Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha . . .

ROCK ON!!!!

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A dream . . . was that all really just a dream?

The young man stared out the kitchen window, the sun's early rays spilling forth and bathing everything in light. His brown-gold eyes watched as a young child climbed a tree nearby, his ears twitching as he listened to the sound of the chirping birds and screeching cars below.

"Junichiro-kun?"

Snapping out of his daydream, he glanced down to see his younger cousin staring up at him with big, doeful eyes. Her hair was done up in pigtails, her mouth smudged with chocolate as her rosebud lips were formed in a perfect 'O'.

"Yes, Sanako?" He felt his heart twinge as he watched the young three year old's round face break into a smile.

"Happy birthday!" she squeaked, presenting him with a newspaper-wrapped gift, obviously made this morning by the date of the article.

"Domo arigatou, Sanako-chan," he murmered, reaching down and slightly ruffling her hair.

"Do itashi mashite!" the child squealed, estatic at the rare show of affection her usually stotic cousin. She then skipped off, giggling as she went to tell her brothers of her success.

Birthday . . . right . . . I forgot . . . Junichiro sighed, carefully placing the gift next to his breakfast. I'm sixteen . . .

"Junichiro! Junichiro!" Great . . . more fun . . .

The young man turned to see Ryu and Ryo, his twin cousins, jet into the kitchen, breathless with excitement. "Happy birthday, Nii-chan!" they shouted, barreling into each other as they sprinted towards their adopted sibling.

Junichiro winced as the term for 'older brother' was shouted throughout the house. He was about to brace himself for the twin canons' impact when a figure stepped between them.

"Boys . . ." Hitomi warned, placing her hands on her hip. "Why don't you go out and play with Sanako? Junichiro is too tired to play with you today."

Blinking at each other, Ryo and Ryu shuffled back outside, clearly disappointed.

"Children," the woman muttered, turning back to her nephew. "Any plans after you finish your breakfast?"

Junichiro shrugged. "Not really; I was planning to take a walk later, but that's pretty much it."

Nodding, Hitomi turned back to the stove. "Just be home for dinner; we're having something special for your birthday."

The young man spooned the last of his eggs into his mouth, rose, and deposited the plate in the sink. "I need to go clear my head," he mumbled, grabbing his jacket as he left the house.

"Be back before sundown!" his aunt called, listening to the front door slam behind him.

What exactly did he dream about last night?

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Junichiro made sure to go the long way around the house, as to not to run into his hyperactive and enthusiastic cousins. Walking past Goshinboku, he glanced at the wellhouse before heading towards the stairs.

As he stepped onto the busy sidewalk, he was hit with so many scents and noises that he nearly fell over. Ugh . . . one more reason I don't go out that often . . .

Lowering his head, he quickly walked toward the park nearby, dodging people with agility. He reached up, and making sure his ears were securely hidden underneath his hair, entered the park's gates.

Junichiro sighed, the suffocating smells of the city slightly drowned out by the beautiful scent of flowers, trees, and grass. He glanced around, and seeing there weren't many people, began wandering down the familiar path he had walked countless times before.

That episode last night . . . it didn't feel like a dream . . .

He passed by a clump of rose bushes, their blood-red color reminding him of a certain haori. If that was real . . . then Father really is a hanyou . . .

Sinking into an empty bench, he groaned, burying his face in his hands. I'm so confused . . . more confused than before . . .

Mother . . . Father . . . was that really you? If what I saw last night was real, then Uncle's stories are true . . .

He grimaced as he remembered their exhausted faces, their weary bodies as they darted in the midst of the battle. "For Junichiro . . ."

They said my name . . . it must be true . . .

He bit his lip, his sharp canines nearly drawing blood. Maybe it was just my imagination . . . my mind's making up stories to ease my confused head about Mother and Father . . .

Junichiro dug into his shirt pocket, pulling out the small object that held so much power. This shard . . .

He turned it over in his palm, tracing the edges as it reached the tip. Uncle said that these shards were sought after all demons, including Father . . . if his blood runs through me, shouldn't I be craving it's power as well?

Flashback

"So . . . my father was a half-demon? A hanyou?"

The man looked at the child with great sympathy and concern. He knew that he wouldn't completely understand at the age of 6, but he had to start repeating the stories of his strange heritage to his nephew to help it sink in.

"Hai, Junichiro. Your father was a great hanyou."

The young boy frowned, looking at his small, clawed hands. "Does that mean I'm a hanyou too?"

Smiling, Souta shook his head. "Not exactly; your father was half . . . so it would make you a quarter demon. You're more human than hanyou, but you have the same abilities as your father without the threat of a demonic side taking over your human."

Junichiro sent his uncle a quizzical look, before asking, "And my mother? Was she a youkai?"

The older man chuckled, scooping down and placing his nephew on his lap. "No, she wasn't. In fact, she was the complete opposite of a youkai. She was a miko."

"A miko? What's that?"

Souta held the young child close, savoring the memories of his sweet sister. "One of the purest human beings on the earth; your mother was one of the angelic beings on the planet, with the ability to heal and purify."

Scrunching his nose, Junichiro thought a moment. "So wait, if Mother's a miko and miko's are good, and Father's a youkai and youkai's are bad, then Father was bad? So what does that make me?"

The young child watched as his uncle's face was washed with confusion. "Well . . ."

"But Father wasn't all bad, was he?" Junichiro continued, "He had human in him, so he was half good and half bad. And Mother was all good. So I have more good in me than bad."

Souta listened in amazement as his six-year old nephew concluded his innocent but rather accurate theory. "That's precisely correct, Junichiro," he agreed, ruffling his hair. Although dumbfounded at the young child's intellect, he wasn't at all surprised, considering his lineage of both miko and demon.

"I'm more good than bad . . ."

End Flashback

Mother was a miko . . . the combination of both youkai and miko must have made me immune to the shard's power . . .

He sat back in the bench as he watched three young girls past him, chasing a loose balloon. I wonder what they were like . . . I mean really like . . .

Maybe things would've been different if they were alive . . . maybe I would've been different . . .

Sighing, he shook his head sadly. He was wishing for a lost cause, an impossible ambition that was beyond hope.

Hopeless . . . that's the all my life is . . .

Standing, he glanced at his watch, noticing it was a little past noon. Seeing the park begin to fill up, he decided to leave, heading back towards the Shrine.

Maybe Obaa-san will visit . . . it is my birthday after all . . .

Katsuko had moved away from her home Shrine shortly after her grandson arrived from the past. She had waited two months for her daughter to return, but Kagome never came back. Mrs. Higurashi, the painful memories of her daughter becoming unbearable, moved to the other side of Tokyo.

His Obaa-san was clearly his favorite out of all his family members. Katsuko understood him the best, and she never judged him. It was only to her he could let out bits and pieces of his most hidden emotions and thoughts.

What he liked best, however, were the countless stories of his mother that Obaa-san would tell him. As he climbed the Shrine steps, tales of his mother coming home from a long stay in the Sengoku Jidai flooded his memory. Katsuko would tell him about the times his mother returned, half asleep and sore, and how she would inhale her dinner. Then there were times when Inuyasha would come and get her, scolding her for taking too long at school.

Petty moments such as those that although were normal to Mrs. Higurashi, knew would be precious to her oldest grandchild.

Junichiro finally reached the top of the stairs, a strange smile on his face as he remembered the stories. Glancing at the house, he decided to take a quick detour before returning.

Thankful that his cousins weren't in sight, he headed for the place he headed every year on his birthday.

The well house.

He didn't know why he visited the well house; nothing supernatural ever happened to him while he was in there. But still, year after year he returned.

Sliding the door closed behind him, he slowly treaded down the small staircase that led to the actual well. He enjoyed the cool darkness that surrounded him, the quiet reverence that the well exuded.

Taking a deep breath, he peered down the well, staring into the inky blackness. Like every year, he saw nothing.

Sighing, he swung his legs over the edge, his feet dangling in the well as he sat on the lip of the well. Clearing his rhtoat, he began to speak.

"Father . . . Mother . . . it's my 16th birthday." He knew it was foolish to talk to an inanimate object, but this old well was the only connection he had to his parents.

"I recieved this strange object a few days ago . . ." Junichiro fumbled in his shirt pocket for the fragment. "Uncle says its a Shikon shard, and it holds great power. I'm not sure about the Shikon part, but it does hold great power."

Junichiro bit his lip, hoping to hear a voice talk back to him, but all he heard was the eerie silence. Running a shaking hand through his black hair, he hung his head.

"Father . . . Mother . . . I've come to this well every year since my 6th birthday. I . . . Uncle has told me many stories about you, but its not the same . . . I need you two here . . . here with me . . ."

A tear escaped his brown-gold eyes, dropping into the darkness of the well below. Two more followed as the young man tried to wipe them away with his sleeve.

Dropping his hand to his side, he opened his palm, revealing the glimmering shard. Even in the dim light it seemed beautiful, its luminescence clear.

"I . . . I wish, more than anything in the world, to see you again . . . to be with me again . . ." he whispered.

Suddenly, the Shikon shard began to pulsate, sending waves of energy vibrating throughout the small hut. Junichiro watched dumbfoundedly as the same energy that was exuding out of the fragment was also spilling forth out of the bottom of the well.

"Wha--whoa!" he yelled as he was pushed forward into the well. Reaching out, he managed to grab onto the edge, holding on for his life as the energy continued to suck him back in. What the hell is going on!?

"AHHHH!" he shouted, the force of the pull too great for him to resist. Junichiro felt himself fall into the well, remembering only staring up at the ceiling of the well house before purple light engulfing him as he disappeared completely.

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AN: I know! I know I promised a "Beneath the Tangles" update, but it's been so hard picking up where I left off! xx before you all kill me, let me inform you that the latest chapter is half-way done, and it will be up by tomorrow evening, I SWEAR!!!!!!

I can tell by the reviews that you all don't like this story as much as "Beneath the Tangles," but preeettttty please, give it a try? it's not so bad . . . (at least I don't think it is . . .)

so Junichiro falls down the well . . . what'll happen next? what'll he find? stay tuned to find out!