, dark brown eyes (a color she felt didn't suit him in the least) would glare at everything and nothing in particular as he sniffed and fought down a growl of frustration, attempting anything he could to save the child. It was always too late.

She followed him, watching as he would break the news to the parents – both were usually present by the time Kagome would act. Mother would fall into father, sobbing gently as father held her firmly and Sesshomaru stood beside them, clearly bothered at his inability to save another.

Part of her considered how he had found himself in such a career; it didn't suit what she knew of him. He should be an angry, struggling individual who had trouble doing good things for the world. Yet, his every day work was nothing short of a gift to society. What did he need her help for?

Her answer came when it was finally time for him to feed himself. He went into the cafeteria, ordering something healthy and from what she could tell, very bland, and sitting in the corner… alone. Kagome sat across from him, the chair squeaking slightly but not shifting much beneath her actions. Sesshomaru didn't look at her, pouring the dressing over his salad before mixing it up and then letting out a slow sigh.

"Why are you following me?"

Kagome blinked, staring around the room before looking at him with a small smile and resting her head on her hands. He couldn't possibly be talking to her. There was no way. Yet, there was no one else nearby and, since she had actually been following him, she knew no one else was.

He grumbled, taking up a bite and chewing it far too many times than she was certain was necessary, before swallowing down some of his filtered water and giving a sigh. "I don't know what you are, or where you came from, but you can go back. I'm not done here and I don't need your help."

Well, wasn't he a bowl of sunshine? How did he know, anyway?

Sesshomaru leveled his gaze on her, despite the fact that he was staring at absolutely nothing. If she was capable, Kagome might have felt uncomfortable, instead she just felt curious. How could he know she was here? Standing up slowly, she moved to sit next to him, noting that his gaze didn't move from the now completely empty chair. Still, when he spoke, it was very obvious that he was directing his comments to her. "Also, would you mind not killing my patients? They're only children."

Sympathy for the weak – what an unusual trait for someone labeled as a troublemaker.