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

A/N: I killed the serious tone. That's right, I did. I mostly did humor for this chapter, which I'm sorry for, but hey, it had to come back eventually, right? (Though I think I did kill a few deep moments in this chapter by adding humor… Hm…)

Terminology

People/Names
Yougisha – honorific for a criminal suspect
Gekkahyoujin – matchmaker, cupid
Reibai – spirit medium, "ghost whisperer"
Youkaihanta – ghost buster, spirit hunter
Daiyoukai – "great demon", such as the Inu no Taishou
Yariman – "you whore" in Japanese; a girl who will go to bed with anyone
Onee-san – a child's polite way of addressing a young female stranger
-baachan – an informal yet endearing way of saying "aunt"; "Auntie"

Things
Suikan – Japanese hunting jacket with squared shoulders and wide sleeves (Inu's red shirt)

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

8: The Meaning of Shikon

"It may be that your sole purpose in life is
simply to serve as a warning to others."

—Anonymous

It's official.

Kappa are total assholes.

I mean, who knew they could use duct tape (how did they even know duct tape existed?) and properly tie rope? Because, yes, I am currently off the ground, rope binding my wrists together and wrapped around my ankles, tying me limply to the ceiling, with a piece of duct tape slapped over my mouth, next to a deceased girl with her guts up for show.

Oh, how I hate kappa.

Is this how they torture their victims? All previous evidence leads to no, but if that's the case, why did they only gang up on me before deciding to keep me so comfortable in a demonic hostage situation? And if I'm being held captive, does that mean I'll come across the other kids they've kidnapped? Because, really, it's something to consider.

The bathroom's damp and apparently grimy, its once pristine tiles now coated with muck and dirt while the mirrors are covered with fingerprints and stray make-up smudges. I can barely breathe through my nose, it's so apparent the toilets need cleaning and the air is screaming for some Febreze. My eyes don't fall to the ground, where the girl's blood is, or to the ceiling, where her intestines is in view, or to my right, where her insides are boldly on display—muscles, bones, organs, and all. Instead, I stare straight ahead, looking dead as a heated discussion takes place below.

Well, actually, first I glance at the corpse right next to me, blanch at the guts strewn all over the room, and then focus on the gut-churning youkai below with glaring eyes.

Beautiful. Just freakin' beautiful.

The shortest kappa suddenly squeaks, making me realize I've missed some of their conversation. "No! No!" he insists in a childish tone. "I want her, Ken, and I'm not going down without a fight!"

Sighs echo throughout the room. "Jiro, you may take her," the one I first ran into says slyly, "but only if I can eat her liver afterwards." Then he looks at me with lidded eyes and licks his lips.

My eye develops a tick.

I'm apparently a prize now—the only reason they're keeping me alive. Man, I feel so special. Rolling my eyes, I try to shout, but it only comes out in hopeless muffles. They all chuckle, I fume and turn red in the face, and then they continue talking about me as if I'm not even freaking there. I hate not being in reach of all my weapons. I hate not being acknowledged by my enemies. Oh, and I also absolutely hate being tied up and hung like some butcher's piece of meat.

I HATE KAPPA, I HATE KAPPA, I HATE KAPPA…

"Come to think of it," the greenest one says from the front, sniffing abruptly, "she kind of smells funny." Taking a big whiff that makes my own nose wrinkle in repulsion, he confirms in disapproval, "Inu-daiyoukai."

And apparently, kappa hate inu-youkai. I'm not sure where the daiyoukai has come from, since Inuyasha's not anywhere near royalty, but the inu part has made itself obvious. I still hate kappa, so what a lovely combination of hate, hmm?

"But the only dogs around here are that cold-hearted bastard and his followers," a more knowledgeable demon says with a furrow of his nasty eyebrows. My nose twitches at the notion, as I try to process this new information. There aren't only ookami-youkai like Kouga in today's society, but also an inu-daiyoukai and no doubt even more dog demons supporting him. Who knew? "The previous Inu no Taishou's second son was said to have died long ago, and the only ningen known to be around the current Western Lord is his mate…"

Jiro pipes up, "Didn't ol' Jaken abandon us some centuries ago to follow Sesshoumaru-sama?" Apparently, Jaken and Sesshoumaru—who I'm guessing is this Western Lord—aren't people the kappa like, because Jiro is punished for saying their names by an introduction to many fists and organs to the face.

Meanwhile, I am growing an even stronger urge to scream into a pillow. Ah, great, more kappa and demons exist. Oh, I'm practically jumping for joy.

Or, at least, I would be if my gods-damned hands and feet weren't useless right now!

I sigh, exhausted, blocking out their voices as I focus on a way out of this situation. I'd been cornered with their sharp talons and grossness before, thus had no choice but to be tied up. But now that they're distracted, I think I may have a chance at getting out of this and coming up with a suitable way for escape.

You know, if all the blood stops rushing to my head.

Holding back a groan and ignoring the tension in my eyes, I try to look for an accessible exit; when I'm free of my restraints, I don't want to waste any time that could be used for escaping. All I can think of is the door I originally took behind the bend, maybe some vents in the walls, floor, and ceiling, though I'd prefer the door since any space above or below could've been used for "food storage". With a sigh of frustration blocked by my mouth's restraints that's unnoticed by the kappa, I try fussing with my wrists again to see if my pocketknife will pop out or not. I rub against the rope, being careful of my stance, lest I want to draw attention to myself and end up like Victim #2 over there. I'm somewhat relieved I don't know who the girl is, but slightly guilty for not showing up earlier and getting her identity so I don't think of her as "that chick whose blood I just landed in".

…Shit.

Rubbing my jaw from where it smacked into the ground and staring at the broken and apparently weedy rope in wonder, I only have a second to realize the kappa are coming at me with knives.

Double shit.

I scramble up and away from my opponents, and once in a battle stance, my eyes narrow to enhance my vision and see movements made before they're finished. I draw a long sword from my spine sheath, probably my only hope in this situation, and I swing it to ward them off, which is proven effective for the meantime (though a few of them go bye-bye as my blade accidentally slices through them like jelly). After three of them are gone and they're approaching me again, I question in a bark, "Okay, you assholes! Where have you kept your hostages?"

A few kappa chuckle, amused with themselves probably, and wave their weapons to produce a threat and probably strike me down with fear. It's not working; just annoying me beyond belief. The first one I met smirks, and I resist the urge to stab him right then and there. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Grip tightening on my sword, I growl impressively—I've been around Inuyasha too long—and demand once more, this time not bothering to keep quiet, "WHERE ARE THE HOSTAGES?" I'd hate to just kill these bastards and never be able to find them; it'd probably result in more deaths and questioning from the police, which wouldn't help my current situation in the least.

The greenest just snickers, stepping out in front of Jiro to look me in the eye. I glare right back at him, challenging him to move any closer. And yet, with a few steps towards my figure, he taunts, "And what are you planning to do with the hostages, yariman?"

Following that comment, steam nearly flies out of my ears; the bastard doesn't even know me, and he's already making accusations, showing just how much of an asshole a demon can be. Without thinking, I charge ahead, feeling my heart thud harder as adrenaline pumps in my veins, but two searing rips in my thigh and stomach make me choke on my courage as I grab my newfound wounds, adjusting to the pain as two kappa lick my blood off their knives. Keeping my breathing level and my glaring eyes trained on them as I back away clumsily, I don't look away even when a soft thud below the floor catches my attention, but doesn't faze the kappa, meaning I've just unintentionally found my answer. If the victims are down below in the flooring or crawl space, that means all I have to do is defeat the kappa, widen the vents, maybe disrupt most of the tiles, and send all their captives back home.

Now, if only I could figure out how to take down multiple kappa at once without using all of my spiritual power…

"ATTACK!"

The floorboards practically explode, and everyone—and I do mean everyone—screams when multiple figures break through the panels and tiles covered in dust and filth. I quickly note how short the figures, these people, are before they charge at the kappa with sharpened planks. Despite the people—these kids, the hostages—reaching up to my chest at the most, they're taller than the demons nearby and have longer weapons, giving them an advantage over the kappa. Oh, and not to mention, they're healthy and well since kappa don't like to starve their food, and they're not bleeding from the gut and leg.

…I wish I were them.

As if they've received training and know exactly how to handle these type of demons, the kids charge at the kappa, our enemies, while I back away and rest against the opposite wall, still in shock over their arrival. Are these truly the captives? If they are, why did they stall their attack? How did they learn to fight like this in the first place? Should I jump in and help despite my condition, even though they seem to be handling the situation better than I might ever will?

I let the questions wash over me, churning my insides from guilt and worry, even as they are only cut shallowly and ticked with blunt stabs. And I notice that when you're injured, things happen to pass by faster than they actually do. I watch as Jiro's decapitated by one of the shorter kids, and the head kappa is stabbed in the heart by the resistance's leader, the tallest of them all. Most of them ignore my existence, focusing on their opponents as I struggle to stand and maintain my balance, and flinch when my fingers dig too harshly into my skin as I attempt to heal myself. It works for the most part, small cuts scarring over and returning to unmarred flesh, but for the really deep gash in my thigh and slight internal bleeding in my torso, things won't be going so smoothly.

Since I'm more intent on healing myself rather than watching the battle play out due to the fact that these kids somehow know what they're doing, I barely distinguish the shy footsteps approaching me. Only when a voice calls, "Onee-san?" do I register the silence of the room minus hushed humane whispers, signaling kappa's loss.

Realizing demon corpses are laying all around us, I regard the boy with a dark, scruffy ponytail with heavy, mocha eyes. The group of kids are right behind him, looking relieved and victorious, though by the way their hands are shaking, they must not be used to handling weapons or killing anything of any sort. This sort of throws my "experienced" tag out of the window, throwing me into a loop of confusion as I muse over the possibilities of them being able to defeat such nuisances. Not really sure what to say to the boy, their apparent leader, I glance over the kids and see some of them are injured, too. And since that'll be kind of hard to explain to their parents…

Gods-dammit. I always have to play the good guy, don't I?

One by one, the kids come up and I touch their wounds, releasing spiritual power and rubbing away any blood. And one by one, I explain to the kids what just happened and why all of this—the killing, kidnapping, and kappa overall—should be kept secret. I don't have the energy to knock them out like I usually do, and I don't have the time to look up where each one lives so I can sneak them into the house and pretend nothing ever happened. Judging by the leader's awed expression as he stands guards and I heal the others, he's either never seen miko before, never seen healings taking place before, never even knew miko existed, or most likely (due to the way he handled his weapon like a warrior) is surprised by the mere fact that I am a miko myself.

When the last kid has been healed and they're all in one group, the leader asks me, "You're a miko?"

I knew it. See? I have skills.

I nod, then try to heal myself once more, only to feel sparks of power. Translation: I've just used my powers on these kids. With an irritated sigh, I close my eyes and mentally slam my head into a wall.

Gosh dang it.

"And you're a slayer?" I guess. At his timid nod, I smile before glimpsing to the children around us. "And you'll help me return them home?" He nods again, and I exhale. "Great. Well, we better get going."

And at this, he smiles.

Before we leave, the leader and I sweep out the dust of the demon bodies, the other kids easily amazed by the corpses' random transformations into nothing but dirt as they watch us work with wide eyes. After making thick wads of paper towels and using the taijiya's hair-band to clip them around my thigh while I press the other roll to my stomach, we head out as one large group. (For safety reasons, we decided not to split into larger numbers—that, and half of the kids were terrified of being captured by another demon.) Conversation is clipped and short for the most part, since we're mostly sleepy and exhausted and the kids have probably just experienced an emotional roller coaster ride from being held captive. Some of them must've made friends while hiding, because they exchange numbers and addresses while the leader and I trudge forward, listening to their directions on where to go. We return the youngest home first since the oldest would be better fighters if we come along creepers, and better actors if we're confronted by police for being out this late.

I watch with a smile as the slayer slyly flips open one kid's bedroom window's lock, and they're allowed to climb inside, close their window, and sneak in under the covers. We'd already made an excuse for their random return: They'd wake up, tell their guardians that the killer suspected of kidnapping them had been beaten by some mysterious heroes, and they didn't remember anything after the killer's defeat. This way, their leader and I aren't on anyone's radar since adults would never push children on what they remembered or not due to post-traumatic stress disorders and other possible consequences of pushing their brain too far. As I mess with my alternative bandages some more, the two-front-teeth-missing girl quickly leaves her bed after climbing in, running to the window and giving the slayer a kiss through the glass. He blushes crazily before she even turns around, and I amongst others have to hold in our chuckles.

Slowly, the group disperses as we escort kids home, and all the while, the ponytailed boy is sending me worried glances. He'd tried to convince me to go home first due to my bleeding, but after I assured him it was nothing, that I'd been through much worse than this, he finally relented. And now that very few kids are left, they begin whispering to each other, the taijiya and I breaking our silence at the front of the group as well. He asks me, "So, what's your name, onee-san?"

"Kagome," I answer, though nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk turns my response into a grunt. I turn to him, taking in his mocha eyes. "And you?"

His gaze drifts from me shyly to the direction ahead. "Kohaku."

"Nice to meet you, Kohaku," I murmur as I notice my bleeding has stopped.

A small smile forms across his young face. "Nice to meet you, too, Kagome."

He kind of reminds me of Souta. I blink for a moment before returning the smile confidently because, to be honest, it really was nice meeting him.

We're silent as we help an eleven-year-old into his second-story room, and after he's gone to bed, I remove my paper towels and grasp them tightly in one hand as we head to the last house. The sun's starting to rise by now, my legs are starting to strain from all the work I've put on them by walking and fighting, but Kohaku doesn't look the least fatigued. I ask him about it, and you know what he says?

"I'm never tired."

Well, holy freaking crud. Now I'm jealous of him, especially when he gives me a bewildered look, as if he's never even thought of being tired. I mean, this is just horrible for me, a taijiya/yougisha/youkaihanta/miko/reibai/gekkahyoujin/student/medical-worker. Hells, the amount of my titles should be enough to describe my tiring life.

I huff, and he just smiles in return.

"You know," he says casually, "I heard there's been some paranormal activity down by this one historic shop at the eastern side of town called Feudal Antiques." I glance at the last kid who's yards ahead of us, and upon seeing the coast is clear of anyone eavesdropping, I nod for him to continue. "The media's been dodged, but neighbors are saying the shopkeeper's daughter's eyes won't close—and she hasn't woken up."

"She's asleep," I repeat, "and her eyes are open?" He nods, and I summon a mental picture of the situation. "How long has this been going on?"

Kohaku's lips twist for a moment as he thinks before murmuring, "Two weeks, probably."

If I'd been drinking coffee, it would've spattered all over the place at that moment.

"Two weeks?" I hiss in shock. "I mean…didn't her family bother calling for any help? That's pretty serious, not waking up with your eyes open in two whole gods-damned weeks!" Kohaku slivers away from me when my voice coarsens, and I sigh, realizing I must've looked angry at him. In order to reassure him, I mutter, "Thanks for telling me; I'll check it out and probably give her relatives some bops on the heads while I'm at it."

The mental image of Inuyasha wailing on Shippou, of course, does not fail revisiting me during this time, and I shiver before getting irate with the hanyou all over again. However, Kohaku's realized I didn't mean any harm towards him, and slowly slinks back to my side, making me beam gratefully. I'm not sure how he found out about this new incident, but one thing's for sure: I can trust him, this boy who reminds me of my brother and helped saved many young lives tonight. So, I'll check this Feudal Antiques place out; there's bound to be something weird going on there to start rumors like these.

In a short while, the last kid enters his room alone, since he's the second tallest presumably, and once his window clicks shut, I exhale noisily. Kohaku offers courteously, "I could walk you home now, if you want." I raise an eyebrow, and he blinks before sputtering, "I mean, uh, if that's fine with, well, you know—"

"It's fine," I assure him hurriedly, not expecting him to get nervous over just a raise of the eyebrow. He really is quick to conclusions, isn't he? "I just thought you'd want me to walk you home first; that's all."

"Oh." He blinks, as if that were the last thing on his mind. Then he mumbles shyly, "Well, you know, I don't mind walking you home."

I bite my lip and shake my head, holding in a chortle at his offhanded behavior. "I live at the Higurashi Shrine," I tell him as we start walking again.

After receiving my address, he seems to perk up a little. "You mean where the legend of the Shikon no Tama is sacred?" he questions, and I nod. He smiles a bit, though it fades almost instantly. "I used to hear about that story a lot," he tells me, "with the hanyou, miko, and jewel that could grant any wish." A weird light hits his suddenly grave eyes, making my stomach flip. "It's also kind of sad."

Though I don't know what he means, I nod anyways. "Yeah," I agree. I guess he's referring to Inuyasha's sealing and being eaten by the tree overtime, since not much is gloomy besides the miko's death. "Then again, a lot of things are sad without us knowing it," I tell him absently.

He looks at me for a moment, as if I know something more than I actually do, before turning back to the sidewalk before us. "Yeah."

I nibble on my lip for a moment, musing over the tale of the Shikon no Tama. Inuyasha wanted the Shikon Jewel for something, so he broke into the temple, stole it, fleeing the village… The miko—Kikyou?—protected the Shikon no Tama, cared for Shippou's spirit and body, and on the night of the full moon, pinned Inuyasha to the Goshinboku… Releasing my lip from my teeth, I decide I need to talk with Inuyasha further on the subject of the jewel, since it has too many holes for any solidity. Of course, I'll have to take care of that whole soul mate situation with Jii-chan and Kaede-baachan, Tsuyu and Nobunaga, and Sango and Miroku, too—

Wait: Miroku's part of the Shikon…

Aw, dammit!

How did I not connect Shikon no Tama and Shikon Five before? What the hell—?

"And, you know," Kohaku continues, chocolate eyes hazing over, "sometimes the saddest things are what make us so strong in the first place."

I stop slapping myself on the head mentally, popping back into reality and remembering this is a somber moment. "Yeah," I whisper again, coughing to cover up my lack of attention on the subject.

The streetlights turn off as the sun rises higher, and after taking one look at Kohaku's solemn face, I suddenly am whipped back in time, back to the Cream concert with my parents holding onto my hands. The night where we swung and swayed together, singing along like idiots, my mother high off life and my father tipsy from sake as my vocal cords reached their limits and felt like snapping off. But I was so happy, none of that mattered, though I did wish my little brother was there to see one of the best family moments I'd ever known.

The last I'd ever known.

Thank Kami he wasn't there.

"And maybe…" Kohaku pauses for a moment, expression softening as he looks awed toward the sky and a chilled breath escapes me. "Maybe when we're too strong, we forget we're human? That we should be soft, and not so strong? Or maybe watch our strength before we lose our humanity along the way? Or maybe become too sad, that we lose our strength, and become too soft?

"But… Isn't being soft part of what makes you strong?"

As his words digest, I find myself smiling, even if it's only a poignant tilt of the lips. "Yes," I murmur, adding, "you're absolutely right, Kohaku-kun." I lightly pat him on the back, nearly making him jump out of his jeans from fright. Chuckling nervously at his reactions and resisting the urge to dodge roll in front of a bus for frightening him, I ask tensely, "So, where do you live, anyways?"

He smiles kind of forlornly. I take in stride, though, since it just seems to be a part of his nature. "Not too far from here."

"Oh!" I gasp, grinning madly. "In that case, I'll just take you—"

"WENCH!"

Damn.

"Never mind," I mumble, gaze already on the furious yuurei on top of the shrine steps. Seeing his bared fangs and glaring gold orbs, I shout back at the top of my lungs, "WHAT?" just to piss him off.

And judging by his ears flicked to his skull and his even more furious expression, I've succeeded. "You disappeared in the middle of the fucking night with no note or nothin'!" Inuyasha rages, waving his arms like a mad man (or half-demon). "What the fuck?"

Man, you gotta love how his mouth is so dirty, he could star in Orbit commercials.

"Why should you care?" I snap back, avoiding his grammatical errors only to have a flustered keh! in return. I growl impressively, overlooking the shining of his silver hair against the dawn as I swiftly turn to apologize to Kohaku for our behavior.

Then I blink, my whole night becoming a mystery in a second as I freeze where I am, suddenly lost in thought.

"Wench?"

I nearly pee myself when Inuyasha suddenly speaks up, and turn to glare at him, though my glower dies on the spot. His face, the way his jaw is loose and his ocher eyes sharp around the edges with pure, smooth honey inside as he steps closer, and his lips reach my gaze. Am I really that short? "Are you okay?" he asks in a serious yet uncharacteristic manner, and for a moment, his ghostly breath beats against my warm cheeks, his eyes fluttering closed as those same, provoking lips twitch to a small, relieved smile…

I'm really confused. Is this Inuyasha?

His eyes snap open, giving me a look that screams I'm torn between being pissed and concerned, and then his lasting, tense gaze wanders down to my lower half, where I'm still clutching my wounds. He tenderly reaches out, my grip on myself lost as he takes my wrists in his hands, inspecting my palms and fingers carefully before gazing to the exact spots I held, moving aside the hair-band on my thigh to access the damage. Total relief seems to wash over him as his broad, suikan-clothed shoulders droop as if relaxation has finally came. He murmurs again, almost in a hymn, "You're really okay," before releasing my wrists.

I just stare in bafflement as to why he's jumped from "could care less" to "you're okay (insert tears here)", then look down at my wrists and everything else, which are tingling with some sort of foreign electricity. I mean, whoa. Talk about a total shoujo manga moment.

Suddenly, as if never troubled in the first place, he gives me a piercing glare and barks, "Never leave like that again, you stupid bitch!"

…Never mind.

I raise an eyebrow and snip back, "And you're suddenly the boss of me?" Last time I checked, it was some food-obsessive Chinese legend in the sky, not a yuurei-inu-hanyou. Nice try, though. "I have a right to do whatever I want to as long as it stays in mostly legal boundaries, you know."

"Keh, leaving your brother and Shippou behind," he sniffs arrogantly, eyes poking me over his shoulder as he turns away, hands in his sleeves. I faintly note he really didn't reply to my question nor statement, which gets him a roll of the eyes. Oh, how clever he must think he is. "Really beneficial, huh?"

"Yes, actually," I inform him with furrowed brows, having reeled in my anger the moment it surged to prevent any yuurei-hanyou choking on its cinnamon scent. You really wonder why this guy always has to be so damn difficult, why he can't see the importance in me going over there. "I happened to save a lot of lives tonight, Inuyasha, most of them being captives of those kappa who—get this—were hiding out in the park bathroom, but some of those lives being the people at this shrine that could've snuck after me and gotten injured, too."

You know the best part of an argument? When your opponent gives you a dumb look as if they can't understand a word you just said. That's when you know you're winning.

As I silently rejoice, Inuyasha wonders, "Injured? What the hells…?" Deciding to go with the pissed option from earlier, he informs me in a not-so-polite way, "Bitch, you ain't even reeking of a paper cut."

I raise an eyebrow again at his bad grammar and accusation, then my gaze travels down to my shirt where…where…

There's no wound?

Eyes widening in surprise, I inspect my suit for any scratches at all, patting my thigh and stomach only to feel, well, nothing: no stinging or blood seeping through, only smooth leather. There's not even any blood on my hands, nor a bruise on my jaw from the rough fall I took earlier. I glance again to where Kohaku stood, where he'd disappeared the moment Inuyasha arrived, a warm amber sunset in his wake beginning at the very space he once consumed. Inuyasha yawns before climbing up the steps, occasionally glimpsing at me before scoffing, still acting like the bipolar jackass he is while I stay rooted to the sidewalk, confused about the mist Kohaku left behind, the sudden disappearance of my wounds, and Inuyasha's nice treatment towards me (probably due to that mysterious "birdie"). I finger Kohaku's hair-band still on my thigh, the only evidence of tonight, and remain lost in shock.

Dear gods, did I imagine it all?

"Higurashi-san?"

"AHHHH!"

"Sorry," Hojo Akitoki says, appearing embarrassed for frightening me as I try to regain my breath and calm my heartbeat. I glare at him somewhat, not being able to help myself. Dang, what's been up with people and scaring the life out of me recently? As if reading my thoughts, he assures me in a stutter, "I-I only came here to tell you n-now that I've been avenged, I'll be l-leaving now."

Oh. That he is.

Huh.

Once I manage a smile to chase away his anxiety, Akitoki's increasingly misty figure regards me with a bow and bright grin, and he thanks me again. Apparently, he's awed of my abilities to help others, especially those in his place: the stance between this world and the next. Instead of moving on, he repeatedly rambles about how thankful he is, probably feeling special for being saved. I decide not to steal his thunder and last memory—one he ironically spends with me, his brother's crush—by telling him he's just another lost soul I needed to assist, and instead play along with forced smiles. He goes on, "Why, if it'd not been for you, I'd probably be dead right now!"

…I'm not going to respond to that.

As amber drifts into topaz on the sky's canvas, the ghost gives me another bow before waving goodbye. And the moment he begins disappearing from head to toe, he manages to say one more thing:

"Don't forget your date with my brother!"

Then he's just air, and I'm left to tearfully muse over how naïve the Hojo clan is, but how they never forget a darned promise for others' sakes.

A/N: For those of you who don't know, Kohaku means "amber" in Japanese, hence the symbolic sunset where he stood. However, whatever could the mist resemble? :O I'm not sure how I feel about the InuKag moment, but I know many of you would appreciate even a small romance moment.