Chapter Two: A Glimpse into the Future
It's official. The old BTBL has been scrapped (please, no torture instruments!). In its place, we have a spanking new BTBL with (hopefully) a much more cohesive plot and much better writing. A lot has changed and will change, so old readers, be on the alert! But don't worry (this comment is especially for aradow), the overarching plot is still the same. I'm still a mad fan of fluff, so there will be plenty of that, but hopefully this time I won't spend three chapters in a row on one single day and then suddenly jump two months into the future.
Wanna hear a secret? (whispers) I actually intend to write a real story this time, not a fic that's fifty percent filler! (GASP!!)
Also, from here on out, I will be using Japanese honorifics with the characters' names, since a lot about their relationships with each other can be inferred from a simple "-chan" or "-sama." If I use one incorrectly, please feel free to correct me!
Japanese Word of the Day: yogen – prophecy.
Disclaimer: No. For this and all future chapters of BTBL, the Inu-tachi, Naraku-tachi, and assorted other characters from the Inuyasha series are not and never will be my property. (sniffle) So sad.
-- -- --
Feudal Era, late MayAfter a lifetime of practice, Miroku had perfected what Sango cynically called his all-knowing-monk gaze, a thoughtful, dignified, penetrating stare he often put on when first walking into a village. It had served him well, he found, to immediately reveal his status as a powerful young monk. Not only did people respect him more, but they tended to loosen their suspicion of strangers around virtuous men such as he—Kagome-sama and Sango would die of laughter if they heard that, he reflected with a sardonic grin—making them that much more susceptible to some good-natured swindling of money, food, or women. Or any combination of the three.
Today, however, was an exception. Today's all-knowing-monk gaze was fully intended to be just that: an alert appraisal of the small, bustling village that lay before him and his companions. Yes, his eyes might possibly have strayed the few times a particularly well-rounded young lady had entered his field of vision, but all in all, his relative success in maintaining focus pleased him.
Unfortunately, the others were too focused themselves to notice his good behavior. He let his eyes skitter back towards the group before sighing at his unnoticed achievement and returning to his perusal of the village. Inuyasha, of course, probably could care less. The half-demon knew him too well, choosing to save his energy and not bother to scold Miroku for his kimono-chasing, as Kagome loved to call it, unless others picked up on it first. It happened too often for Inuyasha to muster up the initiative every time.
And besides, just now, the half-demon was too preoccupied with the village before them to really pay attention to anything else. His stance was tense and alert, and he gripped his sword, the Tessaiga, with one tight-knuckled hand. The monk noted with exasperated amusement that his friend had automatically positioned himself in front of Kagome as an aggressive living shield.
How long will this little charade last? he silently asked Inuyasha, studying the villagers' movements for anything suspicious. It is already obvious to everyone how defensive you are of her. How long before you realize why you are so protective?
It frustrated him to no end that Inuyasha was truly so dense. But at the same time, it was understandable. Kikyou, the woman who Inuyasha had loved, lost, and recovered through a tangled, heartbreaking series of events, held a strong grip over Inuyasha even fifty years after their romance had been tragically cut short. An idiot like him, when pulled between love for two women, would always go for Kikyou: the woman who wouldn't reject him. The woman who needed him. The woman who loved him.
It was really too bad that Inuyasha didn't know that those criteria fit Kagome just as well, if not better.
Kagome, holding Shippou in her arms, was chewing nervously on her lip. The group's rough morning showed in the bags under her eyes; grotesque demons of unnamable variety had roused them from sleep a solid hour before dawn, and their sheer numbers had kept them busy for many hours after that. The sun was already high overhead by the time Kagome's arrows, Miroku's Kazaana and ofuda, Sango's Hiraikotsu, Inuyasha's Kaze no Kizu, and the return of the fierce Kirara had killed them all.
He shook his head. It was troubling, this sudden surge of second-rate demons that had begun ever since Naraku's disappearance. Naraku's demonic power had grown strong enough that most small-time demons had chosen to lay low; the fading of Naraku's aura had emboldened such demons beyond anything the young monk had ever seen in his life.
The trying day had not stopped with victory over the demons. Kagome and Inuyasha had once again managed to start squabbling with each other, the subject of useless arrows somehow morphing into Kagome accusing Inuyasha of wishing that she were Kikyou instead of herself. The comment had struck a deep nerve in them both, and they had barely spoken for the rest of the day.
But now that the village of the woman they had heard rumors of was in sight, they had wordlessly established some semblance of a truce. Inuyasha had moved to protect her, and she willingly accepted, her fingers tense on the wood of her bow, but with anxiety, not with anger. So they had made up. Perhaps fear and nervousness were good for something after all.
He heard Sango shift slightly as a single figure from the village below purposefully made its way to their little band. Typical Sango. Always ready. Always on the alert. Always strong and ready to fight.
Despite his apprehension, he studied her from the corner of his eye. She never failed to take his breath away. Women like her—tough, reliable, kind, loyal women—didn't belong in this imperfect world, in the presence of imperfect men like him. Women like her didn't deserve the suffering she had gone through at Naraku's hands: the death of her kinsmen, the loneliness that so often accompanied lone survivors, and the pain of her own little brother's enslavement under Naraku. Women like her simply didn't exist.
And women like her certainly would never be his.
With a sigh, Miroku pulled his eyes away from the tense Sango, re-focusing himself on the approaching figure that he now recognized as the village headman. They had called for the man upon reaching the village, deciding that it would be safer to wait on the outskirts while he fetched the woman they had heard rumors of. And now, he was returning alone. Was that a good sign?
Perhaps. The middle-aged man looked a bit tired, but less cautious than he had been when first speaking with them. With a nod to each of the travelers, he bowed slightly and began, "I apologize for forcing you to wait for so long, but it took some time before her husband would approve."
"Her husband?" Kagome asked, raising an eyebrow at the headman. "You mean he has the authority to dictate who may or may not see his wife?"
There was ice in her voice; Kagome had never approved of the authority husbands often held over their wives, which puzzled Miroku somewhat. Yes, some men took things too far, but if a wife did not obey her husband to some degree, protecting and providing for her became not only difficult, but also unrewarding, and most sensible husbands—forget husbands, people in general—didn't like going unappreciated.
Then again, Kagome had always had some very strange ideas that were probably peculiar to her time. It was only natural for her to see the traditions she had grown up with as the right ones.
Strange as her disapproval was, the headman seemed to understand, and he bowed again, deeper this time. "Begging your pardon, honored traveler; I did not mean to offend. The woman you are asking after, Hanako-san, is in no fit condition to govern herself, and so her husband has taken it upon himself to attend to her needs and her safety."
Miroku could see Inuyasha bristle slightly and felt a fleeting desire to do the same. The way he had added "safety" seemed to imply that they were a danger to the indisposed Hanako, an obvious insult to travelers under any circumstances. But his fear was in a way justified. Naraku's disappearance had initiated a huge surge in demon attacks. The bloodshed and villages' weakened defenses caused by demons had in turn lured out bandits and worse. How were simple villagers to know if a suspicious group like his wished them ill or not? Instead, Miroku bowed in return, drawing the man's attention away from his half-demon friend.
"Offend? Not at all. Then, if all is in order, may we meet Hanako-dono?" he graciously prodded. He heard a soft growl at his words, but it hadn't been Inuyasha who had found offense. Sneaking a glance as he straightened again, Miroku suppressed a grin at the warning glare Sango had leveled at him. Don't you dare try anything funny, monk, her eyes warned him.
Even under the tensest circumstances, some things never changed.
-- -- --
"We must look so peculiar to the poor villagers," Kagome confided to Shippou as he clung to her hair.
The young fox demon looked up at her. Seeing her from this vantage point, cradled gently against her chest, was something unique to his relationship with Kagome. Not even his own dam had carried him this way very often, preferring to press him to walk on his own and to quickly become a man she could be proud of.
And yet there were times when Shippou could see a fleeting resemblance between Kagome and Mama. The warmth in their eyes—one pair gray and familiar, one pair fiery green and existing only in his memories—was the same. The way they rushed to protect him, the way they took secret joy in spoiling him rotten: they were the same.
There had also been times when Shippou briefly thought that he might be in love with Kagome. She was one of the prettiest women he had ever known, and one of the kindest as well. But, beauty or no, Kagome was simply too old, too motherly, and too in love with Inuyasha for Shippou to love that way.
And thank goodness, he thought with a mental grin. Inuyasha would tear me apart if I were in love with her. Especially since she lets me share her sleeping bag.
No, most of the time, Shippou didn't see Kagome as a mother or as a love interest. He didn't see her as a sister, although he certainly thought he was her family in some weird way, and he didn't see her solely as a friend. He saw Kagome for what she truly was.
Kagome was a sweet girl, a kind girl. The kind of girl who would take a bitter, insolent brat into her arms with no thought for reward. The kind of girl who would rush to shield him from a fire that would surely kill them both. The kind of girl who loved Inuyasha despite all of his idiocy.
In short, Kagome was an angel.
Shippou smiled to himself and snuggled closer to her. He didn't know how he'd found the good fortune to be so close to someone so perfect, but he wasn't about to let a second with her pass without milking it for all it was worth.
"I mean, think about it," she was saying to him, looking around and meeting the eyes of a few wary villagers. "A girl all dressed up in modern era clothes, a half-demon, a monk, a fox kit, and a demon slayer, all in one group. Even to me, there's something peculiar about this picture."
"Ah, they don't matter, Kagome," he assured her, deciding to clamber up onto her shoulder. That way, he got a better view, and would be able to react faster in case Kagome needed defending. Never mind that fact that his legs trembled at the very thought of such a situation. "We're okay with each other, right? Well, most of the time."
She chuckled and gently tapped her head against his. "Most of the time, yes. Although I still think we're all pretty weird in our own ways."
In protest, Shippou tickled her neck, making her squirm to suppress a giggle. But before he could say or do more, the village headman leading the group suddenly stopped in front of a perfectly ordinary-looking hut. Kagome's hand went to Shippou's shoulder, whether to comfort him or quiet him he wasn't sure. Whatever her reasons, Shippou always interpreted the touch as a signal to be as unobtrusive as possible, so he sat back and watched as the headman gestured for their group to stay put. Alone, the wrinkly man approached the hut, calling out, "Hiro-san! The travelers are here to see your wife. Is she fit to greet them?"
There was a pause before a tired man's voice answered, "In all honesty, I wonder if she has ever been less fit…but she seems calm, yes. We'll be out in a moment."
Shippou heard Kagome's breathing hitch nervously as the screen across the door shifted slightly. A relatively young man with nothing out of the ordinary about him—worn robes, topknot, and all—poked his head out and said to them, "Honored travelers, please do not think less of either of us when you see my wife. Hanako…is not well, and one man can only do so much when he attempts to farm, keep house, and care for his wife all at once." He tiredly rubbed his face. "Despite my increased responsibilities, she will tolerate no one's aid except my own."
Kagome leaned forward curiously, and Miroku nodded at the villager. "Of course, Hiro-dono," he said to the tired-looking man. "Please, we feel that your wife could provide us with some valuable aid. We will not judge." Kagome nodded emphatically with Miroku's words.
Looking skeptically at them all, Hiro ducked back in, and then pushed the screen back entirely. He and a haggard woman who must have been pretty once exited, his arm around her waist, both supporting her and dragging her forward.
"…her eyes," Sango whispered, quietly enough that only Inuyasha and Shippou with their sensitive ears heard her. "Look at her eyes."
Shippou looked and almost instantly regretted it. Although Hanako's eyes were deeply set and shadowed from lack of sleep, they sparkled with wildfire and drew him in like the black, whirling night sky that lay between the stars. He shuddered and buried his face in Kagome's hair. "I don't like her," he whimpered, fisting his small, barely clawed hands in her somewhat tangled locks. "She's scary."
"She's not scary, Shippou-chan," she breathed back, patting his back. "She's just…strange."
Shippou forced himself to look again, peeking out from behind a black curtain of hair. "But…her eyes, Kagome…" Her twin brown orbs were oddly empty, staring blankly past their faces as she made small, meaningless gestures with her hands. She seemed nothing short of insane.
"Hanako-dono…" Kagome stepped forward. She handed a cringing Shippou to Miroku, who placed the boy on his shoulder, and stepped toward the strange woman, her hands outstretched and her voice gentle enough to charm a rabbit out of its hole. "We have heard of you, Hanako-dono. Do you know anything of the mark of a spider, or a half-demon named Naraku? If you do, could you please tell us? It would be very helpful." Slowly, Kagome took one of Hanako's slightly twitchy hands, holding it between hers and smiling soothingly. "Can you help us?"
Something seemed to light up in Hanako's eyes, and her haggard, remote gaze slowly settled on Kagome, and then moved across the others. Shippou shuddered and turned away when she looked at him, but she didn't seem to mind, or even notice at all. He felt Miroku's muscles shift as the monk adjusted his grip on his staff, preparing for the worst. That was one of his best-kept secrets: easy-going as he might appear, Miroku was constantly on his guard.
But now…what was he on guard against?
The fox demon shook like a leaf and clenched in his fists in an effort to hold back his fear.
Suddenly, she spoke, and Shippou felt Miroku stiffen. "The Spider Brand…" Hanako whispered in a frail, distant voice, raspy from disuse. "The Spider Brand…the time comes when the spider must be crushed."
Shippou chanced a look at the woman and saw her pulling away from her husband and from Kagome, her eyes fixed on some point in the air far above and behind their heads. Her voice gained strength as she continued in that vague way of hers, "He takes the gods' greatest secret and makes it his own. The gods are angry. Too long, they say, too long have they permitted this perversion of the natural order to continue. The spider must be crushed, they say, but they cannot do it alone. He is too powerful. He holds too much knowledge of the working of the spirits. Only a mortal has the power to defeat him. A mortal. A savior. A chosen one."
Her formerly dull eyes, now sparkling with an unnerving fire, swept across the group, seeming to see right past their faces and into their very thoughts. "A savior will come. A savior has been called. A mortal, a child of both heaven and hell, who knows kindness most tender and pain most cruel. A mortal, a savior, the only one with the power to crush the spider, will come."
Hanako closed her eyes and turned slowly, her movements now totally calm and in control, her voice even and commanding, her very presence imparting some power beyond anything Shippou had ever experienced. Kagome backed up until she stood at Inuyasha's side, and even Hiro moved slightly away. There was no doubt. Hanako did not only speak of the gods. She spoke as the gods.
"A word of warning to pass to the savior," she breathed to the empty sky, her eyes still closed. "Deep, troubling times will come. Strength will be tested, determination strained, and the spirit pushed to its limits. False aid will come, poised to attack when the heart is unsuspecting and tender. False enemies will be marked, and trust will face its greatest test."
Her eyes opened, and although Shippou was sure that she wasn't looking at anyone in particular, she somehow seemed to stare every one of them directly in the eyes, a chilling wisdom in her formerly clouded gaze. "The heart and mind are treacherous beings," she cautioned them. "Mindless emotion and unfeeling thought create illusions to fool even the gods. Friendships and alliances will waver, and logic will turn to madness."
Suddenly, Hanako's eyelids began to flutter tiredly, and the strange, otherworldly look to her eyes began to fade. Her mouth opened and closed as she swayed side to side, trying to force out a last few words. Hiro was instantly at her side, holding her upright but looking apprehensively at his wife's face. "All…" she whispered, her voice once again becoming raspy. "All…is not as it seems."
With that, all of her strength seemed to leave her, and she collapsed into Hiro's arms. The surprised and concerned cry he uttered as her body went limp seemed to echo in the profound silence that followed her strange declaration. Shippou was afraid to move, afraid to shatter the awed tension in the air.
It was Hiro who finally broke it, giving them an awkward half-bow and then carrying his wife back into the house. All of their eyes followed the couple until the entrance curtain fell, leaving Hanako and Hiro in privacy and the others seemingly barricaded outside.
"Thank you…Hiro-dono and Hanako-dono," Miroku belatedly called out, finally snapping them out of their reverie. Kagome and Sango were eyed each other uneasily, and Inuyasha huffed, staring off into the distance. Miroku's empty left hand rose of its own accord to softly stroke Shippou's hair, a comforting gesture that the fox demon had long outgrown. Miroku, who of course had once been Shippou's age, was usually careful to respect Shippou's boyish pride. But by forgetting, he signified that he was in deep thought, so Shippou graciously chose not to complain.
It was the headman, overlooked until now, who finally shattered the awkward silence and timidly offered, "Honored travelers…if you have found all you wished to find, will you move on, or will you be requiring lodgings for the night?"
All five of them jumped at the sound of his voice. Miroku, as always the first to recover from shocks such as these, glanced at the others and then smiled at the older man. "A room or two would be deeply appreciated. We grow weary of camping amongst the rocks and shrub alongside the forest path."
"Of course." The headman, who had looked deeply troubled by the appearance of demons, strangely dressed girls, and a world of other things he didn't understand, seemed glad to have achieved some sense of normalcy. He bowed to them and bid them, "Of course, you must stay at my home; the largest in the village. Please, come with me."
But while he seemed to have recovered from Hanako's strange pronouncement, the rest were still uneasy, so the walk to the headman's home was for once silent, lacking the banter, arguments, and discussion they were accustomed to. Instead, troubled silence hung over their group, somehow magnified by the village bustle and the other familiar sounds of what should have been an ordinary mission.
-- -- --
"'The time comes when the spider must be crushed,'" Sango heard Kagome recite the third time in a row. "'He takes the gods' greatest secret and makes it his own. The gods are angry.'"
The atmosphere in the room they had been given was tense, to say the least. Every last one of them was unnerved by the strange Hanako, troubled by her rant that seemed nothing short of prophecy, and above all frustrated that she hadn't presented any clues to Naraku's hiding place. The demon slayer gritted her teeth as Kagome, Miroku, and Shippou went back and forth, trying to burn Hanako's words into their memories. Although Sango could understand why—they had all had heard a strange urgency in the woman's voice—it certainly got on one's nerves after a time.
Inuyasha seemed particularly irritable. The half-demon sat silently against a wall, his head bowed and his sword held close to his chest. However, his ears were swiveling wildly in agitation, and his expression was tight.
Really, none of them were at peace. Kagome, Miroku, and Shippou were talkative, open types—so they dealt with their discomfort by talking. Sango herself was meticulously checking the condition of her Hiraikotsu, perusing the whole length of bone, a full arm length longer than she was tall, for scratches, dents, and even smudges of dirt. Poor Inuyasha was a man of action; he was very likely wishing for some demons to appear so he could work off some stress.
"A savior…" Kagome said thoughtfully. "Let's assume that Hanako-dono wasn't simply acting crazy back there and actually said something worth listening to. Remember when she said, 'A word of warning to pass to the savior'? Does that make us messengers to the savior? Or"—she cast her eyes around the room, looking at every one of her friends—"does that make one of us this chosen one?"
"Keh." Inuyasha opened one eye to glare at her. "Who cares? No matter who this savior is, whether or not he exists, it doesn't mean I'm going to stop hunting Naraku! I could care less about 'the chosen one.' Naraku will die."
Sango set down Hiraikotsu on the floor before her, absentmindedly fiddling with a rag she reserved for polishing her weapons. "Hanako-dono…she said the savior would be a child of heaven and of hell, didn't she? To me, that seems to imply…"
Four curious gazes turned to Inuyasha, and his still-closed eye opened wide. "What?"
"It makes sense," Miroku murmured. "Heaven would probably imply humans, and hell the demon race. You are a child of both. And you are mortal. And I know you won't argue with the fact that you're strong enough to fight Naraku."
"Well, yeah, but…" The half-demon's protest trailed off into nothing as he stared self-consciously down at the Tessaiga. His voice was surprisingly small when he said half-bitterly, half-wonderingly, "The chosen one? Me? You've got to be kidding."
Sango caught Kagome looking at Inuyasha with a strange light her gray eyes before the girl from the future suddenly stood and announced, "Well, this isn't something we can just make a flash decision on. It has to be thought about carefully. In the meantime, I'm going to go find some water to brush my teeth with, and then I'm going to bed."
She was about to protest Kagome's abrupt change of subject when she noticed the younger girl's hand softly brush Inuyasha's shoulder as she passed him. Although the contact was light and lasted only a moment, Inuyasha visibly relaxed.
I see. This talk is troubling Inuyasha, and Kagome-chan wanted to give him time to mull it over for himself. Besides, today was a tense day; we deserve some rest. A smile flitted across Sango's lips. I guess they forgot about that fight they had this morning.
"I'll go with you, Kagome-chan," Sango announced, standing and picking up the Hiraikotsu to place with the rest of their belongings. "I'd like to wash up a bit before bed, for lack of a proper bath."
Unfortunately, the route she had taken took Sango right past Miroku, and he reached out to touch her arm as she passed. The instant of contact had an immediate effect on her, like Kagome's touch had had on Inuyasha, although she certainly didn't feel relaxed. Instead, she stiffened, her awareness of danger instantly jangling like a warning bell.
"Be careful out there, Sango-sama," he cautioned her, somewhat ironically as he'd already set all of her senses on full alert. "With Naraku missing and so many more lesser demons around, we must all be extra cautious."
Even though the more reasonable part of her mind was shouting that this was only friendly advice, Sango couldn't help but feel flattered that he worried about her. Instantly, she shook the feeling away and then turned to face Miroku, rolling up her right sleeve. As she always did when they were out on potentially dangerous missions, she wore black gauntlets that extended from a ring on each of her middle fingers to her elbows. Under the seemingly flimsy black leather, there was a layer of flexible, armor-like hide taken from the skins of demon reptiles.
Sango pressed her fingers down on her right gauntlet, drawing the fabric tight against a blade concealed between the armor and leather. That was only one of the many weapons she had concealed under her clothes. She even had a needle that could be thrown like a dart hidden her hair. "Never forget, houshi-sama. I am a demon slayer. I'm always cautious."
He smiled at her, and as hard as she tried, she couldn't keep a small piece of her mind from sliding into idiotic bliss. "Believe me, I could never forget."
An instant later, Sango stiffened. She should have been ready. She should have known. What ever had happened to "senses on full alert?" Was she just a fool…or was it…
Before she could complete the thought, her hand snapped out of its own accord, the sharp sting of angry demon slayer's palm meeting perverted monk's cheek clearing her mind of anything but anger. Miroku's face was frozen in an expression of bliss and his hand in the gesture of cupping her butt as he fell to the floor from the force of the blow.
"Will you ever develop any sense of propriety, houshi-sama?" she hissed at him, lightly rubbing her tingling palm against her apron skirt. "I wonder sometimes if you possess any sort of soul at all, so easily tossing out words that make women think you actually care! And then…!"
With a huff, she whirled around and marched toward the door, leaving the pervert twitching on the floor. "Well, Kagome-chan?" she asked harshly. "Shall we go? It would be a good idea for us to remain cautious and make sure neither of us is left alone with this…thing." She gestured disdainfully at the pile of black and purple robes on the ground.
Kagome heaved a despondent sigh and nodded. She caught up with Sango, a basket of "toiletries" in her hand and an exasperated expression on her face. The moment Kagome drew even with Sango, she set out again, fuming under her breath.
"Stupid houshi-sama…almost a year together and still he hasn't grown any wiser about women at all. Who does he think I am, a common whore throwing myself at his feet for the 'pleasure' of his swindling, two-faced company? Doesn't he see…doesn't he realize…ugh, can't he tell that being groped by a pervert looking for passing pleasures isn't what I want?"
"You know, Sango-chan," Kagome commented, sifting through her basket and bringing out a peculiar object she called a toothbrush, "if Miroku-sama hasn't wisened up about women, don't you think you should enlighten him?" She met her friend's eyes with a suspiciously nonchalant smile. "If he doesn't know what you want, why don't you tell him yourself?"
Sango snorted and reached back to untie the ribbon that held her hair in a ponytail of sorts. She ran her fingers through the released tresses and replied, "And risk him completely taking advantage of the opportunity, as he always has done and always will? Certainly not!"
"How can you be so sure that that's what he'll do?" Kagome shot back, her eyes suddenly glittering with a peculiar brand of excitement that Sango had learned to dread. "Are you really sure of that? And are you sure that you really know what you want?"
"And what is that supposed to mean, Kagome-chan?" she asked snippily, speeding up when she felt her cheeks begin to heat of their own accord. Please, not this again…
"What if what you want is what Miroku-sama is already giving you"—glancing from side to side for eavesdroppers, Kagome caught up and said in a loud whisper—"and more?"
Desperate to escape the conversation, Sango almost cried with relief when the well came into view. She sped up even more and quickly drew up a bucket of water, immediately scrubbing at her face and thus rendering herself incapable of holding a conversation. Unfortunately, the gesture only seemed to encourage Kagome. The younger of the two sidled up to her friend and murmured, "I'll admit, he is being entirely inappropriate. But could it be that you want to have 'that' conversation with him that will make his groping you appropriate?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Kagome-chan!" Sango said loudly, fumbling as she tried to retie her hair. "Houshi-sama's lecherous habits are and always will be completely inappropriate! Why would I ever accept them? I swear, someday I'll make him realize that they aren't ever going to get him anywhere—"
"Ah-ha!" Kagome's basket came precariously close to spilling all over the ground as she lunged for Sango, her eyes glinting half-teasingly, half-maliciously. "'Aren't ever going to get him anywhere', hm? So if he stopped groping you and flirting with every pretty face he comes across, would that finally get him somewhere? Where would that somewhere be, hm, Sango-chan? Are you saying that if he quits his kimono-chasing, you would—"
Kagome's attack abruptly stopped, and Sango let out a relieved sigh. She was about to deny everything Kagome had implied in as dignified a manner as possible when she realized that her friend's suddenly wide eyes were fixed on some point past Sango's shoulder. "Kagome-chan?" She turned to see what had interrupted their conversation and gasped. "Oh…Kagome-chan…"
A vaguely reptilian, somewhat bug-like creature glowing with an unearthly light wove its way through the air, its six spider-like legs clutching a glowing ball of light to its belly. As the two young women watched, the intruder flew towards the headman's home.
"It's one of Kikyou's soul stealers. Coming for Inuyasha. Sango-chan, you go back…I think I'll stay out here for a while," suggested Kagome, abruptly turning away and speaking in a strained voice. "Can you…will let me know when it's…okay to come back?"
Sango silently finished tying her hair and murmured, "Of course, Kagome-chan…but you never know. He might not—"
"Inuyasha? Not see Kikyou?" Kagome laughed sarcastically at the prospect. Without turning to face Sango, she walked back to the well and placed her hands upon the edge, leaving forward slightly and gazing into its depths. "Please…just let me know once he's gone."
Sango nodded and began walking back to the room. As she headed toward the house, she heard Kagome softly whisper, "I don't think I can bear watching him leave me one more time."
He shouldn't be leaving you, Sango fumed, stomping angrily down the passage leading to their lodgings for the night. Who is it who has been supporting him, without question, without hesitation, for more than a year now? Who is it who wishes most for his happiness, even if it means giving him up? You, Kagome-chan! It's you who always trusted him and always bore him up when times got rough! What kind of gratitude is this?
"If anything"—she hissed to herself—"Kagome-chan is the one who ought to be leaving Inuyasha."
(end)
-- -- --
And there you have it. Chapter two. I truly, deeply hope that all readers liked it and, almost more importantly, that old readers thought it better than the original chapter two.
Anyways, let's ramble for a bit! During my loooong absence, I got into The Prince of Tennis! I'm not really sure why I like it, but it may be because of the characters. PoT is a sports manga, and it focuses singularly on tennis, so you'd think that there'd be no room for character development, right? Wrong! Somehow, Takeshi Konomi makes it work! And it's just so amazing! You even start rooting for rival schools (I'm a fan of Hyoutei, myself). I dunno. It's just awesome.
And don't even get me started on the musicals! (fans self) Gorgeous actors galore! People like Shirota Yuu, Aiba Hiroki, Katou Kazuki, KENN--
Okay, if I don't stop right there, I never will. So I will conclude. First, I hope you liked! Second, read PoT if you get the chance! (try thespectrum(dot)net: she has scanlations for all 35 currently existing volumes, and rotates through them ten at a time every three or four days or so...and hurry! I think the first ten books just came back up today (Thursday)!)