Nearly four months in, the talking stick breaks, and they leave with homework.
Kagome wrinkles her nose at the mangled stick in her hands and unlocks her car. "I can't believe he expects us to make another one."
The sentiment is one he shares, and it's tempting to throw the damned thing as far as he can so they never have to see it again. "That is not all he expects of us."
"Yeah." Suddenly, she looks tired. "Tonight?"
Empathy stirs in his chest, and he shakes his head. "Not tonight."
Her shoulders sag in relief. "Good. I hate homework."
