The sun was rising over the tops of the hills, its soft light enveloping everything it touched in warmth. Birds began to chirp merrily as they chased each other in the treetops. The entire scene was one of peace; one would never have guessed that time itself had swallowed up a priestess' reincarnation, bringing evil back into the area to seek the Sacred Jewel of legend.

"Keh!"

Damn that woman! She had said three days!

Inuyasha sulked in his place among the branches of Goshinboku. Part of him knew it was too early to be upset, as the third day had only just dawned. But he had never been a patient person. At this rate, many of the jewel shards would already be picked up by other demons. Their job would get harder with each moment wasted. If Kagome had wanted to use up the whole third day too—delaying the search for the shards until the fourth day—she should have said so! He resolved to go through the well and drag her back himself if she didn't show up soon.

.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

.

Kagome's mother sighed. The house had gone quiet, both children having left for school and her father off reorganizing his family heirlooms in the storage shed. Life at their shrine had changed so much! Her daughter had somehow been sent into the Feudal Era and had come back telling tales of demons, magic, and the Sacred Jewel—the real one. And then she had run off again, saying something about demon hair that only she could see. The unusual turn of events was enough to make anyone dizzy; Kagome's mother was no exception, but she trusted her daughter and believed in fate. She knew that the well's magic must be real and that there must be a reason Kagome had to go to the other side. The question that remained was simply, what could a mother do to help? She pondered this as she ascended the stairs and opened the door to her daughter's empty bedroom.

The first and most obvious answer that came to mind was laundry. Kagome had complained about the lack of modern technology on the other side, and how she couldn't take baths or wash her clothes as much as she wanted. Her mother considered the types of soap that might be good to pack, her mind busy as she opened the closet doors to collect the dirty clothes from inside.

"No bath salts, if there are only natural hot springs," the woman mused out loud, "but I bet she'd appreciate a new, full bottle of shampoo. I'll add it to the shopping list…" She gathered up the clothes from the bin, turned around—and froze.

There, on the windowsill, was the dog-eared boy who had barged into her kitchen only a few days before. He seemed just as shocked as she was; his body half inside and half outside the room, one hand bracing himself against the top of the window, as if he had stopped mid-landing. Wary golden eyes met wide brown ones as the two stared at each other for one long moment.

The woman was the first to snap out of it. Dropping the clothes to the floor in a heap, she cleared her throat and put on a smile. "Hello there."

The boy didn't move. She started to take a step toward him, a hand outstretched, but stopped in her tracks when she heard a low rumbling sound. The boy's eyes had narrowed, and he was… growling? His ears were tilted back, his hair flowing down over his hunched shoulders as he stayed in his crouched position on the windowsill. He looked exotic, otherworldly, his eyes seeming to glow with a wildness that sent chills down the woman's spine. Her gaze strayed to his long, wicked-looking claws.

This creature was dangerous.

This creature was with her daughter.

And suddenly she remembered the most recent story the young girl had told her: a story of their battle with the hair demon, in which this very boy had taken not one, not two, but three separate sword-wounds while protecting Kagome. A story in which his red haori had saved the girl from demon fire. In which blades made from his blood had severed the deadly hair strands that had closed around her daughter's neck…

It had sounded too strange to be true, but Kagome was too terrible a liar to have made it up. And that meant that her mother owed this boy more than just a little thanks.

The growling had stopped, so she gathered the courage to speak again. "I don't think we met properly the other day. I'm Kagome's mother."

Silence. Then… "Where is she?"

"She went to school a few hours ago. She said that today was her last day here for a while, since she'd be going through the well again first thing in the morning…"

The boy still hadn't moved an inch.

"Please, come in," the woman offered. "Kagome won't be home for another six hours, I'm afraid. But you can wait for her here if you'd like."

No luck. He was still just as tense as before. Kagome's mother sighed, turning her attention back to the pile of clothes on the floor. She bent down to pick them up again.

A moment passed as the woman re-stacked her daughter's school uniforms, towels, and pajamas. Her house guest said nothing, but she soon heard a rustle of fabric and saw that he had come all the way in, sitting with his back against Kagome's bed and watching her intently.

Maybe they were making progress after all. She smiled at him. "Make yourself at home. Feel free to come downstairs, I could use the company. Or you can wait in here—I'm sure Kagome wouldn't mind."

.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

.

After depositing the dirty clothes in the laundry room downstairs, the woman went to the kitchen to get started on lunch.

It wasn't much later when she heard footsteps from her place at the kitchen counter. Her unexpected guest had stayed in the bedroom at first, but Kagome's mother turned around in time to see him making his way down the stairs, slowly and cautiously, nose twitching. She turned back to the vegetables she was chopping, letting him explore the house at his own pace.

And explore he did. Even the sound of his footsteps disappeared completely as he crept slowly around the living room, sniffing absolutely everything in the vicinity, his hands held at the ready but refusing to touch anything. His eyes were wide and alert, and his ears flicked at every sound. All in all, he looked much like a spooked cat. Kagome's mother was sure that if he had had fur, it would be standing on end. She felt a sudden pang in her heart for this boy; he was probably just as afraid of this world as Kagome was afraid of the Feudal Era. This was his first time really being here—that other day didn't count, she reasoned, because he had just grabbed Kagome and gone straight back to the well. Not only that, but the young girl was not even at home this time, which meant that the silver-haired guest had to fend for himself without anyone familiar there to help him…

Kagome's mother glanced around her living room and kitchen with new eyes. For the first time, she noticed all the things that she normally took for granted: a television, a couch, a radio, a stack of magazines on the table, a stove, a coffeemaker, a microwave. Her eyes wandered down to the kitchen knife she had been using to chop vegetables, and she suddenly realized her mistake; she hastily put the sharp weapon into a drawer, out of sight. Standing very still, she waited until the boy finished his inspection.

It took a while, but at last he seemed satisfied. He moved to sit down on the floor in the center of the living room, his golden stare fixed on her again. His movements were slow and careful as he settled himself, and that was when Kagome's mother remembered—he was injured! Her daughter hadn't gone into details about where or how bad the injuries were, but it was obvious that he was hurting.

"Oh! Where are my manners, I'm so sorry!" She began to bustle about, filling two glasses with water from the tap and bringing them into the living room. Sitting down on the floor with him (he inched away and she took note of his personal space), she set down the water and tried to start a conversation.

"Are you hungry? I was making some soup for lunch. You're more than welcome to have some." She took a drink from her water glass and waited, hoping for some kind of response. Finally her house guest spoke.

"Strange," he muttered. He seemed to be addressing himself more than her.

She smiled at him. "What's strange?"

"You're just like her," he said hesitantly. "But this is a shrine. I'm a demon. What are you up to?"

"I'm not up to anything. Demon or not, you're my guest."

"Do you always greet people like this after they come in your window?"

His tone was serious, but she thought she could see a hint of a smirk in his expression. Was he trying to joke with her?

"You sure startled me back there," she admitted with a chuckle.

"You startled me too." His voice was gruff, he sounded almost embarrassed.

The woman just smiled. "Remind me your name? I think I only heard it once."

"Inuyasha."

There was a pause. Then Kagome's mother put her water glass back on the floor and bowed, deeply and formally, to her guest.

"Inuyasha. Thank you for saving my daughter's life."