Disclaimer: Nope I do not own IY

A/N: Okay, let's see, where to start? The mom's story isn't all recollections and emotons and stuff...her side WILL have plot...but I can't tell you what just yet...ah yes, there's more swearing in this one than in my others...I am nota person who uses curses like this in my own language, but the characters might, under the right circumstances. So Inuyasha says, "Bitch," A LOT! (but we all know what it secretly means...) and Kagome gets really mad at him and swears back. I drop the f-bomb once, just once...that's why it's rated R (or M or whatever) right at this moment...I knew the language would be coarse...I hope that that doesn't bother anyone too much...I always listen to reviewers so if you have anything to say, ANYthing at all, by all means, write me a review and tell me about it...also there's a lot more Miroku Sango tension in this story, a lot more than most of mine...I'm starting to warm up to their antics and get better at writing them...so I hope to make you laugh with that b/c those two ARE funny...(grins) anyway, my thanks to reviewers at the end...by the way, the quote is from the band Evanesscense or however you spell the stupid thing...grr! You know, the band that made "Bring Me To Life," and "My Immortal" popular. Kay...on with the story!


Realization

(…I know you can hear me—I can taste it in your tears…)

It was just after nine o'clock when the phone rang. I threw Ashi off my lap and rushed to get the thing. Answering it I covered the mouthpiece and cleared my throat, trying to cover the thickness that crying always gives a person's voice. I knew ahead of time that it'd be futile, but I had to try anyway.

Forcing on a smile, as if it could prove my state of mind to my throat and larynx, I spoke into the phone, "Hello?"

"Mom." I knew the voice right away and sighed with relief, the façade gone as fast as it'd come up.

"Souta! Oh honey, I'm so glad you called!" already I could feel the tears creeping in again, making the little tremble in my voice terrible like an earthquake. I was sure Souta had heard it, but he made no comment about it, and although I sensed the strain in his voice he was under careful control himself as well.

"Mom, are you all right? Do you want me to come and stay with you at home for a few days?"

Inside I wanted to scream how much I did, how much I missed him, his company, his smile, but I didn't dare. Souta was grown now; I couldn't very well cling to him, now could I? I'd stifle his growth. I had to let him go…no matter how much it hurt me to do it.

There is a point at which parents and children exchange places. I had raised Souta into the young man that was speaking with me in such tight, careful concern. Yet, although I had dried his baby tears, changed his dirty diapers, and washed his clothes for many long years, I didn't want him to have to do that for me. It was a silent pride in being a parent. I wanted to see my son succeed and grow, I didn't want to still be changing those diapers, and I didn't want him to be burdened with taking care of me in any way. One day it might happen anyway. Souta might care for me just as I had cared for my father. By then I would accept it with age, and with the need for continued human companionship. But not now…not yet.

I shook my head into the receiver, even though I knew full well that my son couldn't see the motion. "No, I don't need that. I survived when your daddy died, Souta," at her sides her hands balled into fists of determination, "And I will survive this too. It'd be nice, I admit, to have your company, but I'm okay."

He paused before answering me; I could see him looking around the room in my mind's eyes, seeking something impartial to land his gaze on, something that wouldn't care that he stared in his inner turmoil. "Are you sure, Mom? You know it's not a trouble for me. I have a few days off. It's only a few hours drive…" he left it open, fishing for my opinion. He was already feeling like retuning to the "nest" was a sin. He probably would tell none of his friends where he was going, especially if they were large, bulky, athletic types. I knew Souta was always working to impress, always determined to get somewhere with others. I didn't want to ruin that.

"I told you Souta, I'm a little lonely without Gramps here," Alittle? The damned voice inside me whispered, catching me in a lie, "But Ashi is still here…" God knows where I'd end up if he weren't!

"It's a cat, Mom." Souta snorted, "I'm coming. I'll be there by morning. Sound good to you?"

"In the morning?" I blinked, stunned by his ferocity, his tenaciousness. I hadn't a single suspicion that he was as bent on comforting me as he apparently was! "But you'd have to drive all night!" I protested, too weakly.

"That's okay, I can handle it," he even managed to sound cocky about it, and despite my tears and the raging grief within I was smiling too…that is until he spoke his next few words: "I can always pick up some sake to give me that zestful zing or something, you know, keep me awake…?" I could hear his smirk right through the phone, clear as daylight.

"Don't you dare! If you didn't crash on your way over here and die then I'd kill you once you got here."

"Yea, I love you too Mom." He chuckled, and immediately I snapped my lips closed. I hope he knows I couldn't ever do anything like that…if I did then I'd really be alone, not to mention I'd be a murderer…I shook the ridiculous thoughts off and cleared my throat.

"You just be careful, okay Souta? Drive safe…and don't rush…promise me?" I felt my heart constrict a little, remembering my mother and husband, how easy it was for lives to be snuffed out…a simple trip to get groceries, a tired trucker, trying to switch the radio station, crossing the centerline…lives destroyed…

I blinked the tears away, "You do promise me, right?" we'd always been skittish of cars since that accident. I took the bus to work myself; living in the midst of Tokyo makes it easier to get around. The bus stops are so close together that almost every corner will pick a waiting woman up. Part of what had made me feel so terrible about Souta's absence was that he was so far away, and that he drove to get from place to place.

I sensed him rolling his eyes, "Yes, Mom, don't be such a worry wart. I'll be there before you know it. Go to sleep for a while and, hey, when I get there, be ready, we'll clean out the shrine, how about it?"

He couldn't have known how much that reminded me of his grandfather, my father. Despite the pain inside I smiled and said, "Sure, you and I both know it needs it!"

"Okay…" I sensed his mood softening, and I felt more tears—where did they all come from!—springing to my eyes, "Mom, I love you. Never forget that. Gramps loved you too, and Grandma too…and Dad." Souta had been far too young when the accident occurred to remember his father properly, but he knew—because I reminded him every so often over and over as is a mother's habit—that he both looked and acted just like his father. Light, cheerful, playful, kind-hearted and just a bit immature…yes, a lot like his father, who I missed so much…

I tried to blink back the tears and to hide them from my voice but I knew it wouldn't work, "I love you too Souta—but you protect yourself, okay? You're—" I choked on my own words, "—all I have now…"

"Naw, you have that vicious Siamese, what's his name? Atashi? Alli? Atkins…?"

I laughed, despite myself, "Ashi, Souta, and I know you know that, because you named him!"

"Yea, I remember," he chuckled, "He has the coolest eyes, blue like…" he stopped himself, but not soon enough. We both immediately soured, the unspoken name hovering between us, for all the trouble it caused it might as well have been screamed…

"Yes, I know." And I hated it. I hated seeing that beautiful Siamese's gorgeous blue eyes, glowing like marbles in his shadowy, whiskered face. I hated thinking about him…

"You know, Mom," Souta suddenly spoke, his voice nervous and tense, "I don't think that it's his fault."

"He can come through that well too…" I snapped, hating the roughness of my own voice, it didn't even sound like me, it was too bitter, too angry… "And he never came to tell us anything…"

"What if he couldn't?"

I blinked, the thought having never crossed my mind before. "Why wouldn't he?"

"What if he's dead…what if the magic that let them go through stopped?" I imagined him shrugging amiably as he spoke, "Anything could explain it."

"No," I refused to believe that, I knew full well what made sense when we were speaking about that wretched, most hated hanyou, "You have always hated thinking about him negatively, but you were so young still…" I sighed, prusing my lips, how could I get him to see? "Have you ever seen a man be so possessive that he'll beat the girl to scare her away from other men? Even if they're just friends, even if they're younger than she is, even if they're family…he might even become jealous of her female friends! You've seen that, right?"

I heard Souta sigh, hating the thought but knowing it was true, "Yes, but—"

"Well, that's the way Kagome told me he was. He loved her but couldn't admit to it. He hated it when she left to see us…"

"Mom, that's not true! Inuyasha loved us too!" he fairly shouted it into the phone at me and I felt my throat tighten, I had trouble breathing. He said the bastard's name…

Souta sensed his mistake, I heard him sigh into the phone, "Look Mom, let's not talk about it, okay? I'll be there in the morning…"

"Okay, goodbye Souta, I love you, drive safely."

"Yea, Mom, I will." And the line went dead.

I put the phone down I its cradle, moving in slow motion. Souta was angry with me, angry that I refused to see any other possibility short of the obvious: the hanyou from 500 years in the past kept my daughter, Souta's older sister, from ever leaving him. Ever. Thus she was effectively dead, living and dying 500 years from me and the rest of her family. Gramps and I had both believe the same thing: it was Inuyasha's fault. But Souta, who idealized Inuyasha from the beginning, refused, albeit silently, to believe that his hero, the great dog-eared hanyou, would be so cruel.

But reality doesn't paint things nicely, it doesn't spare our loved ones, or us, no matter how young or old or weak or strong, from its grim facts. People are flawed. They make mistakes. My daughter's mistake was that she fell in love, and tolerated, a half-demon's terrible behavior. And she lost her family, and likely, her life for it…for him. I didn't think she was deserving of such a fate. Thinking about it made my insides quiver with rage.

And there was nothing I could do. None of us could go through the well—in my desperation I checked with all of us, even carrying the cat to the bottom to be sure. But the truth was that only my daughter had the ability, only she and the hanyou had the magic…

I had always believed my father's thoughts on it—blaming Inuyasha and Inuyasha only. But Souta's points were possible…

Frustrated, I walked back up the stairs and set aside the scrapbook with its tortuous memories of a time long ago when everyone was happy, and no one was alone…instead I went to the bookshelf and grabbed one of my favorite books, sat on my bed and started to read.

Yes, if one couldn't escape their grief for at least brief moments their lives would become completely miserable. I read that romance novel until midnight, imagining the brave, stoic, handsome hero as Souta so that I could laugh at his success…yes, if only my son would marry and give me some grandchildren, then this house wouldn't be so empty or dark or lonely anymore…

The cat fell asleep in my lap, purring, a little mobile heater. The house squeaked and settled and clicked. And for a while, just a tiny little while, I forgot about the pain and the loneliness, and I knew, somewhere inside, that everything was going to be okay.

I wasn't going to be alone forever…


"What do you mean it didn't work?" Sango blinked as the schoolgirl climbed clumsily from the well. As her face reentered the bright Feudal era sunshine all of them cringed slightly, seeing the dried streaks of tears from her recent tears. The idiot, Inuyasha, was some feet away, barely recovered from his recent bout of "sitting" getting to his feet while spitting away dirt and grass from his mouth.

Miroku's staff jangled as he rested it against one shoulder, his fingers reached his chin and stroked, pensively. Sango risked a glance his way, and was immediately taken with the monk's gorgeous violet eyes, his cool, calm reserve, something that she, with her warrior's instinct, found very alluring. The monk was her opposite, and ye gods was it true that they were attracted! She burned with barely concealed anger when he flirted with a girl, while he, in return, left her so much space when there was another man in her life that she doubted he cared…it was all rather baffling, but at the same time intriguing and Sango hated to acknowledge it, even in the relative safety of her own mind, but she was crazy about him…

And at the moment she was noticing the little tuft of deep black hair that was trying to sprout like spring grass on his chin, and she thought with another blink, he and I aren't getting any younger… the little hair was a new appearance—a sign that he was banishing any last signs of adolescence. Men only got hairier with age after all…

She wondered absently if Inuyasha would ever grow anything like a beard—did inuyoukai and inuhanyou even get facial hair at all? She almost turned round to look at the hanyou in curiosity but at that moment Miroku cleared his throat, recapturing her attention.

"You have the shards?" the monk asked, eyeing Kagome critically.

The schoolgirl, now thoroughly out of the well, looked as if she would scream "Sit," to try and subdue Miroku for his stupid question, but she only frowned, "Duh!"

"Is that a yes?" Miroku asked, one eyebrow quirked.

Kagome buried her face in her hands. "This isn't happening…" she moaned.

From behind them Inuyasha made his trademark noise, "Feh," and crossed his arms sourly, "You'd better open your eyes then bitch—because I'm pretty damn sure that you sat me and jumped into that bloody well but you're still here, sadly…"

She looked up at him, flames dancing in her eyes, enraged. "SIT!"

Inuyasha splattered into the ground with a grunt of pain, his limbs tangled and twisted underneath him. "Bitch!" he spluttered through a mouthful of dirt.

"SIT, Inuyasha!" Kagome snarled again, and the hanyou was pressed with suffocating force into the dry dirt and grass.

"Okay," Miroku began again, "Let's try everything." He slowed his voice, as if talking to a child, "Kagome, please give me the shards."

She frowned, hands going to her hips, "Why?" she asked, incredulous.

"If the well refuses to work with them, then maybe it's choosing to work without them now…" when his lame explanation was met with skeptical glances by the two women and a confused kitsune, Miroku shrugged helplessly, "We have to try everything, ladies…"

On Sango's shoulder Shippo cleared his throat, "Ahem?"

Miroku blinked a moment and then dipped his head, acknowledging the kit, "And youkai," he murmured.

"That's better." Shippo huffed.

Miroku looked back to Kagome and held out his hand, the left one, not the right. He was rather particular with which hand he used in dealing with friends or important objects. He cradled the staff with his cursed right. His gaze on Kagome was sharp and expectant.

Although she thought it was stupid, and thoroughly hopeless, Kagome stepped forward and slipped the chain that held the mostly complete jewel from around her neck and set it into Miroku's waiting hand. The monk closed his fingers around it carefully and bowed slightly. "Thank you Lady Kagome." He gestured then toward the well, "Give it another try."

Sighing, Kagome turned and jogged back toward the well. She paused once again, gripping the wooden rim, her fingers bleaching white with her nervous pressure on them. Please, pretty, pretty please work for me! Please! I can't be stranded here, I just can't be…with a little hop she hurled herself over the rim and into the darkness. For a moment her heart lifted, she thought she sensed the well's magic encircling her body, welcoming her. She almost cried out that Miroku had been right…but then she landed on the solid dirt, and breathing hard with anticipation and desperate hope, she looked upwards…

And squinted in the sunlight.

No well house…no magic, no time travel…

No Higurashi family…

Fighting the tears of despair she climbed out of the well again, trying to look brave despite the fact that her knees were starting to wobble in terror. What if I am stuck here? What will I do? How can I survive…what will my family think when I never come back!

She pulled herself back out into the sunlight to see her friends gathered around Inuyasha, who was still sitting, arms and legs crossed, feet and hands hidden under his red robes. The hanyou's ears were folded back, his golden eyes flashed with anger and irritation. She barely managed to catch the last of what they were saying before she felt suddenly sick and a tremor in her fingers almost made her let go and plunge back into the dark, useless depths of the well.

"It's happened before then." Sango was saying, eyes on Inuyasha.

"Yes! But it wasn't the same that time! That time I took the shards from her and pushed her stupid butt down the well…" the hanyou looked a little helpless, pinned under all the stares of his friends, the monk, the demon slayer, Kilala and Shippo. All of them were accusing him somehow, and he looked uncomfortable. Inuyasha had tried to prevent Kagome from leaving or coming back before—was he responsible now somehow?

"And now she has the shards…" Miroku looked back over his shoulder and saw Kagome meekly trying to pull herself from the well. His face fell. "Well our first try failed—but that's nothing to be sad about!" his staff jangled merrily and he smiled, but it was fake.

Kagome felt as if she might throw up. This isn't happening. This just isn't happening. If I just try again with the shards it'll work, it has to…I can't be stranded here…I can't be!

"Inuyasha!" Miroku turned back to the irritated hanyou, who immediately sneered at the monk's tone.

"What now, hentai?" he snarled.

"It's your turn. Let's see if it will let you go through…with the shards first." He held out his left hand invitingly, the large, mostly round gem shined purple inside it, twinkling in is golden eyes. Inuyasha could feel it calling to him, could feel his demon powers humming to its call. He hesitated, his face blank but his soul squirming nervously. When Miroku pushed the hand closer to him Inuyasha forced a scowl of irritation to cover his features, hiding the fear that was buried in his amber eyes. His clawed hand snatched the necklace away, clutched it with an angry intensity.

They burned in his hand almost knowingly. Inuyasha… they whispered, promising power, but he steeled his soul against its call and rose to his feet, staring steadfastly pas the others, straight at the well.

Kagome was pulling herself out like a mindless beast, lost, dazed and confused. His heart tightened seeing her like that—where was the fiery girl that he loved? That damned well had better work for her…

He leapt forward, not bothering to do what the mortals had to with their weak, simple legs. He covered the distance in one jump, landing a foot shy of the well's rim where Kagome was floundering. He stretched out the hand that wasn't clutching the jewel. "C'mon, bitch," he whispered, and despite his words his voice was soft, "Take my hand, I'll help you out…"

She looked up at him, her eyes dark with emotion, dark with pain. He wanted to look away but couldn't bring himself to do it. The hand remained in the air, untouched, unaccepted…

And suddenly her face warped, twisted, until it became an angry snarl, a sneer that disgraced her beauty. The shock of it made him wince, like the sight of blood does to most mortals.

"You asshole!" she shouted, suddenly pulling herself out of the well, with seemingly no effort at all, "I don't need your help." They eyed each other viciously for a moment, and for the first time Inuyasha realized, with a jolt, that he could still smell her so acutely, still sense her emotions…and, just as he wondered silently about it one of her thoughts skidded lightly through his mind.

(I can't be stuck here without my family, I can't be! I can't be stuck here with him…)

He flinched and reflexively his hand tightened over the shards, and then it hit him anew—she wasn't wearing the damn gem…the Shikon Jewel's power has nothing to do with whatever's happening between us…

"What the hell are you staring at!" Kagome shouted, bristling with anger, her eyes screaming obscenities at him, her thoughts whispering inside his mind, too many to understand. He wanted them quiet, thought as much, and, abruptly, there was silence.

He closed and withdrew his proffered hand with a sneer of forced hate. She flinched with the suddenness of his movement and, although he sensed her emotions suddenly changing, mixing, like a puddle someone has stepped into, stirring up the mud, he stepped past her and leapt into the well.

The others, watching this scene, silently shook their heads in something between disgust and worry. Why couldn't Inuyasha and Kagome get along? Three years of life and death situations, three years of hunting the shards, three years of hunting and fearing Naraku, three years of "Sit!" and "Kagome!" but still they hadn't gotten past screaming insults. Still there was, particularly in the recent months, a tight tension between them both that Miroku and Sango understood quite well themselves—but unlike their companions they knew how to remain civil. Inuyasha and Kagome couldn't seem to keep from biting each other's heads off. Attracted or not, there was no peace…

But this was the first time they'd seen it be so bad. Why were they at one another's throats? Kagome was stressed at the thought that she might be stuck away from her family—that was understandable. Inuyasha was probably still mad at her for sitting him. But he'd offered her help—something that usually made the girl happy and acted as a silent apology. But something was different this time…

Worriedly, Sango turned and nudged Miroku with her elbow. The monk blinked and looked away from the well where Kagome was peering over the edge of the well, searching the darkness of its depths with a frown. "Yes my Sango?" he purred, though his eyes only lingered on her a second before looking to the well again where Kagome was yelling in exasperation.

"It didn't work for you either!"

"No, it didn't, bitch! Duh!" answered Inuyasha's low growl.

"Asshole!" she shrieked, hands on her head, but Sango, Shippo, Miroku and even Kilala all locked their eyes on the schoolgirl's face, startled by the pain that was clearly showing there for a swift second before it twisted and became rage again. "Get your little doggy butt up here now so I can try it again!"

"Miroku," Sango whispered with a sad frown on her face, which the monk wanted to kiss away tenderly, but restrained himself, later. "If she's stuck here with us…with him…" her chocolaty brown eyes locked with Miroku's deep, handsome violet ones, "With no escape…" she gulped, "They'll kill each other."

The monk sighed. "I know it doesn't look very good my Sango, but…" he snapped his jaw shut, not sure what positive thing he could tell her, especially considering that the scene before him was growing steadily worse.

"Bitch!" Inuyasha shrieked, fighting with Kagome now that he was mostly out of the well. The schoolgirl had grabbed hold of his closed fist where the shards were kept and was trying to pry open his fingers. "Stop it before I—"

"Do anything and I'll say it!" she threatened, still picking his fingers open.

"Bitch!" he leapt from the well, pushing her away. Kagome landed in the dust, her small skirt flying around her, the brown of the dirt staining both the fabric and her legs. She squeaked with surprise and pain, both emotional and physical. Trembling suddenly bit her lip, her eyes tearing up. The dark eyes jerked his way, dangerously enraged.

"Inuyasha!" she shouted. The hanyou was some five feet away, the fused shards that formed the partially completed jewel dangling from his clawed hand. "Give me the fucking shards!" the moment the words escaped her mouth she looked slightly stunned, one hand hovered over her lips, as if confused. She'd never sworn so vehemently before, always been called a good girl…now what would her mother think if she could see her little girl now? She stared up at Inuyasha with a mixture of anger, hate, and pain.

The hanyou returned that gaze, except that his was laced with far less obvious pain. He refused to show her weakness, even though his stomach felt as if it'd shrunk to be smaller than his fist. Gods, I think I'm going to be sick…

"Say please, bitch…" he ordered, curtly, sarcastically. The shards dangled, sparkling before his face, bright purple and luminous. They still called to his soul, use us, use us…Inuyasha!

"Please, you asshole." She sneered.

Without hesitation the hanyou flicked the necklace toward her, and watched as she caught the trinket easily, pulling it back over her head. He avoided looking at her then, choosing instead to walk away, the expression on his face hard and cold. Miroku, Sango, Shippo, and even Kilala were staring at him, stunned at the hatred the former friends were throwing at each other. When he noticed their stares he snarled at them as a whole and shouted, "What the hell are you four staring at! I told you there was something wrong with the bitch earlier!" he pointed, rudely, back at the well and Kagome, who was still picking herself up from where Inuyasha had knocked her down.

There were tears streaming down her cheeks when she'd risen to her feet and was regarding the four neutral friends and the one big, stupid, rude, arrogant, jackass named Inuyasha. Before she could stop herself she raised one trembling hand, pointed her index finger like a witch casting a spell, and shouted in her teary, wavering voice, "You're my problem Inuyasha! You're what's wrong with me! I hope I never see you again!"

Inuyasha stopped mid step, glad that he was already beyond the piercing, accusing stares of Miroku, Sango, Shippo and even little Kilala. He really felt as if he were going to be sick. His eyes closed and he took a few laborious breaths…and then walked onward until he'd reached the edge of the trees. Then, without turning back, he leapt into their branches and disappeared.

In the meadow Kagome collapsed, as if her rage had been all that fueled her muscles, as if she were a boneless fish. Her hands covered her face as she started to openly sob in misery.

Stunned, Miroku, Sango and Shippo exchanged stunned glances. "This isn't any good for anyone…" Miroku muttered, his face grave.

"They can't fight like this…" Shippo whimpered, and before they could stop him the kitsune had leapt from Sango's shoulder and had crossed the meadow in little leaps and bounds. They watched as he clung to her feet and legs, rubbing his face against her bare skin there. To their surprise Kagome stopped sobbing for a moment to look at him before she scooped him up into a bear hug, lovingly, despite her grief. She started to sob anew even as little Shippo tried to comfort her.

"We've got to help the poor thing…" Sango whispered, shaking her head. Kilala Mewed at her feet, apparently agreeing.

Miroku's face was still tight, strained, and grave. "I'll speak to Inuyasha." His lips were pursed in utter seriousness.

Sango threw him a nervous glance. "What will you say? Wouldn't he just slash you to pieces for questioning his cruelty to the poor girl?" she frowned sadly at the truth of that word, cruelty. "You know, if they're going to hate each other it's just going to happen that way, we can't stop them…" And they used to be so civil with each other just a year or so ago…even just a few months ago!

The monk shook his head, slowly. "That isn't right. Think about it, Sango." His eyes, the huge, handsome violet eyes, locked with her own, holding her there just as if he'd nailed her in place, "They've been close, been with each other for three years, they've known each other longer than we've known them or each other…"

"I know, but…" she sighed, "Houshi-sama, can't you see that girl crying out there? What she said about Inuyasha is probably true for her. She's loved him for so long but that bastard can't get over that stupid dead miko…what's her name…" she frowned, fists clenching at Inuyasha's stupidity. How could he hurt Kagome so much, and so often for someone that's been dead for 50 years? "He doesn't care about poor Kagome the way she needs him to, and he never will…"

Miroku locked her gaze again, the violet eyes darker than usual, tinted with thought and emotion, "Rethink that my Sango, I'd bet you tonight's dinner that it isn't the least bit true."

The demon slayer looked as if she might slap him, "Then explain to me why he treats her like that."

Miroku almost smirked, "I can do that…" he raised one hand, held it perpendicular to his body, as if about to pray or cast a spell, "All men handle courtship differently. I am very open with my heart." He lowered his head slightly, hiding his grin when Sango rolled her eyes cynically.

"Yes, we all know that…"

"Yes, but Inuyasha doesn't think as I do—he doesn't even think like any human or even like any demon, but something in between—which is exactly what he is." His eyes became serious again, making her concentrate carefully, "I know little of inuyoukai customs or courtship rituals, but I'd say that, if inuyoukai are like other types of demons that I've studied, and animals for that matter, than they are likely to test potential mates using aggression."

Sango shook her head, considering but not yet accepting, "No, Miroku, not like that…I'm sorry, that was plain and simple hatred…"

"Yes, I'd agree that that was wrong, but think about Inuyasha's treatment of Kagome over the years. They've never really gotten along. Not like you and I. They pick on each other, particularly Inuyasha bugging Kagome. He refuses to accept food she cooks for him, berates her when she leaves for home or when she's late, or even when she gets sick…"

"That's just a lack of compassion." Sango frowned, unimpressed by the monk's theory now.

"But, if that's true Sango my dear," Miroku smirked now, about to drive his point home, "Then wouldn't we all be treated like that? Wouldn't he pick on all of us as he does Kagome?"

The demon slayer blinked, realization trying to settle into her soul, her bones… Miroku might just be close to some sort of hidden truth… she cursed herself suddenly for having neglected her training concerning demon culture. She'd always specialized more in killing the mindless monsters rather than the advanced types like wolf youkai, panther demons, inuyoukai…but such information wasn't impossible to come by…

She looked at Miroku, "What do we do then?"

Miroku shifted the staff from his right to his left hand, making it jangle almost cheerily. "Well first of all we comfort Kagome…I have a theory about this well. Maybe she has to wait a while between trips—she only just got back before she tried to return to her time again after all. Then I'll talk to Inuyasha and you talk to Kagome." He smiled warmly and his right hand, the lecherously cursed hand, came to her waist, rubbing restlessly over the curve of her waist and hip. Sango's face broke out in an immediate blush as Miroku spoke again, "I trust you'll be able to find out what's going on between them, dear Sango…"

"Yes…" she slapped him then, the crash resounding from off the circle of trees around the meadow. "Now if only I could figure out what's going on between you and I." She growled, quickly leaving him alone with his red, hand-shaped wound, muttering to herself about perverts.


Endnote: I broke the single digits! YAY! that was my goal! THANK YOU!

NefCanuck Thank you! The first to review! You've been a loyal and dedicated reader and reviewer, (bows) I thank you very much! SerenaClearwater sorry, I didn't know that it could upset you! I started another one b/c this idea wouldn't leave me alone and SWFM is almost over. I thought I could handle three, and so far I think I can...hope you warm to this one too! Ames-Chan Thank you! I hope to make it even better! The two plots, one in the present one 500 years ago will soon tie in and you'll be, I hope, glued... Gasert You wish is my command! And as Sango said here, she focused more on mindless demons, so right now the real expert is Miroku, but later she might come upon that bit of information, it would make a funny scene...(imagines it now) Yami-Yugi-GirlThank you! sarah Next chapter you start to get the first inklings of the answers to those questions...(winks) toxiclollipop yes, what IS with that well? (smirks) hehe...you got the right question Toxic (winks)... osuwariboy I hope that this time I can make you laugh a little more than last time eh? (realizes that last time the laugh count was none) you know how when there's a fight between friends or something, sometimes there's a mix of happy and sad in it? Like you can laugh at the stupidity of their fighting, or what they'd saying, but you're sadder and sadder as you realize that they're REALLY fighting. That's what I'm trying to paint here. Don't worry though, everything will (sorta anyway) work out well in the end!

I think I'm missing someone here but I don't know who...(pouts)...whoever I missed I'm VERY sorry! my email is swamped with reviews from SWFM and I can't sort through them all becuase reviews all look the same...(sighs)...no matter what story they're for they always come saying the same thing, you know? Review Alert! I can't tell without opening every single one...(sighs) and I need to get moving...but I do have time to find you a nice preview for the next chapter which is all about the past that time around...alot to tell there...less to tell with her mother and her brother...later there will be more though, (winks). Kay, a preview:

But somehow, Miroku remained calm and unfazed by her heated passion. "Fate chose to bind us together using those events." He intoned, unemotionally.

Sango wanted to hit him, she shook visibly with her outrage at the thought, "Miroku," she hissed dangerously, "How does fate plan to bring us closer together by keeping Kagome from her family?From her time?" Sango shook her head urgently, "She doesn't belong here! It's wrong!"

Kay, that's it, until next time, gotta go!