Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

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Kagome leaned sideways in her doorway, trying to see what the man was doing. His small blue car didn't have quite as much snow on it as she would have expected—maybe he hadn't been driving for very long? But the next-closest town to Aneston was miles away, and she didn't recognize him (meaning that he didn't live in Aneston; she knew just about everyone who lived in her small town. There weren't many to remember). He must have come a long way… maybe he'd been speeding, that might explain it... maybe his car got washed off at some point during his trip. She noticed idly that his hair wasn't short at all—in fact, it was longish, and tied back in a small ponytail.

Her mind kept busily humming away as the man turned away from the car's still-open door, now holding another form in his arms, almost bridal-style. Yes, he'd been speeding, that must be it, and then probably that unconscious person he was holding right now was someone he'd hit—Oh, god!

Her mind slowed to a halt as the man started walking back to the door, more slowly now, and careful of his burden. She couldn't even feel the cold of the outside air any longer. Oh, no, he killed someone! There's a dead person, and he's going to bring it into my house! I shouldn't be seeing this! I'm only seventeen, I'm not used to this…

The stranger stopped abruptly, seeing the look of horror that was undoubtedly plain on her face. "Is it… should I leave?" he asked, worried. The expression on his face nearly sent her into tears.

Oh, god, of course he's not a murderer… I have to help him! I have to! But... what happened? "No, of course not!" she said hurriedly, stepping to one side in the still-open doorway. "C-come in here…"

As the stranger came closer, she moved forwards to help him. The person's head rolled back against the stranger's arm as he was brought inside, a black hat slipping across his forehead. It was a boy, she realized, probably little older than she was, and with strikingly handsome features. Even with his eyes shut and his skin pale, there was a certain delicacy to his face that was rare among men, a softness almost, that gave him a nearly feminine appearance. Closing the door, she bit back the urge to stop moving and just look at him. Very suddenly she noticed the blood.

"Wh-what happened?" she asked in shock, even as she helped the stranger to lower the boy to the floor. A very strange feeling of unreality was sweeping over her. This was not the sort of thing she would ever have predicted—oh, yes, this winter I think I'll find a couple of strangers and let them in my house. She'd never seen so much blood in one place. This wasn't right. Strangers didn't happen in Aneston. Neither did blood, at least not in such copious amounts. The red stuff was everywhere now, she noticed in a detached sort of way. It had gotten onto the stranger's coat, turning its navy colour into a deep black. It was dripping onto the floor.

"I don't know what happened," said the stranger. His face was nearly as pale as the boy's. "I was just driving. He stepped in front of my car. I think… I think he's been stabbed."

"Stabbed?" demanded Kagome. What was this leading to? Nobody that she knew of would do such a thing, it just didn't happen here… unless this stranger had…

"Not by me," said the stranger, lifting his hands almost defensively. "I didn't see what happened… I don't think either of us will know until he wakes up."

Kagome leaned over the boy, trying to track the source of the red that was beginning to leak onto the green carpet of her mother's bookstore, and suddenly began fumbling with the front of his jacket. The stranger, seeing her intent, assisted her, and together they finally managed to undo the front of the heavy, blood-soaked anorak.

Kagome sat back on her heels, biting her lip. There was a hole in the boy's black shirt beneath the coat, a ragged patch of cloth that glistened in the bookshop's artificial light. The unreality intensified. Such a thing did not belong here. She didn't want to pull away the shirt, didn't want to see, but…

The stranger was doing it for her. She didn't wait around, as the feeling of unreality was rapidly slipping away, and hot panic was quickly taking its place. She stood up, hearing the stranger inhale softly, then pause before saying, "he's still alive."

Kagome ran for the door that led to the upper level of the home. "M-MOM!!"

:0:

Miroku was getting steadily more muddled about the whole affair. He hadn't slept at all since the explosion, which had been a full two days ago (hadn't eaten either, if he came to think about it). And now the boy who he remembered from childhood was back… was it a coincidence, that all this had happened so quickly? He wasn't sure any more.

The girl who had let him in (he'd have to thank her for that later, he was sure, but for now there were more important things) had run to the back of the bookstore, calling for her mother very loudly before disappearing up a staircase that he presumed was hidden somewhere at the back of the shop. He could hear her voice receding, even as responding noises began to sound from the floor above. Sounded like someone—no, several someones were getting out of bed.

He'd been worried that the girl was alone at home. What would he have done then? It would take more than just him and a girl who didn't look like she could be any older than fifteen to help this boy… he'd been stabbed! After the boy had fainted, Miroku had gotten him into the car and driven on, searching for somewhere to go—a hospital, maybe, somewhere that he could get help. But no. This kid had picked the worst possible place to get himself stabbed—out in the middle of nowhere, in a place where no medical help seemed to be available, and in fact the only light was from streetlamps and a single closed bookstore.

What the heck happened to you? he thought, looking down at the still face. Was the boy paler, or was it just his imagination? He had to hope not. If something happened—if the kid took a turn for the worse, he didn't know what he could do. He had already thought far enough ahead to disguise the boy's more… unique attributes, namely the clawed hands and the white, pointed ears that nestled amongst masses of long silver hair.

Those ears were so familiar… he wanted nothing so much as to remove the hat, and the gloves, and just look at those ears to see whether he would remember more by doing so. But soon the girl would be back... he couldn't let her see, couldn't let any of them see.

He avoided looking at the hole in the boy's chest, now exposed to the open air. That would serve only to make him panic more, and he didn't need to see it again. Especially not now that help was coming. His breath was still coming too quickly for his own liking, though. Damn it, I'm still too frazzled from the explosion! he thought angrily, clenching his teeth. Why does something have to happen now, of all times? Unable to think of anything to do, unable to do anything particularly helpful, he just sat, and he waited, until footsteps sounded from behind him. Everything happened very quickly after that.

A woman who must have been the girl's mother approached him from the back of the store, contained her natural reaction long enough to take control of the situation and sent the girl (whose name was Kagome, Miroku discovered) upstairs for some sort of medical supplies. She'd wanted to send Miroku for an ambulance, but some instinct deep within him made him refuse vehemently as he could from within his daze. He knew that if the boy's... less-than-human appearance were discovered, there would be trouble. It would be hard enough to hide it from Kagome and her family.. the mother was already beginning to look at him with suspicion. It did make sense, though, as the nearest hospital was miles away, and another long trip in a car wouldn't be good for that knife wound (at least, he assumed it was a knife wound... what else could it be?). The woman stared at him for long moments, but didn't argue. Miroku could only sigh and go back to helping... after all, he was only making himself appear more and more suspicious by the second.

Kagome, thankfully, took the situation at face value. She didn't seem to suspect anything... or rather, to put it a better way, if she suspected anything, it was the truth. After all, Miroku wasn't lying... much.

Meanwhile, the rest of the household was waking up. The house and shop became so noisy for awhile that Miroku was briefly afraid that the boy would wake up, but no such luck... he slept like one dead. It seemed that in addition to Kagome and her mother, an old man and a young boy also lived there, and it also seemed that they had both been woken up by Kagome's shouts. There was brief confusion downstairs, quickly resolved when the mother told them all that if they were going to remain awake they might as well help out—the little boy worried Miroku, but he was kept aside until the injured boy was out of sight.

The boy was moved from his place on the floor just inside the door to a bed upstairs, leaving a fair-sized bloodstain in the green carpet to mark his presence. The little boy (Souta? Miroku couldn't focus very well on anything, not even to remember the kid's name) crouched down and looked at it until Kagome, remembering his presence, yelled at him to go upstairs and sleep. Miroku felt a vague sense of agreement: the kid couldn't help, and sticking around would only distress him. Though as the kid didn't seem to be very disturbed in the first place... maybe he didn't understand what was going on. After all, living here, he must have led a very sheltered life.

At some point during the ordeal the girl's mother took Miroku aside and spoke to him earnestly. Her eyes were dark and serious as she looked at him, though he couldn't sense any actual ill will. "Look, young man… I don't know what's happened, and I won't ask you outright if you don't want to talk about it. But at some point I would like to know whether or not we are doing the right thing by taking you in." The meaning in her words was clear: Please tell me I'm not committing some sort of crime by helping you, please tell me you're not a criminal...

He nodded, understanding, and told her his name, and added what he'd told the girl—that he was driving, nearly hit a stranger, then got out of the car only to realize that the boy had been shot. No need to tell her that I think I know who he is… The mother had seemed relieved, perhaps believing him, perhaps not, and went to help the others.

Things quieted down somewhat after that. Relieved that the boy was alive, Miroku slid down in a chair that Kagome brought in for him and watched the younger boy sleep. He had been carried upstairs to a spare bedroom, a small chamber with a small window on the second floor. There wasn't much furniture in it, aside from the bed, a bookshelf, and of course Miroku's chair. The boy wasn't moving, and Miroku slowly began to fall into a daze.

Kagome walked in, looking at the two men briefly. Souta and grandpa had both gone back to bed; her mother, claiming to have done all that she could for the moment, was in her bedroom and probably asleep as well. But for some reason, Kagome didn't feel like resting at all.

"Hey," she said to the stranger in the chair. "You know, I never did get your name."

He roused himself briefly. "Hm? Oh. It's Miroku."

She looked over at the boy on the bed. "Ah. Do you know what his name is?"

"Inuyasha," said Miroku without thinking. Moments later he realized what had just come out of his mouth and sat bolt upright. Well that just about destroyed the excuse he'd made! Damn! he cursed himself inwardly. Simple logic stated that if he knew the boy's name, then he knew the boy, and while this was, in fact, the truth, he'd earlier told these people that they were strangers. He waited for Kagome to notice his slip.

"Inuyasha," said Kagome. She was frowning down at Inuyasha. Miroku felt absurdly relieved—she wasn't about to ask him whether he did know the younger man after all, it seemed. "Well, that's… an interesting name." Suddenly her brown eyes flicked to Miroku and settled on him with a measure of concern. "Are you okay, Miroku? You look really tired."

"D-do I?" said Miroku, blinking. Now that he looked, Kagome really was quite pretty… No! No, he wouldn't start thinking about that now… in his state of mind he wasn't sure what would happen if he settled into that familiar train of thought. "I'm okay, really."

"Oh, come on," she snorted, putting her hands to her hips. "You're all pale-looking, you were shaking earlier, and you still seem really tense. You heard what mother said, right? It's not that bad. Inuyasha will get better soon, all right? So stop worrying."

Miroku felt dazed. Thinking back, he thought he may have heard Kagome's mother saying something of the sort, but he hadn't been listening. And when had he been shaking? Well, if it was true, it wouldn't surprise him, but it did annoy him considerably that someone else had to notice for him.

"Here," said Kagome, taking advantage of his seeming indecision to press a book with a slightly wavy cover into his hand. "It's on the bestseller list in the city. Take it, and if you can't sleep you can read it. You can have a bath, too, if you like, to get the blood off you. Just get out of this room."

Miroku took the book, startled. After staring for a few seconds, putting his thoughts in order, he stood up. "All right," he said. "I'll do that." He walked to the door and paused. "Uh… where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall, to your left," Kagome told him, and he turned to walk away. She called out after him. "And be careful with the knobs on the tub! The one that says 'C' is in French—it means hot. And don't twist them too hard, or they'll fall off!"

"Okay," said Miroku, grinning slightly and not really listening. A bath... a bath would be just the thing right now... He looked down at the book in his hand, thoughtfully. Its cover was slightly damp. Some sort of weird romance…

:0:

Kagome sat down on the chair Miroku had just left and looked at Inuyasha again. Her mother had said he would be fine, and she trusted her mother's word, but… he was so pale…

His shirt and anorak had both been removed, and before she could stop herself she found that she was staring at his chest. Crossed with bandages, she could still see enough of it to make her feel uncomfortably warm inside. Slightly tanned, thin but certainly not skinny, muscular without being beefy… Kagome hadn't seen very many shirtless men in her life (in fact none, unless she counted Souta and occasionally grandpa), but she was certain that she would be hard-pressed to find another boy with such a well-built body...

Oddly, neither his gloves nor his hat had come off during all the moving. The hat was slipping sideways, though, and she could just see a wisp of pale hair escaping from beneath it. There was something odd about its colour, but she couldn't quite grasp what it was. She tucked it absently back inside the hat, noting with a bit of relief that his skin was warm. With the awful pallor of his face, she'd half-expected it to be cold as ice.

This is definitely a new experience, she reflected as she leaned back in the chair, never taking her eyes off Inuyasha. She'd never had to go through anything remotely like this before—in addition to the strangers, which were rare enough, there was an actual gunshot victim in her house! Why someone would have been shot out here was a mystery to her, but so much was right now anyway. Who was Miroku? And why, despite the fact that there was absolutely no reason for it, did she feel as if she could trust them both?

"Well, you're just one big enigma, aren't you Inuyasha," she told the unconscious boy lying in the guest bed. "I suppose we'll have to wait till you're awake to find out anything, though..."

Without really meaning to, her eyes were drawn to his face. The hat was covering up nearly all of his hair, except for a few more stray wisps her and there. It seemed that his hair didn't like being confined by the hat. Plus it has to be really hot... the house got cooled down when the window opened, but not by that much...

Before she even realized what she was doing, her hands were reaching out for the headpiece in question. It was one of those funny toques with earflaps. She grasped one of these flaps lightly and rubbed it softly; it was some sort of wool. His hair beneath it was soft as well. She began to tug on the hat, readying herself to pull it off...

"AHH! It's cold!" shouted a voice from down the hallway. Kagome jumped, dropping the hat, then turned towards the doorway and waited for a few seconds, patiently, hearing footsteps approach along the hallway. Just as Miroku entered the room, looking somewhat sheepish and wearing little more than his shirt and a towel, she fixed him with a stern glare.

"You weren't listening to me, were you," she said accusingly. "I told you that the knobs are labeled differently here, Miroku, and I guess you didn't hear me."

"Labeled...?" said Miroku weakly.

"Yeah," said Kagome. She cocked her head to one side, eyeing him wryly. "In French."

Miroku blinked. "French?"

"The 'C' on the knob to the left stands for 'chaud,'" Kagome told him, enjoying his expression and trying not to show it. "Which means hot. Therefore, if you wanted a hot bath, you should have turned that knob a lot more than you probably did."

"Ah," said Miroku. He half-turned as if to go again, noting briefly that Inuyasha's hat was askew. Had she seen...? "Thank you, Miss Kagome. I'm truly sorry for intruding on you like this."

It was her turn to blink. "Oh, don't mention it, Miroku. I've said it before: what sort of person would I be if I left you two out in the snow?"

"Well, I suppose," said Miroku, turning around again. He couldn't help smiling as he left the room. Miss Kagome, you really are too trusting... Not that this was a bad thing, of course. If she weren't, he and Inuyasha might very well have been left outside after all... and chances were, Inuyasha would have died.

Miroku didn't want that. Especially not now... after losing his father, being on the verge of losing his one-time best friend as well was a thought that made him cringe. No, he thought, stepping once more into the washroom and casting a resentful glance at the bathtub full of cold water, I'd rather step right into the middle of whatever's going on than have him die... an adventure would at least take my mind off... STOP BLOODY THINKING ABOUT IT!!

He very nearly jumped into the cold bath then and there, shirt, towel and all, just because he knew it would distract him. Stopping himself, he instead unplugged it and waited for enough water to empty out that he could refill it... this time with warm water from one of those deceptively-labeled taps. What next? Well that was obvious. He would wait for Inuyasha to wake up, then he would find out what was going on, and find a way to get both himself and his childhood friend out of Kagome's house before the household found out about Inuyasha.

It is a pity, though, he thought as he finally deemed the bath to be empty enough to begin refilling it. Kagome is such a pretty girl...

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Well, there's another chapter. I didn't know Miroku was going to turn out so introverted until I'd written the thing, he has a lot more angst involved in his character here than you'll usually find. No one ever really portrays him as an angst character, I've found. He's always the one speck of lighthearted wit amongst all the depressing-ness of the other characters. Well, I'll find someone else to be the humour in this... just not till it's gone far enough...

And poor Inuyasha... in both of my fics, he starts out unconscious (well, sort of). Yes, he is a hanyou in this story (half youkai). Just thought I'd clear that up before I went any further. And also, please account most of the weird stuff to the fact that this is an AU, an alternate universe, and therefore some things are different. If you review, please don't point out things that I have specifically set up as a part of the story. I haven't actually made a mistake that contradicts MY story yet, and that's the sort that counts in fanfic, right? (A fic can contradict the original series, but if it contradicts itself without a good reason then it's probably a mistake)