Disclaimer: you know what I'm going to say...

A/N: Well I had another wild night...so I'm posting again. Hmm...interesting pattern, eh? I really love this answering you reviewers directly. It is really awesome...Kay, off to explaining this chapter. The beginning is a humorous tale of Miroku in a brothel. Well it starts off sorta humorous. You'll see. The chapter is named after Miroku's "favorite" woman in the brothel. The second part is initial Kagome-IY interactions after her sickness. I'm trying to demonstrate Inu's slight change in behavior now. He's like unabashedly...well you'll see. As usual I feel like I sucked this chapter, which has been happening continuosly with college now and with my...eh...romance? I don't know what I can call it. He was like tickling my shoulder and stroking my thigh when no one was looking at the party, but yeah, lips are sealed. Someone hit me for treating this thing like a journal, please! Anyway, other notes, other notes...No Mrs. H in this chapter. I had too much else to do. and Mikata means "Ally" in Japanese. You shall see just why as you read. Anyway, read on! Read and review! I'll answer any and all questions! I LOVE email from you guys!

Mikata

"Ah, Houshi-sama!" the woman's crooked-toothed smile leered up at the warm, gentle face of her visitor. "Couldn't stay away, could you?" she cackled, scooting away from the entrance to allow him through.

Miroku cleared his throat uncertainly once as he ducked inside. His hands were tucked together, hidden in his sleeves as Inuyasha often stood when he was trying to be aloof or quiet. Between the circle of his arms his golden staff jangled merrily. "Lady Kyoko—I came merely for the pleasure of seeing such beautiful ladies, such as yourself—and of course to enjoy your company."

She chuckled once, gruffly, but her smile when she glanced at him was genuine. "You old liar. I know exactly why you come here often enough for me to know you."

"Who am I to argue with such wisdom, Lady Kyoko?"

"Hah! And don't you dare forget it, Houshi-sama." She smirked for a moment longer before finally turning and gesturing for him to follow. "I'll call the girls, I'm sure they'll just love seeing you again. You're our most handsome customer, you know."

Smiling gently, Miroku followed her into the depths of the building until he entered the sitting room, with its low table and the cushions scattered about. Kyoko watched him sit down silently, and then, still smiling, hurried away with small, dainty woman's steps toward the staircase. A moment later and Miroku winced as her high, shrill voice called out the names of the prostitutes that called this building home.

"Mikata! Come downstairs now! Yakumi! Down here! Keisei! Come down here and entertain Houshi-sama! Houshi-sama's here!"

The stairs creaked and thumped, high, twittering feminine voices rang out through the air. Kyoko grinned over at Miroku, sliding over to sit across from him at the table, her eyes sparkling. The girls appeared, each of them with their eyes wide and round with surprise.

"Houshi-sama!" they chorused together, three of them immediately settling onto the cushions nearest to him, grinning and blushing.

As one young woman sat beside Miroku, the monk bowed briefly, mumbling an apology. "I'm afraid, my lady, that that spot is reserved for Lady Mikata."

"But Mikata's so boring! Houshi-sama, she can't be your favorite."

Before Miroku could open his mouth to speak up in reply, a voice low and smooth rose from behind them and to their side. "Naomi, you know it's rude to speak to Houshi-sama that way." The speaker was a little older than most of the other girls that had come to flock around Miroku, but that alone was far from being her only distinctive feature. Her robes were more exquisite than the other women's, colored not a gaudy orange or pink, but bright gold and burgundy instead. And her face was smooth, perfectly round, giving her a sweet, maternal appearance. It was this woman that instantly drew Miroku's complete attention.

Shifting away from the table slightly, Miroku faced the other woman, bowing low. "Mikata, I am honored to see you again. I presume you are well…?"

"I am, Houshi-sama, and I am honored by your visit."

Mikata strode forward, using petite woman's steps, and yet at once exuding an unexplainable confidence and power. Naomi, the younger girl that had taken her seat, vacated the position quickly, the sheepish expression on her face looking very much like a puppy chased away with its tail between its legs. As soon as Naomi was gone, Mikata bowed once to Miroku and then took her seat, dipping her head to each of her younger companions surrounding the table.

The girls started to chatter for a moment, though Miroku remained mostly silent, his violet eyes merely taking in the twittering girls around him. Mikata stared at him intently, a sly twinkle gleaming in the depths of her deep brown eyes.

"What stories have you brought us, Houshi-sama?"

"Oh! Will you tell us more of the demons you travel with?"

"Houshi-sama, I was in the marketplace for Mistress Kyoko just a few days ago and I saw the half-demon you travel with running through the streets with a woman in his arms!"

There were gasps around the table. Only Miroku, Mikata, and Kyoko remained silent.

"What's going on, Houshi-sama?"

"Has the half-breed finally gone mad?" this last question was thrown out by Naomi from behind two hands that were raised in shock over her lips. It earned her nothing more than a stern glare from Miroku, which effectively silenced all the rest of the girls.

At length Kyoko finally cleared her throat and looked between her girls meaningfully. "I think perhaps it's time for us all to leave and get back to business. Everyone but Mikata, go to your rooms! You—Naomi and Tatsumi—go outside and advertise to the men. No laziness, girls! You had all better work or else there won't be any fish for you tonight!"

With groans and muttered disapproval, the girls rose to their feet, each bowing and murmuring their thanks to Miroku for his visit. Then each disappeared, either heading upstairs or out into the street. A moment later Miroku could hear their high, childish voices calling out, "You want a good time, sir? We're always willing…" he closed his ears to that familiar sound and the old desire it struck up within him and focused on Mikata and Kyoko gratefully.

"I thank you, ladies. You honor me…"

Kyoko gave a rough, cough-like laugh. "I just like you, Houshi-sama. You've always treated my girls and Mikata with the greatest respect—no matter what you're here for. Go on upstairs, I can see your impatience in your eyes." She grinned, showing yellowed, crooked teeth mischievously.

"Yes ma'am." Mikata bowed briefly and then reached wordlessly for Miroku's hand. She led the monk slowly up the creaking stairs and through a narrow hall until she rolled aside one of the sliding screen doors and knelt at the threshold, letting Miroku enter first. The monk settled himself in the center of the room, where a small table, low on the ground, held a teakettle, sake, and tiny teacups. Off in one corner there was a messy, thin futon. The room smelled of sweet flowers that were trying to cover the underlying stench of human sweat.

"I'm sure the tea is already cold, Houshi-sama, but if you wish more I will go and fetch it for you…"

"No Mikata, everything is fine the way it is." Miroku smiled slightly as he watched Mikata light the lamps in the room and close the door gently. "Come, sit, I have little time."

She obeyed, sitting on a cushion opposite him. "Is it the same question this day, or a different one?" she inquired.

"The same." Miroku's blue eyes met hers, and now the two revealed their true identities in the deepness of their stare. They were conspirators, intellectuals, thieves, and survivors.

"I'll make you pay a little for it, you know, Houshi-sama." Mikata's eyes narrowed carefully, indicating her seriousness.

Miroku leaned back slightly, appearing to relax. "Of course, my lady. I have…" he reached into his robes, the movement making his golden staff jangle musically, and held a small dark colored pouch lightly. He let it plop onto the table and smirked slightly when he saw Mikata's eyes grow wide at the sound of currency inside. "…just a little money to spare."

"Houshi-sama," she shook her head, eyes flicking from pouch to the monk's smirking face, "Have you been scamming villages again?"

"Of course. You know me too well, Mikata."

She laughed once before she snatched up the pouch of money and pushed amid the folds of her own robes. "Good, then payment is settled. I'll tell you anything I know that can be of use to you, Houshi-sama."

"Tell me what they say about Naraku. Where is he hiding? What is he planning? Why haven't we seen him lately?"

Mikata darted her eyes around the room briefly, avoiding direct contact with Miroku. "He is scheming. That demon is always trouble. He wants the Jewel back."

"None of that is new, Mikata." Though Miroku's tone was casual, both of them knew he was irritated with her general answer. "Tell me how he plans to get it. Tell me where we can find him and kill him. Now that he's lost most of the Jewel it will be an easier task, correct?"

"Defeating Naraku will never be easy, Houshi-sama. You must never underestimate him, Jewel Shards or not." Mikata muttered, staring down at the table as if she was lost within her own thoughts. "But I have heard that he has managed to capture a number of the remaining Shards. He is very careful with them—you won't see them until he's dead."

The monk leaned forward, delving further into the conversation. "There is something I have wondered often. Can we use what power we have in the Shikon Jewel ourselves?"

"I don't know much about the Jewel—only that it is tarnished easily. You must keep it with the miko. Only the miko can draw on its power and not be corrupted, or so I've heard."

"But you don't rightly know…?"

Mikata scowled. "No."

Nodding solemnly, Miroku began his next question. "Tell me, Mikata, have you heard anything about the Bone Eater's well and something called time travel?"

Mikata pursed her lips, "No, I have not; I'm sorry Houshi-sama."

Miroku sighed heavily, pursing his lips. "You have nothing else of interest to tell me, Mikata?" his eyebrows lifted high when she was silent, hesitancy screaming at him in her every feature. Encouraged slightly, though he forced the feeling to remain hidden, Miroku slammed his hand, palm up, to the table. "Well, if that's the case, my lady, I must ask for a refund…"

"No—that's not all!" Mikata scooted back from the table and rose to her feet to pace behind the monk. Miroku listened to her heavy tread with a smirk that he was glad she couldn't see.

"Well then, what is—"

"I have a customer." She began, sighing, "He only comes in once every few months. This man works as a spy for Naraku. He applies himself to samurai lords, working for them and learning a few of their secrets—secrets he says Naraku knows only other humans can learn. Then he reports them to Naraku. That is how Naraku knows best where to hide, and when he wishes more land, he uses these secrets to his advantage and destroys the samurai lord. This man last visited me a week ago. He said something concerning Naraku's plans, but I thought them strange and inconsequential to you and your group until I heard Yakumi say she saw your companion—the half demon—with a woman in our streets…"

Miroku turned in his seat, trying to hide his confusion and at once battling his eagerness to simply know whatever it was that troubled Mikata. "Yes, what young Lady Yakumi saw was Inuyasha trying to save Lady Kagome, the miko that travels with us. I've told you about her before."

Mikata nodded, staring directly at him. Her unwavering gaze unnerved Miroku, and uncertainly, he lowered his eyes, clearing his throat in the awkward silence as he waited for her to speak. At long last when she was still silent and motionless, he prompted her with, "What did this spy of Naraku's have to say?"

"He is a spy, Miroku. I cannot even trust that he is not trying to have me destroyed for Naraku. If this plot is true and you come to know of it and foil Naraku's plans, he'll know I've been in league with you…"

"I see." Miroku scowled, his tongue tasted bitter abruptly. "Perhaps you are being paranoid, Mikata. I mean no offence, but you are a woman in a brothel, not a mistress of a rich man. He likely unburdens his thoughts on you because he feels you are too foolish to understand them. I know that when you work with your clients you put on a performance, Mikata, a very, very good one, if I may say so myself…"

Mikata shook her head. "He knows it's only an act. I can tell. And he never calls on any of the other girls, and never gives me a reason why he favors me, never compliments me like the other men do even if they never mean it. It's strange. Any other man would…"

Though she appeared genuinely concerned, Miroku restrained a sigh. If there was one thing prostitutes knew how to get from any man, it was more money. Reluctantly, Miroku fished a hand into his robes and produced another pouch of currency. "Perhaps this will assure you of your safety?"

Mikata glanced over her shoulder at the proffered money and hesitated. Her fear was genuine, Miroku realized, but so was her love—and need—of money. Money was freedom, and freedom was all that the intelligent and beautiful Mikata thought of. In a quick motion she snatched the money in the pouch and tucked it away into her robe. Her jaw was squared fiercely when she lifted her eyes to him a moment later.

"Tell me about the half-demon you travel with. What's his name again? Dog-wind? Dog-spirit? And the miko woman, what about her? Are she and the demon—" Mikata choked on the words, her expression a mixture of bafflement, worry, and disgust. "Are they intimate?"

Miroku tried to cover his amusement by smoothing his robes. His staff jangled with his subtle movement. "I do not know that for certain, Mikata. Let me say that they share great emotion for one another. Why do you ask? You have never thought toask about my companions before." His brow creased with his gathering worry, "What did this spy say?'

"He said Naraku had a plot to destroy a certain half-demon that had been troubling him for many years, but it wouldn't involve weapons. It would be hinging on the half-demon's mate." She began to pace slowly, her arms crossed, her back to Miroku's stern face and tense position. "I wouldn't have remembered it at all except that I had a client once who was a demon exterminator. He told me a story of how he once killed a very aggressive male demon by killing its weaker female mate. He said that madness drove the creature to an easy death at his blade because its grief made it weak and sloppy in battle. He thought he was brilliant, I thought he was a heartless bastard."

"I have heard of this phenomenon a little myself." Miroku admitted, keeping his gaze locked on the floor, "But Lady Kagome and Inuyasha are not mates…"

He felt Mikata's gaze on him heavily, like a sack of bricks. "Not yet, you mean."

Grimly, pursing his lips, Miroku nodded. "They have loved each other for years, Mikata. If what you say is true, that will now be used against them." He sighed, frustrated. "How am I supposed to tell them to stay unattached to one another?"

"The spy seemed to think it was inevitable. He said Naraku knew how to push the half-breed's buttons and get him to respond just the way he wants…"

"Don't call him that."

Mikata blinked, taken aback. After an awkward silence she spoke, "What…? Have I caused offence somehow, Houshi-sama? I did not mean…"

"Never mind." Miroku waved a hand at her and rose stiffly to his feet. His staff jangled the whole way up. "I think I must be leaving. My…keeper will be sure to realize soon that I'm gone."

Mikata's eyebrows shot into her forehead like rockets. "Houshi-sama has a…keeper? I never would've thought such a thing!"

Wincing and turning his back on her, Miroku headed slowly for the door, unwilling to speak another word on the subject of his keeper. Mikata followed him, stepping in front of him to slide open the door. Miroku stopped her, placing one hand on her arm. She looked up at him with a perplexed expression, blinking as if the sun had caught in her eyes.

"You're sure this spy was telling the truth and speaking of my friends?"

Frowning deeply, Mikata turned back to the door and slid it wide open with a cracking sound. "What other half-breeds have caused Naraku so much trouble for so many long years?"

Behind her Miroku sighed and followed, stepping out into the hall. From the room next door a chorus of moans could be heard. Miroku stared at his feet as he walked by, determined not to let the sounds stir a response from his body…but Mikata's backsides, swaying in her robe seductively, were a temptation he couldn't resist.

The monk reached out his cursed right hand and hurriedly, as if fearing the inevitable slap as reprimand, and cupped Mikata's right butt cheek.

"Houshi-sama!" Mikata burst into girlish giggles, assuming her prostitute's act immediately. When she scampered a little ahead of him and glanced back teasingly over her shoulder, her cheeks weren't even the slightest bit pink.

Oddly Miroku felt no pleasure at this. The whole experience felt strangely empty without the sting of pain from one of Sango's slaps. Yes, he realized with a quiet but pleasant jolt, who would have thought that Houshi-sama would have a keeper?

But he couldn't doubt that it was reality, it was completely true.

I said no, dammit! No means no!

The hanyou scowled across the futon at the smirking miko. The twinkle of mischief was in both her warm brown eyes and inside her mind. It came across to him through the link as a sort of tickle that felt like bubbles foaming and caressing his soul. It made him want to grin like an idiot—but he refused to allow her to see they way her feelings could so easily sway his own.

The healer, Isha, was back in the room with his assistant, Maribi. They had insisted on giving Kagome a thorough examination before they even considered letting her get up even to go to the bathroom. Isha insisted that stress would send the girl into sickness—though she seemed perfectly healed from the toxins. Though the leg that had been bitten was still bruised and discolored, it seemed unlikely that Kagome would retain anything short of a few miniscule scars. Her fever had vanished, leaving her bathed with dried sweat. Her leg was caked with blood and the harsh herbs that still tingled her skin where Isha had applied them.

She wanted to take a bath, and she was begging the hanyou to take her for one…but Inuyasha was anything but willing. He agreed with the doctor and didn't care particularly if she smelled like sweat or herbs. In fact her sweat put his senses into a heightened state—likely her pheromones were teasing both his mind and body, bringing him to the very beginnings of desire. He ignored such reactions of course, and refused to give them thought. Instead he focused on being angry and irritated.

There were many, many reasons for him to be irritated, after all. There was the fact that Isha had come in that morning and discovered Inuyasha in a compromising position—curled around Kagome like a husband or a lover and sleeping like a dead man. Then he'd woken Inuyasha and insisted that he leave Kagome alone while he examined her. That implied to the hanyou that there would be exposure involved, and the very possibility that the healer, another male, should even consider viewing some private place on his Kagome's body, made Inuyasha's blood boil. Kagome's assurance that nothing bad would happen hadn't eased his feelings on the matter at all.

In the end the examination was done with Inuyasha in the room, crouched on the other end of her futon, glaring between the miko, the healer, and the assistant Maribi.

"The recovery in your tissues is remarkable." Isha murmured, sounding as if he were actually talking about something dull and boring rather than a miraculous recovery. His hands gently poked and touched on her leg around the bite wound, but he watched her face for discomfort as he worked, searching for spots of pain.

With each wince from Kagome a growl erupted from Inuyasha, only to be choked off as the miko silenced him with a glare.

"Yes," Maribi agreed, and unlike Isha she did sound awed, "She should've died with such a bite and such terrible poison…"

"What was that?" Inuyasha snapped, eyeing her the way he might look at a poisonous insect that needed to be squashed.

"Oh, I was saying—" Maribi was interrupted when Kagome spoke up, clearing her throat loudly.

"You should just say it was nothing." She warned; eyes flicking nervously to the hanyou, whose stance, though he was still sitting and crouched, had tensed up significantly. There was a brief crack of knuckles being popped.

Inuyasha! Would you stop it! They're going to think you're some kind of animal! She enforced the reprimand with a glare, but it was short lived as she changed subjects swiftly. I really need that bath Inuyasha…

Feh! You'd better get used to that futon. You're not leaving it until I can't smell the venom anymore.

She scowled, a tinge of indignant anger spilled over from her mind to his. I'm fine! I'm not a baby you know!

Unaware of the silent conversation, Maribi and Isha continued to examine and prod Kagome's wound, speaking mostly to one another as they marveled over her recovery and tried to decide whether Kagome really could be freed from bed rest. At length Isha lifted his eyes to the distracted miko and cleared his throat, which did absolutely nothing to regain her attention. He began speaking anyway, hoping against hope.

"Uh, can you walk on this leg? If the muscle is still intact can it bear your body weight?"

I said no! You're not getting a bath today, wench. He curled his lip slightly, emphasizing the silent message.

You can't tell me what to do, dog-boy! Inuyasha noted that there was only a small amount of real annoyance, though her facial expression lied and said otherwise.

The hell I can't! If it weren't for me you woulda died that first time you ran into the centipede demon. I killed it, remember?

Kagome's glare and mindset abruptly darkened. And then you tried to kill me for the Shards…

His ears—and his whole expression—drooped immediately. Kagome…

Isha touched Kagome's arm, drawing her attention sharply away from the hanyou. "Can you walk for me? Will your wounded leg bear weight?"

"Yeah, I think…" cautiously, Kagome started to push herself from the futon. Maribi and Isha stood with her, taking the hands she sent out to them seeking support. Inuyasha growled; ears lowered unhappily as he regarded the scene. He nearly leapt the space between himself and Kagome, grumbling the whole way.

"I'll do it, dammit! Get outta the way!" roughly, Inuyasha pushed away Maribi and Isha, only to move those same brusque, clawed hands a microsecond later to Kagome's side as transformed tools of careful, gentle, and controlled care.

The healer and Maribi watched, the healer looked on impassively, seeing only Kagome's legs and how they moved and how accurate her balance was. Maribi, meanwhile, held her hands before her face, hiding her satisfied smile.

"I can walk on my own Inuyasha." Kagome mumbled, trying feebly to disengage herself from the hanyou's guiding and supporting touch. She thrust her chin outward in a stubborn motion, taking two steps around the futon on her own power shakily. Inuyasha hovered over her, grumbling irritably like a frustrated mother hen.

You're going to hurt yourself—stupid stubborn bitch!

She wobbled briefly as she turned to throw him a meaningful glare. The silent exchange continued unabated.

What is your problem, Inuyasha! Hot tears tried without any real warning, to invade her eyes. She turned her face away from the hanyou, struggled to hide her emotions, though she could feel him pressing at her through the link. She stumbled and her legs collapsed underneath her, too weak after her recent ordeal to support her just yet. Inuyasha's strong, warm arms caught her, and in a moment, though she slapped futilely at his shoulders and hands, she found herself swaddled and held like a baby in the hanyou's lap. A few rocking jolts later and she sighed, staring up from the futon at Maribi and Isha, who were staring at her with tense, awkward expressions.

"Perhaps it is just a little too soon, just yet." Isha said, nodding once. His eyes were pointed at Inuyasha, not Kagome. "I trust you will be her primary caretaker in her recovery?"

Snorting, Inuyasha didn't even bother answering the old healer, but Kagome felt his arms and his hands squeeze her tighter, more protectively. Again, though she wasn't sure just why, she felt the press of tears in her eyes. What was wrong with Inuyasha holding her? Why did she feel as if she should be angry with him for something he'd done or said…?

A memory floated up to her through the maze of her mind, so recently clouded by pain and illness. It as Inuyasha's voice broadcast through their link: 'Do you think I care? I don't. You want to leave? Then fucking leave!'

She stiffened, a mixture of pain and confusion rippling over her. Maribi and Isha left, but she hardly noticed their departures. Only the slap of the door sliding shut made Kagome realize that she was once again alone with the hanyou. She swallowed the lump in her throat, restrained the sigh, and forced the memory away. Inuyasha had spoken rashly, and she knew it was anything but true. His arms around her were proof enough. They were always fighting, always running away from the truth. Why should she battle with him when she could feel his devotion? Why should she strike up an argument and bring herself down when she could remember the previous night, while in the midst of her sickness Kikyo had come and Inuyasha had—he'd said…

It returned to her, hazy like a dream, the hanyou's words to her just before Kikyo had left the world once and for all, letting her soul rejoin and complete Kagome's. She could see in his eyes, in his face, a warmth and depth that she'd seen only rarely before. Inuyasha, so stiff and awkward when it came to his own feelings, for once revealed his heart, shining out to her that night.

"I choose Kagome." His words still echoed in her mind, like a dream come true. She felt, for a moment, that perhaps she had in fact dreamed it all in some feverish delirium. Uncertainly she wriggled her fingers once, touching first her own skin and then Inuyasha's robes. She reached for his mind tentatively, calling his name.

Inuyasha…?

Suddenly she felt Inuyasha's hot breath on her scalp, climbing steadily downwards to her ear and her neck. She couldn't resist the shudder of pleasure that passed through her body in response to his warm, moist breath and his close proximity. His thoughts floated to her by way of the link.

I knew you didn't need any damned-stupid bath. Just stay here, you're still sick. Poor weak-bodied human after all…

Kagome realized with a jolt that despite his façade of gruff feelings and frustration, Inuyasha was deeply troubled. Only seconds ago she'd wanted to ask him about the night before, to compare her memories to his. But now she realized that her hanyou was in the wrong mood for it. Something was troubling him, deep inside. She reached, searching for the reason, but caught only images that were scattered and faint, wisps and impressions of what might have been dream or memory, there was no way to tell them apart.

Inuyasha…? She fed him her concern, letting him see how worried she was about him, but Inuyasha's mind shied away even as his arms tightened around her.

Go to sleep Kagome, rest. I'll protect you.

She spoke aloud, "But—"

I said no baths, wench! Don't you ask me again!

Forcing her way over his thoughts, Kagome interrupted his spiel of haughty irritation, finally interjecting her question. What's upsetting you so much, Inuyasha?

That you won't sleep like I tell you to, stupid woman!

"Jerk." Reluctantly, Kagome burrowed her face into the comfort of his fire rat robes, sighing wearily as her body became steadily heavier with the progression sleep takes over the mind. In a moment she was breathing deeply and regularly, fast asleep inside the circle of Inuyasha's arms.

As her mind faded and the connection between their minds fuzzed over, sending only the lightest impressions of warmth and comfort, Inuyasha finally relaxed and let his eyes drop down to the sleeping girl, cradled against his chest. Slowly, with infinite gentleness he touched her hair, and then her cheeks, her closed eyes, lips and chin. The warmth in her smooth skin was relief and assurance, but also a stark reminder of what he'd almost lost forever.

He'd felt her thoughts as they went from remembering his horrible words that had forced her away to be bitten by the snake demon in the first place and then to her hazy, feverish memories of the events that had saved her from the venom. But he didn't want her to trouble herself over it, and he didn't want to face the realities of it himself. There could be no doubt any longer. She was his mate, his responsibility, his lover, his second-half. Watching her suffer had taken a lot out of him, and it was a terrible reminder that she was mortal. She would die before him, simply because her biology—her cells and her very genes themselves—dictated it. Facing the possibility of her death, and of living without her in his life, Inuyasha could hardly breathe.

Weak-bodied human…his thoughts tortured him, taunted him. Kagome would die someday, long before him. Even now, in her prime as a young woman, she was frail in the face of the many dangers she faced daily. He would protect her from everything he could, but he could never protect her from time. It was the one enemy that had always taken her from him. Sometimes it had simply been the well that had taken her away, through time, but now it was time that sealed her away from the safety of the future and her family, and time that would one day destroy her and leave him alone.

And yet he couldn't lie to her or to himself or to anyone or anything else ever again. It was in everything he did, everything he said. They were mates and there was no longer a way to deny it.

The hanyou settled his cheek atop Kagome's head, sighing and slowly closing his eyes, shutting out the world around him. All of his worries would just have to wait until Kagome was strong again, strong and rested…and then, just maybe, he could make her happy…

Even if he could never find a way to get her back to her family in the future.

That's all I got for now guys...later!