InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Of Gods and Monsters ❯ Chapter 22: Reflections on Childhood ( Chapter 22 )

Thanks to my lovely, gorgeous, wonderful betas, and to Everstar, who I sometimes think should be credited as a co-author for how much she does!

Chapter 22: Reflections on Childhood

The night sky twinkled brilliantly, bathing the world in moonlight. Kagome watched the black expanse contemplatively, her mind turning over -- for what wasn't the first time -- her tree-top conversation with Inuyasha. If she let herself, she could almost imagine the warm, solid chest behind her and the strange, almost weightless sensation of nothing but thin air beneath her feet.

'He said I should claim mine already.'

'Well, that's silly,'

'Silly?'

'Well, the way that sounds, he was talking like you already had one to claim.'

Groaning, Kagome squeezed her eyes tightly shut. "I told myself I wasn't going to think about this anymore!" And, in truth, she'd kept more or less true to that declaration. She'd been remarkably diligent in the week since they'd left the den. She almost never thought about the conversation when Inuyasha was around. Almost. And then there were the times when he wasn't around. Like now. Kagome sighed softly, picking out more and more stars as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. I should have asked.

A traitorous voice whispered through her mind. No, you shouldn't have.

Just then, there was the gentle rustling of footsteps through grass and a soft, female whisper. "Kagome-chan?"

Starting a bit, Kagome sat up, peering into the darkness. "Oh... Sango-chan. Do I need to come back?" She tilted her head, looking into the darkness that hovered behind Sango as she scanned the area for a flash of silver hair.

Sango smiled down at the younger girl as she waded through the tall grass, carefully navigating her steps. The last thing she needed was for her foot to get caught on an unseen tree root, sending her flying. She looked around at the small clearing her friend had found at the foot of a small hill before glancing back over her shoulder at the shallow slope she had come down -- they had set up camp just over the hill. "Well," she answered, "that depends on who you ask." She gave a small shrug. "He's grumbling, but nothing out of the ordinary."

"Okay..." Kagome wasn't sure whether the news left her relieved or disappointed.

Sango smoothed out the skirt of her yukata and knelt carefully, regarding her friend in the dim light. "You've been awfully quiet lately. Is everything all right?"

Kagome gave a small shrug. "...Yeah."

The taji-ya's eyebrows drew together in a small frown as she tilted her head, regarding the girl's shadowed profile. "You're sure?"

"It's been a pretty crazy couple of weeks."

Sango nodded, turning her gaze away from Kagome's face, letting her eyes take in the stars that dotted the night sky. "That's putting it lightly," she murmured. She was quiet for a moment, contemplating how very... strange things had been ever since Inuyasha had first discovered Sesshoumaru's mate in the forest. "Everyone has seemed a little preoccupied, actually." Her lips quirked in a wry smile. "Even the houshi."

Kagome smiled, shaking her head affectionately. "Oh, come on. Even Miroku-sama has his serious side." Kagome paused thoughtfully, running her fingers through the grass. "Somewhere. If he were really as frivolous as he seems, he wouldn't... be fighting so hard."

Pursing her lips in thought, Sango nodded. "I know. It's just... ever since we left the den, he's seemed... pensive." It was certainly true; Miroku had been oddly quiet. Of course, there were occasional moments when either Shippou or Inuyasha's antics roused him, but Sango was quite sure of it -- he was far more contemplative than usual.

A small smile curling at her lips, Kagome slid her eyes to Sango's face. "You could ask him," she suggested hesitantly.

Brown eyes widened immediately. "What?" She blinked, shaking her head as a blush warmed her cheeks. "Oh... no. No, I'm sure it's nothing, really... He's probably fine." When Kagome made a soft, noncommittal sound, Sango swallowed, adding, "His mood was probably just dampened by being made to spend so much time around a woman who's already bearing someone else's child." She grinned, punctuating the joke she didn't quite mean.

Chuckling softly, Kagome leaned back in the grass, her eyes softening as she looked up at the sky once more. "You know, I've been wondering what the baby will look like..."

Nodding, Sango shifted slightly until she was leaning back as well, propping herself up on her elbows. "I found myself wondering the same thing." A smile touched her lips and she chuckled. "Actually, given how active he is right now, I wonder if he'll ever sit still long enough for anyone to get a good look at him." The pup certainly was active. Sango had a feeling he was going to keep both his mother and father rather busy after he was born. Her eyebrows twitched. There it was again, the nagging thought tugging at the back of her mind, demanding she pay attention to it. She stared up at the sky for several long seconds, thinking. No, whatever had teased at the back of her mind had retreated to a place she couldn't reach. After a moment, the taji-ya exhaled softly. "It is certainly... strange, isn't it?"

Kagome lolled her head to the side, making out Sango's profile in the semi-darkness. "What is?"

The taji-ya's lips curled into a faintly amused grin. "Sesshoumaru. The great and all-powerful youkai lord of the western lands... a father. I realize that the same was probably said about their father, but still... seeing it..." she trailed off, shaking her head.

A faint blush crawled up Kagome's neck, flaring across her cheeks. Glad for the darkness, she said, "It... does make me wonder."

"Wonder about what?"

She was quiet for a moment. "What Inuyasha's mother was like. What their father was like."

Sango nodded once. "Ah." A small smile touched her lips. "Yes, I can see where you might wonder that."

Grinning sheepishly, Kagome replied, "Guess I've got a one-track mind."

The colloquialism caused Sango's eyebrows to contract. "...one... track?"

"Oh." Kagome frowned, trying to figure out the best way to explain the figure of speech. "Um... it means I tend to think about the same thing over and over again." She paused, gnawing her bottom lip. "Which... I do," she said, smiling sheepishly.

"Ahh," Sango said, comprehending. A grin twitched at her mouth. "Yes, you do." She chuckled softly as Kagome groaned in response, sprawling back onto the grass. Sango looked down at her friend for a moment, her brows twitching in thought. Okay, maybe the Houshi isn't the only one who's been pensive lately. After a few more moments of silence, Sango took a breath. "Kagome-chan... do you think Inuyasha was right? About Teles and the pup being safe?" Sango's concerns hadn't left her when they departed the den. She wanted to believe that Inuyasha was right, but it was difficult to believe that Sesshoumaru would be so willing to accept being mated to a human. Not after all she'd seen and heard about him.

"From Sesshoumaru, you mean?" When Sango nodded, Kagome's brow creased in a frown. Yes, Sesshoumaru was cold and calculating, but would he go so far as to try and convince Inuyasha that everything was fine when he was all the while planning to kill his mate and unborn pup? No, that wasn't Sesshoumaru's style at all. If he'd returned from Greece intent on killing Teles and the pup, he would have made the attempt without pretense. But still... "Well... I didn't really get to see them together."

"No, we left too soon." Sango paused thoughtfully. "I had actually hoped to stay... to see, but Inuyasha was so insistent..."

Kagome lifted her head and looked at Sango in the half-light. "Did that seem strange to you, too? I guess expecting him to hang around Sesshoumaru's den while Sesshoumaru's actually there might be a bit much." She shook her head slowly, considering Inuyasha's behavior; she could find no other explanation for it.

***

Not far away at the campsite, Inuyasha and Miroku sat silently, both of them staring into the dancing flames of the fire, both with their own thoughts. Shippou was dozing against a kitten Kirara, who was delicately lapping at a paw, cleaning herself.

Inuyasha's frown was characteristic; his brows were lowered and his mouth was set in a line. He knew that while the rest of the group was only too aware of the fact that they needed to return to the mission, none of them were particularly thrilled with Inuyasha's decision to leave the den immediately. Well, aside from Shippou, who was only too happy to have Kagome back. But, for the most part, everyone had wanted to stay for at least one more day. Staying at the den wasn't a problem.

The fact that it wouldn't have been a problem made it a problem for Inuyasha.

It was so strange returning to a place he never expected to remember. As he wandered the halls of the den, he found himself teased with bits and snatches of memory that he'd long forgotten. He closed his eyes now, feeling the memory tug at him again, begging him to let it surface, pleading with him to look. He remembered running the length of the halls, as fast as his young legs could carry him...

"Aiieee!!" he yelled, running as the walls passed in a blur. He loved running from one end to the other, faster and faster. He could hear the steps behind him, rapid footfalls that were gaining on him. He ran faster, laughing. He could hear his mother laughing, telling someone to "stop exciting him so."

Then there were hands, grabbing him. Huge, warm hands grabbing him and lifting him up so that his feet dangled beneath him. He kept going up, up... until those hands gently turned him around and...

And there the memory stopped. Inuyasha felt a small growl of annoyance form in his throat. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how completely focused he was, he could not see his father's face in the memory. He had a vague impression of looking into eyes identical to his own, but nothing more. There were other memories, of course, but those were impressions so fleeting that he wasn't entirely sure whether they were real or imagined.

The thing that was bothering him so much was that he was starting to like it at the den. In fact, he'd come to like it just a little too much. It was comforting in a way he'd never expected it to be. And even now, as he thought about it, Inuyasha found himself looking forward to the impending visit. He never would have admitted such a thing to the others, but the truth sat there, locked in his chest. Once the pup was born, Inuyasha had a feeling it was going to be even harder to stay away. He wanted the pup to know him, to recognize him. That wouldn't happen if he wasn't around, which meant, in part at least, that Inuyasha was tacitly agreeing to spend more time around his half-brother. And, really, spending time around the youkai lord wasn't entirely that bad -- much to Inuyasha's surprise. Things were significantly less strained between the brothers. In fact, they slowly seemed to be getting... well, if not good, then almost bearable.

And, actually, on the surface, none of this seemed like a bad thing. He was going to be an uncle; he was going to have family again. No, it wasn't really a bad thing at all.

The bad thing was that, for the week they'd spent at the den, there had been several times when Inuyasha had caught himself not thinking about the Shikon-no-Tama, Naraku, or the mission they had all devoted themselves to. It hadn't been many times during their stay, but it had happened often enough to bother the hanyou. The den had grown to be a comfortable place to him, it allowed him to relax -- it was his childhood home, so it should have been that way.

Inuyasha just didn't want to get too comfortable.

Across the fire, Miroku stared meditatively at the flames, his mind similarly occupied. Ever since he'd felt the life of Inuyasha's niece or nephew twitch and shift under his hands, he found himself giving a great deal of thought to his own struggles for an heir. Certainly, he'd been called to bless pregnant women, and he'd also been called when a birth ended in the worst possible manner, leaving him the unenviable task of providing comfort and solace to a grieving widower. But those times had always been rife with activity -- he was there to do a job, to fulfill his calling.

He'd never simply sat with a pregnant mother before. And he'd certainly never been asked to feel a child move before.

He now found himself preoccupied with the idea of a child -- one created out of, he assumed, love, to be cared for and loved in return. A child -- one who was not conceived out of the desperation born of a demon's curse, who would not be forced to bear a curse himself, one who would not be forced to succeed where his predecessors had failed.

It was an unreasonable responsibility placed on one who had no concept of evil to begin with. It was an impossible thing to demand of an infant. An unborn child in the womb had neither the opportunity nor the desire to harm another. It was not just that such a child should be made to bear a curse for something he hadn't done.

Which was why, in the days since their departure, Miroku found that he'd made a decision. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd made the decision -- only that it was done, and he had no intention of recanting it. He had decided that, should he and the others fail in defeating Naraku and erasing the Kazaana from his family line, then that family line would die with him. He would not place such a burden on a child. He could not do such a thing to an innocent. He refused; not only to do such a thing to a child, but also to do such a thing to his child. He felt a faint stab of resentment towards his own father, who had obviously never had such reservations. How could a servant of Buddha willingly send his own son to his death?

Ah, come now, you're certainly not dead, he told himself. Not yet, anyway. The traitorous thought slipped into his mind every once in a while. No, he wasn't dead yet, but had a constant, painful reminder that it was only a matter of time. Miroku swallowed against the bitterness that had collected in his mouth. His father had only been doing what he had to do in order to keep the family line from disintegrating into nothingness. But duty and obligation provided no comfort.

He sighed silently, watching the various shades of orange, red, and yellow dance in the fire. He hadn't told a soul -- and didn't plan to -- how very much sitting with Sesshoumaru's mate had made him grow so resentful of his own father. It had served to remind him of at least a dozen painful things that he'd tried so hard to push out of his mind over the course of his life, things he'd never let himself contemplate. It made him think about his mother. She had been, most likely, one of the village beauties he himself had so often propositioned. That much Miroku could deduce. The rest he could only speculate on.

Had she sat, eagerly awaiting his arrival? Had she caressed her own belly, crooning softly to him? Had she proudly placed others' hands on that swollen abdomen, encouraging them to feel her son kick?

Or, had she waited out the pregnancy, hating his father for what he'd done to her? Had she hated the unborn child in her own womb? Had she been an unmarried mother, bringing shame onto her family? Had she been cast out of her village?

Miroku couldn't even begin to guess. His father had taken him away soon after he'd been born. He had absolutely no memory whatsoever of his mother, and only the faintest impressions of his father before his Kazaana had consumed him. Miroku remembered that his father had also tried desperately to maintain a sense of humor in spite of Naraku's curse. Whether Miroku's own sense of humor was inherited or acquired through circumstance, he wasn't sure. He hadn't known his father long enough to know what traits of his he'd inherited.

Well, beyond that one, anyway.

However, while Miroku had no idea what other traits he'd inherited from his father, he knew that his mother had left him one gift to remember her by.

You have your mother's eyes, my son.

No, he would not do such a thing to his own child. He would not rob his child of its mother's love. He would not rob his own child of its childhood.

He hadn't asked a single woman to bear his child since. Had the others noticed? He couldn't be sure. Inuyasha seemed occupied with his own thoughts, as did Kagome and Sango. Of course, for appearances' sake, he'd flirted lightly with the first few women they'd come across once they'd resumed their travels, but the advances felt too false and left him feeling... fake. Eventually, Miroku found that he could claim to explore the village in search of prospective mothers for his heir while in actuality searching out a quiet place to meditate. No one had been able to tell the difference.

Miroku wasn't naive. He knew he wasn't necessarily Kami-sama's best servant, but maybe he could at least turn his efforts to being a better one.

***

The demon exterminator allowed herself a soft chuckle before exhaling a hot breath from deep in her chest, smiling when her eyes made out the faint steam. She quite liked the change of seasons. She closed her eyes for a moment, calculating silently. Youkai pregnancies were significantly shorter than human ones. She couldn't be entirely sure, but it was Sango's estimation that the pup would be born on the cusp of winter, if not during the winter months. That knowledge would have bothered her, had a human child been involved. But hanyou were far heartier than humans in so many other ways, it only made sense that they'd be heartier infants as well. "You know, it almost surprises me that Inuyasha agreed to return for a visit at all."

Kagome nodded. She'd been prepared for some form of token resistance, particularly the way Inuyasha had been so determined to leave the den. "I was totally prepared to make big eyes at him and ask nicely, too," she replied, grinning.

Sango's eyebrows lifted and she smiled in return. "It might be a different story once the pup is born." She thought for a moment about the unborn hanyou pup and her smile widened a bit. It was such a simple thing on the surface -- to have a child. But it was something Sango had given thought to more than once. Someday -- someday after the Shikon-no-Tama, after Naraku, after Kohaku, after... everything. Someday, after all of that, she wanted to start building a family for herself. Yes, staying in the company of Inuyasha, Kagome, Shippou... and, yes, even Houshi-sama... it was like a family. She loved Kagome like a sister, but no matter how close she grew to them, no matter how much she cared about them, it wasn't the same thing.

"Oh, Sango," Kagome whispered, rolling on to her side to regard the young woman. "He's going to be an uncle. He's going to have a family." The hurt and anger that seemed to cloud Inuyasha's eyes at the mere mention of his family would finally have a chance to evaporate. He's been alone for so long...

The smile that touched the taji-ya's lips was faintly sad. "You're right. He is," she replied softly. "And he will."

Too late, Kagome felt horrified embarrassment rush into her chest. She reached out to her friend, trying to overcome the verbal slip. "Oh, Sango, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

But Sango shook her head, smiling reassuringly. "Kagome-chan, I would never begrudge anyone a family." Life is too short to hold resentment over another's happiness.

"I know, but I always feel like such an idiot when I say stuff like that," Kagome said softly. She grabbed Sango's hand, squeezing it. "Anyway, I'm sorry."

Sango returned the squeeze, lying down on her side, facing Kagome. "In all honesty, Kagome-chan, if I were given the opportunity for family, I would grasp it with both hands."

Kagome pursed her lips. And if the hand reaching back was wearing a glove? But she bit her tongue, determined to keep her own opinions out of it. Kagome had seen plenty to convince her, but she didn't feel right about pushing the issue too hard. Decisively turning her mind away from its current train of thought regarding the monk and the taji-ya, Kagome took a deep breath and sighed, flopping on to her back once again and staring up at the sky. "It's so weird... in my time, I'm not even old enough to start thinking about getting married, never mind having kids."

Sango nodded slowly. "In your time, when is an acceptable age to start having children?"

Frowning thoughtfully, Kagome chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Ooh. Well... you're sort of supposed to wait at least until after you've finished school... and then maybe after you've had even more school. And you're really supposed to wait until you get married, although a lot of people sort of skip that part..." She caught Sango's faintly horrified expression and cringed inwardly. No, that wouldn't go over well here, would it? She cleared her throat. "So... twenty-something?"

People have children out of wedlock? Recovering from her surprise, Sango nodded. "Ah." She found she could add no more to that; Kagome's time certainly was a strange place, it sometimes seemed. Sango supposed, by Kagome's standards, that she wasn't terribly old, but could not quite see herself waiting until she was almost thirty to begin a family.

A dry laugh nearly escaped her at the notion. That's assuming I live that long. Shaking her head suddenly, she pushed the thought from her mind. They would win, they would prevail -- they had to.

Kagome's words drew Sango from her reverie. "I used to think about it a lot when I was really little," she said, a bit ruefully. "What I'd name them, what they'd look like..."

Sango was quiet for a moment, a fond smile curling her lips. "I still do, sometimes." Yes, her youth had been filled with training that was physically as well as mentally exhausting. She'd never been one of the softer girls in the village, never one obsessed with face paint, arranging her hair just-so, swathing herself in silken robes; the notion of marrying well had never held a great deal of importance for Sango. In fact, the only time her father had ever mentioned her marrying, it had been in an announcement to the young men of the village; whoever could beat his daughter in battle would win her hand in marriage.

Obviously, that hadn't worked out the way her father had planned it.

But that didn't mean that Sango never gave any thought to a family. Indeed, when she wasn't training or sent out on assignments, she spent a great deal of time with the younger children of the village. She found the exuberance and energy present in children to be refreshing -- even if they had a talent for trying one's patience at times.

Kagome smiled at the faintly wistful tone in Sango's voice. "How many do you want?"

"I think... three. Perhaps more." That was the nice thing about talking with Kagome like this; Sango could indulge in daydreaming.

"I thought... two, maybe. I like being a big sister. Maybe more." A faint shadow passed over her eyes -- too faint for the demon exterminator to see in the darkness. "Oh well."

The taji-ya lay back as well, lacing her fingers behind her head. "... In my village, I used to help with the smaller children sometimes."

"Really?"

Nodding, Sango added, "I even have a little bit of experience with births. Our midwife often asked for my assistance." She chuckled a bit. "I was one of the few who were not put off by the sight of blood, and I was also able to hold a mother down if necessary."

"Wow," Kagome said, duly impressed. "I got to cut Souta's umbilical cord, and I thought that was being very brave."

Sango laughed softly before trailing into a thoughtful silence. "I hope Sesshoumaru realizes that Teles will need a midwife."

"Oh no," Kagome groaned, closing her eyes. "I hadn't even thought about that." She considered for a minute about any and everything she knew about childbirth, which, admittedly, wasn't much. Then she started thinking -- really thinking -- about how much a former deity and a youkai who never had time for humans before could possibly know about childbirth, and the doomed feeling in the pit of her stomach grew.

"For that matter," Sango continued, "I wonder how greatly a goddess' birth might differ from that of a human..."

Cringing, Kagome mentally rifled through all of the different versions of Greek myths she'd ever heard. Aphrodite born from Uranus' blood, Athena springing fully grown from Zeus' head, Hera giving birth to Hephaestus without having been fertilized first... She winced inwardly. "Um... well... from what I know about Teles's people? A lot." She gnawed lightly on her bottom lip. "And how much can Sesshoumaru know if he never even liked humans before -- or hanyou for that matter?" She clapped a hand to her forehead. This had potential to be very, very bad. Never mind the delivery -- that was going to be bad enough -- but how on earth were either of them going to know how to care for a baby?

Sango's eyebrows lifted as Kagome's words sunk in. "Oh." She was quiet for a moment. "Uh oh."

"Big uh oh," Kagome agreed.

Clearing her throat discreetly, Sango murmured, "I think... they might be in store for a ... bit of a surprise." Well, that's a grand understatement.

Kagome gave a hysterical little giggle. "When I took sex education in health, I didn't think I was going to use it to explain the facts of life to a youkai lord and a former goddess."

"Well, they obviously knew what it took to make a pup in the first place," the demon exterminator replied dryly. "So they're not completely ignorant." Sex education? Gods, is there anything she doesn't learn in her time?

"True..." The young miko's lips pursed in thought before scrunching to the side. "Oh, wow, this could get so messed up." For the first time, she really allowed herself to think about all of the things they didn't have available to them in this time. Kagome winced; childbirth reliant on folk medicine was something she never thought she'd have to witness. It was something she never really wanted to witness. "And you guys don't have doctors or epidurals or anything..."

Two dark brows quirked together in confusion. "Epi... what?"

Kagome's mind scrambled; she'd forgotten where -- and when -- she was for a second. "Oh, um... painkillers they give pregnant women. So the contractions don't hurt so much."

Sango blinked, impressed. "Really?"

Kagome nodded, adding without thinking, "Boy, if I got pregnant, I'd go home to have the baby."

Sango's head turned sharply to the side. "Oh, would you?" she asked, amused.

"Well, yeah," she answered. I mean, why wouldn't I? There are doctors there, and hospitals, and... oh. Oh. OH. A small light dawned and Kagome put her hands over her face. Her face felt like it was on fire.

"So, you're... planning this?" the taji-ya asked teasingly.

"NO," was the muffled reply that came from behind Kagome's hands. When she heard Sango's soft laughter, her brain scurried for an explanation. "I... I mean... Oh... Argh!"

Grinning, Sango reached over, pulling Kagome's hands away from her face. "I'm only teasing you, Kagome-chan."

"I know.... I just feel like an idiot... I know that she's out there somewhere... and she's waiting for him... and I know that. But then..." Clenching her eyes tightly shut, she thumped her head against the ground softly.

Smiling gently at the girl, Sango nodded. "I know, Kagome-chan. I know," she said softly before giving a tiny sigh. "I think all of us are a little... preoccupied with the idea of a new baby, whether related to it or not."

"I guess so," Kagome said ruefully. "Although I think if anybody suggested to Inuyasha that he might be a father someday... well, I don't know what he'd do." Indeed, Inuyasha never seemed like he was that much older than Kagome. And Kagome knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wasn't ready to have children just yet.

Sango closed her eyes, allowing her imagination to roam for a moment, picturing such a scenario. From her experience, Inuyasha was not one who took unexpected news particularly well. She giggled suddenly.

"What?" Kagome asked, lifting her head up to look at the other girl.

But Sango's giggles had evolved quickly into a full blown laugh. She couldn't get it out of her mind -- Inuyasha's response at being informed that he would be a father. Her laughter grew, and Sango found herself wrapping her arms around herself, holding her ribs. "I think..." she managed between bouts of laughter, "...he'd probably... sit himself!"

In that moment, all of Kagome's worries about the unborn hanyou pup, her concerns about the birth, about hospitals, doctors, epidurals, and explaining the birthing process to a former deity vanished. The laughter bubbled forward, and soon the two girls were rolling in the grass, tears streaming from their eyes as they clutched their arms to their stomachs.

***

The sound of high-pitched female laughter floated through the woods, dragging both Inuyasha and Miroku out of their respective reveries.

The hanyou's brows lowered as his ears swiveled to pick up the sound. "...the fuck're they laughin' at?" He narrowed his eyes, glaring in the direction of the laughter.

Miroku looked up, cocking his head slightly, straining his own ears. It was Sango and Kagome, of that he was sure. "I don't know," he admitted. A small, rueful smile pulled at his lips. At least some of them could laugh.

***

Meanwhile, Sango and Kagome were nursing their hearty laughter back to more manageable giggles. Sango sat up, wiping at her eyes. "His expression... would be... priceless," she said, between giggles.

Kagome rolled onto her side, her arms still wrapped around her stomach. "Ohhh... oww..."

There was a brief period of silence during which the two girls tried to compose themselves. Kagome lay on the ground quietly while Sango cleared her throat, calming herself.

When Kagome spoke, her voice was very small, and it was painfully obvious that she was trying desperately to get the words out without dissolving into laughter...again. "Can you... imagine him... changing diapers?"

Sango fell back against the earth, the laughter starting anew. "Or... trying to feed it? Keh," she said, doing a passable impression of the hanyou. "Can't that thing feed itself?" Sango laughed harder as Kagome rolled in the grass, practically crying.

***

Tucking his tongue firmly into his cheek, Miroku arched one eyebrow. "Apparently they're having a good time."

"They gotta go be by themselves to have a good time?" Inuyasha retorted, still glaring at the noise.

The monk held up one hand in a placating gesture. "No, of course not. But the good times women have with each other," there's a thought, "are often times different from the good times they have with male friends."

"They ain't never laughed that hard around us," he replied, his glare growing suspicious. What in all the gods' names were they laughing at? He could make out a few words here and there, but nothing that gave him any insight into what was causing the girls such mirth.

Miroku had to concede to this. "Well, no..." He regarded his friend calmly, but with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "You know, Inuyasha, you're showing commendable patience in not rushing over there."

Pulled away from the laughter, Inuyasha's attention turned to the monk. "Eh?" He shrugged carelessly. "I don't really fuckin' care, anyway."

"Of course not," Miroku replied serenely.

"They wanna laugh, let 'em fuckin' laugh."

"Right."

There was a very long period during which neither of them spoke. Miroku smiled to himself. Five... four... three... two...

"That's fuckin' it," the hanyou growled, standing suddenly. I ain't lettin' 'em get away with laughing at ME... He glowered at the monk, who hadn't so much as flinched at the sudden movement. In fact, he seemed to have been expecting it. "Well, you comin' or not?"

"I'm quite used to being an object of ridicule," he returned dryly.

Inuyasha folded his arms. "So you do think they're laughin' at us."

Miroku only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "It would seem likely."

This seemed to be more than enough for Inuyasha, who immediately grabbed Miroku's robes and began dragging him towards the giggling.

Rolling his eyes, Miroku tugged himself loose from Inuyasha's grip. "I can walk, thank you."

"Well you weren't," came the hissed whisper.

***

"The baby's first word... 'Sit!'" Kagome managed, the laughter making it more and more difficult to talk. She heard Sango laugh even harder as she thumped her feet helplessly into the ground. Kagome took a deep, steadying breath. Her eyes were damp with tears and her stomach was positively aching, but the giggles were finally starting to subside. "Ow. Stomach hurts."

"Yes," Sango agreed, placing a hand on her ribs. "Oh, gods... I haven't laughed that hard in... I'm not sure how long."

There was a brief period of contemplative silence that came while the two young women willed their breathing to return to normal. The giddiness that came with the giggling diminished slightly.

"There is one thing I've always wondered," Kagome murmured, feeling the ache around her stomach and ribs begin to dissipate.

"What's that?" Sango asked, wiping at the last of the moisture from one of her eyes.

"Would... a quarter-youkai... have human ears?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Sango was quiet as she thought about this. "You know... I don't know. There are so few hanyou, after all..."

"Are there?" Kagome thought about this for a moment. "You know... I never thought about it. But now that you say it, I've only met... one or two, other than Inuyasha." It never occurred to her until now that there were indeed very few hanyou in the world. Of course, just because she couldn't see them didn't mean they didn't exist, but surely, if there were more of them, they would have met more of them.

Sango nodded. "Youkai don't frequently mate with humans. That's not to say it never happens -- obviously -- but it's not common." She chewed her lip in thought. "You know, some of the elders in my village actually studied that." The taji-ya lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. "It really didn't concern me at the time -- I was more interested in practice and training and doing my job than being made to rummage through a bunch of scrolls. And, besides, hanyou were never a problem in villages. We were never called to exterminate them. So, why study something that had no bearing on me?" She gave a self-deprecating smile. "Of course, if I knew then what I know now..."

"What were the studies on specifically?"

Sango shook her head. "I only really know that they conducted the study." She smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid I was never a very good student, Kagome-chan. I was always a little more interested in the practical part of my craft."

Kagome smiled sympathetically -- she could definitely relate. "It might be good to dig that up." Kagome was getting the feeling that the more information they could impart on Teles and Sesshoumaru, the better prepared the pair would be. "Maybe we could stop by your village?"

Sango nodded. "You're probably right -- it would be helpful. If we can find the time, we'll make a stop. Otherwise, I'll go by myself." A small smile tugged at her lips. She actually didn't mind the solitude that the trips to her village brought. And it had been longer than she would have liked since her previous visit.

A twinkle glimmered in Kagome's eyes. "Oh, I'm sure Miroku-sama could spare the time to help you look..."

Sango's response was a deep blush. "I'm sure he's got better things to do than to sift through a bunch of dusty scrolls with me, Kagome-chan."

A mischievous sparkle lighting her eyes and a grin curling her lips, the young miko stood quickly. "Let's ask him," Kagome said firmly, turning to head back to camp.

Sitting up, Sango shot her hand out, grabbing Kagome's ankle. "Kagome-chan!" she squeaked, only a marginally horrified that such a sound came from her.

Kagome collapsed on the ground, giggling again. "I'd never do that to you, Sango-chan," she said, grinning mischievously.

Sango groaned once and fell back to the ground. She hated this -- hated feeling this way, and hated the fact that it was that damned monk who made her feel this way. It was a vulnerability she was not particularly content to have. There were times when she wished she didn't have it, as a matter of fact. It certainly would have simplified matters greatly. Gah -- damned monk!

There was almost a full minute of silence. Kagome tilted her head, noting the sudden change in her friend. "...Sango-chan? Are you all right?"

Sango made a small, half-hearted sound.

"Is that a yes, or a no?"

"You know, Kagome-chan, sometimes I really can't stand him." And sometimes I can stand him. Sometimes I even think I could stand him for a while. And then I want to kill things.

"It's funny," Kagome began softly, "but I talked to Teles about this." She gave a little grin. "Apparently she knows a little bit about this sort of thing." Kagome thought for a moment, trying to recall the conversation she'd had with the former goddess. "She said, you... think you hate them. Because they drive you insane. And then you realize that when he's not making you insane, the world just... isn't as interesting. I've had days at school where all I wanted to do was go home and take a nap... and Inuyasha shows up and snarls at me. And... for reasons I'll never, ever understand, I feel better."

***

After a short walk, Inuyasha and Miroku found themselves at the top of a small hill, looking down the slope at the two girls. The laughter had slowed considerably during the walk, and now it seemed as if the girls had moved on to other topics. The young monk leaned on his staff, admiring the view. His dark robes offered him concealment while the moonlight provided him with enough light to see both girls stretched out, speaking intently to each other. The right side of his mouth quirked into a half-smile at the sight of the taji-ya lying on her side, the curve of her hip made even more tempting by the way the skirt of her yukata pulled across it.

After a few seconds of silence Miroku shrugged. He turned to Inuyasha, lowering his voice, "Whatever they were laughing about before, Inuyasha, they're done now." He narrowed his eyes, trying to pick up what they were talking about. After a few moments, his ears got used to the female tones. The words were soft, but finally he could make out what it was that Kagome was saying. He smiled inwardly; he was glad that Kagome had someone with whom she could speak about Inuyasha.

The hanyou frowned a bit. He lay down on his stomach, staring down at them, training his ears toward them. "Snarl?" he replied in a soft whisper. "Keh. I don't snarl at her."

Sending the hanyou a wry look, Miroku actively decided that silence was a very good virtue to practice.

***

Miroku? Making the world more...interesting? Sango considered Kagome's words for several very long moments. On the surface, of course, it seemed ridiculous. Annoyances were not something you craved. Yes, the houshi drove her utterly insane at times, but that didn't mean that she'd grown to like it, did it? Her brow furrowed as she tried to imagine a world where there was no delinquent monk groping her backside.

She was astonished, and not a little amazed, to find that she thought she'd miss it. Not the groping, necessarily, but... everything else that came with the monk.

"As much as I hate to admit it, it makes sense," she sighed.

"There was this other thing... she said...." Kagome frowned, searching her memory.

"What was it?"

Kagome shook her head, clearly trying to remember. "Something about... not being whole without your... mate."

The demon exterminator gave a short laugh. "That's odd, someone saying something like that about Sesshoumaru."

"That's not the weird part," Kagome replied, grinning. "He said it about her. It was something he told her. At the beginning, I guess."

Dark eyebrows rising, Sango nodded. "You're right. That is much more peculiar."

"And the really weird part..."

"What, it gets even stranger?"

Somewhere above them, and unknown to either, Inuyasha's ears twitched as he leaned forward, listening intently.

"Well," Kagome began hesitatingly, "Sesshoumaru.... was telling Inuyasha. To.... claim his mate." She swallowed. "Apparently he has one. Somewhere. Anyway, Inuyasha... he... mentioned that to me."

Watchful amber eyes widened as the blood drained quickly from the hanyou's face. Oh, fuck.

Sango digested this information for several moments. "And why do you think Inuyasha told you this?"

"Because I'm a fucking dumbass?" he muttered under his breath. If Miroku reacted to this at all, Inuyasha didn't see or hear it. No, he had bigger, more important things on his mind.

Heaving a sigh, Kagome shook her head. "God, I can't even tell you how that's been chasing around in my head. I.... I know what I want to think." She crossed one leg over the other and began shaking her foot, preoccupied with nervous energy. "I couldn't ask. He was sitting there... looking at me.... and I couldn't ask." She swallowed hard, feeling the old, familiar anxiety well up in her chest. "Gods, Sango, if he'd said Kikyou, I would've...." Kagome closed her eyes. "Well, I don't know what I would've done. We were up in a tree, so I couldn't have exactly walked away."

Inuyasha listened to all of this, a sick sensation pooling in his gut. He swore under his breath, but that did nothing to alleviate his nausea. She thought he'd been talking about Kikyou? He shook his head, trying to clear it. Yes, he swore he would avenge her death, and, yes, he had loved Kikyou. But now... now she... as much as it tore at him, the woman he had once loved was nothing more than soil and bones, resurrected by magic and driven by hate. She wore Kikyou's face, had her mannerisms, her memories, her voice, but... "Damn it," he hissed, sotto voce. She was supposed to know. She was supposed to understand. She understands every other damn thing.

Frowning, Miroku looked down at Inuyasha. "What?" he asked softly. Unsurprisingly, his friend only shook his head by way of answer. As far as answers went, it wasn't much. But, then, Miroku didn't always need much. He might not have been able to hear the conversation quite as clearly as Inuyasha could, but he could certainly hear enough.

"I'm sorry, Kagome-chan," Sango whispered. "I wish I could help."

Kagome sighed. "There's really nothing you can do. There's nothing I can do. He has to... carry it through, I guess. I knew a long time ago what his decision was. If I can't live with it.... That's my burden. Not his."

Sango's heart tore at the sad resignation in her friend's voice. "Men," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "Even when they're making life interesting, you want to strangle them."

Kagome laughed softly. "Or... give them a concussion?"

Miroku blinked. He blinked again when he realized that it was taking Sango an inordinately long time to reply.

The taji-ya cleared her throat softly, pulling away from the hug. "Ehhh..."

"I'm not blind, Sango-chan" Kagome said gently.

Sango's cringe was immediate and her shoulders slouched a bit. She lay back on her side, her fingers roaming blindly through the grass, pulling at the blades. "Is it... obvious?"

Kagome shrugged and sat cross-legged. "To me, anyway. But..."

"But you're a bit more... observant," Sango finished for her. "Right?" When Kagome nodded, the taji-ya added softly, "And you're not distracted by every pretty face we come across."

The young monk watching from the top of the hill flinched as if he'd been slapped.

"He's not..." Kagome lifted her hands and dropped them again. "I know he's a good person, Sango-chan."

Sango nodded slowly. "He is a good man, Kagome-chan," she said slowly, her voice sad. "I believe that too. I just..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "It's silly."

"Hey, I told you the big thing that's been rattling around in my head." She paused for a moment. "Actually, I told you a few of the big things rattling around in my head. You can tell me, if it'll help. And, besides," she added, suddenly mischievous in an attempt to lighten their combined mood, "I might be able to think of something I could do to help."

For his part, Miroku found himself trying very hard not to consider what Lady Kagome might think constituted help. He then tried very hard not to think of what suggestions he could offer. A better servant to Kami-sama. A better one.

Sango slapped Kagome's arm lightly. "You'll do nothing of the sort." She smiled when the young woman giggled, but that smile faded as she tried to put into words what she'd been thinking for so long. "It's just... I know he... he asks all of those women... that because he has to -- the continuation of his line depends on it. But sometimes... sometimes, when he and I are alone, it feels as if he's someone else -- someone who's not a lecherous pervert. Someone... good. And then he reaches down and grabs me, and the illusion is shattered. And I wonder which part is the illusion -- the man I saw for those few seconds, or the lech groping my backside?"

The thoughtful silence that followed was nearly too much for Miroku to bear. He was absolutely, completely still as his mind turned over Sango's words. Swallowing hard, he muffled his staff with his hand and turned to go back to camp. He'd heard enough.

"I... think..." Kagome began, unsure of where to take the thought. She thought that Miroku, underneath it all, was a good person -- even if he had a few... questionable habits.

Inuyasha heard the muted jangle as Miroku held the rings on his shakujou still. Immediately, his hand shot out and grabbed Miroku by the ankle. Oh, no you don't. I ain't gettin' caught alone up here. "If I had to hear it, you hafta hear it," he muttered under his breath.

Miroku looked down at the hanyou, eyes narrowed. Inuyasha's grip was firm. Holding the shakujou's rings securely, he lifted the staff and brought the end of it down, poking at Inuyasha's wrist in an effort to release his ankle.

Below them, Sango sighed, noting her friend's silence. "Kagome, he's kind, he's loyal, he's gentle... You should have seen him with Rin," the taji-ya said, smiling gently at the memory.

Inuyasha tightened his jaw when the end of the staff came down on his wrist, but he didn't relinquish his hold. Instead, he gritted his teeth and held on tighter, digging his claws into the skin.

"But it doesn't surprise me that he could be that way," Kagome replied, propping her chin on her hands.

Miroku clamped his jaw shut against a yelp. Damn it, does he not know how to take a hint? He tugged his foot away a few more times for good measure, but no amount of pulling or poking would convince the hanyou to relinquish his ankle.

"When I saw him with her, Kagome, I feel like I got a look at the man he could be."

That caught the young monk's attention. He froze, standing utterly and completely still, Sango's softly spoken words reverberating through his head. The man he could be? Had she said that? Had he heard her correctly? Of course he had -- he might not have had hanyou hearing, but he wasn't deaf. Blinking, the monk faced the girls once more. He found himself listening, rapt.

"So... why don't you think that the kind one is the real one?" Kagome asked, swinging her legs.

The young taji-ya gave a small, sad smile. "I never said that I thought the kind one wasn't the real one, Kagome-chan. It's just the opposite."

"Okay," Kagome began slowly. "So, where's the problem?"

Miroku's dry, silent huff of laughter came with a shake of his head. Oh, where to begin?

"I don't think it's one big problem, Kagome-chan. Just many smaller ones."

"Many female, smaller ones?"

Looking down, Sango lifted her shoulders in a graceful shrug. "Well, I wasn't going to put it that way, but..." Here, Sango trailed off, gathering her thoughts.

He couldn't listen anymore. Frowning again, Miroku turn his attention to Inuyasha, still resolutely holding on to his ankle. He brought the end of the shakujou down hard in the middle of Inuyasha's back. Let go, damn it...

"Kagome, do you remember when I went to find him after suturing Teles' wound?" When Kagome nodded, she continued. "He was outside with Rin, like you told me. She was asleep in his lap. And... and for a moment... I couldn't help but wonder..."

The shakujou froze in mid-jab.

"...if he'd hold his own daughter like that." Sango finished. After a moment, she sighed, the huff of breath tinged with annoyance. "I wasn't going to think about this anymore."

Inuyasha's eyes widened, his hold on Miroku's ankle going completely slack. Miroku, for his part, hadn't noticed. He simply stood, rooted to the spot, feeling an odd ache in his chest at Sango's words, spoken in that softly hesitant way she had at times. She'd thought such a thing? About him?

There was a gentle laugh. "Do you know how many times I've told myself that?" Kagome asked.

"I can imagine," Sango chuckled dryly. After another brief silence, Sango shook her head. "So, I suppose Teles was right. The one who drives you crazy may not be driving you crazy at all -- he's just making the world a little less dull."

"I wonder how Miroku-sama sees it," Kagome said dryly.

"Naked, probably," Sango replied in an equally dry tone. The two girls laughed again, but this time the laughter was softer, more tinged with thoughtfulness, in spite of the wry words they spoke. The taji-ya inhaled deeply. "You know, if he ever decides to shed his illusion, I'm not sure whether I'll be relieved, or whether I might die from the shock."

"You know, Sango, I think you might actually like it."

There was another long pause during which Miroku found himself holding his breath.

Sango nodded once, a soft smile pulling at her lips. "I think I probably would, too."

A/N: Whoo hoo!! A hundred reviews! Yaaaaay!! *does happy 100 Reviews dance* Thanks so much guys for sticking with OG&M for this long. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.

Regarding the use of "Kami-sama" in this chapter. I realize that this would be in line with a more Shinto way of thinking (and it's widely agreed that Miroku is Buddhist); however, after I did a little bit of research on Buddhism in Japan, I found that one of the reasons why Buddhism became so hugely accepted was its ability to mesh with and assimilate the religions already established at the time. So, I decided (with a little help and input) that the use of "Kami-sama" would be justifiable in this case.