Author's Notes: Well, short and easy today, because for some reason I can't open more than one internet window, which is what I normally do for responding to reviews. I hope everyone is doing well. For those of you studying for exams, take a little break and enjoy the chapter. Then study, and good luck on exams! I hope you all kick some major ass! For those of you not in exams, I hope you enjoy your weekend.

Chapter Twenty-One:

Try Honesty

The fall season passed quickly for Kei and Fukou; too quickly. It seemed that one day they were purchasing pens for the start of the school year, and then they were getting ready to take their exams before the winter holidays. In that time, they had not been able to spend as much time together as they would have liked. Inuyasha and Kagome still had not returned from their visit to wherever it was that they had gone, and Fukou was still teaching classes, having completed all degrees to earn his black belt. The teaching left him often grumpy and moody as he wondered what he could have done better, or different.

Kei, for her part, ransacked her old memories, new and past life, for answers to his questions. She found, much to her surprise, that he was using all the old techniques, the ones that Sango and Miroku had used centuries before. The tactics and lessons they had used to teach hand-to-hand combat didn't seem out of date to Kei, and so she wondered what exactly it was that made Fukou feel their old system of teaching wasn't useful still.

Before she could wonder more on those questions, though, the time seemed to fly by, and school and lessons interrupted her thoughts. Rather than wondering about how to make Fukou become happier and open up to her more, she found herself plotting ways to maim or hurt Ikigaru. Despite the seemingly serious relationship Ikigaru had with Neji, she continued to flirt with Fukou. Fukou, as busy as he was with school, practice, teaching, a relationship with Kei which seemed to be on pause, and keeping house, was so out-of-it at these times that he didn't even notice Ikigaru. Kei wouldn't have minded so much that Fuu ignored Ikigaru's advances, if he wasn't also at time also ignorant of her.

During one of the few dates they had been able to schedule and actually have time for, they were halfway through their dinner when he suddenly seemed to zone out, leaning his cheek on his hand and staring at her. Kei stared back, putting down her chopsticks. "What is it?" He didn't answer her, he merely continued to stare.

Kei lowered her face and began to eat again. She felt herself starting to blush, and tilted her head slightly, letting her hair fall between herself and Fuu to hide her blush. She heard the squeaking of a chair on the floor before she felt his fingertips gently pull back her hair, pushing it behind her ear so that he could see her face once more.

"Fuu …"

For a moment he looked disoriented, as if he wasn't aware of reacting so quickly to reaching across the table and revealing her face. Then he looked nervous, weighing the options of his words. Her face continued to darken as she watched him, finally noticing how close they were when she felt his breath on her lips and cheeks. He slowly smiled at her. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" she inquired, searching her green eyes and filling her heart with drowning hope.

"Don't hide your face when you blush," he said. He wasn't removing his hand from the side of her face. His fingertips moved slightly, tracing the outline of her ear and sinking into her hair. "It's becoming on you, and I love seeing it. It reminds me just how sweet you are, and how despite everything, all the fighting and the boyish things you do, that you're the sweetest girl I know, and nothing can ever blemish you, hold you back, or keep you in away way from… from simply being you, from being Kei."

Kei smiled at him softly and then leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips. "Thank you, Fuu." She demurely lowered her eyes as he sunk back into his chair, both of them still unsure as to what had caused the sudden outburst in Fukou. "That was very nice of you to say."

"Don't thank me for telling you the truth," he snorted, making Kei giggle. Her sullen warrior was back, but the smile on his face refused to go away.

She wondered often, after that night she'd made dinner for him, what exactly had begun to cause the change in Fukou. Unlike the incident which had made him more receptive to touching her with his right hand, she could think of nothing she had done to warrant being spoken to so gently. It never occurred to her that maybe her presence alone was enough to make him happy, and for the man she loved to emerge all on his own.

By winter break, they were both slightly stressed out. They had arranged a study date—just the two of them—for their science class, but by the time it had rolled around, neither of them had the energy to be able to study. They lounged instead in Kei's room, having idle conversation, and cuddling.

"Where are you going to apply?" Kei asked him.

"Dunno," was the answer. "But some of my teachers have been trying to encourage me to go overseas."

"Same here." Kei giggled, pulling out the ponytail which secured his hair and running her fingers through it. His dark hair was as soft and silky as fur. Instantly, his body relaxed more, leaning his head into her hand, and his eyes closed out of contentment. She smiled down at him, remembering the way Miroku loved to have her do that. He put up a good fuss, telling her that she was messing up his hair…

"You should stop that. You're going to mess up my hair."

For a moment, out of surprise, Kei did stop. Had it just been her imagination, or…

He butted his head against her hand, smiling, his eyes closed. "Never mind. Do it again. That felt really nice and relaxing." Her hand began to move through his hair again.

Slowly, she built up the courage to touch him more. Her hand stopped being confined to his hair alone. She gently stroked his neck, and his back. He sighed out of pleasure and relaxation, until she leaned over him, wondering if he was asleep. One eye opened lazily, and he grinned, grabbing her and wrestling her under him as she squeaked with alarm and playfully tried to wriggle away. His lips found hers and she surrendered to them willingly, her body quieting as their lips met and touched and parted repeatedly, nothing more than chaste, simple kisses. She loved those kisses. They were lighter than air, and impossibly soft, slow and innocent at the same time. They sent shivers down her spine and made her mind silence itself so quickly, it was like the shot of a gun.

As he kissed her, she thought about something, but then his lips brushed hers again and the thought was kissed away.

"You amaze me, you know. How do you do this?" She opened her eyes, licking her lips, and finding him staring down at her. Fuu's expression was so puzzled that it looked utterly adorable, and she had to try very hard not to smile at him. His arms braced on either side of her, she had to lay there and look up at him, her hands lazily tracing patterns randomly on his forearms.

"How do I do what?"

"This. How do you make me feel like this…"

"Like what?" she prompted again, becoming more confused.

"Like… never mind. It's silly, and it's not important." He quickly backed off, letting Kei sit up s he turned his back on her.

Kei had tried to reach him before he was ready to admit to anybody that he didn't have all of the control over himself when he was around her that he would have liked. She wasn't like other girls, where he had all the control in their relationship. He couldn't ignore the way she touched him, the way her body felt against his, the feeling of his breath or his scent, or the way she kissed him back because he truly did care about her. He really did like her, and that had given Kei power over him. When she was scared, so was he; when she was angry, so was he; when she was happy, which she often was, he felt like he was on top of the world.

She folded her hands in her lap, studying the profile of his back. She hadn't noticed it before, but his shirt wasn't actually black. His tight jeans were pitch black, but the shirt was actually the deepest color of green. 'Come to think of it, he stopped wearing all black just after we started dating. They are still dark colors, but they aren't all black…'

Sitting behind him, her eyes locked on his shoulder, waiting for him to turn, her question returned. "Fuu-sama?" she asked, and she thought she heard him shudder a little. Her question was once again deterred, this time by another question. "It really does bother you when I call you that, doesn't it?"

He nodded, but he didn't say why. With more caution and gentleness this time, rather than rabid curiosity, Kei inquired why.

"I feel like… like it separates us. It's like you're putting me on some higher level, and that it means I'm better than you. And that's not true. That's not true at all, Kei," he finished vehemently, turning around to look at her and finding her expression surprisingly neutral.

"Is that any different than you looking at me like I'm some kind of angel because I try to make you feel special, or important, or relaxed, or even just happy?"

"Yes, it's completely different!"

"No, it's not, Fukou, it's not different!"

Hearing his name silenced any response he had to her argument. She swallowed, calming back down. She hadn't been yelling, she hadn't been crying, she had just been… upset. She composed her thoughts, and then looked up at him again. It felt odd not to be touching him as she spoke. When she had been with Miroku, she'd always been touching him, just in little ways, whenever they had conversations. There was something about the way they would touch each other when they were having arguments, the tiny, quiet ones like the one she was having with Fukou, which seemed to impart the verity of their words with reassuring little gestures.

It was rather hard to imagine that someone hated you when they were tenderly brushing your hair away from your face, or to argue against them when their fingers were pressed against your lips.

"It's the same thing, Fuu. Sometimes, it's almost like you seem to be in awe of me just because I know what to say or do to make you happy, or smile, or relaxed, or laugh or… or whatever, and it's not true! It's not any kind of magic, or anything else like that. It's because I know you. I know you, Fuu. I've been by you since I was a little girl. I'm nothing special. I'm not some angel or some sorceress who's trying to take advantage of you… I'm just Kei." She looked away from him, taking a deep breath.

"And I am Fuu…Just… just Fuu," he answered. His wide green eyes were locked on her, on her face and her smile. She wondered if he had blinked at all from the moment she had called him Fukou. Slowly, he smiled back at her. He'd asked her when they started dating to call him by his nickname, but apparently she had forgotten. That was okay. He knew that there were things she asked him not to do and he'd forget once in awhile. "Just Fuu."

It wasn't until a few days later that she was able to get to the question she had meant to ask him that day. They were at school, just having finished the last tournament of that semester. Kei had gotten the bronze medal in the tournament, Fukou the gold. She was still smiling with pride for him, even when he was swarmed by his flock of female fans.

"Fuu-kun! That was amazing!"

"Fuu-kun! Where did you ever learn to fight like that?"

"Fuu-san! Would you mind if I took your picture and did an interview for the school newspaper?"

"Fuu-kun! Over here, Fuu-kun!"

By the time Kei had snapped out of her pride to be able to realize what the girls were shouting, the girls themselves were already being pushed aside by other girls. Kei was sad to see that she was able to assign names to the faces: Aya, whom Fuu had dated in his first year, for about two months; another girl who had fared somewhat worse and lasted for a month during winter break of second year… the list went on. Kei glanced at Fukou, and found he looked terrified when he was suddenly faced with this coalition of girls.

There was a tense moment of silence. Kei didn't know if the girls were ready to throw a kick at his genitals, or if they were going to start demanding when he was going to call them back.

Then Aya spoke up, sighing and sticking out her hand to congratulate, Fuu. "You're a dick," she said with a shrug, "but you're putting our school name out there and you are a good fighter. But if you ever take advantage of another girl like you did us, Fukou Aisowosukatsu, we're going to find you, and we're going to hurt you as much as you did us. Bye now!" she finished, cheerfully waving and walking away.

Kei had never actually noticed how many girls he had gone through in his middle and high school years. She arched an eyebrow, looking at him suspiciously. She had, secretly, occasionally wondered if he was just playing with her, but in the end she knew she had to trust Fuu. She had no reason to distrust him, after all.

When all the girls had cleared out, and they were home at Kei's house, lounging in front of the television and tending to bruises that they never told anyone about, she asked the Question. "Fuu?" He looked up from a large yellow bruise on his arm to face her. "Why did you date so many different girls?"

He was silent for a moment, thinking. He knew the answer, and he had a lie ready in a heartbeat. But he was too surprised to say it. No one had ever asked him that question before… really, he was rather proud of her for being able to come out and ask him something that was obviously a difficult subject for her.

"Do you want the truth," he asked slowly, looking back down at the bruise, "or do you want the lie?"

Her answer surprised him, and the gentleness of her voice caught him off guard. "I want them both."

"All right. If I were to lie to you, I would tell you that I didn't know what I wanted in a girl, and that I went through them all to find the one girl I liked above all others… and she was you."

Kei grinned despite herself. It was the typical, sweet, perverted answer that she had been expecting. Even though she knew it was a lie, it warmed her, because it was familiar. What warmed her more was the fact that he was going to tell her the truth, even though she knew she wasn't going to like it.

"As for the truth… well, you know what my father was like. All I heard from him regarding women was that they were weak, and cried a lot, and that they were vapid, brainless, manipulative things and that the only way to avoid becoming a woman's plaything was to grab power—all the power—as soon as possible. Otherwise, you would become victim to their tears, and be exploited by them, and lose all your masculinity… things like that. And I believed him.

"After you left, it was just my mom. That was the only female influence in my life, and Dad never picked on her like that. He never said: 'look, son, this is your mother, and she's weak'. He knew that it pissed me off when he tried to do shit like that. So he went after girls in general. And then when I did go to school and I saw girls… they were exactly what he told me that they were.

"The girls I dated were brainless, and spineless… and as much fun as they could be, kissing them and stuff, I hated them, because they weren't what I wanted. And then, all of a sudden, you came back, and you arrived like this… ball of energy. When you're happy, that's exactly what you're like, you know, even in my childhood memories. You're filled with this energy that I've never seen in anybody else before, and I love it… and the more I saw of that energy, the more I wanted it, the more I wanted to be able to hold it and say that's mine. Even when you're not energetic, I still wanted you. You just made me feel relaxed and accepted, just by being there, and I wanted that too. I wanted the fighter, the strength…

"I wanted everything I saw in you, because I didn't see any of the things that my father had talked about. If I did, if you did cry or you looked to me for comfort and I gave it to you, I didn't feel like I was less of a man for doing it. It felt… natural. Even if you were bawling your eyes out and you needed me to hold you, I would be happy, on some level. I'd be happy because you came to me… to maybe think that you needed me as much I needed you."

She was silent, staring at him as he looked down at his bruised arm. Kei was overwhelmed with what she had just heard. She was trying to sort through it, trying to make heads and tails of everything, but before she could, he said:

"I apologize if anything I've said made you mad. It wasn't meant to be an insult to you or anything…"

Kei had been about to tell him that she needed him back as much as he needed her, but his apology made her forget. Instead, she became concerned only with telling him, showing him, that his apology had been unwarranted. She leaned over, letting her fingertips brush his cheek. At her touch, he turned to face her. Kei kissed him softly, rather than saying anything.

It never occurred to her that maybe he needed to hear his words returned to him as much as she had needed to hear them in the first place.

"Nothing I do seems to be able to get to him," Ikigaru complained, leaning her cheek in her hand. Even when she was mad, she was beautiful, the sneering curve of her lips still becoming. She was lounging on a bed, running her unclothed knee against the smooth fabric. His hand reached out to gently stroke her hair and she curled around his muscular body, laying her head against his frame and slowly relaxing. "I don't understand it…"

Neji looked down at her thoughtfully. "What exactly have you been trying?"

"Complimenting him," Ikigaru answered, staring up at her friend. Her wide eyes, with their unending color and the long lashes, seemed innocent, completely detached from the frustration in her voice. "Touching him in little ways, like brushing the back of his hand when I walk by him. I try to make myself available for him." She grinned and stood up, kneeling beside Neji on his bed. She lowered her lashes slightly, her deep eyes focused solely on him. "And of course I gaze at him with open desire and need… only to find that he ignores me completely and instead he puts all of his attention to that little... that little she-male…"

Neji was only slightly surprised to actually hear a little growl come from Ikigaru when she thought of Kei. The hand laying on her back pressed a little harder, reminding her who she was calling names. "It's not Kei's fault. She's so good and honest and open, that Fuu is called to her, like… like a magnet. He's infatuated by her, because she so completely similar and dissimilar at the same time."

"And if they are so similar and attracted to each other, then why are you trying to break them apart?" Ikigaru demanded, bitter that she couldn't insult Kei the way she wanted to because of Neji's protectiveness.

"Because as much as he may like her and may be drawn to her, I felt what he felt first. I've liked Kei since I met her. It's not fair that he…"

"But then she chose him over you, Neji-kun," Ikigaru interrupted harshly, hissing with each stressed syllable. "Are you sure we shouldn't try to accept their decisions, regardless of our own feelings?"

"I won't see her violated by him!" Neji sharply answered, his voice rising slowly. "Fuu goes through girls like… like a sick man goes through Kleenex! When he's done with them, they are never the same! I don't want to see Kei be abused by his perversion and then left without him!" He slid off the bed and walked away, suddenly very emotionally tired. "Now leave me alone… I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Ikigaru was left alone, reclining on the bed, her pretty face finally starting to look sour. 'You go through girls just as badly,' she thought, her thoughts venomous. 'Why is this one girl different? You don't want her to be near Fukou incase he pollutes her, but I'm expendable, is that it, Neji? Well, screw you two. Two can play this came, you know. I'll see to it that I will have Fukou, and all you'll be left with is the check.'

To still be continued... whenever I have net access again.