Okay, everyone, listen up. Something was brought to my attention yesterday! This chapter is hereby dedicated to katty-kat, who was sad that I never mentioned her! I didn't mean it, katty-chan, I promise!!! ::Hands her a mondo-size-of-New-York-chocolate-chip-cookie:: I really do I appreciate all your reviews! And Sanji does too! DON'T YOU?

Sanji: Yeah! Of c-course I do! ::Fidgets away from Tailz's death glare::

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Another day passed slowly. Miroku and Sango slept on. Shippo woke up around lunchtime and was bouncing around maniacally, and would've woke Kagome up right then and there if Inuyasha hadn't caught him and clamped a hand over the kit's mouth. "She needs her rest," he'd hissed, impatiently, and immediately a torrent of questions came forth—was she all right? What had happened to her? Were the others okay? When would they be leaving to go back to Kaede's village? Inuyasha had eventually gotten so irritated with the babbling that he had bonked the kitsune on the head and told him to shut up before he fed him to a demon. Shippo hushed.

The sun set and the moon rose, hesitantly, from the skyline. Shippo went back to sleep early and suddenly everything was quiet again. The change was startling, but not in all actuality a bad thing. It was sort of nice to be able to hear his own thoughts again.

Kagome had been lying the night before. She was sick, and they both knew it. She didn't wake all day, not even when he changed her bandages or when Shippo was bouncing around and blathering. Miroku and Sango were still sleeping, try as he might to rouse them, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Everything about their appearance and vital signs were normal. It was really strange. But still, he held true on his word to Kagome about not leaving until they woke.

If they were going to stay, he thought, he couldn't let Kagome get any worse, or she'd be too ill to travel by the time those two idiots woke up. Inuyasha was by no means a healer, but he had listened in a few times when Kaede had been instructing Kagome about the healing properties of certain herbs. He crept silently from the campsite with the failing light and returned just as dusk was falling, several plants clutched in his fist. The really oily, thin-leafed one helped to break a fever, and the dark green one was good for any sort of common illness. Maybe listening was useful, after all, he thought smugly, sitting down with a pot he'd extracted from Kagome's bag.

It was a simple task to crush up the plants and put them into the metal pot with some water. A few minutes later, the plants were boiling into a minty liquid, and Inuyasha knew, with satisfaction, that he'd blended them right—it was the same smell that often filled the old hag's hut when she was caring for someone. He knew, too, that the stuff had to be stirred constantly until it turned a pinkish color. That was when Kaede knew it was done.

'Now where's that spoon thing?' He looked through the bag for a few seconds before his hand closed on the smooth wood of the utensil that she had broken not long ago—the handle and the bowl-shaped part of it were tied together sloppily with a piece of bandage. Together with the spoon, Inuyasha returned to his seat before the campfire and began to stir the potion.

He found out quickly that it was not as easy as he'd thought. For one thing, he wasn't used to holding something so small, so he kept dropping it, and retrieving it from the steaming hot water wasn't fun at all. For another, he kept getting impatient and sloshing the medicine out of the pot. He was thoroughly frustrated by the time a small voice inquired quietly from across the campsite.

"Inuyasha?" He glanced up from his task of minding the pot.

"What is it?" he asked, pulling his fingers away from the boiling thing quickly, waving them a little. He couldn't let his attention wander at all or else he'd have no fingers left to wield Tetsusaiga later. This really wasn't the kind of work he was cut out for. A quick glance at the girl revealed that she was still not completely aware; she lay on her back in the bedroll, staring at the sky with sleepy eyes. She probably wouldn't be awake too much longer.

"Have you ever thought of flying?"

Inuyasha froze in mid-stir, completely caught off guard.

"What?"

"Have you ever thought about flying before?"

He stared at her as though she was possessed.

"What kind of question is that?" The spoon slipped into the now cloudy, slightly grayish water. Cursing under his breath, he forced his poor fingers back into the hot water to salvage it. The water was so murky that he couldn't see the black bottom of the pot, let alone the ladle, so it was blind (and painful) guesswork. When he finally managed to locate the thing, his fingers were burning so badly that it was all he could do to drop the utensil into his lap and plunge his burnt fingers into his mouth—which he immediately regretted. The stuff, though it smelled kind of nice, tasted terrible. Poor Kagome wouldn't want to drink it, that was for sure.

"Inuyasha?"

"What now?" he asked around his fingers, then, realizing where they were, quickly pulled them out and tried to look dignified. Needless to say, it didn't work out so well.

"Where you mad at me?" Inuyasha blinked at her. The pink tinge that colored her cheeks had become more pronounced sometime during the day, and her eyes looked almost as cloudy as the boiling herby medicine. "I'm not mad at you," he assured her. "Why would you think I was?"

"You didn't answer my question."

He gave her a blank look.

"About flying."

Oh. Ohhh. That.

"You're delirious," he told her flatly. "Go to sleep."

She frowned, looking stubborn. "Not until you answer my question."

"Keh," the half-demon scoffed.

Suddenly, she was nose-to-nose with him, looking into his face earnestly as if she might find the answer there somewhere. Inuyasha yelped and scooted backwards, but Kagome didn't seem to notice. "You can't have never thought about it, Inuyasha. Everybody does sometime in their life." He looked at her like she was crazy, but she just continued to looking deeply into his eyes, as if glancing into his soul. He felt himself begin to blush almost as brightly as she when she climbed into his lap and stared up at him from beneath his chin, looking for all the world a little child.

"Um, K-kagome—" He stammered intelligently, pushing her back with both hands. "You're sick, and I don't think—"

"You know, when I first met you, I thought you could fly," she confided, as though he'd never spoken (or blushed red enough to put his yukata to shame.) Inuyasha stared at her, apparently at a loss for words. "You're very graceful," she added thoughtfully, and he blushed a deeper shade. Kagome played with his hair a little. "I always thought you were too graceful to be evil. Especially when you were jumping from tree to tree."

"Really?" he asked, listening in spite of himself. 'You're actually believing this?' A voice in his head scoffed. 'She doesn't even know what she's saying. And why should you care anyway?' But even so, he felt a rush of hope when she nodded seriously.

"I wasn't scared of you, because I thought, no one so graceful could be bad." Her smile shrank about three shades. "But then...you tried to throw me off the cliff." He grimaced. "I was a little unsure then, I guess, but I wasn't scared." She looked at him innocently. "Why did you want to kill me then, Inuyasha?"

He felt a stab of guilt. "I was being stupid," he said quietly. "I was confused. I was angry. It was stupid to mistake you for Kikyou. You two are nothing alike." Kagome's eyes rose to meet his, looking downtrodden despite his assurance.

"You called me Kikyou once, not long ago," she said softly. "I was trying to sleep, and you looked down at me and said 'Kikyou.'" The tone of her voice was hurt, like a scolded kid. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to get even madder at me. You're not still mad, are you, Inuyasha? For not telling you?" He stared at her, suddenly feeling very lowly. Did she really worry about him being angry all the time? He had had an awfully short temper lately. In truth, she hadn't deserved the wrath of his annoyance. Any one of the others would have tried to hide their sickness too in her place.

Were they all afraid of his temper?

He swallowed and looked remorsefully at the girl.

"No, Kagome. I'm not mad at you, okay? Not now, not before. I was just frustrated that you didn't tell me that you were sick."

"You're worried that "I'll get sick again. Like last time," she said in a voice that suggested she was just discovering the possibility. "Oh, don't worry, Inuyasha. I won't get sick like that again. Tsuki and Maseru said so." Her tone was naively confident, like a child's. Her cheeks had grown pinker.

"Who said so?" Inuyasha frowned thoughtfully. He'd never heard those names before.

"The people who helped me thought the Trials," she explained lightly. Inuyasha was baffled.

"What? Trials? Kagome, I think you need to get some rest." He tried to pry her arms off of his neck, but she held tight.

"No, no. I'm not making it up, silly," she protested. "It really did happen. Tsuki told me that I had to make it through these tests called the Trials. If I did, I could go back to earth. And see you again," she added shyly. "I missed you a lot while I was gone." Inuyasha had half a mind to tell her that she'd never gone anywhere—he'd sat with her the whole time in the sick house. But it would be like arguing with a toddler, and she probably wouldn't understand anyway. Not in this condition.

"You have to take your medicine now," he told her, trying to sound a little gentler. He held out a cup of the stud that had been brewing, which was now a deep pink just like Kaede's. She took it, curiously, and held it to her mouth. Her expression changed quickly to revulsion.

"Ick," she said squeakily. "I'm not drinking that. It smells bad."

"Yeah, well. It's the same stuff Kaede gives the brats back home to get well. You have to drink it."

Kagome made a face at him. "No way!"

"Come on," Inuyasha snapped. "Don't be babyish about it. Just go ahead and get it over with!"

"Uh-uh!"

"It's not that bad, wench."

"Then YOU drink it!"

"I'M not the one that's sick, stupid!"

"Don't call me stupid, stupid! Sit!"

Inuyasha's face communed with the dirt, and he only just managed to keep the cup of medicine from spilling. He cursed colorfully into the ground before peeling his face from it. "Dammit, Kagome, just drink it already, would you?"

"No," she said stubbornly. Inuyasha ground his teeth. It was like trying to reason with a three-year-old. Needless to say, Inuyasha was not very good with children. He was about to hold her down and force her to drink it when a thought occurred to him.

If she was acting like a kid, he'd just have to treat her like one.

"Well, all right, then," he said lightly in his best I-don't-give-a-hoot voice. He shrugged, then turned away with the cup. "I guess you don't want to come with me."

Kagome blinked. "Huh? Come with you?"

"Well, yeah," he said, offhand. "I was gonna show you something secret, but you can't come unless you take your medicine. Oh well."

He saw her blink in surprise, thinking over his words, and had to work hard to keep the amusement off of his face. It was rather like bargaining with a half-asleep Shippo. She wouldn't have fallen for it if she was in her right mind—however, might as well take advantage of it. When she snapped out of it, forcing her to drink the herb-water would be considerably tougher.

"If I drink it," she said doubtfully, "will you let me come with you?"

"Sure," he said casually. "Why not. Better decide soon, though. Nighttime's not gonna last forever." He held the cup out to her, keeping his face carefully impassive, and she stared at it. With both hands she accepted the beaker and stared disgustedly into its cloudy depths. He pitied her then, but kept his expression guarded still. Lucky HE didn't have to drink it.

"Will it hurt me?" she asked in a quiet, innocent voice.

"Of course not." He blinked in surprise. "I'd never try to give you something that would hurt you. You know that." She looked away in shame, and he felt a little flutter in his heart. 'Don't you trust me?' He thought, staring intently at her. The fever had made her naively truthful, revealing a lot of the thoughts she wouldn't normally dare to speak. "Kagome," he said, painfully, "you do trust me, don't you?"

"Yes." The answer was quiet, barely a whisper. "Of course I trust you."

He gave her a pained look that said clearly, 'Tell me the truth.'

"No, I do," she insisted. "I do trust you. It's just...sometimes...I'm scared."

"Scared of me?" he breathed, barely moving. She shook her head slowly. Memories of Miroku retelling one of his transformations flashed before his mind's eye. He couldn't remember them, but his friends all looked frightened—or at least uneasy—when he came to his senses. Who could blame her for being frightened of the Halfling monster? His ears drooped, and he waited for her to affirm it, in that sweet voice that he couldn't be mad at even if he tried...

"No."

He looked at her incredulously. No?

"I'm not scared of you, Inuyasha." A moment passed in silence. The fire crackled a she looked at him with those watery chocolate eyes and murmured, almost whispered, "I'm not scared of you. I'm scared...I'm scared of losing you." He watched, helplessly, as tears appeared and she whispered in a quiet tone, "Everyone wants to hurt you, Inuyasha, but you always get away...I'm worried that someday, you won't, and then—" Her voice broke, and she trembled, burying her face in his yukata.

"There's no need to worry about me," he said as confidently as he could manage. "I can take care of myself, Kagome. You know that."

"But what if something happens to you? What if you don't come, like...like in my dream?" Abruptly, she froze, and Inuyasha did as well, struck by her sentence. She looked way from him but didn't move from her position in his lap.

"What do you mean, if I don't come?"

"What if you can't save us next time?" her voice was barely audible at all, holding traces of deep misery. Inuyasha took a sharp breath and pulled her closer, minding her bandages.

"That will never happen," he swore seriously. "I'll always come for you." Silence passed between them as it had so often before. She didn't say anything, but her eyes, looking stubbornly anywhere but at him, were desolate. He couldn't stand it. "Look at me, Kagome." It was a pleading tone that he spoke with.

Nothing.

"Look at me," he repeated, this time pulling her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. She didn't resist, but stared at him blearily. He could feel the unnatural heat, hot and sticky, move between them. She was so close...the strangest sense of longing spoke up in his brain then, by the form of the plaguing little voice that had bothered him so long. It was like being in a mind-controlled daze. He scarcely registered the fact any more than she that he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. The contact was brief—his eyes widened in surprise and he snapped back as though he'd been burned; indeed, his cheeks were red enough to have been flame stroked. Kagome stared at him, a dizzy sort of surprise on her face. "You...just kissed me," she said shakily. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" he swallowed, his heart still pounding. It was a good question. Even he wasn't sure why he'd done that.

"Why did you kiss me? You don't like me." She blinked innocently at the flush that scurried to make his cheeks redder still, in more embarrassment and even....anger?

"What do you mean I don't like you? I'd give my life for you!" And almost had, on several occasions! A million memories of a million battles passed through his mind. He'd thrown himself in front of all the attacks meant for her, protected her from every possible foe and danger that he could. He stayed awake every night with thoughts of soft admittance—admittance to the fact that if anything ever happened to her, his whole world would shatter. During those endless weeks of the sickness, he had sat beside her—scarcely left his side at all—for all his worrying. Wasn't that proof enough?

But Kagome only met his eyes squarely with that dim, defiant twinkle about her. "I know you care for me," she said quietly, "but you don't like me. At least, not in the way someone likes someone they kiss."

He looked at her incredulously, frozen and unable to do anything but gawk. "Why...what..." he wanted to ask what had given her that idea, but he knew. HE had given her that idea. Another flurry of memories assailed him—this time of all their stupid fights, all the names he had called her, all the times he treated her like nothing and ran off to a psycho ex-lover, proving once and for all that her feelings meant nil to him.

His own voice echoed back to him with varying shades of cruelty and malice.

'I'm tired of always having to rescue you!'

'Fine, go home! And stay there! It's not like I care!'

'She's just a shard-detector! Nothing else!'

Even worse was picturing her expression in those instants. Her eyes were always wide with hurt, with tears she tried to hide from him. They always spoke volumes of sorrow, always seemed to ask, Why'd you do this to me? All she'd ever done was help him, and want to stay by his side...and how had he repaid her, the only person in half a century to trust him? Suddenly, it seemed so ironic that he was always chorusing to everyone, including himself, that he had debts to repay to Kikyou, promises and loyalty to her...And here was this innocent, who braved demons and death and stayed with him even though he had nothing to offer, even his affection. And he had repaid her with malice, with arguments, with all his anger at the rest of life that he had nowhere to vent.

The thought sickened him.

The villagers were right: he was a monster.

Kagome was watching him with that soft surrender that told him she took his silence as proof that she was right. He mouthed a million apologies wordlessly—his voce seemed to have suddenly deserted him. He wanted to tell her that she was wrong—he did love her. He knew he should've said something long before that moment—but the same pounding fault occurred to him that always had: he couldn't tell her. How could he reveal all his feelings, tell her that she was more important than his measly life—only to prove later that they would have no future? How could he leave her, desolate, knowing that he loved her and still went to hell for another woman?

He might've been half-human, but he still had enough of a heart to keep from being that cruel. He would never do anything so terrible to bright, cheery Kagome. His departure would be betrayal enough already. It was his hopes that after the quest—after he faced his fate and Kikyou—she could go on with her life, and find someone worthy of her love. HE certainly didn't someone so pure and loyal when he couldn't give any loyalty back. He didn't deserve anyone at all. And so he bit his tongue against the flow of 'you're wrong' sentences and stared at that girl with all of his regret shining in his amber eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and she blanched as though he had lashed out at her or said something threatening.

"It...it's okay." I already knew, anyway, her pained, forced smile told him—but she seemed to understand.

She always understood.

Another moment of crackling, dying flames and cricket song spanned across the evident pain of both parties. Inuyasha continued to berate himself, quietly, about being so blunt about breaking his friend's heart; Kagome just stared, unseeing, into the orange heart of the caged campfire as her mind supplied images to rush through it. Nothing happened for so long that the half-demon began to fidget, uneasily rolling Tetsusaiga between his dirty palms. The crickets sang their hearts out to the stoic moon and stars above, and the forest held its breath.

Inuyasha looked up in surprise as Kagome suddenly lifted the cup of herb-water (now, doubtless, ice cold) and sipped the whole thing at once. Her face turned a curious shade of stark-white, as even the feverish blush left her cheeks, and Inuyasha was sure she was going to faint—but instead she only grimaced terribly and shuddered, taking hold of her own sleeves and clenching her eyes shut. She was left shivering for several minutes before daring to cautiously open her eyes again.

"No wonder Kaede only uses that in emergencies," she muttered. "If she used it too often, everyone in the village would be sick, whether or not they were to begin with." Inuyasha gave a stiff chuckle, relieved that she'd spoken. The silence was becoming much too tense.

"Yeah, I wondered why she looked so mischievous when she handed it to Miroku that one time." She nodded, somewhat amused, and swallowed repeatedly, as if trying to rid herself of the taste, while her cheeks slowly regained their crimson hue. And suddenly, he had an idea, as out of the blue as the "kiss" had been. He jumped to his feet and offered her his hand.

"All right. Come on."

She looked understandably confused. "Huh?"

Inuyasha gave her a 'you're-missing-the-obvious' look and said, forcing exasperation, "A deal's a deal. You took the hag's awful medicine, so I have to bring you with me to see a secret. Remember?" She blinked for a moment, then accepted his hand and allowed herself to be pulled into a standing position. "Climb on," he told her, turning, "and hold on." She obeyed, confused, and he set off into the forest, leaving the campfire and camp itself fast behind. Inuyasha felt her hands, slightly clammy, slip hesitantly onto his shoulders, and was, for some reason, relieved. Their company didn't seem so forced now, and if he focused on running and how nice it was to have her warm body so close, then he could almost convince himself that he had left all thoughts of death and Kikyou back with the fire.

"Hold on," he warned, and leapt into the trees, where he proceeded to bound branch to branch above the ground the way she had seen him do all those times before. She had guessed right—it really did feel like flying. His strides were so smooth and even, no matter where he was running. How graceful he was, Kagome thought, with the wind at his sides, nimbly defying gravity, never slipping—

Well, that was about the time that Inuyasha's foot actually missed a branch, and the two of them went spiraling towards the ground. On a split second, he clutched desperately at the bark of a limb (probably the one he had slipped on) and caught Kagome's collar, suspending the both of them in mid-air and sparing a very painful landing. Kagome was still praising his demonic reflexes when he released his hold, landed firmly planted on both his feet and caught her neatly, and she had to admire his recovery style. Flawless. Still, he looked embarrassed as he said, "That was close."

"Really close," Kagome agreed with a sort of ditzy smile. "Nice catch, though. Ever thought of playing football?"

"Football?" he repeated blankly. "What's that?"

They set off again, this time on the ground and not in the trees, and Kagome tried in vain to explain to Inuyasha the rules and concepts of football. He looked critical throughout it, finally asking why they fought over the ball, and, if they did, why they didn't use swords or something. Kagome took that as a cue to let the subject drop. Instead, she focused on the steady rhythm of Inuyasha's footfalls. He barely bounced at all, and scarcely made a sound as he bounded through the forest at top speed. It was really mollifying, Kagome thought sleepily, as she lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The balmy summer wind on all sides, the warm, strong arms cradling her, the stable thudding of Inuyasha's footfalls, the quiet tempo of his breathing...

She had been sleeping for a while when Inuyasha finally stopped, a little out of breath. "Well, here we are," he said breathlessly. No response. He listened carefully. "Kagome?" her breathing, in his ear, was slow and even, the proof of a sleeper. He hadn't realized she was sleeping. Silly wench. 'Oh well,' he thought, heading back towards camp and taking care to make his strides as light as he could. 'Guess I'll have to show you another time.'

Back at camp, nothing much had changed. Everyone was still sleeping, but the fire had burned out. He walked around the flickering embers and knelt beside the great blue sleeping bag. Painstakingly, he lowered the sleeping girl from his back and into the sleeping bag, as slowly as he knew how. She didn't stir, so he crept away, smiling for some odd reason.

"Goodnight, Kagome."

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Tailz: Wow. There were considerably less reviews for this chapter than usual. Maybe everyone got mad at me for snapping at them for flaming about the angst....? Ah, well. Thanks to everyone that handled the situation like mature people and answered me. And kept reading. That's always a plus. And, no, Moogle, I'm not mad at you. :)

Sanji: A big thank you to KagometheHauntress for her nice long review. We really appreciate it a ton—it actually gave us some constructive comments!! Arigatou!