Disclaimer: The characters of Inuyasha are owned by Rumiko Takahashi, but this story belongs to me.

Face in the Mirror

Assignment # 26:

Write a story that begins with this idea: You wake up one morning to find that the face in the mirror isn't yours. The story must be at least 500 words.

"Kagome is mad at Inuyasha, again" Shippo whispered to Miroku as he helped clean up after the evening meal.

"She is NOT!" the hanyou growled.

At least... he didn't think she was. He hadn't yelled at her all day, and she hadn't yelled either. In fact, she had been unusually quiet. That should have been his first clue that something was wrong. What was worse, she had been refusing to look at him all day. And THAT bothered him. A lot. He'd tried to catch her eye a couple times. Several times really. Even tried teasing her and making her mad... but she always glanced away.

She did, however, have that stoooopid homework book of hers.

Just great. It was probably another stupid assignment by her stupid teacher designed to make Kagome feel bad about herself. Or worse! It made her think about things that she really shouldn't be thinking of because there is no reason to think about them because they aren't things worth thinking about! He really hated that school.

What torturous horrible demented assignment did they decide to force her to do to make the rest of them miserable THIS time!

"I hardly think that the assignments are 'demented', Inuyasha..." she said a little crossly.

Oops.

Well... so what if he had accidently spoken out loud? Big deal! It WAS a torturous horrible demented assignment and the DO make the rest of them miserable! And he couldn't wait until she was done with school!

"Keh," he said instead.

She sighed a heavy sigh. He hated it when she did that too. It felt like he had somehow disappointed her. He could protect her from dangerous demons... but he could never really figure out how to protect her heart. He just wasn't good at that sort of thing. He was learning though... day by day. Kagome was teaching him, whether she knew it or not. One day... one day he would know enough that he'd never hurt her again. He'd be a good...

He glanced at her, then glanced away as he felt his cheeks begin to burn.

One day... One day he'd be a good mate. Someone she deserved and could be proud of. One day he'd know the right words to make her stop sighing. One day he'd know just the things to say to make her smile.

"These assignments are stupid."

The day, however, was not today.

"Inuyashaaaaaaaa..."

He grimaced.

"SIT!"

He snarled as Kagome stomped off and Shippo laughed down at him. It was difficult to hear over the kit's laughter, but he was able to pick up the question Sango asked Kagome.

"So, what is this assignment about?"

She told them. Then cheerfully said she was going home and cheerfully said good-bye.

Then they all went quiet and watched her walk away with her yellow backpack. Not a cheerful one among them. They all glared at him before ignoring him and going about their business.

Even after the spell wore off, Inuyasha stayed in his spot and sighed heavily.

What did this teacher have against him? Why were these assignments DESIGNED to make Kagome upset with him? Wasn't it difficult enough for him to prove to Kagome that she was his without not only their friends casting doubt every time Kikyo's name was mentioned (or anyone so much as catches a glimpse of a stupid soul stealer), but also some stranger in another TIME?

So what if Kagome happened to look a little like Kikyo... sort of. At first glance, maybe. But she didn't really. Heck, after the first time he caught her scent there was nothing about them that seemed remotely the same. Everything about her is unique! Besides, what Kagome looks like isn't who she is. She could cut her hair and dye it purple and it wouldn't change how he saw her. It is what is on the inside that draws him to her. Her heart.

Why couldn't he think of the right things to say that would make her see that?

"Feh," he said instead.

As the others began settling down for the night, Inuyasha started walking towards the well. Surely by now, Kagome would have cooled down. Her quiet mood made sense now. Comparing herself to Kikyo was just stupid!

Growling angrily at himself, Kikyo, and all the teachers out there who were DETERMINED to make Kagome feel bad about herself, he jumped down the well.

Oddly, Kagome met him at the door. Smiling. It was disconcerting. She didn't seem angry... but sometimes she would smile even when she was about ready to blow up. Or blow things up. He followed her in and her mother greeted him warmly and made him welcome. Kagome's kid brother dragged him to the living room to show him his new video game. Her grandpa reminded him that the house was warded against evil demons, so he better watch his step.

He didn't ask her to go back. Honestly, he was a little afraid to. Besides, he liked being here sometimes. He liked being a part of her family.

"I'm going to bed," Kagome announced right after dinner. "I'm exhausted."

"Are you going to school tomorrow?" her mother asked.

She glanced at Inuyasha, then said, "Yes."

"Feh."

Letting her go back to that horrible school went against his instincts. But he didn't want to fight with her. Not today. She went upstairs, and he went outside, saying he'd sleep in the tree. The fact that there was a pillow and a folded up blanket on the floor by Kagome's bed let him know that her mother knew exactly where he would really be sleeping. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone.

Sometimes it bothered him that he was taking her away from the safety and security of her time. He felt guilty for taking her from her family. But he couldn't let her go either. When the jewel is completed, he promised himself, I'll bring her back if she wants. We'll live in whatever time she wants to.

While she slept he allowed himself to think about the future. It wasn't a luxury he allowed himself often. But watching her sleeping so peacefully, he couldn't help it. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, and smiled when she sighed.

Then he saw her homework notebook. He picked it up and read.

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I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror. At first I didn't understand what I was seeing. I put my hand to my face, and the girl in the mirror did as well. It shouldn't have been so startling, but it was. After all... I didn't recognize the girl who was looking back.

One girl has soft hands with painted nails. Hair brushed to a glossy sheesh. Perfumed and powdered and ready to start another school day. She smiles as she thinks about homework and boys, about going to the movies with friends.

One girl has hands with scars, nails bitten short. Hair a bit wild and a little ragged, like it hadn't seen a pair of scissors for a decent trim in a very long time. There was a nose sunburned and peeling, a scar on a shoulder, one on the belly, more perhaps, but I don't look too hard for them. I think I'd rather not know.

It is the eyes, though, that are so very different. The first has innocent eyes. But not the other. Not her eyes. Innocence has long been forgotten. Hers are eyes that have seen blood and pain, battles won, battles lost, and death.

I watch as she flips her hair and fixes her makeup. She smiles at a friend who walks in and they talk about boys. She talks about her date last Friday, and that they were going out this Saturday too. She just KNEW that he was going to ask her to go steady. They talk about homework and make plans to go to the mall and shop for new outfits. There was a new perfume she was dying to try on.

Dying to.

I remember using that phrase, just like the girl in the mirror. Like, if I didn't get this certain album, get this perfume, or if the guy in front row didn't like me then I'd just die. That if I didn't get some chocolate soon, I'd just die. But then I saw death. And I knew that perfume and chocolate may be wonderful things that can make me happy... they certainly won't be the cause of my death.

There are monsters and demons just waiting in line for that particular honor. But I fight.

The fighting is hard, though. Some days I don't think I'm going to see tomorrow. Some days I just know it is going to be my last. Luckily, that hasn't been the case... so far. But how many close calls can a person possibly have?

I look at the girl in the mirror in her clean clothes with her polished nails and neatly cut hair and wonder what life might have been like had that been me.

Would I value each day the way I do now? Would I be thankful that I was given the gift of life? Would I rejoice in the feeling of the sun or the rain or a nice cool breeze on a hot day? Would I embrace each day with a prayer of thanks and a determination to make the day count?

Yes, I fight. It's hard and painful and filthy and makes me tired and sore. But I don't fight alone. I have people by my side. Strong people. People who have loved and lost, and have the courage to still fight... and hopefully to love again. People who I love dearly, and with all my heart. I'm proud they are in my life, and I'm proud to fight by their side.

And even on the bloodiest, most terrifying days, I would not trade my life for the life living on the other side of that mirror.

For a moment she looks at me. And I think she sees me too. I wave goodbye to the girl with the innocent eyes, and I go back to the fight.

And I'm grateful for the day.

Word Count: 651

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"Why did it make the teacher cry?" asked Inuyasha as he walked Kagome home from school. He wasn't surprised that she wasn't surprised to see him. After the second softball that was headed her direction during her sports class disappeared, she did yell out 'sit'... twice. And so maybe a couple of the guys who were hitting on her ended up somehow stranded on tree tops, she didn't have proof. Though she was a smart one.

Kagome looked around before whispering to him, "The teacher thought that I was being clever and speaking as if the demons and monsters were the illness (she made odd motions with her fingers when she said "illness", though he wasn't sure why) that I battle. She's nominating it for some award."

"Awards are good, right?"

Kagome sighed, "Well... yes... but I feel bad about it. Those demons are real demons, not illnesses. There are people who really are sick who are fighting every day to live. And it makes me feel like a ... a liar... and a fraud..."

"But you didn't lie. You do fight demons."

"Yes, but thats not what she thinks. And I hate that I'm lying."

"Did you ever say it was because you were sick? I thought it was your grandpa who calls you in sick. Doesn't that make him the liar?"

Kagome paused. Then she smiled at him in a way that made him feel like he just single handedly took down Naraku.

"Thanks."

Her story had made her nervous when he read it. He had felt so guilty that he had ruined her life. It killed him that he was the reason she had lost the innocence of never having seen death, or having had to kill. Kagome should never have had to live the way he had been forcing her to live all this time. But she said she wouldn't trade it. She said she was happy. Well, maybe not in so many words, but it seemed like she was. Or was she just happy to not be dead?

He wanted to talk to her about the story. Especially the end... the part where she said that she loved them. He wanted to ask if he was included. But in a way... not... Did she think of him the way she thought of Sango and Miroku? Or did she think of him... well... the way he thought of her? But he couldn't ask.

"Let's get back," he said instead.

It lightened his heart that she smiled at him.

He would make this up to her. He wasn't sure how. But when all this was over and Naraku is finally dead, he would make sure that Kagome would never regret that she was on this side of the mirror.

Author's Notes: This was an actual prompt from a creative writing prompt site that I happened to run across. I thought it sound fun, and pretty appropriate, and since it was the one I landed on out of nearly 350 prompts, I figured it was meant to be.