AN: This is an Alternate Universe fiction. The Inuyasha characters (if I choose to put them in) are in America. I know virtually nothing about Japan, so I'm not going to embarrass myself by saying something wrong. I will not be using Japanese terms, either, since they will be in America. Sorry for all of you Japan fans… I love it, too, but I'm lazy and don't want to research anything. The pairing in this fiction is going to be Kagura and Sesshoumaru.

For all of you who read the original version of this, the last names have been changed, and the scenes are going to be different. I'd love to keep it as it was, but with the short length and horribly small amount of description, the last version wasn't up to my standards. I am sorry to those of you who liked it before.

Epilogue- Wednesday, September 1

Sunset High- 6:55 AM

I watched her come into our second year of high school on the first day looking like she was lost... not lost as in location, but as if she had lost part of her soul to sadness. I couldn't recognize her, so I assumed she was new to Sunset High. I was tempted to go over and see if she was alright, or if she needed some help with something, but my mind warned me not to. And for that moment, I didn't.

She looked around with a slight frown on her face, seemingly searching for a friendly face. From the looks of it, she wasn't having much luck. I inwardly cringed, knowing how cruel everyone was to people like us; the outsiders. Amazing, isn't it? I hadn't even been looking at her for more than a minute, and I could already tell she was an outsider. She was like me; she didn't belong in a place like this.

A few minutes later the bell rang and everyone was walking down the hall to the auditorium where the welcoming speech would be held. Before we even walked twenty feet, she tripped and fell, knocking over some show-offs girlfriend. He gave her a cold look and told her to stay away from them, threatening that he would make her sorry otherwise. It made me sick how seriously he took the mistake. As if she had done it on purpose.

She remained silent and kept walking, her gaze cast towards the floor. I picked up my stride slightly so that I was walking next to her. She seemed to notice because she looked up at me, an unvoiced question in her eyes. I looked over to her, my hazel eyes meeting her brown ones.

I took in her appearance. She had black hair with what looked like natural dark brown highlights. The hair went down to the middle of her back, and was slightly wavy. She had a nice figure, which I had failed to notice before. I observed her further. She was wearing a red halter top with a white star over the area of her heart, and a pair of forest green baggy pants that were secured about an inch below her waist with a white belt. A silver chain hung loosely from the belt. It suited her, in a way.

Her clothes were unlike my own, a pair of jeans that settled below my waist and hips and a loose short-sleeved black shirt. My designer glasses sat on the bridge of my nose, the rectangular frames making me look more classy and professional than like a bookworm. My long, straight platinum blonde hair fell down to my waist, looking perfect as if I spent hours on it. Many girls who did not know me often thought I was handsome. I had been admired by a great many girls in middle school; though they had stayed away because of our different ranks on the social ladder (I was lower than them).

I looked at her solemn face and gave her a small smile, which I let linger for a couple of seconds before settling back into my emotionless mask.

"This school... isn't very friendly." I got right to the point, as usual.

"So I've noticed," she said bitterly, "And I thought I might actually fit in here. I guess I was wrong." Her words sounded more sorrowful by the end of the sentence, and I found myself feeling something resembling pity for the girl. Unusual as it was for me to feel anything, I didn't think too much of it.

She looked as though she had been through this many times before, the rejection. It seemed as though she had given up, in a way. She just let it slide by without a fight, as though she carried a heavy burden on her shoulders that she didn't want to add to. I could tell that her thoughts were taking a toll on her.

I silently calculated that it would take about three minutes to get to the auditorium from where we were if the traffic in the hallway kept moving this slowly. We had some time to talk, which wasn't really a good thing, but wasn't bad either. I decided it was closer to good than bad.

She looked at me, and I looked back at her, silently urging her to say whatever she may be holding back.

"I wonder..." Her voice trailed off and I was left to search my mind for a reasonable answer to what she might have said next. I could come up with nothing.

"You wonder," I urged. My voice was still emotionless, but if you had been paying attention to the conversation, you would know I was trying to get an answer out of her. I was curious, after all.

"Never mind..."

We reached the auditorium and I walked into the middle, taking a seat as far to the right as possible. She followed. I had no complaints, so I let her stay. It seemed as though she felt uneasy to go anywhere else.

The speech went by rather uneventfully. The principal made a long speech on how she expected everyone to follow the student manual, how she was delighted to welcome back those who came to school here last year and then smiled and wished the newcomers luck. Then the other teachers made their appearance, and made very short (less than two minutes long) speeches about what they did there and read off a list of who was in their homerooms.

I paid attention closely during that part, storing away the information silently. If I were to ever need to know where to find one of these students (as doubtful as it was I would), I would know where to go to find them, as the lockers we were assigned to were always near our homeroom.

Finally I heard my name. (I was in Ms. Steven's class.) I mentally sighed. I was in her homeroom last year, too. She was an old woman with much, much patience, but she tended to speak in riddles. More often than not, you walked out of her class with a headache.

After the speeches, I turned to the girl.

"What is your name?" My voice sounded calm and cool, but my eyes showed a hint of curiosity.

"My name is Kagura Johnson. And you?"

"Sesshoumaru Honda."

We stood and started to follow the rest of the students out of the auditorium. When the line slowed down a bit I realized that we were in the same homeroom so we'd be seeing each other between classes a lot.

As we approached our homeroom, I heard her sigh with a slightly shaky breath, and I turned to look at her. Even though her head was turned downward, and her bangs shaded her eyes, I could tell that her eyes were glassy. Slowly, as if unsure, I put my hand on her shoulder. When she looked up at me, a tear fell down her cheek. My hand reached up of its own accord and wiped it away.

She smiled slightly and spoke in a whisper so soft I had to strain my ears to hear it.

"I wish... I had somewhere I could belong."

I felt slightly annoyed that she should be acting so dramatic, but I could also tell that she didn't mean to sound so much like she was speaking out of a script. I looked at her, signaling her to follow, and we went into the room. The class turned to us (we had made it in at the very last minute), and the teacher told us to take a seat.

The only seats left were two in the back, and we sat there. Halfway through our first lesson, my mind wandered to what she had said about wanting somewhere to belong, and a strange thought occurred to me. Turning to face her slightly, I leaned over slightly and whispered in her ear.

"If you wish, you could belong here."

She turned to face me suddenly, startled. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she met my gaze, searching for a sign of lying. When she seemed satisfied that I had meant it, she smiled slightly.

Then she said, in a barely audible whisper, "Thank you." And I saw tears form in her eyes a second time. She turned back to the teacher then, and I did the same.

I wondered to myself why I had trusted her so much. Why had I trusted her enough to allow myself to show emotion? Later, I would come to realize that it was because, in a way, she reminded me of myself. She had been rejected by society, and she was alone.

As that thought struck me, I corrected myself. She had been alone, but no longer. For now, neither one of us was alone. It was with that knowledge that I allowed myself to relax for the rest of the day.

AN: Please review! The more reviews I get, the sooner the new chapters will come!