A HUGE thank you to my beta sabina-san (aka sabinasanfanfic on Tumblr) for your help on this chapter!

Here's chapter 20. Enjoy!

(Edit: had to fix some spacing with the italics bc this hell site decided to fuck it up... sorry if you read it before I fixed it...)

Quotes:

"To begin with, take warning, I am surely far different from what you suppose;"
–Walt Whitman, "Are you the new person drawn toward me?"

"Courage is about learning how to function despite the fear, to put aside your instincts to run or give in completely to the anger born from fear. Courage is about using your brain and your heart when every cell of your body is screaming at you to fight or flee—and then following through on what you believe is the right thing to do."
–Jim Butcher, Ghost Story

"I'd like to fix that now, and tell you the truth—all of it."

"About?"

"About me."

Kagome could tell she was making Rikuo edgy from how rigidly he sat on the sofa, his eyes tracking her fidgeting and restlessness like a predator watching its prey. If she hoped to ever put them both at ease, it was probably best to quit pacing.

She sat down on the opposite end of the couch and wrapped her arms snugly around her calves, hugging her knees to her chest.

Here we are and I'm finally ready to tell him everything, and I have no idea what to say first. "I'm sorry… I don't really know where to start," she said, voicing her thoughts out loud.

Rikuo shifted to face her, his brows forming a deep V over brown eyes dark with concern. "Well, I can't help you there, blue eyes, but I can tell you that you're kinda worrying me."

Fan-fucking-tastic, Kagome. Well done making this more uncomfortable than it already was.

"Am I? Sorry." A stray strand of hair tickled the back of her neck, and she brushed it away distractedly. "This is just really hard, and I know I'm not making any sense at all…"

"Is this about…us?"

Us? The question, combined with the faint unexpected note of insecurity underlying it, caught her off guard. "What? No, why?" I guess in theory, yes, but I doubt that's what he means. What does he mean though? And what does he mean by "us"?

Rikuo averted his gaze, his casual shrug incongruent with the stiffness in his spine. "Uh, I guess… Well, the, uh, whole 'we need to talk' thing… Just wondered if maybe you regretted what happened last night… Or if you're seeing someone else, or…"

"Oh…" Kagome chuckled awkwardly. "No. No regrets, at all, and no, I'm not seeing someone else. Sorry for being so vague. I'm just…" She breathed in deeply and blew it out slowly. "Nervous."

Some of the tension left Rikuo, and he brought his gaze back to hers, giving her a slow smile. "I'm glad there's no one else. I've no intention of sharing you…"

Her stomach fluttered, although a small part of her wondered how she could even tell, given that it had been roiling and agitated for hours. I don't want to share him either. And in spite of all her earlier insistence to herself, to not get in too deep before he knew the truth, she had to know. "So…are you, um, seeing anyone else?"

The look that he gave her then sent a wave of happiness through her while simultaneously impaling her heart with an icepick. Don't, she thought frantically. Don't say those words. Don't go there, please. You can't. You don't know who I really am…

Fate evidently opted to take pity on her, for instead of a confession, all Rikuo said was, "Only you, blue eyes. Only you."

Kagome closed her eyes, drawing on all the courage she had and had once had. The bravery of a girl who traveled to the past and stood unflinching in the face of danger. You can do this.

When she reopened her eyes, Rikuo was watching her, his earlier apprehension having returned somewhat, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Look, the reality is there's no easy way to explain this, and it's going to seem like I'm nuts, but please, I'm begging you. Just hear me out." And that probably didn't help him relax any…

Rikuo nodded slowly.

Shifting her legs, she sat cross-legged, pulling a throw pillow into her lap and clutching it to her chest. "Are you familiar with the legend of the shikon no tama?"

"Somewhat, mostly what you've told me when we talked about your independent study."

Kagome didn't know if his superficial knowledge would help or hinder her in this. She took a deep breath, steeling herself as she let it out. "About that… There's a reason that's my focus. You see…when I was fifteen… No, actually, hang on. Let's start at the very beginning. In case you weren't aware, the shikon no tama did, in fact, exist. Do you know the story of how the sacred jewel came to be?"

His posture gradually relaxing, Rikuo lifted one hand and cupped his chin, thinking for a moment. "No…I don't think so, and I know you haven't mentioned it. Like I said, I really know the tale only in passing, not specifics." He gave her a crooked grin. "Guess I should've let Kōga tell me his stories when I was there the other day."

Kagome's eyes widened, and she gulped in air. "Kōga?" She tried to keep her voice even—she didn't know for sure it was her Kōga he was referring to. Right, keep telling yourself that…

"Yeah, he's a wolf yokai, part of the Nura clan. According to Kōji—his grandson—he met the shikon miko back then." Rikuo paused, grin still in place. "Maybe when I take you to Tōno, we can go by the wolf clan's place."

Oh, holy hell, it was her Kōga. She tried to return his smile, but her anxiousness made it difficult. His smile faded, and he leaned toward her, placing a hand on her knee. "Or not. It's completely up to you, okay? No pressure."

"It's not that, it's just… I…" No. Don't go there yet. One step at a time. "Well, I'll get there. So, back to the creation of the jewel."

She explained about Midoriko and the birth of the shikon no tama, and then how many years later, the jewel was discovered by a yokai taijiya, who subsequently entrusted it to Kikyō.

"Kikyō was a miko who lived in a small village just outside Edo… My family's shrine is on the site where hers was."

Rikuo raised an eyebrow, as if to say "I assume that's important," but he didn't interrupt.

Kagome continued, telling him about Kikyō's ability to purify the corruption in the sacred jewel, how yokai everywhere lusted after the jewel and the power it represented, and how one particular hanyō named Inuyasha wanted the jewel, initially so that he could become a full yokai. As she told Kikyō and Inuyasha's story of love and betrayal, and that of the bandit Onigumo who became the hanyō Naraku, her chest ached, literally and figuratively. She shut her eyes and paused for a moment, rubbing her palm against her heart.

Fingers brushed the knuckles of her other hand, which was gripping the pillow in her lap tightly, and she opened her eyes to meet Rikuo's worried gaze. "Oi…I won't pretend to understand the significance, though clearly this is important. But I don't want you to feel forced to tell me… You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Kagome exhaled harshly. "No, I do. I want to, and I need to. But…thank you."

He nodded and sat back so she could continue.

Well, here goes… A surge of determination to put all the falsehoods behind them overrode the gut-churning anxiety she felt.

"So Inuyasha was sealed by Kikyō's arrow to the Goshinboku, the same one you saw when you visited our shrine."

"The inu-yokai sealed to the Goshinboku that your grandfather mentioned?" Rikuo asked.

"Heh, the very same. I'm going to assume jii-chan didn't mention he was only sealed there for roughly fifty years or how he got unsealed. Anyway, per Kikyō's request, the shikon no tama was burned with her remains. It disappeared for nearly five hundred years—I'll get to when, and where, it reappeared in just a second. On my fifteenth birthday, while looking for my cat Buyo, I went into the well house—do you remember that from when you visited? The Bone-Eater's Well?"

His eyes narrowed fractionally. "Yes. And…don't take this the wrong way, but it seemed like there was more to the well than your grandfather was letting on."

She couldn't help it—she laughed. An ugly, bitter thing utterly bereft of all humor. "Very perceptive. He most certainly was hiding something. You see, on that day, a massive centipede demon was revived by the power of the sacred jewel, and she dragged me down into the Bone-Eater's Well with her. In doing so, she launched us back in time to the Sengoku Era, not that I realized it right away. Hence my stupid random-ass question about time travel last night."

Kagome stopped speaking and pressed her face into the pillow she held, unable to look at him, not wanting to see the disbelief in his eyes when he didn't believe her. Scrunching the pillow with her fists, heart pounding, she waited for his objections, the ridicule, or perhaps even anger that she would concoct such a ludicrous story.

"And?"

She snapped her head up. "What do you mean, 'And'?" Does…does he actually believe me? A tiny sapling of hope sprouted and unfurled its leaves within her.

"I mean…" He spread his hands wide in a helpless gesture, giving her one of his half grins. "What happened next?"

The blossoming hope gave way to incredulous joy, and she gaped at him. "I…" Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to speak. "I'm… I'm sorry. It's… To be honest…I wasn't sure you'd believe me. Kinda expected you to think I was nuts, actually. We're talking godsforsaken time travel, Rikuo."

Rikuo's expression softened, and he scooted closer to her on the sofa. Taking her hand in his, he laced their fingers together, squeezing hers slightly. "Kagome, listen to me. I told you last night—after all I've been through in my own life, I'd be a fool to discount the possibility of something like time travel. So, unbelievable? Not exactly. Is it weird? Hell yes. But so is the fact that my dad's first wife's body was used to reincarnate Hagoromo Gitsune…"

Say what now? It took a second for his statement to register, but before she could even think to ask, he'd already begun speaking again.

"More importantly, this is you. Why should I doubt you? What on earth do you stand to gain by lying to me about something like this?"

He believed her.

Rikuo actually believed her.

Her whole world spun, and her throat tightened, vision blurring. Then she smiled, a shaky giggle escaping her. "Thank you. Thank you…so…so…much." She sagged against his shoulder as the burden she'd been carrying was finally lifted and dizzying relief rushed through her. I feel as weightless as if I were one of Kagura's feathers. Holy shit.

"I'm…" Happy tears welled up and spilled over despite her attempts to blink them back. "Sorry, I—" she choked out, but Rikuo cut her off.

"You've nothing to apologize for. I'm sorry you thought I wouldn't believe you. Tissues?"

"Kitchen." She gestured vaguely in the right direction, and when he released her hand and got up, presumably to get the box of tissues, she pressed her hands against her face, willing the damned tears to go away. Okay, you made it past the first hurdle. Still more to go. Don't get giddy just yet… And knock it off with the waterworks. If you fall apart now, you'll never get through the whole thing.

The sofa dipped, and she glanced up as Rikuo held out the box of tissues. "Thanks." Once she dried her eyes, the entire time still smiling like a damned fool, she said sheepishly, "Sorry…"

"Oi, oi, what did I just say about that?"

"Oh, right, I'm so—" She stopped when he looked at her sternly. "Shit. I'm trying, okay?"

"I know. Hey, uh, not to get ahead of things too much, but all this isn't by any chance linked to your curse, is it? Ryūji might have mentioned something about it."

"Of course he did…" Asshole. Kagome wrinkled her nose. "But yes, it is related. I'll get there…eventually."

"And the hanyō, Inuyasha? I don't suppose he's the one you mentioned your grandfather met?"

Kagome startled. She had forgotten that she'd mentioned that Rikuo wasn't the first hanyō her grandfather had met when they'd been studying at the cat sanctuary. She nodded. "Yes…he was one of my best friends…" An understatement… "And at the risk of sounding repetitive, I'll get there."

Rikuo chuckled and leaned back against the sofa. "Understood. I'll shut up now."

Kagome resumed her tale, and when she got to the part where Mistress Centipede bit her, ripping the shikon no tama out, she lifted her shirt, showing him the silvery jagged scar on her abdomen. "It didn't scar as badly as it could have, considering the wound was treated in the sixteenth century." She smiled slightly, thinking of Kaede.

"A yokai did this to you?" To her surprise, Rikuo seemed angry, his jaw tight, hands fisted in his lap.

"Yeah. Obviously not a very nice one." She shivered at the memory. "Anyway, I didn't find out till a little later, but the reason the sacred jewel was inside me is that apparently, I am…was Kikyō's reincarnation."

"What?" His eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I'll explain that in more detail in a bit." Her stomach lurched. She wasn't especially looking forward to revisiting that experience. Nor all the emotions she'd felt back then when it came to Kikyō and Inuyasha. You're okay, Kagome. It's all in the past. Literally…

She kept going, pausing briefly when she got to the part where she had tied the carrion crow's leg to the arrow and wound up shattering the jewel. The old guilt bubbled up inside her again. If only I hadn't done something so stupid. There's no telling what could have been avoided if I hadn't broken the damn thing.

Her internal self-denigration must have shown on her face because Rikuo frowned. "You had no way of knowing it would break. Personally, I think it was rather clever."

She shrugged. "I certainly thought so at the time, right up until it splintered into a bajillion pieces. I still feel responsible for so much that happened because of those damned shards. Anyway, as I guess you can figure out…because I felt guilty and was responsible, I wanted to help fix it… Thus beginning the journey to find the shards and repair the shikon no tama." She blew out a breath. "Which makes me the shikon miko. Yippee."

Rikuo stared blankly at her for a moment, then shook his head, giving a low chuckle. "You know, I've known you were special ever since we met, but I can honestly say I did not see that coming. The shikon miko."

"Yup!" She gave him two thumbs up and a brief forced smile. "That's me. The legendary priestess. Hard to believe, right?"

"Not as hard to believe as I think you expect. Still…that's…pretty damned impressive. So…does that mean I should call you Kagome-sama?" he asked with a playful grin.

The corners of her lips curved downward, and she dropped her gaze to her lap. "Please don't. Please. One of my friends from then…Miroku, the hōshi, he…"

"I'm sorry, blue eyes. Probably not the best time to tease… Forgive me?"

She felt his hand against hers, the barest featherlight touch, as though he were offering it in apology, or perhaps for support but didn't want to be pushy. It occurred to her then how much she had missed physical affection after so many years of—literally and figuratively—holding people at arm's length.

She put the pillow in her lap aside and took his hand, entwining their fingers before looking up at him. "It's fine. You couldn't have known. Anyway…where was I? Oh, right, the jewel had just shattered."

Kagome talked and talked. And talked some more. From Yura of the Hair—whose name, for some reason, amused Rikuo—to the black pearl in Inuyasha's eye and his father's grave, her pulling out the Tessaiga and Inuyasha whacking off Sesshōmaru's arm. To meeting Shippō, and how he eventually became like a younger brother to her, to Urasue kidnapping her and resurrecting Kikyō, and in the process tearing out a chunk of Kagome's soul.

"Hold up. She took a piece of your soul?"

Bile inched up her throat, and Kagome swallowed thickly. She took a sip of her water before replying. "Yeah… It was…unpleasant." An understatement.

The stunned expression Rikuo wore might have been amusing in another context. "Did you get it back?"

Undesired memories sprang to the forefront of her mind. Kikyō's death. Her own helplessness. Inuyasha losing his mind with grief before collapsing, Kagome holding him as he broke down and sobbed. The shadows that never left him afterward, the emptiness in his eyes.

"Um…yes. I did." She didn't add that she suspected she'd lost that piece again when she made her wish to revive Kikyō.

She told him about meeting Miroku and Hachi, losing her chronological train of thought momentarily as she described Miroku's penchant for women and some of his misadventures because of that. Then on to them fighting Sesshōmaru again and their first encounter with those fucking saimyōshō, to the first of many of Kikyō's reappearances and Inuyasha's preoccupation with her. Meeting Sango and Kirara, explaining her and Kohaku's tragic backstories.

"Kirara?" Rikuo interrupted. "As in the name of the kitten at the cat sanctuary?"

Kagome felt her face grow warm. "Yes… It's silly, but the kitten resembles Kirara a lot. Minus the whole being a yokai and two tails…and red eyes. Okay, so 'a lot' is a stretch. It's not an exact resemblance, but—"

He put a finger over her lips. "Stop. It's not silly at all. I was just curious if that was where her name came from."

"Oh." Defensive much? Reliving her time in the Sengoku era as she told Rikuo had her emotions all over the place, and she knew, mentally and emotionally, she was as hypersensitive as an exposed nerve. "Sorry."

She got a tight squeeze to her hand in reprimand, and she smiled. "Sorry for saying sorry."

Rikuo swiped a hand through his hair, making her think of his yokai form and that impossibly long hair, hair she longed to touch. Save it for later, idiot. Focus.

"Oi, blue eyes. You're missing the entire point! Quit apologizing already. Besides, I should apologize for interrupting. Please, continue."

And so she did. When she got to the part about how she met Kōga, and that she suspected he and Rikuo's clan member were one and the same, Rikuo's jaw dropped. "You're kidding. Kōga? Eastern ōkami clan Kōga?"

Kagome nodded. "Blue eyes, black hair in a ponytail—well, at least that's how he wore it back then—fangs, pointy ears. Followed around by Ginta and Hakkaku?"

"Sounds like him. I don't know Hakkaku, but I do know Ginta. Shit, now I'm definitely regretting not hearing his stories!"

Kagome's heart fell a little at his comment about Hakkaku. It doesn't necessarily mean what you think it means. Maybe he moved somewhere else, went off to do his own thing…

"So he had a thing for you, huh? Wanted to make you his woman?" Rikuo asked, a glint in his eyes.

Kagome groaned. "Oh no… No. Stop that. I dealt with enough of Inuyasha and Kōga's bickering then. Besides, you've nothing to worry about…he…doesn't remember me."

"What are you talking about? He remembers you."

"No…he remembers the shikon miko. A priestess. Not me." She sighed. "It's skipping ahead quite a bit, but I guess I better explain my curse so you understand why I say he doesn't remember me specifically. Spoiler—all the shards get found and the jewel made whole again and we defeated Naraku. Afterward…"

When she'd finished explaining about the wishes and her bargain with the shikon no tama, it was more than she could take. She'd spent going on two hours already talking about her past, ripping open old—albeit poorly healed—wounds, and even though she wasn't close to being finished telling him everything, even though Rikuo believing her filled her with both relief and joy, her tenuous hold on her composure shattered. Head bowed, she clenched her hands, fingernails digging into her skin, biting her bottom lip to try to contain the sobs that shook her body. It was a pointless effort.

Even after all these years… Gods, why does it have to hurt so damned much?

Strong arms wrapped around her, and impulsively, Kagome turned toward him and buried her face in his chest, clutching his shirt in her hands, needing that physical connection. A reminder that, no, she wasn't as alone as she felt.

Rikuo ran a hand down her hair and back in soothing, rhythmic motions, remaining blessedly silent and letting her get it out of her system.

When the sobs gave way to sniffles, she released his shirt, scrubbing her face and burning eyes with a forearm, and tipped her head back to look at him. "I'm—"

His brows furrowed. "Don't you dare apologize."

She glanced at his shirt, which was soaked with her tears. She gestured at it. "But your shirt—"

"Will dry. Damnit, Kagome, you're allowed to be upset about this. Hell, I'm upset about this for you. I am so sorry. I can't imagine what it would feel like to not only lose my clan, my friends, but to also know that if I did see them again, they wouldn't remember me."

"Yeah…" She took a shuddering breath, hating how pathetic she felt by being overwhelmed by her emotions, how vulnerable telling her story made her feel. "It was…is…hard."

"'Hard'? Tch. Why do I feel like that doesn't even remotely come close?" He cupped her cheeks in his hands briefly, eyes searching her face. "Hey. This…what you're telling me. You've never told anyone, have you?"

"Well, my family knows about the time travel and about part of the curse, me being forgotten and the well no longer working. And I sort of told Natsumi a little about it…but only the forgetting me aspect …I was too much of a chicken to tell her the whole story. So…yeah, I guess you're the only one I've told the actual truth to. Or almost, since I'm not finished yet." She smiled wryly.

Rikuo smiled back, a gentle curving of his lips unlike his usual cheeky grin. "I know I need to let you finish. And I will. But…"

Suddenly she found herself crushed against him, his arms tightening around her, and he kissed the crown of her head before resting his chin there. "I'm not saying I have a clue what the things you've gone through feel like. But…as far as the keeping secrets, living a double life…I get it, I really do. Same with…" She heard an audible swallow. "Same with the thought of outliving your family and friends."

"Natsumi-chan said she thought you might," she whispered as she looped her arms around him.

For several moments, neither spoke. For her part, Kagome began to relax as she listened to his heart beat and breathed in the scent of him, the same wood smoke and sakura she'd noticed the night before mingling with the salt from her tears. She found the smell—his entire presence really—soothing, and as emotionally exhausted as she already was, combined with not having eaten since breakfast, she knew if she weren't careful, she'd fall asleep.

As if on cue, her stomach growled. Loudly.

Awkward.

Rikuo's resulting laughter vibrated through her, and since he couldn't see the small grin on her face, she poked him in the ribs and feigned indignation. "Um, excuse you. Rude."

When he only laughed harder, she added a spark of reiki to her poke. His yelp made her snicker.

"You're evil."

She leaned back to look at him, well aware she probably looked completely unrepentant. Or just a hot mess from all the crying… "Perhaps. Or perhaps that's…hmm… How might you put it? Oh, right. 'Anti-miko yokai propaganda.'"

His lips quirked into a half grin. "Nice. So, propaganda—of any kind—aside, how about we figure out something for dinner and then you can finish." He thought for a second and said, "Want me to go pick up something? Maybe oden? I don't mind…"

Kagome clasped her hands together in front of her chest. "Really? Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

Roughly an hour later, Rikuo returned, takeout bags in hand, and Kagome bounced off the sofa. Woohoo! Oden!

He chuckled. "Hungry?"

"Mmmhmm. Thanks for going to get it."

"Of course. I really didn't mind. Plus…" He glanced at her. "It's your favorite, right? I thought you might need some comfort food, all things considered."

He remembered! Kagome's stomach did a strange flip-flop at the thought. "It is. Thank you." Then she did a double-take. In her excitement over the oden, she hadn't noticed at first, but now she saw that the Rikuo who had returned was decidedly more yokai in appearance than the one who had left.

At her inquisitive look, he answered, "Training."

Oh, right. He'd explained that before.

"And…I could get the food back to you more quickly," he added, one side of his mouth curving upward.

Her heart mimicked the somersault her stomach had done moments before. "Oh…" On impulse, she raised up on her tiptoes and briefly pressed her lips to his.

When she stepped back, Rikuo wore a look of surprise before smirking. "Well, hell, blue eyes. I should bring you food more often."

"Oh, shut up…" Kagome felt her face flush, and she cleared her throat as she motioned toward the bags. "Shall we?"

Food in hand, they settled back in the living room. As they ate, Kagome stole sidelong glances at Rikuo's hair, her fingertips itching with the rekindled desire to rake her hands through it. She didn't realize that Rikuo had noticed until they were done eating and he said, "Go ahead."

"Huh?"

He shrugged. "You've been eyeballing my hair ever since I got back. So either there's something in it, or you want to touch it. I'm guessing the latter."

Nope, that's not embarrassing as all… Oops. "Um…" Oh fuck it—he said I could. Scooting closer to him on the sofa, she slid her hand into the surprisingly soft white-and-black hair, scraping her fingernails against his scalp lightly before combing her fingers down the full length.

Rikuo gave a contented sigh, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. Then, he peeked at her, almost shyly, and said, "Can I just…"

His hands gripped her hips as he pushed her back on the sofa, and then, to her surprise, he laid his head in her lap. "Okay."

Kagome laughed. "I take it you like this then?"

His brow crinkled slightly, as pale pink dusted his cheeks. "Actually, I usually don't like people touching my hair. I mean, with Mom or Tsurara, I don't really mind because it's them, and it makes them happy, but with you…" He trailed off and then grinned up at her. "It's different."

His simple remark filled her with pleasure, and more than a hint of self-satisfaction. Take that, Rika.

As Kagome resumed the lengthy process of finishing her story, for a while she continued to run her fingers through his hair, the action giving her an outlet for the nervous energy coursing through her. Twice she paused to make hot tea to soothe her dry throat and increasingly hoarse voice, and several times her emotions overwhelmed her, and she had to take a break. Rikuo occasionally asked a question or two, but for the most part, he listened, his attention completely devoted to her. Which was helpful, for once she got going, the words just poured out of her, a deluge she wasn't sure she could have controlled even if she had wanted to.

Over three hours later, a little after ten thirty, she was finally done.

"So…there you have it. My past. The legend of a girl who traveled through time, unwittingly became the miko of legend, made dear friends and lost dear friends—human, yokai, and hanyō—all the while hunting for shards of that damned jewel. A story with magic and curses and betrayal…so many twists and turns, it might as well be fiction. Oh, and of course don't forget the whole 'save the world from the wannabe evil overlord Naraku' part." It came out more bitter than she had intended.

Am I bitter? Perhaps. Likely for more than one reason. At any rate, she'd certainly run the gamut of all other emotions throughout the evening, so why not add a few more?

Rikuo sat next to her silently for several minutes, perhaps processing everything—it was a lot to take in, after all—but the lingering shame and fear Kagome had felt prior to telling him the truth reemerged, threatening to drown out the relief. He believed her, yes, but what would he think of her now that he knew she was not only a liar but also a coward for being afraid to be honest?

"You've been through hell, haven't you?" His voice drew her out of her thoughts. "I wish you had told me sooner is what I'd like to say, so you wouldn't have had to cope all alone, but I get it… It's really fucking hard to reveal a secret like that."

"You don't think I'm…" She flinched when her voice cracked. "A coward or terrible for lying to you?"

"Kagome…" Rikuo's expression was pained, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. She curled into his embrace, welcoming his warmth to ward off the loneliness she had endured for so very, very long.

"I told you about the first time I went to Tōno, right? How my grandfather sent me to learn about Fear, to improve enough so I wouldn't die in Kyoto?" She nodded, and he continued. "Well, the reason I didn't know what amounted to basic yokai fundamentals, that most yokai learn practically as toddlers, was partly my grandfather's fault—for sheltering me after Dad died—and partly my own."

She listened intently as Rikuo explained how he went from a child proud of his yokai heritage to ashamed of it, and how that denial of such an integral part of himself led to an internal schism and having almost two personalities for a time. How he didn't really heal from that inner divide and become whole again until he had not only accepted his yokai side, but also his human side, plus finally telling his friends the truth about himself. "But until I revealed that truth, I did everything possible to hide my identity from my friends, even enlisting my hyakki yakō's help to conceal my secret. Was I terrible or a coward for doing so?"

"No," Kagome said, "but that's different."

Rikuo bent back to look her in the eyes, one eyebrow arched. "How?"

"Well, your friend Yura is an onmyoji, so obviously hiding it from her was to protect yourself and your clan. And with Kiyotsugu and the others, well, considering they'd originally doubted and mocked you for claiming to be Nurarihyon's grandson— Can I just take a second to say how stunned I am that Kiyotsugu started out as a staunch yokai denier? Anyway, taking that into account, I would have been hesitant to tell them myself."

Rikuo grinned. "And you can't see how that's not that different from your fear that you wouldn't be believed?"

Oh, that sneaky bastard. She shrugged his arm off her shoulders and crossed her arms. "Hmph. Maybe." But warmth trickled through her with his reassurance, beginning to melt the shame that had kept her frozen in fear, preventing her from showing her true self for too many years.

Without warning, Rikuo stiffened. "Oi… When did you say you returned, permanently?"

"Eight years ago, give or take a few months. Why?"

He looked poleaxed. "Fucking hell, blue eyes. That was you?"

What on earth is he talking about? Kagome cocked her head to one side. "What was me?"

"Roughly eight years ago—Tsurara could probably tell you precisely when—there was a massive random power surge, both reiki and youki. We investigated, of course, as we were worried it could've meant a resurgence of Seimei or the Hundred Stories clan. One of the things we did was visit the area the power surge seemed to come from—including a local shrine. Your shrine. When Tsurara and I went by a few weeks ago, she remembered it as the shrine from back then, and we thought it was strange, probably not a coincidence, but I don't know why I didn't think that the incident could've involved you…"

She'd had a connection to Rikuo since that far back? Shock filled her as Rikuo continued speaking. "Especially since we met your grandfather then—again, I don't know why my dumb ass didn't realize. He was extremely distracted eight years ago, apologizing and explaining that his granddaughter had been hospitalized and was in a coma."

She nodded. "Yeah, I was in a coma for about a week. Mama, Sōta, and jii-chan were all pretty freaked out."

"Well, obviously, and for good reason, too. Damn, I can't believe after all this time…" Rikuo shook his head in disbelief. She could sympathize, still stunned herself. "I have to ask, though—how is it that you're just now finding yokai? I mean, I'm assuming that's the case given your reaction last week when I told you I was a yokai."

Kagome averted her gaze, fidgeting with a tissue, tearing it into tiny pieces. "Well…I kind of avoided it. It all hurt so much, I just couldn't deal with it. So I didn't. I blocked out everything even remotely related to my time in the Sengoku period, and basically pulled an ostrich."

Rikuo snorted. "Ostrich?"

She shrugged. "Stuck my head in the sand and pretended nothing was out there and none of it ever happened. Wouldn't let my family speak of it. I kind of…shut down. Tried to be numb. For years. As much as I hate to admit it, it really wasn't until I met that asshat onmyoji friend of yours that I finally snapped out of it."

"Ryūji?" Rikuo frowned. "Tch. Meeting me didn't have any impact?"

She laughed and nudged him with her elbow. "Just because you weren't the boot in my ass to get me to actually see to what was around me doesn't mean you haven't affected me."

"That so, hmm? And how exactly have I affected you?" A slow smirk spread across his face.

Oh, he'd had an effect on her all right… She bit her lip. Holy hell, no one had any right looking as sinfully delicious as he did. Fuck, Kagome. He's a man, not a sundae.

Wrenching her mind back on track—and far, far away from any thoughts involving Rikuo and chocolate syrup—she elected to change the subject. There was something she'd hoped to do in the event that he believed her story, and it was as good a time as any to bring it up. "Can I show you something?"

"Of course," he replied without hesitation.

She knew it was a little silly, but for whatever reason, she felt this burning need to show him her Sengoku-era keepsakes. To share with him as much as she could. To be as open and honest as possible. She retrieved the lockbox from where she'd stashed it in her bedroom when she had returned from the shrine earlier, and he raised an eyebrow as she carried it into the room.

Kagome smiled. "You'll see."

She sat back on the couch next to him and set the box in her lap. Then, she scrolled the dials to the right combination and raised the lid to reveal the myriad items within. Rikuo peered over with interest.

With careful fingers, she gingerly removed the precious mementos from her friends. As she held one up, she saw Rikuo's crimson eyes grow wide.

"Wait… Is that…?"

Kagome nodded. "These are—were—Inuyasha's subjugation beads." She gave him an impish grin. "Wanna see how they work?"

"Uh, thanks, but no thanks."

She clicked her tongue against her teeth. "You're no fun…"

She set the rosary aside and pulled out an acorn and a leaf, both still as new as if she'd plucked them off a tree yesterday. "I got these from Shippō."

"The kitsune, right?"

"Yep! Pretty amazing they haven't decayed at all, huh?" She handed them to him, and he ran his fingertips over them.

"They're infused with his Fear, his kitsune youki. I would imagine if they had not time traveled with you, they would have lost their magic by now." He gave her a half grin. "But then, I guess you probably already know that."

She shrugged. She had figured as much, but it was always nice to have confirmation. "Oh, this came from Miroku." She held up the handwritten sutra.

Rikuo shook his head. "I'm not going to touch that."

"Don't tell me the Nuragumi supreme commander is afraid of one little ofuda!"

"Hardly." At her doubtful look, he explained, "The less it's handled, the less it'll degrade. I'm simply trying to be respectful."

She eyed him. Huh. I think he's actually telling the truth. Since they were on the topic of delicate items, she fished out Kirara's whisker and the pressed flower from Rin.

"Is it weird I kept a cat's whisker?" she asked, suddenly a teeny bit self-conscious.

"Why would it be weird? Don't some people keep locks of hair from loved ones?" He shrugged. "Besides, it's not like it was just some random cat."

"No…" she said softly. "No, it wasn't. She was pretty amazing. I wish you could have met her, met all of them…" It seemed fitting to follow Kirara's whisker with the keepsake from Sango, and she handed him the seashell-shaped container.

He opened it cautiously, taking a quick sniff, and then closed it back with equal care. "What is it?"

"A medicinal salve she made. Really great stuff. I mean, it wouldn't heal a wound on the spot, but especially considering the time period, it was pretty impressive." Kagome sighed. "I wish I'd gotten the recipe from her." So many impossible wishes…

Rikuo handed the salve back to her, and then folded one arm across his chest, resting his chin in the other hand. "Hmm…I make no guarantees, but Zen might be able to analyze it, give you an idea of the ingredients."

"Really?" It's probably stupid, but for some reason, the thought of recreating it makes me so happy…

"Like I said, I can't promise that he'll be able to, but if you don't mind him taking a little of it, he can certainly try."

A huge smile spread across her face, and on a whim, she set the lockbox aside and threw her arms around Rikuo. "Thank you!"

His arms encircled her and squeezed tight. "Uh…you're welcome? I didn't do anything."

"Sure you did, baka. You've done lots of things. You believed me, you listened to my word vomit for hours on end, then you brought me oden, and now you've offered to ask Zen to analyze Sango's salve. You have no idea how much that means to me." An unexpected pang of grief hit her, and she blinked against the stinging in her eyes. Fucking hell, her emotions were all over the place. And how did she still even have any tears left with which to cry? Her tear ducts should be a veritable desert by now.

The words slipped out involuntarily. "I miss them." She hiccupped, trying to hold back a sob. "I miss them so, so much."

"I know."

As the tears burned her cheeks, Kagome clenched her jaw in frustration. Always with the fucking crying. Enough already. "Sorry… It's… I…I don't talk about them much. At all. But, honestly, it's nice to be able to."

Rikuo hummed in agreement and stroked a hand down her back. "I'm sure it is. They meant a lot to you."

"Gods yes. They were…they were more than friends; they were like family. And Inuyasha… He was… I…" She tilted her head back, resting her chin on his chest, and closed her eyes, sighing heavily. Might as well go the whole nine yards. She reopened her eyes and looked up at Rikuo. "I loved him."

Rikuo tensed slightly at her admission, yet said nothing.

"But…" Her voice came out as barely a whisper. "He didn't feel the same way. He loved Kikyō. And…even though it took me a really long time to figure it out, she loved him. He and I…just weren't meant to be." Kagome closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. Surprisingly, telling Rikuo about it hurt less than she had expected, lessened the sting of old wounds.

"So that's was why you made your wish, or part of it, rather?"

"Of course. I had to. By that point, I had accepted that he would never love me the way he loved Kikyō. But he was still my best friend, no matter what. When she died, I couldn't prevent it. I couldn't do anything to save her, and he was in so much pain. So when the opportunity presented itself…I took it. I just wanted him to be happy."

When she opened her eyes, Rikuo was frowning. "What about your happiness?"

She carelessly lifted a hand palm up, let it drop. "It wasn't really a priority—making them happy was. Which…" Kagome snorted. "Probably sounds really stupid."

"Not even remotely." Then he gave an exasperated sigh. "But your happiness is important too."

"Hmm…" She wobbled her head back and forth as though considering. "I guess?"

"It is to me," Rikuo said firmly, his arms tightening around her. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Amazing? Me?" She scoffed. "Not hardly. I barely did anything. If it weren't for my friends, I would've died. Many, many times."

"Somehow I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. You sacrificed a lot for them. For everyone. I mean, at least when I was doing the whole 'save the world from death and hellacious damnation' gig, I was in my own time period."

"Oh?" Kagome's interest piqued. "You have to tell me! Um, if you want to, that is…"

"I want to. In fact, I had planned on telling you about my past in hopes that you would trust me with whatever you were hiding." Rikuo gave her a lopsided grin.

She felt her face grow warm. "So you picked up on that, huh? I wondered…" Yet he didn't mind? He was still interested in me? Why?

"Figured you'd tell me when you trusted me enough."

Kagome winced. "Ouch. It wasn't that I didn't trust you… It was just…"

"I get it, okay? Don't worry about it." He waved dismissively. "Water under the bridge. Anyway, I will definitely tell you my whole story…but maybe when it's not quite so late."

"I'm not tired," she protested, and then immediately yawned. Oops.

Rikuo laughed lightly. "You were saying?"

"I…might be more tired than I let on. But I want to hear about your past 'adventures'."

He arched an eyebrow. "'Adventures'? Why the air quote qualification?"

"Because…" She exhaled harshly. "The people who call them that are rarely the ones who experienced them. Sometimes it's not all fun fantasy fiction land."

His eyes darkened, expression clouding. "No… You'd be right about that." A split second later, whatever caused him to look so grim had passed. "I promise I'll tell you. Tomorrow, okay? But I should go, let you get some sleep."

Without warning, panic swooped down like a hawk and gripped Kagome in its talons, her heart hammering and sweat slicking her palms. Perhaps caused by reliving the main source of her anxiety, or perhaps the irrational fear of being alone once Rikuo left. She couldn't say.

Knock it off. Quit being so weak and so fucking pathetic. You're a grown adult who is perfectly capable of being alone in her own apartment.

Her anxiety, however, disagreed. Her pulse continued to race—she swore she could feel it jumping in her neck. Her breathing shallowed, and little sparks of undesired adrenaline tingled into her sweaty fingertips. She pulled away from Rikuo and leaned forward, rubbing her hands down her thighs, willing it all to stop.

"Kagome?"

"Mmm?" She didn't look up, kept staring absently at a spot on the coffee table. Calm down. Slow deep breaths. Calm down.

"You okay?" Rikuo put a hand on her upper arm, and startled, she jerked her head around to look at him.

"Yeah, sorry… I'm…um…tired." She attempted to smile. I shouldn't evade…but it's not his problem… He shouldn't have to be burdened with my anxiety.

Rikuo's eyes narrowed, and he sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. "Oi, blue eyes. No offense, but right now, you suck at lying."

The comment drew a shaky laugh from her. "Yeah, I know. It's just…stupid. I'm being stupid."

Rikuo pinned her with a sharp look. "That's crap, and you know it. Talk to me, please." There was an undercurrent of desperation in his tone that Kagome didn't understand.

"I… Look, it's irrational, and I know it's irrational, but I'm having a stupid panic attack over being alone. I told you it was ridiculous," she said irritably, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him, despite the fact that it wasn't his fault.

"Oh." The crease between his eyebrows softened, and he smiled. "That's not stupid. I know you're tired and didn't want to wear out my welcome. You need me to stay, I'll stay. As long as you need me. Easy as that."

"Easy as that," he says. Pffft. He has absolutely no clue how impossible it would have been for me to ask him to stay…or how much it means that he offered…

The too-snug prickly feeling in her skin eased, and her heart slowly quit its assault on her sternum. Kagome curved her lips in a tiny, grateful smile. "Thank you. It…means a lot that you're not making fun of me for being so pathetic."

She jolted when he thumped her lightly on the head. "Stop being so damned hard on yourself. It's not pathetic." He glanced around the apartment. "So…I'll…uh, take the couch."

The devil on her shoulder, who currently bore a remarkable resemblance to Miroku, prodded Kagome with his pitchfork. There's room for two in your bed…

A tempting prospect. And she certainly wouldn't mind having Rikuo in her bed…

As she debated, she pictured the angel from the other shoulder, who at present looked like Sango, materializing next to the devil Miroku and smashing a mini Hiraikotsu down on his head. Shut it. Go take a cold shower, pervert.

Kagome coughed lightly, shooing away the bizarre mental image as she hastened to respond to Rikuo. "Um, right. Let me get you some blankets and a pillow."

As she dug the aforementioned items out of her closet, the impact of revealing her past—and all the emotional baggage that came with it—finally caught up to her. Exhaustion made her head fuzzy and her limbs leaden as she shuffled back to the living room. Perhaps best to wait until I'm not so tired to offer to share my bed… She blinked to clear blurry vision and handed Rikuo the blankets and pillow.

"All right there, blue eyes?"

Kagome yawned into her arm. "Yeah, just tired all of a sudden."

He nodded and then leaned down to kiss her forehead gently. "Go get some sleep then. I'll be here if you need me."

She chewed at her bottom lip. "You sure you don't mind?"

"Positive."

They said goodnight, and Kagome sleepily found her way to her bed. There, however, instead of passing out immediately, in the quiet darkness of her bedroom, grief snuck up on her once again. It stole her breath and constricted her throat, hot tears soaking her pillow as she curled into a ball and wept silently until fatigue won out over emotion, sleep finally claiming her.

As he spread out the blankets and settled on the sofa after shucking his shirt, Rikuo thought about all that Kagome had told him earlier. Her story was decidedly unexpected—of all things, he had never once considered she'd be the priestess of legend, or a time traveler—but for whatever reason, he didn't have a hard time believing her. On a soul-deep level, somehow, he knew that everything she had told him was the truth.

To say that all she had gone through must have been hard to cope with would be a gross understatement. Her past, while different, was as complicated and troubled as his own. And knowing that she had not only persevered but had also succeeded made him immensely proud. As did her altruistic wish on the sacred jewel. Even if he hated the burden it had forced her to carry. She is so strong…yet she doesn't see herself that way. As he tried to fall asleep, he wondered what on earth he had done right to be so lucky as to have her in his life.

By all logic, Rikuo should not have been able to sleep. He was in an unfamiliar place, sleeping in his jeans, his legs hung off the end of the sofa, and the gorgeous woman he'd fallen even further in love with was in the next room. Perhaps it was the blanket that smelled like Kagome, a soft citrusy-vanilla fragrance so uniquely her. Or maybe it was the contentment that stemmed from her trusting him with such a significant part of her life. Either way, sleep he did.

It was not, however, restful. Instead, he dozed fitfully, waking frequently from dreams plagued by scenes of Kagome being attacked and killed by yokai. Rationality stated his nightmares were likely the demented offspring borne of her story and the anticipation—trepidation, really—of telling Kagome his story, pieces of his past he wasn't in any particular hurry to revisit. Yet despite acknowledging this, the nightmares persisted. Some of the dream yokai wore familiar faces, occasionally current or past members of the Nura clan, and Rikuo was always too late to rescue her. Each time she died in his arms, her blood staining his hands and clothes.

So when a shrill scream roused him from his light, restless slumber in the early morning, Rikuo didn't stop to think. He simply reacted, bolting into Kagome's bedroom, sword in hand.

Author's Notes:

1. We made it, y'all! And the truth shall set us free. Er, rather, set us toward the rest of the plot. Or something like that. I don't know. *shrugs*

2. Moving day is next week, so it may be a while for the next chapter, especially considering I've written zilch nada zip in the past week or so... Hopefully the length of this one makes up for the delay of the next one. Maybe. Anyway, I'll update as soon as is feasibly possible. If you happen upon my wayward muse, please stuff her bitchy ass into a box and ship her home. I'll pay postage upon delivery ;-)