A/N: You all thought I fell off the planet, didn't you? ;p Well fear not, I have returned, with a new chapter and a new story, even. Reason this took so long: First I had to get my own dearth of inspiration out of my system so I could crank out the chapter, then I sent it off to my first beta, Tavery, who had a wretched weekend and an equally wretched week following that. So, he finally got it looked at, only to say it all looked fine to him -_- I then sent it to my second beta, a professional journalist for the Bristol Herald Courier (a newspaper) and a fellow Inu fanfic writer. You can catch her at by the way. She had hard times too, but eventually it got done, and I changed what she pointed out, and...this is the result! Yay! Don't worry, I actually have a clear end in mind for this fic, and it's all plotted out, too. All we have to do is get it out there. Yay!

Oh, forgot to mention. It's set after the mountain collapses, during that whole line-up of filler episodes that followed. For those of you that only watch the dub on Cartoon Network, well, let's just say that somewhere between episode 1 and 100, Kagome and Inu-yasha got much more personal, but they STILL haven't bloody kissed or openly said "I love you." They need to stop beating 'round the bloody bush, if you ask me -_-

Disclaimer: Inu-yasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi, from beautiful hair to clawed toe. This story is merely a tribute to his awesome bishonenness.

*---*

Kagome walked under the archway and raised her eyes slowly from her feet to the large shadowed front of the junior high school. The sunlight glanced off windows still glazed with light traces of some cleaning solution, flashing brief glimpses of the diligently working students within. Kagome hesitated at the entranceway, wondering why she should feel so guilty about showing up late when she most often didn't show up at all. Was it the look of disgust she always seemed to notice in the eyes of her teachers? No, that was ridiculous; she didn't know them well enough for anyone to care if she was there or not. The only people who even might care were—

"Kagoooomeee!"

Blinking and clutching the straps of her backpack more tightly, she turned at the sound of the voice, for a moment fearing it was Houjou-kun come to give her more freeze-dried geckos. The vague silhouette in the sunny distance continued to run forward, curly brown locks of hair tossing up and down with each footfall. One brow rose in confusion as Kagome looked on, before recognizing her friend and breaking into a gentle smile. "Ayumi-chan. I'm sorry, I—"

Kagome cut off as she noticed how very out of breath her friend was, the way the red didn't face from her flushed cheeks, even as Ayumi slowed to a standstill several strides away. Kagome chewed absently at her lip, taking in the changes almost like a doctor examining a new patient. Ayumi obviously wanted to say something to her, but was so exhausted she could do little more than hunch over and gasp for breath. Kagome reached out a hand and touched her friend lightly on the back. "Are you all right?"

Ayumi leaned up and forced a reassuring smile. "Yeah, Kagome-chan. I'm just...a little winded..."

Although her countenance was pleasant enough, Kagome detected a certain level of animosity in her friend's words. "Ayumi. Are you all right?"

The girl blinked, unused to Kagome's intensity. Her directness, her failure to maintain the age-old manners even between friends...it must all be because of that Yankee boyfriend of hers. Ayumi's forced smile returned. "Yes, Kagome-chan. I'm quite fine." She brushed Kagome's hand away, and started in a stiff walk back towards the school.

Sucking in a breath as she realized her friend was departing, Kagome jerked her head up and started after in an unsure trot. At length, she stuttered out, "Ayumi? Is there something you want to tell me?"

Saying nothing, her friend's steps slowed, and Kagome felt an uneasy lump form in her throat as tension radiated in a backwash towards her. What on earth had transpired, to make her friend undergo such a change of disposition...? Had she forgotten her birthday, or something? Oh, no! That must be it. She must have—

"She's mad because you didn't visit her one single time during her hospitalization."

Kagome's eyes widened, surprised by the admonition coming from beside her right shoulder. She felt a touch at her elbow and turned, meeting brown eyes narrowed and lips thinned in preparation for a reprimand. "Yuka—"

"Yeah, Kagome." She gasped in surprise as Yuka reached out and grabbed her wrist. "You know, I wonder sometimes. You know, about how much you've changed recently. You've become a really bad friend in some respects."

Well soooorry, I was busy saving the world! Kagome thought bitterly, then chastised herself for the uncharitable thought. Though it was true that she and her other friends were quite likely preserving the world from destruction, she still had obligations in her natural time, and one of those was being there when these friends needed her.

And oh so often, she was not.

Yuka's grip tightened, bringing Kagome back to the present. She winced. Yuka had always been the most proactive of the three, and also the most tomboyish. It seemed to be her natural role to protect the quiet, romantic Ayumi, who would never assume to question Kagome of her stand on current relations. Hidden between primly pinched lips, Kagome gritted her teeth, both angered and afraid of Yuka's livid scowl. Geez, if she had to start dealing with this trash when she returned to school, maybe she should just give up the whole business altogether.

At last the third member of the trio, the always-cheerful Eri, approached them from the school building with a notebook and dust mop clasped in either hand.

"You guys! Class is almost over! Are you going to miss History, too?!" Eri called out, brandishing the mop in a dusty wave of reproach. "Come on, already."

Yuka sent a furtive glance at the girl, then turned slowly, giving Kagome a good, hard glower before reluctantly releasing her wrist. Blinking in astonishment, Kagome pulled her arm to her chest. She watched after the others in amazement as they made their way back to the school, Ayumi in her self-conscious shuffle, Yuka with a confident, almost masculine stride.

Kagome swallowed, guilt settling heavily in her gut. It was her fault Ayumi was so stricken with sadness, after all, how could Ayumi have assumed anything but that Kagome didn't want to remain friends? True, she had no idea what Kagome really spent the majority of her time doing, and hopefully never would, but still...wasn't part of Kagome's responsibility devoted to keeping her friends on this side appeased and happy as possible?

Well, no sense on dwelling what was already past. She would just have to try harder, try to be a better friend to everyone. Kagome clutched her satchel tighter, and marched determinedly into the school grounds.

Unseen, unnoticed, a large, colorful banner taped neatly between two fence posts proclaimed: "Cute Couples Contest! Sponsored by Kutey Anime ™, prize is 5 DVD set of their hit series, "Ima Kawaii Otokonokotachi! Final registration date: This Tuesday!!" A small picture of an effeminate young man with blue hair illustrated the blank space in the corner. Small notes were written in the margins of the banner, including a few less-than-cordial remarks by the male half of the student body on how inane an anime titled "Cute Boys Now!" must be. In retort, the delicate, often-curly-cued writing of the females countered that the boys were merely jealous.

Not caring particularly for either side of the foolish argument, Kagome spared the banner a single glance, then walked on into the building.

--

"Now, listen for your number then come to the board to check your score. Azuma: 92. Fuchu: 16. Honjo: 65. Jinguji: 23..."

Sighing softly, Kagome's eyes wandered of their own accord from the blurring hiragana characters on the whiteboard to the dilapidated, graying clouds outside. Rain would probably appear sometime that afternoon, which made perfect sense, considering the fact that it was the middle of winter.

"Higurashi: 78."

Kagome started at the sudden painful jab in her shoulder. She looked about in bewilderment, staring down confusedly at the pinched crease in her sweater before recalling that the teacher had recently said her name. What had he said? Her number was...seventy...seventy....eh....what was it?

Absently, surreptitiously, her gaze slid to her left, staring quietly at the pretty girl with the wavy brown hair and pursing her lips in thoughtful musing. It would have been so easy to ask Ayumi what number the teacher had given her, so easy and so natural—

Kagome swallowed at the mental image and remembered feel of Yuka's hot gaze and tightened clasp on her arm. Despite the constrictions of her throat, the lump thickened, becoming painful as Kagome felt her forehead scrunch up. Hastily she bent over and hid her face beneath a sheath of hair, resting her hand against her chin for added concealment. It wouldn't do to have anyone think she was relapsing into another of the many diseases and sicknesses Jii-chan had already condemned her to.

After a moment, she began to sweat with the nervousness of not knowing her number. She could always sidle up and ask the teacher later on, but what if the professor was mad at her for not listening? Or, worse, suspected she was sick again and sent her home for the day? Well, she would just have to wait until later, when she could...could what?

Lost in her wonderings, Kagome's consciousness again drifted from the teacher's incessant droll to the condensation outside. A dark flashing in the bowels of a foreboding shadow gave sign of the coming storm, and despite herself Kagome smiled, looking forward to the refreshing rain. Rain seemed so perfect for washing away the ills of the world, restoring peace and prosperity to the land...

The loud clatter of someone's pen rolling off his desk to the tile floor shook her from her reverie. Kagome looked about, self-conscious and lost until she realized the teacher was just finishing reading off his list, and preparing to begin the lesson proper. It was her second day in school, and already the tedium of routine was getting her, luring her into an ill-fated doze. Kagome sucked in a deep breath and forced herself into an attentive sitting position, folding her hands primly on the desk and facing the whiteboard with what she hoped was an earnest face, eager to learn.

Slowly the professor's eyes rose from the roster in his hands to the girl beyond. "Higurashi? Is something wrong?"

Instantly her cheeks flushed red in response to being signaled out. Nervously she smiled and gave a slight dismissing flick of her wrist, before realizing the informality of the gesture and replacing it by a curt incline of her head. "Y-Yes, Sir. Just...just a little tired, I guess." Oops, bad choice of words.

"Well, perhaps you should go to the nurse." There it was. "I understand you're just recovering from a bout of—what was it? 'Feline leukemia?'"

It took ever fiber of her self-control to keep from gasping in disbelief. Her frantic smile grew taut as her eyes clenched shut, teeth grit in concentration. Oh, Jii-chan... "No, sir. Actually I think it was just a fever."

"Oh." The teacher's reply was short, indifferent, as if he didn't quite believe her but didn't quite care, either. Well, it wasn't as if he even knew her--she'd only attended this class, what, twenty times this semester? No wonder at all.

"She did have a fever, sir," said a small voice from her left. Brows risen in surprise, Kagome turned to investigate, and was surprised to find Ayumi sitting quietly at her desk, hands folded one over the other and the nail of one finger toying with a tiny bracelet about her other wrist. Kagome's lips unconsciously rose in a warm smile, pleased that her friend would defend her. Inexplicably, she felt the need to look away when Ayumi tilted her chin up to meet the teacher's inquiring gaze.

"Yes, sir," Ayumi added in a voice even softer. "I went to visit her at home, and she was so sick, her grandfather wouldn't let me see her. He said her fever was contagious, and that she could hardly move from the bed." Her eyes flickered toward Kagome, if but for a moment, and Kagome was glad she hadn't turned away. Her smile widened, and she bowed her head towards her friend, both in encouragement and thanks.

Hesitantly, Ayumi smiled, then her lips sank and her gaze returned unwaveringly to her hands. Likewise, Kagome felt her expression dampen.

The teacher cleared his throat, forcing Kagome's eyes to return to the front. His lips were pursed and his hands clutched the clipboard just a little too tightly, but he seemed to be pacified for the moment. Kagome relaxed visibly, more so when he began into a lengthy lecture about Japan's economic state 70 years ago.

Okay, well, this was good, kind of. The routine was reestablishing itself, for better or worse. Still, Ayumi was so...quiet, and timid. Had she always been that way, or were they lingering effects of her sickness? Kagome found herself worrying at the thought that her friend might still be sick and in need of rest. She would have to talk to her about it before the next class.

At last the bell rang, and Kagome rose from her half-lidded stupor, scrabbling out the last note then jamming her notebook and pencils into the small yellow backpack hanging over her seat. She was just about to leave when she heard footsteps, and lifted her head to find Eri standing somewhat intimidatingly over her.

Kagome forced a smile, wrenching the pack up by its straps and slinging it over her shoulder with practiced ease. "Hey, Eri-chan," she greeted, nodding once before beginning to walk out of the classroom. Eri followed after, her own pack clutched loosely in her delicate grasp.

"So," Eri began, voice trailing off into a drawl as she considered her words carefully. "You were...probably pretty bored, during your whole time in bed. I mean, you can only read for so long before even that gets boring."

Kagome nodded absently, for some reason just then noticing the interesting way the cracks in the wall's paint ran into each other, forming tiny crevasses that almost looked like riverbeds—

"Ayumi tried to visit you, last...oh, Saturday. You know, right before she...got sick. You know, Yuka—heh, it's stupid, she thought you were the one who made Ayumi sick in the first place..." Kagome paused and turned, tilting her head at Eri's nervous smile and faint tone. Her brow flickered upward and she nodded, urging Eri to finish.

Eri hesitated a moment, looking for confirmation in Kagome's eyes before finding her voice and continuing on. "We both told her that was a lie, I mean Ayumi didn't even get to see you, but Yuka seemed determined that it was all your fault somehow. I don't know. Yuka—" Pausing to chew the inside of her cheek, Eri's face grew pensive as she looked for the right expression. "Yuka is really kind of...like a Yankee."

Kagome chuckled despite herself at Eri's sudden wide eyes and nervous hiccup as the shorter girl realized what she'd just said. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with Yankees—That is, no offense to your—you know, your—"

"—He's not..." Kagome injected quickly, then shook her head slowly, deigning the matter to be of no importance and not worth the time to discuss. Her smile returned and she gave her friend an encouraging nod. "Hey. You hungry? We should go to WacDonalds—feels like I haven't been there in years!"

Though her brows remained raised in embarrassment, the girl smiled, but her mirth was short-lasted. Her lashes lowered and her gaze flickered away, cautious, almost as if she was suspecting to find a spy in their midst. "Kagome. I know it's silly, but Ayumi was really hurt, I think. She doesn't...really understand...how sick you were," she finished, eliciting a painful, guilty wrench in Kagome's gut. Kagome's lips flickered into a sheepish smile that she tried to pass off as apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Eri. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you guys."

Eri smiled, pleased at Kagome's apology, but her head was shaking avidly and she was pointing behind Kagome. "I forgive you, Kagome, but I'm really not the girl you need to apologize to. Ayumi is. As for Yuka..." Kagome felt a bead of sweat forming on her forehead, the tension only increasing as Eri glanced shyly away. "I'm sure she'll relent once you make peace with Ayumi."

"Yeah," Kagome breathed in reply, less assured than her ever-optimistic companion. "I guess so."

Just then there was a frantic scrabble of footfalls, and the both of them looked up in time to see an exhausted Houjou approach them from down the hallway. Following closely behind him was a pretty, if wholly unrecognizable girl with green eyes.

Kagome's lips broke into an uncertain smile as she nodded to both the boy and his companion. "Houjou-kun. Long time no se—"

"Higurashi-san," Houjou gasped between two pants and a wheeze. Forcing the signs of his breathlessness away from his face, he flashed a genuine smile, full of all the joy and tenderness Kagome was so wholly unused to seeing. Her grin grew yet more nervous.

"I brought—" Oh, no. More dead insects? More energy drinks? Maybe even the fiftieth pair of therapeutic sandals... Kagome's thoughts screeched to a startling halt at the sight of the double-set of tickets pinched carefully between Houjou's index and forefinger. Unconsciously she leaned closer, squinting as she tried to read the tiny inscriptions. You are admitted to this year's annual compe—

Before she could finish, the tickets were yanked out of her vision and deposited back into a fold of his school uniform's jacket. Houjou's smile widened; apparently he was not aware she had had not the time to finish reading.

"So," Houjou started," unaware of the baleful glares his jade-eyed companion was sending the other two females. He nodded to Eri, apparently noticing her for the first time. "Hello, Kamiya-san. I trust you are feeling well?" Instantly his eyes flickered back to Kagome, not out of rudeness but simple preoccupation. A crease in his forehead formed at her prolonged silence. "Higurashi-san...?"

Kagome blinked, thrust out of her pleasant recollection of a certain hanyou innocently inquiring if they could try out a "carn'val thing" sometime. Her distracted gaze focused on Houjou. "What...?"

A smile quirked at Houjou's lips, a smile full of tenderness and tinged with a hint of sorrow. "Would..." he swallowed thickly, fists clenched at his sides in determination. "Would...you like to go...with me?"

"Um..." Kagome hesitated, chewing at her lip and plucking at her worn uniform without realizing it. Go where? Her mind wanted to know, the lingering image of bold katakana letters tantalizingly close and yet incomplete. "W-well sure, I guess, but when—"

"When?" Houjou echoed, confusion writ large in his furrowed brows and the slight quirk to his bottom lip. "Higurashi-san—didn't you see? The competition is tomorrow."

Kagome's heart froze in her chest mid-beat. "Competition? What kind of competition?"

Houjou's brows lowered further as he pulled out the tickets, handing one to her while studying its mate against his palm. "The school's couples contest, Higurashi-san. Didn't you see the fliers?" Then his brows shot up with enlightenment and he smacked the hell of his free hand into his forehead with a resounding smack. Kagome backed away, startled by the gesture and smiling nervously despite herself.

"No, no of course you don't. You were in bed with feline leukemia. I'm so stupid sometimes..." Peeking at her through a gap between his ring finger and pinky, his lips lifted in a sheepish smile. "Can you forgive me, Higurashi-san? Please allow me to start over." Lowering his hand and inhaling deeply, he startled Kagome with the sudden intense incline of his head and unabashed stare. "Higurashi-san, would you please do me the honor of attending with me this year's annual couples contest? I'm not sure what the requirements are, but the prize is a five set of DVDs from some anime—what was it, Nobuya-chan?" he asked, sending a look to the girl at his side. "Ah, yes. 'Cute Boys Now!' It's apparently all the rage with the girls right now," he replied before the girl could utter a word. "I haven't the slightest idea why," he added with a baffled lift and fall of his shoulders. Kagome suppressed a smile at his naiveté.

"Well," Kagome began, lip worrying between her teeth as she considered how best to decline. "I'm not really sure—"

Her eyes widened and she looked down at Eri's insistent tug on her puffy white sleeve. The girl's look of overabundant joy was even more disconcerting. "Kagome-chan," Eri breathed, inciting Kagome into a puzzled grunt. "That anime. That 'Cute Boys Now!' one—Ayumi loves that one."

"Does she?" Kagome replied, one brow cocked as she wondered at the relevance of the information. "Well, that's ni—" Then it hit her. "Oh." If she could manage to win that contest, not only would it look good on her resume, but she would also have the perfect appeasement gift to give Ayumi and fix their relationship. Kagome turned on Houjou, brown eyes suddenly wide with fierce intensity. Too determined in her mission to brook any hesitancy, Kagome reached forward and clasped the boy's hands in her own, giving them a brisk, almost business-like shake. "Houjou-kun, I accept your invitation. Just tell me—what do I have to do first?"

The clock ticked quietly in its niche by the wall, the sound made louder by the infinite silence encompassing the mid-sized bedroom. Kagome sat hunched over her desk, one arm propping her drooping head up while the other traced lazy circles about what had been her nearly-finished math homework. The kanji characters for "i" and "nu" had somehow found their way into the leftmost margin, joined by a tiny lopsided heart in the right-hand corner. Kagome's lids shut of their own accord as her jaw cracked open in a monstrous yawn, eyes wandering lazily to the myriad of stars amongst the pitch black outside. Gaze flickering to the clock behind her, she yawned again, stretching her legs stiffly beneath the desk as she did so. Midnight already? How fast time flies when doing homework, compared to the many languid hours she'd spent staring into firelight—and the fiery red kimono beyond.

Kagome blinked, too tired to shake the memories away with a determined twist of her head. This was the present; there was no time to think about her duties and relationships in the feudal era. Here she had homework, and familial obligations—and friends who needed her. Unbidden, the image of Ayumi's face, eyes downcast and face slightly flushed with embarrassment flashed in Kagome's mind, giving her heart a tug that made her bite painfully on her tongue. Baka. Ayumi had to go through her sickness all alone, all because you were too busy in the past with your friends and that stupid hanyou—

"Inu-yasha isn't stupid," Kagome whispered in argument with herself, smiling wryly afterward. "Stubborn, arrogant, yes, but not stupid."

Resisting the urge to let her jaw fall open again, Kagome pushed out of her seat and ambled to her bed before collapsing into it, too tired to even change her clothing or turn the light out. It wasn't as if it would be the first night she slept in her uniform—no, far from it. It was a wonder the threads still held at all, considering how many times she's been doused and thrown and stabbed and squeezed by filthy clawed hands while wearing it. Only the faithful stitching of her mother and her own forceful will kept the uniform from disintegrating altogether, a sight Miroku-sama probably would have sold his soul to see. Despite the vulgarity of the idea, Kagome smiled, feeling at once a guilty twinge for not being more concerned about her modern-age friends, and a painful longing to return to the world where the sky was clear and there were no car horns to wake her from deep slumber at three in the morning. Sighing in defeat, Kagome flopped onto her back, squinting her eyes tighter to block out the light that still managed to irritate her, despite her exhaustion.

A soft knocking brought Kagome from her reprieve, causing her to at first wince with irritation, then again with the painful ache of her cramped limbs. Her head lifted a fraction of an inch from the pillow and she squinted at the doorway. "Yes?" she mumbled in a voice so dim only a dog demon could have heard it.

The door creaked open, and the soft shuffle of cloth against doorway encouraged Kagome into pushing herself the rest of the way up. She looked up at her mother, head tilted in confusion both at her mother's presence and the saddened sweetness to her pursed lips. "Mom...?"

Then her gaze slid downward, settled on the tightly swathed bundle of white satin and lace held gingerly but securely in her mother's fingers. Kagome looked at her mother's face again, shaking her head in confusion. "What's that?"

"Well..." her mother began with great reluctance, rising the bundle to her chest for a hug before unrolling it carefully. Kagome discovered to her great surprise that it was a wedding dress, American-style, a bit worse for wear but still lovingly preserved in the best condition possible. It was bare of stain or impairment, save for a slight rending to the left half of the train, and a loose thread or two at the bottom of the skirt. Kagome found herself admiring the dress despite its dilapidation, admiring the skill in its crafting and also the attention to detail, from the tiny white rosettes woven into the lace, to the tiny embroidered "M. H." just under the v-curve in the front. Noticing her daughter's awe, Kagome's mother smiled, bringing the dress closer and holding it against her body carefully, respectfully, face full of the memories the dress brought back to her, both painful and tender.

"Your father gave it to me for our wedding," she explained in a soft voice, unable to meet her daughter's eyes and instead closing them and smiling with blissful remembrance. "I saw it in a store window and fell in love with it; he had one commissioned, and even had my initials sewn into it, American-style, with the surname last. He was...a kind man, your father," she added in a passive voice that held more than a touch of wistfulness. Kagome noticed with a start that her mother's eyes were glimmering, and not with rage. Hastily she rose from the bed and came to hug her mother reassuringly, dress sandwiched between them.

Startled and pleased by the sign of affection, her mother released one sleeve and patted her gently on the shoulder. "Dear Kagome. I suppose it was presumptuous of me to think, but I wanted to ask—maybe if, well, for your competition—"

Kagome took a small step backward, abrupt understanding writ all throughout her expression and body language. She looked down at the dress and smiled. "Oh, Mama." Then a sliver of doubt crept into her psyche, and a frown marred her tender features. "But Mama, the dress is American—"

Her mother made a small noise of confusion, causing Kagome to look up. "Kagome, don't you know? The theme of this contest is that each of the contestants represents a certain country. Houjou-kun explained to me that—well, when he came over to inquire about your absence—he thought it might please you to be American." At this point her eyes widened and she gave a perplexed shrug. "I've no idea where he got that conception. Do you, Kagome? Are you interested in Americans now? If I'd known, I—"

"Oh, it's okay," Kagome hastily injected, adding a small smile to show she wasn't offended. "I think I know why," she added, voice lowering somewhat at an odd recollection. "Is he a Yankee?" Ayumi gasped, leaning over the immaculate table at the fast food chain and panting with emotion. "Is that why he's so rough all the time?" Kagome's smile wavered, strained.

"Oh," her mother replied, still confused but shaking it off as a side effect of the strangeness known as teenagers. She smiled. "Well. It's late, and you have school tomorrow. I'm sorry I woke you up like this; I don't know what I was thinking. I had just found the dress, and I was—"

"Really, Mama," Kagome said gently, giving her mother a pat on the arm. "I appreciate it. I really do. And of course I will wear the dress, as long as it fits in the contest rules. I want to do you and Jii-chan proud," she leaned up and gave her mother a goodnight kiss on the cheek, "and Papa, too. Now, Mama, you look more tired than I am—why don't you get some rest? Goodness knows you deserve it." Escorting her mother toward the door as she spoke, Kagome noted the open door and wondered idly if Souta in the room beside her had heard an inkling of their conversation. No, of course not...like all young boys his age, Souta slept the slumber of the dead. She could have taken a megaphone to his ear and he wouldn't have heard a word of it.

Her mother sent a furtive glance down the stairwell, reluctant to leave Kagome alone when she seemed so preoccupied and overworked. "If you're sure you're all right," her mother murmured, only somewhat pacified when Kagome flashed her a confident smile.

"Yes, Mama. Now go to sleep," Kagome urged, giving her mother a final pat before returning to her room and closing the door quietly. She waited until she heard softly padding footsteps, then relaxed against the wood a moment before forcing herself to the light switch and flicking it off. Thereby plunging herself into darkness, Kagome stumbled blindly to her mattress, collapsing into it heavily and quickly finding solace in its undemanding softness. Yes, sleep was what she needed...sleep and enough time to finish her homework. Her friendship with Ayumi would be restored upon winning the contest and presenting Ayumi with her precious DVDs, Kagome could somehow manage to maintain her B+ average, and all the other solutions to her life's problems would just...fall into place. Yes, that was the answer, Kagome resolved, mentally nodding to herself as sleep claimed the last of her drifting consciousness. Sleep and...

Kagome was asleep before the sentence could finish itself in her head.