Kaede left with Kagome's mother in the minivan, taking the boys with them as well as the other boy, the younger brother of Sango whose name was Kohaku. They were going to have their own sleepover at the shrine.

Miroku and Sango emptied the saddlebags of their bikes, Kagome hoisted a large yellow backpack up on her shoulders, and they all went in. Inuyasha, of course, stayed outside a few more minutes to grudgingly wash his dirty bare feet off with the hose.

Earlier Kaede had swept and vacuumed the living room and dusted significantly. Inuyasha had helped her reset Tessaiga into the family crest, both wondering how it had even fallen in the first place. They also polished Souunga, which had a few pieces of dried something on the blade. The culprit, the dried-up apple under the sofa, was found and thrown away. No one dared to approach Sesshoumaru about it.

All three of the visitors set their bags against the wall, unconsciously trying to keep the place neat. Inuyasha dried his feet on the rug in front of the door and went in after them. Sesshoumaru left them alone and went upstairs.

He'd decided that once they had arrived, he would take a break from studying. He now laid down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, the only light in the room from the fading sunset orange on his walls.

He lightly dozed off. They were being quiet downstairs, their words a low murmur in his ears. They eventually put a movie in, which was also set to low volume.

After it was over maybe an hour and a half later, there came a few noises from the kitchen directly below him. The fridge opening and closing, the gentle clank of a ladle in a pot, plates and bowls set on a table.

A creak from the stairs let him know someone was walking up them. His eyes trained on the doorway and Inuyasha stepped into view.

"Hey, bro, you asleep?"

"No."

"We need some forks and spoons."

Sesshoumaru got up and followed him downstairs. No one said anything as he went over to the drawers and unlocked them and brought the silverware out, as if locking the utensil drawers was normal. Maybe it is normal in their houses, too, Sesshoumaru thought.

He could understand if it was Sango's case. Inuyasha had told him that her little brother was autistic and kept in his own little world most of the time, which caused him to hurt himself often by tripping and falling and cutting himself on things. Knives and forks would be too dangerous if left alone with him.

As for Miroku, his foster fother was a spartan drunkard. He wasn't overly physically abusive, but his tongue was sharp.

And Kagome had the two little brothers. Disasters in the making.

"Aren't you going to eat, too?" Inuyasha asked, seeing his brother had only pulled out four sets of spoons and forks. Sesshoumaru paused. He'd need to wash them and lock them away again afterwards. Might as well stay down here in the meantime. He brought out another set but kept them on the counter.

Kagome, who had been stirring the pot, took a bowl and poured the thick stew in it and handed it to him. He leisurely ate it standing up, watching the four interact. All four of them prayed over the food, which Sesshoumaru had never done in his life. It wasn't taught to him back in the House. Then they resumed idle chatter whilst eating. They talked about school, about teachers and projects and tests, some small tidbits about their family lives, which were all uncomfortable to listen to for Sesshoumaru. They all seemed to have their problems.

Shippou was still being bullied because of his small stature and strange hair and eyes, plus the fact that he was quick to cry. Souta had gotten hurt again trying to protect him. Kagome's mother was contemplating pulling them out of school and setting up a homeschooling course for them.

Kohaku, who had been opening up more in his own classes, was starting to close up again. Kohaku spent his "off" days at the Higurashi household under the care of Kagome's mother. Sango felt terrible at having her best friend's mother having to watch over him, but it was the only way since they had no living parents. The both of them had been police officers and had been killed on the job.

Miroku's blood father had sent him a letter recently. He was complaining about the lack of women in the prison system, which he was spending quite a few more years in due to several accounts of sexual harassment and rape. On a lighter note for Miroku's life, his foster father Mushin had turned from a sharp tongue to philosophy and pretty much left him alone in order to stare outside, wondering about the mysteries of the world.

They talked of Inuyasha's condition, which seemed to have improved lately. After the incident at the grocery store, nothing major had happened. He'd gotten the shakes on a few occasions and had a few hallucinations, but nothing exceptionally bad. He hadn't had an unconscious need to hurt himself, which would usually surface and take over his mind. The urges to maim were gone.

Their talk turned to the weather, which was humid and sweltering. They marveled at the air-conditioning in the brothers' house, an expensive luxury they all envied.

"It's required," Inuyasha said, biting into a chunk of meat. Mouth full, he pointed at his brother, who blinked at him.

"That's right," Kagome said, gasping. "You were standing outside earlier without sunglasses on. Are you alright?"

Sesshoumaru felt them all watching him, silent. He set his empty bowl down on the counter. "The sun only hurts when it is overhead." Then he wanted to bite his tongue. To say the sun hurts him was a thought that he could not handle, much less admitting that it did. The feeling of openness between the friends had now obviously gotten rid of some of his own inhibitions. He closed the door to his heart with a solid push.

"How does that work?" Sango asked. "Are you allergic to it?"

"It's poisonous," Sesshoumaru said automatically, scoffing in his mind at being allergic to the sun, then cursing at himself for still stating that it was a weakness to him. Apparently that door had not shut all the way.

Sesshoumaru locked eyes with Inuyasha, who was silently watching him.

"If you're done," Sesshoumaru said to them all, turning to the sink. There was a sense of finality in his voice. They all washed their dishes and he put the forks and spoons away. As soon as the drawer was locked, he retreated upstairs, away from them, but left his door open a crack in order to listen.

They all seemed to be quieter than before, which was fine with him. He closed his eyes and drifted off.