Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

Terminology

People/Names
Hanyou – half-youkai, half-anything else
Reibai – spirit medium, "ghost-whisperer"
Kannushi – Shinto priest, owner of a shrine
Youkaihanta – ghost buster, spirit hunter
Ningen – human being, mortal
Gekkahyoujin – matchmaker, cupid
Inu – obviously, dog in Japanese
Inugami – a dog demon/youkai
–san — "Mr.", "Mrs.", and "Miss" in Japanese

Things
Shide – zigzag-shaped paper streamers
Youki – typical demonic or youkai energy/aura
Jyaki – wicked demonic or youkai energy/aura
Shikon no Tama – Jewel of Four Souls
Hakama – traditional Japanese pants worn daily in the past

SOULMATE:
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?

2: Bipolar Hanyou

"You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy,
the best golfer is a black guy, the tallest guy in the NBA is Chinese,
the Swiss hold the America's Cup, France is accusing the U.S. of arrogance,
Germany doesn't want to go to war, and the three most powerful men
in America are named 'Bush', 'Dick', and 'Colon'."

—Chris Rock

"I swear he's senile," I whisper to the thirteen-year-old on my right. Souta nods fervently in agreement. It's always great talking about Jii-chan behind his back. But, of course, the old coot somewhat, sort of overhears.

"You swear he's seen the Nile where?" he asks, turning away from Tsuyu, who he'd been having a very intellectual conversation with. When we look at him bleakly, he huffs and turns back to our second cousin, beginning his oh-so-wonderful speech again. "Anyway, so there was a hanyou who came along—"

"Hanyou?" I echo, popping up from the pillow next to Souta and jumping across the low-risen table. I land on the seat across from Tsuyu, next to Jii-chan.

His eyes widen at my abilities, and he blinks before shaking his head. He must've thought he imagined it. I don't blame him; he's pretty old and bonkers… "It's an old story, Kagome," he rasps, scooping up some noodles. "Were you not listening?"

I shake my head honestly, not in the least embarrassed. Normally, I would've been, but with Jii-chan, it's more than easy to space out. After he fake-sniffles, he explains, "Five hundred and fifty years ago, there was a powerful miko with spiritual powers." You know, despite people not believing they ever existed. "She was well-known throughout the lands, and praised for her work despite her young age. When she turned eighteen, she was given an almighty jewel called the Shikon no Tama."

"The Jewel of Four Souls?" Souta pipes in, taking sudden interest in this story as well, though for different reasons. Souta's always loved hearing about anything involving supernatural—that's just him—whereas I'm curious because Jii-chan's mentioned a hanyou. Last time I'd checked, half-demons don't exist. As in, it's impossible for a youkai to mate and have children with a human—I'm pretty sure their chemical make-ups wouldn't mix well since a cross between species is unlikely.

"Yes, now shush!" Jii-chan snaps, and Souta and I cringe away. "As I was saying—ahem—she was to purify the jewel and keep it safe from youkai and evil ningen. It was said that the Shikon no Tama had very strong powers—it could enhance a demon's strength and even make humans youkai. It could grant any wish."

"Any?" Souta asks in awe. I give him a dull expression, though I seriously wanted to ask the same thing. Even if Jii-chan's crazy, it doesn't mean his stories are—especially since demons do exist, there was bound to once be an object known as the Shikon no Tama as well.

"Yes," Jii-chan croaks, clicking his chopsticks. "The miko fought off the wicked people and spirits, protecting the jewel and purifying it whenever she could. She kept it in a sacred location—a Shinto temple—which was protected by guards of sorts. However, she came across a hanyou one day, who'd been after the jewel. They did not kill each other, however. Soon was the miko to regret this decision when on a night of the full moon, the hanyou broke into the temple, stole the Shikon no Tama, and fled the village!"

I jump slightly when Jii-chan seems to be really getting into his story. "Then what?" I ask. "Did she kill the half-demon?"

"No," Jii-chan says, then looks as if he just realized how strange that was. "With a battle wound pulling her down, she followed the hanyou to the nearest Goshinboku. There, she pinned the hanyou to the tree, sending the hanyou into eternal slumber, the only one able to awaken the hanyou being the woman whose spiritual power bound the hanyou there."

"Say, has Jii-chan ever heard of the words 'he' and 'she'?" Souta asks me. "Doesn't the half-demon have a gender?" I just shrug, intent on hearing Jii-chan's story, even if he's saying "the hanyou" way too much. Surprising, I know, but this tale's different somehow.

"The village regained the jewel, but the miko passed away after the hanyou had been pinned," he goes on. "Her last request was for the Shikon no Tama to be burned with her body so that it could be with her in the afterlife. THE END!"

"Nice job, Jii-chan," I mumble, kind of mad that he ruined the finale. "But what happened to the half-demon? Where is he now?"

"HE?" Jii-chan laughs. "YOUKAI DON'T HAVE GENDER!"

I narrow my eyes at him since I know they do. In fact, Souta, Tsuyu, and I all know how real youkai are. Jii-chan just depends too much on legends and stuff to discover the truth. Once the old man calms down, he says, "They say that since that day, his body was so enchanted by the tree and arrow's spiritual powers, he didn't age. His body was frozen in time, defying all logic. However, it was told that a century after the miko died, his entire body was so covered with vines that the tree trunk expanded. If I'm not mistaken, he'd be in the Goshinboku at this very moment."

"And you believe this is real?" Tsuyu asks worriedly, setting down her tea cup.

Jii-chan gasps. "OF COURSE IT'S REAL!" I give him a bored look. "Kagome, don't be wary of your elders! There's a mark on the tree trunk, showing where he'd been pinned!"

My eyes widen a fraction, but I still have my I'm not interested act on to throw the old man off. "Oh, really? Show me."

"FINE!" Jii-chan huffs. He stands up, and we all tower over him as we walk from the tea room into the living room. He hastily waddles through the front door, practically strutting across the shine grounds. He's about to head up to the Goshinboku, but for his own safety—regarding the person I saw earlier—I stop him from going any further with my arm and proceed forward to investigate by myself.

The bark's light and rugged, like any six-century-year-old tree's would be. There's shide wrapped around it, the zigzags stirring ever-so-slightly from the nightly breeze. You'd think there wouldn't be a peaceful wind like that in Tokyo, but I guess even nature can surprise me at times. I scan the tree from top to bottom, stepping over the small rim that keeps animals out. I walk up to the tree boldly, searching for the hole. Surprisingly, right above the shide, there's a small dent where the arrowhead has been burrowed. My eyes turn into slits at it, watching as it glints in the dark night. Judging from the looks of it, where I stood, it looked to be from the feudal era, even though it's surprising the mark hadn't faded from the tree "expanding". And if this was used on the hanyou from the story, then half-demons really do exist.

Pff, yeah. And I'm not a ghost whisperer, demon slayer, or matchmaker in-training.

I face Tsuyu and Souta, nodding in confirmation. If someone had done this towards people who weren't so accepting of youkai existing, then the people would've insisted that the arrowhead was planted there. But, being related to me and knowing of my abilities, the two's eyes widen in surprise. Jii-chan nods defiantly, and his mouth opens as he probably goes on about how he's always right. I wouldn't know, because a swift rustle from above just alerted me that us Higurashi aren't alone.

On instinct, I grab a sanctified pocketknife, take cover, and throw it upwards, only for it to hit solid bark. Damn it, I think angrily and send a warning glance at Souta, telling him to get Tsuyu and Jii-chan out of here. He nods immediately and runs off with our relatives, leaving me with whoever has invaded the shrine grounds.

I draw another dagger, eyeing the area all around me. I see blurs of someone running around—obviously, a youkai—but I can't distinguish their features. All's quiet besides the rustling and Jii-chan's numerous complaints from inside the house. I never look at one spot too long, always spinning in circles, watching for any hints as to where the youkai might've stopped or will be heading.

Apparently, I wasn't looking well enough, because next thing I know, I'm semi-lying on the ground, holding my breath as claws flash in front of my face, the only thing that's in the air. There's a weight on my back, so whoever it is, they've got me good. "Shit," I mutter, trying to feel around for any knives near my back, where the youkai's held my hands together. But it's of no use, and it gets me ticked. I would scream at the demon, but one wouldn't necessarily want to risk anything with a few sharp nails in front of their throat.

"Who do ya work for?" a rough, teenage voice demands from behind me. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, but don't respond. A growl emits in what must be the guy's throat, because he warns, "Wench…"

Wench, my mind automatically thinks, remembering how people in medieval times used that term. This guy must be from the feudal era. Maybe he knows the half-demon? "I work alone," I say sternly, wrenching away from the claws. I fail, though, when his nails decide to tap themselves against my skin, as if just taunting me to get myself cut. I huff, "Dude, I was serious. I don't work for any demon slayer corporation."

It's silent for a moment, then I hear some sniffs behind me. "You're not lying," he says at last. "But then why the fuck are ya here, bitch?"

Bitch? I about turn around break the idiot's neck for that one. "I'm the kannushi's granddaughter," I explain hastily. "Family's a virtue, you know."

I feel eyes bore into my back, probably probing for silent answers. I hold my breath again, this time, feeling some spiritual power soar through me. And, just like that, the weight's off my back, and I'm able to dig out some anklet daggers. I whip around, ready to face off my captor. "All right, you—"

I can't finish my sentence; I just can't. What I see before me is a guy my age with a blood-red, Feudal Japan hunting get-up, complete with hakama and two layers of shirts—both of which, by the way, are tied around his waist. He has tanned skin, bare feet, a good build, and sharp claws as mentioned before. This youkai has a handsome face adorned with two jagged, magenta marks and black lines under his eyes, which are scorching amber with flashing red sclera, glaring at me mistrustfully. His fangs are bared when he snarls, and despite all this, his most defining trait is a thick mane of white hair topped off with two triangular animal ears, both of which represent a dog's.

Ah, an inugami—I think. I mentally nod at the discovery as he continues to growl, threatening me with his claws. "You were sayin', wench?"

I blink, realizing the predicament we're in. For some reason, I have the feeling this guy is someone I shouldn't kill instantly, so I stall. "You know why I'm here," I say, glimpsing at my knife. "But why are you here?"

A rumble erupts through the air again. I raise an eyebrow at that, and he snaps, "Bitch, I live here! Now, how can ya see me?"

I perk up in realization. Is this the hanyou in the story of the Shikon no Tama? It doesn't make sense. If he's a hanyou, he should have half the aura of a demon, not a full one and more. "I'm a reibai, youkaihanta, and somewhat of a taijiya," I tell him, still staring at his face curiously. I didn't think a demon could be so handsome. Who knew?

"Somewhat?" he snarls, cracking his knuckles before running at me. "YOU LIAR!"

"Fuck," I curse as I sidestep him, but not before getting slashed at on the side of my stomach. It cuts through my shirt and skin, but the bleeding's not bad enough to pass out. I glare at him as he tries to come at me again. I grab normal knives, and without a second thought, stab his stomach and favorite offensive arm. "Hey, dumbass, I'm not a threat!" Then, after I put my weapons away, I add softly, "Even though I stabbed you."

He gasps quietly at the wound, probably not expecting it as he gets pushed back a little. He glowers my way before lunging at me again. I inwardly groan. "YEAH, RIGHT!" I dodge the blow from his hurt arm, which he's still trying to attack me with. "She sent you here, didn't she?"

"What're you talking about?" I question, still jumping away from him. He just grunts as he keeps lashing out at me, and finally annoyed, I grab his injured arm and let a spark of spiritual power get to him.

He gets knocked onto his back, and surprisingly, his appearance changes. His flashing red eyes disappear along with their black lines, but the magenta streaks stay. He gazes up at me with guarded eyes, but when I ask, "Are you the hanyou from the story of the Shikon no Tama?" he seems to soften a little. A sly smirk plays at his lips as he bitterly laughs, "Keh, I didn't think the old geezer would believe in shit like that."

I frown. He's kind of avoiding the question, but I've gathered enough evidence. "Why do you have the aura of a full-demon when you're only half, then?" I press, ignoring the way his muscles tense.

Of course, that's sort of hard to overlook when he screams, "I'LL KILL YOU!" and he swipes his good arm at you, markings now completely back as his eyes glow a bloody color.

As I dodge his attacks again, I wonder what this guy's story is. What happened to him? If he is the hanyou from the fairytale, then why is he a spirit? I can tell by the way his feet kind of dip through the cement that he's not alive. But what about his body? Didn't Jii-chan say that it was absorbed by the tree or something?

WHY IS THIS GUY SO BIPOLAR?

I do a growl of my own, imitating him and catching him off guard enough to chop at his neck. Luckily, I hit his pressure point; he goes down to the ground like a rock obeying the laws of gravity. I sigh, tired, and slump beside him. He's out cold—his eyes are closed, his muscles fallen limp, and when I press a hand over his bare chest, I can tell his heart's beating slow, as if alive and asleep. And in case you were wondering, yes, ghosts can get physically harmed from things that can touch them—though I'd thought I'd made that clear before—and some ghosts can sleep and have a heartbeat.

Or so I've heard. I'd never met one who could sleep or pump blood before.

Okay, I think to myself, looking over the places where I'd stabbed him. Now, do half-youkai have human or demon healing processes? I blink before slapping my forehead, realizing I should've thought that over before taking the initiative to stab him twice. I really wish I'd known half-demons existed, I really do. Which reminds me, why doesn't this guy have a hanyou aura again?

"SOUTA!" I yell to the teen, my mind hurting from all this already. It's going against everything I know. Maybe when this guy wakes up, he can enlighten me as to what's going on…? Meh, maybe I should find some way to get him on my side first. He doesn't seem all that eager to cooperate.

My brother runs out of the house like it's on fire, then stops when he sees me. His gray eyes widen as he takes in my bleeding torso. "Sis, you're—"

"Just shut up and help me out," I grunt as I place Hanyou-san's good arm around my shoulders. I slip an arm around his waist and Souta follows orders by picking up my dropped weapons and going to the shed to find a mop…I think.

I stumble up to the front door and shove it open. Tsuyu's head snaps my way while Jii-chan's back is to me, ignoring Tsuyu's sudden interest in something else besides his probably crappy chronicle. I swear, he gets so caught up in stories that he wouldn't even notice if World War III began. My cousin gives a curious look before her eyes light with fret upon spotting my wound. I just smile and shrug it off, though, mentally telling her not to worry about it. But then she notices how my arm is wrapped around something invisible and asks aloud, "Kagome…?"

Damn it, Tsuyu. "Yo, Jii-chan!" I shout as to ignore her question. Since Jii-chan never whips around to look at anything, he just raises his head in acknowledgment. For a distraction, I yip, "Did Tsuyu tell you? She's quitting her job at the office and is going out whoring with some friends!" I don't stick around long to see their faces, but I do hear Jii-chan scolding her and freaking out as if World War III was happening.

Tch. Silly old coot.

I trip up the stairs multiple times, accidentally dropping dog-boy in the process—we can't let him sink through the stairs, can we?—but I finally manage to make it up to what I'd been told would be my bedroom. I grimace at the sight before me—I liked pink five years ago!—but overlook it to focus on the bleeding hanyou leaning onto me. I wonder where I should put him before I decide I don't care and toss him onto my sheet-less bed, making sure he doesn't sink through by tying one of my bracelets around his wrist. I leave the room for a quick moment to enter the hallway bathroom, removing a first aid kit amongst other things. When I get back, I feel as giddy as a schoolgirl—

Well, you know what I mean.

I get to play doctor; it's exciting. After treating myself and spraying, rubbing, and pouring some antibiotics and salves on his stomach and arm stabbings—hehe, my bad—I wrap them around with gauze. All the meanwhile, I feel my self-esteem boost by helping another person and feel smart for knowing what to do in a situation like this. Once he's bandaged up, I take the necessary precautions to avoid him attacking me: place spiritual barriers on towels and around bed, then wrap towels to Hanyou-san's hands and bed posts.

The idiot better not break my bed, or he'll pay.

I pull up my office chair and place it right beside the bed before plopping down. I watch the attractive, strange, mysterious inu-hanyou lie motionless on my mattress, oblivious to all of his surroundings. He looks peaceful when asleep, as if there's no evil in the world, similar to an innocent child.

Too bad there is evil in the world, he's a teenager around my age, and so far, he's shown me that he's anything but peaceful and other good things, such as caring and gentlemanly.

Why did you bring him here, anyways? I ask myself, resting my head on the chair's back as I watch him. The question catches me off guard. Why did I? You don't know.

Maybe it's because I want to hear more of the Shikon no Tama story. Perhaps it's due to his weirdness; I've never really met a ghost like him before, much less a half-demon. It could be because of my curiosity towards finding out more about all this. Who did he think I worked for? Why was his appearance changing? All I know is that I've always killed demons who'd attacked me right on the spot, and yet I didn't do it with this guy. Then again, his youki overruled his jyaki by a landslide; I think maybe the only reason he was trying to kill me was because he was being possessed or something. Was that what the marks were for? He seemed to act much more violent with those magenta marks on than he did a simple face.

I glance at him again, noting that he looks like your average boy, minus the fangs, claws, dog ears, honey-filled eyes, and long, white hair. For some reason, I think staring the crap out of him might give me answers, because that's exactly what I do. I create bad-butt interrogation scenes in my mind until I notice he's beading sweat. Without thinking, I begin to unwrap a towel, and then remembering its purpose, rewrap it. I'm about to run off the bathroom when I recall using up all the towels and sit back down.

Kami, of all things—!

I exhale irately before pulling off my shirt. Eh, it's not like I care if he sees my bra-covered chest or not anyways. I wipe away the dampness on his forehead, furrowing my eyebrows at how his forehead's heating up. Can hanyou get sick? I shrug, not wanting to deal with it before setting my gaze on the full moon outside. Why is that whenever you read a story, the character just so happens to be looking at a full moon, or have no moon whatsoever? Is it some screwed-up part of symbolism, or am I just noticing things? Because I thought it was kind of weird, but—

You know what? I think I'll just go to sleep now.

/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\

This miko doesn't know how it happened, but she somehow fell out of her office chair, stumbled into the bed, hung her head off said bed, and didn't give a damn about who was on it. Well, said miko forgot that there was another person on that bed, and when said miko woke up, she was surprised to see said person did not look happy to be in a room full of pink, lying on a bed with a shirtless girl's legs on top of him while the shirtless girl's shirt is on his face and her feet are on his bare chest.

Really. I'm glad I'm the only one able to see ghosts around here.

When I wake up, that's how I find us. The boy's eye is twitching despite his eyes' abnormal size, and he looks beyond confused. I rub the sleep from my own eyes, mumble an unintelligible "good morning" before closing my eyes again.

Eyes, eyes, eyes…

Then I jerk up when I realize I'm topless.

"Gimme that," I grumble, swiping the shirt from the traumatized hanyou's head. I put it back on before yawning and leaning against my wall. He's still looking at me weird, and then I remember— "Did your wounds heal?"

He blinks, amber irises tired, before glancing down at his bare chest and arm. He asks groggily, "What happened?"

I flinch in annoyance. "You don't remember…?"

He shakes his head slowly. "I saw you walk into the shrine with that old geezer— Wait, who are you?" he asks, suddenly alert.

I roll my eyes. "Well, Hanyou-san, sir, I am the woman who you decided to randomly attack last night, and when she offered peace, you shot her down like a raccoon dog." He raises an eyebrow, and I sigh, exhausted. "You slice at me, I stab you, bud. Then you got knocked out by me." Tie? I think not. I shall reign champ. It's already been determined.

He rubs his temples. "Last night was the full moon, wasn't it?" I nod suspiciously. "I never remember things from those nights."

"How come?" I ask curiously.

"HOW SHOULD I KNOW?" he snaps, though more out of stress than bloodlust—I think.

I shrug. "At least you didn't fake being rude last night—" After his glare, I decide it's maybe smart to tell him the entire story. Thus I do, and he falls silent.

"Oh."

"OH?" I echo incredulously. "Dude, you tried to kill me!That's not cool on so many levels!"

"SO?" he yells back, eyeing me down. It fails, to say the least. Then he huffs, and tries to sit up, but my restraints work, much to his disappointment. "What the fuck?"

"Language," I warn. The F word crosses the line, people, and this half-demon is no exception to my life rules—though I myself am. "Now, will you promise not to kill me?"

"I promise," he says, and even though he doesn't sound like he means it, I untie him anyways. He jumps off the bed, then looks for an exit. Since I know I'm going to see him later—he did say he lived here—I open up the window for him. He shoots me a doubtful look that I shrug at, and without a goodbye or anything else, he jumps out onto the shrine grounds, landing gracefully like a youkai should. Then he runs until he hits Goshinboku, where he climbs to the top before jumping into the neighbor's yard.

To be more specific, the ghost kitsune's home.

Gods, talk about a yuurei-hanyou who needs a big pack of Midol.