The Clocks Struck Twelve, Part One: You Still Believe in Me.

I had just awoken. I didn't know where I was, except for the fact that I was in mud. Laying face-down in mud, to be exact. The unmistakable smell of blood and urine overwhelmed my senses and my mind was taken aback by a vague realization that I was face down in mud. I don't remember much of what I was doing up to now, other than lying face-down in mud, but I'll try to relate the story the best I can to you, if you can relate.

It was uncharacteristically dark outside, but it was justified- as it was night, and it often tends to be rather dark during the night. The full moon's shallow glow radiated off the surface of the river and into my face, it's light stung my arguably myopic human eyes.

My hair hung into the water where it stood still for a short second and was swiftly carried downstream, I looked into the frigid flowing fluid and stared at myself, and I stared right back. I didn't look very friendly.

I sighed, it's always so damn tedious without Kagome there to knock about. I have to admit (or maybe not) that deep down in the darkest corner of the most secret area of the portion of my heart that I never show anybody, ever, I love that girl, all the way to the center my fangs.

Tracing algorithmic patterns into the soil, my hand clenched into a fist of rage, I pounded the ground in frustration. Where the Hell was she? That girl that I would kick the SHIT out of if my skin got too thin to hold my demon blood in. That girl that had I come SO close to falling for and had come SO CLOSE to falling by my OWN HAND.

But (don't let her know) she's an angel. She was the kind of girl that always smiled and laughed and blushed and sighed and slept while I watched her. Why did she always come back? Why couldn't she see that I would never bare my naked feelings? Why did she insist upon showing her love? She always made it seem so effortless.

I often have this recurring dream. I would be a grassy hill, or on a straw mat, or on a blanket, or on pretty much anything, but that's against the point. The recurring part of the dream was what I was doing and who I was doing it with. I would always be sitting there next to Kagome, and then I would... kiss (whenever I woke up I was always strangely disappointed to find it was only a dream).I'm a virgin, and I had never felt anything like it before. The last thing I want to do in the world is hurt her.

The last time I had that dream, she bit one of my human earlobes, and I sighed softly as my blood trickled slowly down my shoulder. The blood would coagulate and coalesce into a small black speck that slowly grew as more blood was dripped into it from my ear. After a bit of this, the hardened blood had formed a solid rock-hard mass that flowed over my skin like some sort of full-body cage. I was trapped.

I woke up that night in a cold sweat.

I found out the hard way that she had a pair of false-bamboo wind chimes that hung outside her window, beautiful things, they would play the most wonderful music at the kiss of a breath, and I hated them more than anything.

One night, when she had been gone for way too long-

"Two days, actually" Said Miroku.

I decided to go to her room, she was sleeping, her arms outstretched, her hair falling down her lovely neck. I climbed through the window into her room and watched her for a number of minutes (although it seemed like hours), and at exactly twelve-fifty-six, she rolled into a remarkably... comfortable position (but please don't tell her that). I leaned over her to get a better angle of her slender body, and naturally, a remarkable strong gust of wind sent the wind chimes ringing. Instantly, my adolescent sexual curiosity had been quickly transformed into furiousity. In short, I had never run any faster.

I leaned back onto the sand and gravel that lay on the river bank, put on my kimono, and began to walk towards camp.

At the campsite, things were going as usual. Kagome was cooking something that smelled like worse than death, Shippou was examining the size of his tongue, Miroku was getting a bit too friendly with Sango's girl-parts, and she was subsequently slapping him. I swear, it's like bloody clockwork, every single day.

At this point I took a nap, but as far as I can remember, it wasn't in mud, it was under a tree, I think. Whatever.