AN: ... Don't quite remember where I concocted this idea... but oh well... I happen to like it, so there! sticks tongue out

hEyKyRa13

Disclaimer: I own a Sesshoumaru plushie... and that's it... the only characters in this thatbelong to me are the random guards that don't even have the privelage of having a name, so they hardly count...

Soul

Chapter 1

Green

When I was a child, I used to hate the color green. Whenever I would glance at the hideous cotton band encircling my arm, I'd scowl in disgust. To me, green was like a mold or fungus- some hideous, revolting growth, like a disease in its pattern of multiplying in rotting corpses and decay. At least, that's what we were told when we were issued them.

Ah, my fifth birthday. One to remember. My mother had gotten up especially early to make my cake. It was small, no bigger than a grown man's fist, but to this day, I don't remember anything looking more beautiful with its pristine white surface and sugary sweet center. I don't know where she had gotten the ingredients. Things like sugar and milk and butter were luxuries we could never afford before, even if she was the leader of the humans… no, make that especially since she was the leader. Her philosophy was that we shouldn't live with such things that the rest of our people had to live without. It was such talk as that that made her leader in the first place.

But still, she had managed to sneak by, anyway. Probably stole it from some demon shop in town. How she got away without her scent being caught by the storeowner, I will never know. But to an official five-year-old whose eyes were almost as big as the cake itself, little else mattered. I remember jumping up and down in glee, clapping my hands and squealing my delight. I guess Mother would have been smiling down on me, but all my attention was focused on the cake. Of course, had it not, I might have actually taken the time to eat it instead of staring at it in child-like awe, only to see it snatched up by one of Naraku's guards.

Oh yes. The fates really smiled upon me, that day. Planning the guards' yearly census on my birthday.

All the joy and happiness I had felt only seconds before seeped through my skin like water squeezed out of a sponge as I watched the guard, my jaw trembling with the effort to suppress the tears. He took one look at the cake that barely fit in the palm of his hand, and then glanced down at me. Then he grinned maliciously, showing off his sharp, yellowed fangs as he opened his mouth and tossed the small cake in. The water squeezed from a sponge? Yeah, well, more like it was hope squeezed from my heart. A new tightening punctuated each exaggerated chew, and the moment when he swallowed, my eyes followed the lump in his throat hungrily, watching it move from just beneath his jaw to where it disappeared at the junction of his neck to his shoulders.

That was when Mother stepped in front of me, glaring daggers, and no doubt throwing a load of very colorful vocabulary that left spectators gaping. I most likely would have been one of the gaping few had I not been in my own daze, envisioning the crumbs of the cake, my cake, tumbling off his dark lips.

Thoughts of how it must have tasted and silent prayers that he'd choke on it ran through my mind until I was finally broken from my trance by a sudden snap on my right arm.

That was when I first saw it. My eyes traveled to it sluggishly, my mind still too numb to comprehend what was going on. All I saw was a bright green band wrapped securely, just below the shoulder. I stared at it for a few moments before I looked up at Mother. She looked down at me with such a piteous look in her eye, I was almost tempted to reach up and hug her, saying it was okay, and that I really didn't need that cake.

But two things stopped me: 1) I didn't want to lie. I really wanted that cake. 2) Something told me it wasn't the cake that was bothering her. Maybe it was the way her dark eyes strayed from mine to the green band. Or perhaps how she seemed to be choking back a sob. I winced. My mother was the leader of the humans. It would take a hell of a lot more than a cake to make her cry. But she fought, nonetheless, and her struggle was what was making me uncomfortable.

I glanced down at the band again, trying to understand how such a small piece of fabric could provoke such a reaction from such a strong woman. It took me a few years later before I fully comprehended what the band actually was, and the identifications that came along with it- filth, vermin, human scum, pest, parasite- just to name a few of the less vulgar terms.

So you see? I was never one for the color green. Even as I grew, and made all efforts to steer my limited wardrobe away from the color, it was that small scrap of cloth on my arm that left me feeling tainted, both inside and out.

But, now, exactly ten years after that incident, I look at the band with more experienced eyes. Mother taught me, despite my stubborn beliefs, to be proud of what it really represented- that I, too, was a human. Not scum or trash or filth, but a human- a creature with every much a right to exist on this planet as the demons did.

It wasn't the years of consistent teachings, or as I call it, the hammering of ancient philosophies into my thick skull by subtle brainwashing that finally lead to my change of thought, no matter how much Old Lady Kaede would like to take the credit. It was Mother who finally broke me. Strong, free-spirited Mother, who would always tuck me into bed, even after I was far past the age to do so, and would recite tales of heroic humans of the past- knights protecting their castle from invasion, adventurers in search of excitement, some lowly servant rising to defend an entire world.

Her stories would often attract the attention of the local children who would gather around her, looking up with eager eyes. As a unit, they would gasp in surprise and 'ooh' and 'ahh' in wonder as they became swept up in the fantasy.

Of course, none were louder than my younger brother, Souta. By the time he had reached of proper age to don a green band of his own, he'd thrust his arm in my face with childish vigor, wearing it with pride as he'd strut around the village, letting the younger children fawn him like some hero. He just liked the attention, not only from his inferiors, but also from the elders who would chuckle amongst themselves, nodding appropriately when it was their turn to be 'amazed'. You'd think by the way he showed the banner off, it was some "right of passage" or something.

But Mother would always look on with equally enthusiastic pride.

She had always taught us that green didn't refer to disgust and decay like the local demons would preach. That was just their method of breaking our spirits, and hiding the real truth- green was life. It was growth, and new beginnings, and nourishment- everything humans were, and demons were scared of. This was what she would tell the village with each passing day, to inspire and encourage hope among the non-believers.

'One day,' she would say, 'demons will realize that humans aren't dirty, stupid, uncivilized beings, unworthy of existing on this planet, but instead the future of the planet. Most demons just underestimate us, but a few know exactly what we are capable of. That's why they hide us here in the slums, degrading our already low spirits, thinking they can control us. But soon, we shall remind them of our true place. We are a people that can no longer be controlled!'

"Kagome!"

I groaned, rolling my eyes. Can't be controlled… right…

"There ye are, my child!"

…tell that to Kaede… I locked my gaze on the night sky, refusing to turn to face the woman.

A pause, and then an unpleasant snort followed. Here it comes. "Don't think ye can ignore me, youngling. I know ye think my teachings are that of an old hag, but don't ye forget of who I used to be! Yer mother knows enough to respect me, for she remembers what I had accomplished. You and yer generation are spoiled witless, with no proper schooling in discipline. Why, in my day, I never skipped my training sessions, and look what happened because I worked hard? I was a force to be reckoned with! None could best me with a bow! I'd be felling demons, left and right, atop a horse with-"

"Three legs, I know," I finished curtly, finally spinning around. I faced her in hopes that she would be appeased enough to stop. Heh, fat chance.

"Not only that, but I was a commanding officer in the human rebel forces in the Rebellion! Your mother entrusted me with the duty of-"

"Leading over a thousand troops," I muttered drolly. I rolled my eyes, slanting my hips to lean my weight to one leg, one hand planted on my waist, eying the woman with as much of a lack of enthusiasm as I could. "Ahead of you were demons as far as the eye could see, spanning across the War Plains. Of all shapes, sizes, colors, species, etcetera. You led the men and women into battle, charging with your ferocious battle cry. Swords clashed, people died, yada yada yada, three days pass, you walk away with one eye, we lose badly, blah blah-"

"Do not ye dare treat war so callously, youngling!" Kaede growled, eyeing me with her single eye. I was unfazed. The chill that accompanied the fear from that gaze wore off long ago, but one has yet to convince the old woman of such. "A lot of precious lives were lost in that battle! Or did you forget about your father's sacri-"

"My father did not die!" I roared, throwing a defiant glare of my own down upon the woman. I saw the regret cross her features instantly, but the more rational part of my brain had already succumbed to the rage quickly gaining momentum. "He is alive! I don't care what the hell you, or Mother, or anyone else thinks! They're all rumors! Don't you dare assume you can-"

"Kagome!"

I froze, the last word hanging on my tongue. Just as quickly as it had come, the fury slowly leaked out, leaving me feeling somewhat drained from the experience. A twinge of guilt pricked at my heart when I actually looked at Kaede, the wrinkled skin beneath the eye patch pale, emphasizing her old age more than anything. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her single eye looked up at me with pity.

"Kagome," came the new voice again, and I sighed, yet my scowl refused to be lifted. I forced my eyes stubbornly to the ground as I felt my mother's presence approach from behind, my hands balled into fists at my side. Kaede cast one last long look at me before drawing her eyes to her superior and bowing respectfully, whispering a soft "My Lady," before dismissing herself. Inwardly, part of me screamed for her to return. Nothing good ever came out of a conversation with my mother after one of my anger spurts… especially when they involved my father. Not that I really got angry about much else, mind you.

In my mind, I ran through a list of reasons why I was not at fault, and turned to use them as my defense, but one look at my mother made me forget every one of them. She was giving me that pitiful look, again, the one I can't stand. I hated it when people looked at me with pity, like I was some lower creature whose life was theirs to view at leisure. It made me feel caged, and I planted my feet more firmly into the ground, resisting the urge to pace like a stressed tiger.

"Mother, don't look at me like that," I demanded harshly, hoping to ignite the will to argue back. I was good at arguing. It came from years of experience with my brother. Arguing meant one glared at you instead of feel sorry for you.

But, of course, Mother wasn't one to fall for my ploys so easily. Instead, she sighed, reaching up to cup my face in her hand. I flinched, brows wrinkling in a frown. She's doing it, again. "My dear Kagome. Why do you speak to Kaede like that? Hasn't she been a good mentor for you? She's watched you grow up since you were a child. Why do you treat her so-"

"You know damn well why, Mother!" I replied sourly, tearing my face from her hand. With the sting of my words, she retracted her hand slowly, grasping it in her other over her chest, her pitying expression doubling in force, if that were possible.

I couldn't take it. I looked away, walking the few steps back to the window, gazing out at the stars. I glared at them. They were far away, content to watch the little inhabitants of Earth struggle from day to day. Enjoying the view? Are we entertaining enough? I thought bitterly. I was still firm in my belief that they were up there casting bets to see how much longer we'll last.

"Look, I'm sorry I yelled," I said softly, thinking carefully over my words. "But Kaede- she said… I mean, she… Dad is not dead!" I finally finished, daring to cast a defiant glare at her.

I regretted it. Mother was watching me carefully, studying me in that way that made me feel she knew what I was thinking. Of course she doesn't know what I'm thinking, I chided myself. If she did, I doubt she'd be looking so calm… she'd either be laughing or questioning my sanity… stupid stars…

Movement drew my attention back to my mother as she sidled up beside me, leaning forward against the windowsill, gazing outside. However, unlike me and my idiotic ramblings, her eyes wandered down over the village. Reluctantly, I joined her. Only a handful of buildings still held lighted windows, but most were dark. Of course, it was night, and some people do sleep… even if I wasn't one of them. The deserted streets were further proof of the city's lack of life- no brightly lit restaurants or lively music from clubs and casinos here. I grimaced. More of the privileges reserved for the upper class demons, not for the human trash.

"They do not settle, Kagome," Mother said quietly. I shot her a questioning glance, and reconsidered my previous thought. Maybe she can read minds, after all? "Rather they are happy with what they have, but are happier still with the prospect that they can build upon it, grow something new."

"And you're saying demons don't have that?" I wondered aloud, curious as to where she was taking this.

"Not necessarily," she corrected. "But hope and renewal is something unique to humans. It's what enabled us to survive, and gave us the power to make it through each day."

I frowned, propping my elbow on the sill and supporting my chin on my palm. "But what if you don't want to simply make it through the day? What about the right to live? We have that right just as much as demons do? What gives them the right to think they can take that away from us?"

Mother sighed. She seemed torn between reinforcing her point or agreeing with me. "Underestimation," was her short reply. I waited for her to continue, but silence continued to hang thickly in the air. I breathed a sigh of my own and repositioned myself, folding my arms in front of me as I rested my chin on my topmost forearm, staring out over the horizon. Absentmindedly, I wondered if Dad was over those mountains. I didn't dare think about the alternative.

"You owe Kaede an apology," Mother reminded me gently. A shiver crawled up my spine. A mind reader, I swear!

"I know," I replied automatically, feeling my rebellious anger from before return. "But not for what I said. Only for the way I said it."

"Kagome."

"Mother, Dad is not dead!" I insisted, irritated that I was having this argument with her. If anything, she should be taking my side, not defending against me! "I refuse to believe it! He's just taking his time coming home. Maybe he's being held prisoner? Naraku himself may even have him! I'm not going to give up just because everyone else thinks he's de-… he's not coming back." I refused to look at her, instead fixing my eyes on a rather gaudy looking flowerpot sitting on someone's windowsill several buildings away. Geez, that thing's ugly… no wonder the flower's dying.

"Either way, it would have broken his heart to see you act like this," she told me gravely. "He fought in the Great War to give you and Souta a new life. A better life."

I snorted. "If he wanted us to have a better life, he should have come home," I muttered darkly.

Mother nodded. "Maybe. But humans are only capable of 'can' and 'can't', Kagome, not 'should' and 'would'. If your fa-…. y-your f-fa…" I had expected to take a little satisfaction from her stammering, but surprisingly, I didn't. This just served to wrinkle my forehead and deepen my frown even further. Mother sighed, preparing herself to try to speak again. "If your… father… can come, nothing on Earth could stop him from coming. But… if he can't-"

"Mother," I began warningly.

"Don't," she ordered, being stern for once. "Kagome, I'm not saying that he's dead. All I'm trying to get you to understand is that… if he can't come, for whatever reason, then he obviously can't." It made sense, I suppose, but it didn't make me feel any less irritated.

Another question popped in my mind, although I hesitated to speak it. If Mother started crying now… oh, I'd expect to feel guilty for somewhere around the rest of my life! But, of course, being the foot in the mouth child I am… "And what exactly do you believe that reason to be?" I asked quietly, holding my breath in anticipation of her response.

A heavy silence followed my question with me still holding my breath and Mother staring at me, for once, an unreadable expression crossing her lovely features. Inside, I panicked. The only circumstances in which I couldn't read my mother were either when she was trying to keep a secret, or right before I was about to get in trouble. Neither option sounded rather promising.

Okay, stars. You win. You can send a thunderbolt down from the heavens to strike me down, now… or, if you have even a shred of sympathy, how about a miracle? Yeah, a miracle would be nice…

I always did believe miracles came in strange packages. At that moment, mine came in the form of my ten-year old brother's whiny, impatient voice.

"Mom! Kagome! Come on! What's taking you so long?"

The air escaped my lungs in a single, rushed exhale, and I closed my eyes in a silent prayer.

Thank you.

Not a second later, Souta himself came tearing around the corner, almost losing his balance on the carpeted floor, and skidded to a stop in front of us, gasping for breath.

"I've been looking all over for you!" he exclaimed accusingly, his almost scolding gaze falling on me. Of course, why it had to be me he was mad at when he was looking for both of us, I wouldn't know. But it was hard to be mad at him when he was trying to throw a condescending glare while looking up at me. I bit back a giggle, not wanting to spear his pride. Even though it was very tempting…

"What did you want, Squirt?" I asked as patiently as I could.

"Don't tell me you forgot?" he breathed, shock splayed across his little face.

I rolled my eyes. "What is it that I'm not telling you I forgot, then?"

"Your birthday dinner!" Souta exclaimed impatiently, hopping from one foot to another in poorly suppressed excitement. "You know Mr. Genki, down the street? He's the one who let me and Kohaku arrange the spare parts in his junkyard into our clubhouse. He even helped us build it, and his wife always gave us sweet biscuits and tea. Man, I love her sweet biscuits. You could hardly tell there wasn't any sugar in it. But then again, I haven't had any real sugar since my seventh birthday. Or was it my eighth? I don't remember, but it was one of them. I remember Kohaku was jealous, cuz he said he never got to have a real sugar cake, but I told him it was cuz Mom risked her life for it! Going through demons and soldiers and shopkeepers, even Naraku himself! Wham! Bang! Just like Old Lady Kaede! And then, Kohaku said…"

I rolled my eyes yet again, tuning out the rest of my brother's mile-a-minute monologue. Experience kept me from attempting to quiet him. There really was no point in trying. He wouldn't stop until he realized he wasn't getting any attention… and if history was any example, that meant I could be standing there for a while…

"Souta," my mother spoke up softly.

That works, too. Way to go, Mom, I cheered as her effort gained the desired result. Souta paused in his recount, blinking in confusion and thinly veiled irritation from being interrupted.

I decided to pick up where she left off. "What about Mr. Genki, Squirt?" I said carefully.

Souta blinked, frowned, and opened him mouth to say something but apparently changed his mind halfway through and decided on something else. "I was getting to that! Anyway, like I was saying, Mr. Genki's Mom used her sweet biscuit recipe- by the way, Mr. Genki's wife got the recipe from her, so Mr. Genki's Mom has got to be a lot better than Mr. Genki's wife- anyway, like I was saying, she made a really big sweet biscuit cake, and its got some left over fruits from last year's distribute. She was going to make cheese tarts, too, but she said that there's a thief that's been stealing the cheese around the city. Aki's mom said her best cheese that she made last year for the autumn festival is gone, too. But the cake- oh, it looks soooo good, and, oh yeah, did I mention it's downstairs… like, RIGHT NOW! So, can we go down and sing and eat, already? Cause I really want to eat it! It's been sitting down there all day, just waiting for me to eat it, and I-"

My hand was over his mouth before he could build up any real momentum.

"You don't need anything sweet," I told him dryly, letting go and starting down the hallway before he could recover enough to retaliate.

Suddenly, I remembered something and stopped, and glancing back, looked over my brother's furious expression and flapping jaw at Mother who returned my gaze evenly. I gulped. That look meant only one thing- our little chat was far from over.

AN: So, there's the first chapter... hope you enjoy... and, like "Protect Me", I refuse to promise anything as far as when the next chapter will be posted... I don't mean it to be rude, but I'm just stating the facts... the chapters will come as they come... but then again, you guys have all been great, and I don't need to remind you... just babbling to myself is all...

Next Chapter: Happy Birthday to me

Kagome celebrates her birthday... and gets a hell of a lot more than she bargained for...