Author's Note: In which Inuyasha has a realization that has been a LONG-TIME coming.

A Distant Promise – Drabble #8

"You're fired, Inuyasha."

The words were not meant unkindly, and his boss delivered them in the kindest possible tone. But nothing changed the cold hard facts. He had hurt a student, however unintentionally, and the owner of the dojo could no longer keep him on staff. The one job he had managed to hold down, for longer than a few short weeks, had just been ripped from him due to a single, simple, careless mistake.

Inuyasha had never trained formally in any martial arts discipline, but he certainly had plenty of practice with physical fighting. So, this time, he had expected to hold a stable job – hell, he was actually good at playing part-time instructor at a dojo. Unfortunately, he was too good. Used to delivering real damage to his enemies, his control had slipped momentarily, and now he was alone again, without a chance of references or recommendation.

Great. Just great. Failing out of school, and unemployed, no… unemployable. How was he ever going to catch-up to Kagome in this world? She would return from her freshman year of college in a few weeks, and he had nothing to show her, nothing to make her proud. Even more than when he was a hanyou, Inuyasha felt unworthy of her.

As if sensing his friend's distress, Mamoru sat down beside him in the changing room. Inuyasha didn't meet his gaze. Mamoru had been a good friend to him, so far, though they had known each other a few meager months. Not many men tried to see past the challenging, brusque veneer that Inuyasha presented the world, but this one persevered where others failed. A scruffy, short-haired male, used to being looked down on himself, Mamoru saw in Inuyasha a shining star.

"It'll be okay," urged Mamoru gently, "You'll find another …"

"Where?" objected Inuyasha, "I'm tired of trying to be what everyone else wants me to be. I thought I could escape by taking this position; I thought I could be more like myself here, doing something I know and love. But even here, there are standards to fulfill, and I fall short."

The shorter male snorted dismissively. "Takeo is an arrogant idiot. He wouldn't have gotten hurt, if he did what you told him to in the first place."

But Inuyasha would have none of it. He was feeling sulky, prone to fits of distress, not easily accepting of comfort. "He's in the hospital, Mamoru."

They sat in silence for a time, and the quiet soothed them both. Finally, Mamoru's eyes took on a mischievous twinkle. Standing and stretching his arms, the scruffy haired teen said almost nonchalantly, "Well, I've been delaying this, but you know… without you on staff, I don't really want to work here anymore. So, I'm leaving."

"What?" came the startled reply. If his silvery dog-ears had still been with him, then Inuyasha's ears would have swiveled to focus solely on his companion. Surely not! He had just finally made a friend – a good friend – in this crazy place, and now his friend was leaving? That couldn't be. "Going where?" he asked in trepidation.

"My aunt and uncle on my mother's side run a countryside inn, near some hot springs, and they have asked me to work there," replied Mamoru, eyeing his companion slyly. "I suppose, if you wanted, you could come too."

Mouth agape, Inuyasha stared right back. If he left the shrine, then he would feel lost. He would be giving up on school and big-city life… and Kagome, his mind whispered treacherously. But he pushed away that thought. Truly, he longed to see green fields again. And it wouldn't be giving up on Kagome, not really. After all, she had gone to college and still visited the shrine. No, this would be an opportunity. He could get a job and keep it for once.

So, Inuyasha headed out to parts unknown. He wrote a short note for Mrs. Higurashi, and then…

As the miles slid by, his heart swelled with a strange feeling. He felt adventurous. He felt free. It was marvelous. It reminded him of old-times. And in the shadows through the window of the train, Mamoru's face reflected back the familiar light-hearted, yet world-wise, gaze of a monk. Settling back into the cushions, Inuyasha realized it didn't matter – Mamoru might never, ever be as close as Miroku, but then, life wasn't about comparisons. It was about moving forward.