I want to apologize for the months of lacking an update. My modem got fried one morning during a storm when my mother called. I had to replace the phone cord, too. By the time I figured out it wasn't the new cord, or the phone jack, my notebook was sent off into New Jersey a couple weeks or so ago, and voila! I am here once again.

Miserable should have an update within the month. I say month because I've also just landed myself a job. So I promise I'll try updating regularly.

Thank You for the wonderful reviews.

 -MC

Disclaimer: I do not own the InuYasha characters but I did create this story.
"..." Speaking

 '...' Thoughts

Our World Is A Canvas

Chapter Five: Dancing on a Cloud of Notes

Kagome found herself atop the large red carpeted stairs, gazing down upon the many elegantly dressed figures dancing to the rhythmic melody the live band played and spied those dinning together on the upper floor with longing. The dance floor was spacious as the stairs were grand. One set of wide carpeted stairs to her left lead up to a second floor were many tables were strategically placed with numbered cards, fancy folded napkins, wine glasses by long white stick candles to dine with. Maroon and midnight blue sheets were draped from the ceiling skylights and tied to each of the eight roman-like pillars which supported the second level. A few crystal chandeliers set wonderful prisms against the tall windows and stained glass patterns which bordered them. A stage of some sort stood out against the scene. 'For presentations and speeches.' She thought.

A finely dressed and accessorized couple passed by and suddenly Kagome felt very much out of her league. Just why oh why had she agreed to come here again? Looking behind her and spying a very happy Miroku and Ayme arm in arm, she sighed. Oh yes, that was right. She was depressed and Miroku was there to "rescue" her again in the form of a fundraiser for sick children. Not exactly an everyday, "let's find something to cheer you up with," setting. Still, dressing up did feel kind of nice every once in a while. Though she had to remind herself to stay away from potential dates with the single men in the facility. Even if there were many single debonair looking men just crawling all over the dance floor…

'Bad girl!' She chided herself. 'Remember what happened the last time you went on a date.' Still, the thought of meeting someone half decent wasn't such a horrible idea…

A door greeter of some sort approached her shortly after Miroku and Ayme came to stand behind her. "Welcome to the Masonic Hall. Name please?"

"We're under Ayme Moon," Ayme smiled. "With the one guest planned for; however, plans changed a little bit and so my date has graciously brought a friend of his to tonight's festivities. Her name is Kagome." At this Kagome smiled slightly and waved meekly towards him.

"Very well Miss. Moon. Would you like to deposit your coats or have them with you at your table?"

"I think we'd like to keep them?" she suggested.

"Certainly." he nodded taking the ladies shawls. (Miroku opted to carry his jacket as the man seemed hard pressed to at least carry Ayme and Kagome's outerwear.)

"You're table is number 36.  Would you please follow me?"

Kagome noticed how well the view was of dance floor as the threesome ascended the steps in route to their reserved table. As she observed the palace like hall, the music became intoxicating. Sweet jazz wafted through the building with vigorous rhythm and one glimpse of the musicians faces sparked a whole new tempo and heart to the melodies they played. It was like they were in their own little vast world which no one could ever deprive them of and as a result, played with such swift grace and timing that it seemed to be their purpose of drawing in as many souls with them as possible. Ah yes, jazz was most definitely her favorite genre of music. At one time she would have studied the same fine art as they played rather then art… but there were just some things better left forgotten.

Once seated, (thanks to a third being chair added to the rather small table), and drinks ordered, Miroku turned to Kagome across the table. He truly was an attractive young man. Capable of funding a nice women to settle down with anytime he wanted to. If only those cursed hands of his could out weigh his intelligence. Not that he was the numbest man on earth who couldn't even cook frozen pre-fab chicken in the microwave, but if only he could over come those hands… or find just the right girl to put up with antics. Which ever came about first. She could only smile despite those thoughts. If she could put up with his antics, then chances are there was another woman out there who could too; and that made her smile all the more genuine.

"Having a good time yet?" he asked her.

"Oh, I suppose so." she shrugged twisting the long steam of her glass of water between her fingers against the sheer table cloth looking over the balcony, resting her chin on the palm of her left hand. The table was conveniently located next to the railing a few feet away letting them have a good view over looking the ground floor. "More people then there were outside as we arrived." Ayme laughed causing Kagome to return her attention to her companions.

"There's even more people here than last year. Would you believe it?"

"Which means the evening is already proving to be successful." Miroku voluntarily pointed out.

"Perhaps," his date remarked. "Won't be positive until the numbers are added up all together, but I think even if we don't raise more then last year we're going to get a good number in donations. Anything and everything helps for our kids and families."

" 'Our kids and families'?" Kagome asked. "Are you really that close to your patients?"

Ayme became suddenly serious. "Absolutely. Some of those kids only have one parent, grandparent or relative. One eight year old who left us last month, in remission, only had a couple of relatives alive. We try to make the hospital as friendly and comfortable as comfortable." she smiled. "Some of the Doctors, Nurses, and receptionists who aren't able to have children themselves consider the children as if they were their own. Not in a creepy pedophile, stocker kind of way, you know? Just in the fact that the environment is the way that it is. The sickest through the healthiest of them all have at least one person on staff that they can talk and turn to about anything they need or want."

"There's a young boy I saw every time while visiting," Miroku started. "He's been there nearly two years fighting leukemia. Only has his mother and sister, meaning he's the only 'man of the house', so to speak. Many times he's asked me for advice on how to insure their happiness through his treatments. They appear happy and cheerful when he's present, but he knows the hurt and fear they harbor inside their hearts. He felt because their father died so long ago, that there needed to be a man around to take care of them. Being sick in the hospital just made it impossible, but still he tried best he could."

"He was a pretty quiet kid when he first was admitted. His Mother and sister couldn't get him to talk too much and the Staff was worried he'd become so lost with his illness, that he'd never get himself into remission. When asked how he was feeling, he'd shrug with barely more than an 'okay.' Once Miroku began visiting, he actually begs to go play with the other children, to take a walk or play a video game with his ten year old sister."

"What did you tell him when he asked you for advise?" the young artist asked.

"Just to get well as soon as he was able and go home as soon as he was healthy. To grow up to be a fine young man and lead a good and fulfilling life. To be happy, healthy, and loved above all else for once that was achieved, he'd know that all the time put into achieving all those, he'd be taking care of his family in the same instant. I never told him that his striving to be happy would be the best way to take care of his mother and sister, for it would insure his staying in remission. To live till old age instead of dying so young. I'm sure he'll figure it out in time."

"But, how is he now?" Kagome asked, enthralled with the story.

"He's the one which left last month in remission." Miroku smiled as Kagome's face relaxed and relieved as she smiled. "Even if he'll be in once in a while for testing and follow ups, I'm going to miss that kid."

Kagome knew her best friend was special but after that wonderful story, she found a new sense of pride for him. Pride and respect well earned that she sometimes didn't give enough credit for. He had a hard upbringing without a father himself, and knew as much about him as he did about her. After all, that's what best friends know. As he explained to her the story of this boy, she could clearly understand how he felt. Probably felt like they were one and the same. Both being young, sick, and fatherless. So it wasn't too surprising that the boy opened up to him through that connection even though he wasn't aware about Miroku's past. So she surmised. Some connections just didn't need details to be perfectly matched.

"You're a walking miracle then, Miroku," she smiled. "just don't let that get to your head. Well, not too much."

"I'll try not to let it." he winked nonchalantly.

"This music is wonderful!" Ayme clapped. The tune which was playing became something even more vivacious as the last which had the nurse bouncing in her seat. "I haven't heard anything this good in ages. I used to play the guitar a long time ago but forgot how to play what with college and work."

"Certainly entertaining."

"Maybe we should come here some other time." the nurse continued to bounce. "Do you play, Kagome?"

The glass just reached her lips and paused as Ayme unknowingly struck the wrong cord with the final question. Her hand barely trembled as she regained composer and sipped on the water. Miroku gracefully stood up from his seat bowing to his date, extending his hand to lift hers to his lips and with a gentle kiss. "How about a dance, my dear? I believe that if I don't give my feet something to do, I'll bounce right out of my seat to the beat myself!"

Lifting a skeptical brow to him and Kagome, she shrugged and decided that she asked something bothersome unknowingly and being smart, dropped the subject completely. "Sure! Wanna come with Kagome?"

Kagome snapped out of her sudden hazed state and blinked up at her friends date. "Nah. I think I'll wait for the food to get here. Just a little too hungry to dance just yet but go you two. Enjoy yourselves and I'll be here by the time you tire out, okay?"

"All right, but if a cutie comes by looking for dance please have fun, okay?" the red head smiled apologetically.

"No problem." she laughed half heartedly.

Once he had her back turned, Miroku looked over his shoulder to give, what he hoped, was an apologetic look and promised a dance with her before the evening drew to a close. 'Typical Miroku' she thought to herself while nodding her head in approval and twiddling her fingers good-bye. 'He tries so hard to keep me happy… but I wish sometimes he'd leave my well being to my own.'

----

The waiter returned with dinner not long after the two left and so with a shrug, Kagome went ahead and enjoyed herself without them. Her roasted fish and steamed veggies was delicious and after sipping on white wine, not the red kind which turned her teeth red, she popped a small breath mint into her mouth. The music was starting to consume her. She wanted to move with the music rather than sit. A young man offered her his hand to dance and so she smiled shyly and accepted with, "Oh, what the heck?" She got up and made her way to the dance floor with a boy who's name turned out to be Hojo. 'What harm will it do.'

The floor was crowded but the sidelines were some what open and inviting. The handsome boy of twenty four respectively rested his hand on her hip and held her right hand in his left. She learned that this Hojo fellow was actually quite remarkable in his dancing technique. Nothing she couldn't keep up with. Her mother once was an avid dancer. She could dance on toed ballet shoes, healed taps, and for a short period took up jazz, (or free style as it was called back then.) How things changed through the ages she thought. Free style to many in this day in age was rolling on their backs or heads in spectacular twists and turns. How they ever managed not to break anything in their body was amazing to her, but it was all in fun all the same.

With a dip and twirl, the song ended and Hojo politely asked if she'd accept his number. After a quick mental check insuring she wasn't singed, bruised, bashed, spilt upon and disheveled, she smiled kindly and agreed. Nothing bad had happened with the exception of having accidentally bumping into a man with strangely light hair during their dancing, (whom cussed like a drunken sailor.) Hojo left with a shy smile saying he'd leave a slip of paper with his number on it on the table she was seated at. He wanted to dance again but she declined saying she would like fresh air and a little down time after those five dances. Alone. To her surprise, he left with no muss, no fuss, and she figured maybe there was a small chance that he was a keeper. Not that she was about to get her hopes up just yet. It wasn't a "date" just a dance. Dates never went well and so that was what she deemed to be the deciding factor.

The sensation of feeling out of place began to nag at the back of her mind as she looked around for a place to breath. She spied a small veranda near her and slowly made her way to it. Even if most the women around her wore expensive jewelry, and their hair was professionally done up, (or so she guessed), the men's shoes polished and cuffs donned with expensive looking cufflinks, she tried to ignore it all. She also noted that there were a few people bringing in a few instruments such as miscellaneous percussion equipment and more classical types. Maybe Jazz wasn't the only music for the evening.

She spotted Miroku guiding Ayme around the dance floor. He had groped her once, resulting in a whack against the shoulder and a pointed, 'no no' finger waved across his face. With the flicking of his nose and both laughing together playfully, the two proceeded to make their way dancing around the other many dancing couples.

"He's getting better." she smiled to herself. Those lessons were paying off. She figured long ago after prom night that if she could save another woman her toes and foot gear in place of her own, she felt accomplished.

Besides, after all he'd done for her in her time of need, it was the least she could do. She picked the pendant off her neck to admire as tears pricked at her eyes, then lifting it to her lips in a gentle kiss, held onto it firmly against her heart. Her show of appreciation didn't feel enough some days, but he always made her feel like what ever she offered and did for him was like food for his soul lasting years. And she loved him and their bond more than she could imagine for it. He'd be the perfect guy for her, if their friendship wasn't as strong a bond as it were. To cross it would be strange and uncomfortable. Nothing would be gained and they both knew that, too. She'd have to find another suitable match. A match which never seemed to present itself disaster-free.

Instead of responding to the approach of depression creeping up into her brain, she slowly wound her way to the veranda which wasn't too far from where the band was set up. She took in how it was lined with sakura trees and rose bushes and the city was below. The Hall was higher up in altitude than she thought. It was beautiful how the various sources of light shimmered below as the last part of the sun faded below the horizon leaving the sky in pink, purple, green and blue hues meeting with the stars and darkening night sky. Even the clouds absorbed the rays of color and she felt inspired to paint.

A new tune of many wafted its way to her as her eyes grew unfocused and closed. Only this time a beautiful feminine voice accompanied the strong strings of the cello. Majestic cords of the grand piano emerged a new form of life. Kagome could pick out three graceful sounding violins. A small assortment of percussion containing a timpani and drum set among the group, and a couple soul clarinet, trombone, trumpet, and French horns. All combining to make a very familiar rendition of "Amazing Grace." It was the perfect melody to warm her heart. So it was there she swayed by herself.

There where he arms swung side to side as she took in the gentle fragrance of rose and cherry petals. There where her feet began gliding side to side in small, slow steps as the music caressed her soul. There were she unknowingly began to slip into her past. There, unknowingly, sang ever so softly to herself.

And where for the first time in nearly fifteen years, she was heard.

----

I know this chapter is short, but I didn't want to leave it hanging. Some of the future chapters might be edited so it'll be better than ever. I thank you all for sticking with me and being so wonderfully patent and understanding. Such encouragement to write again!

As always, I want to thank you reading and I greatly appreciate your reviews. bows humbly

-MC '