InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Of Gods and Monsters ❯ Chapter 52: No Place Like Home ( Chapter 54 )

Chapter 52: "No Place Like Home"

 

A/N: Doing somewhat better on the updates. At least this one didn't take six months to write (only four months...)! Anyway, great thanks (as always) to Ithilwen and Kat Morning for their lovely beta work. Hugs and thanks to Nanda for all of her work and suggestions up till this point. And, of course, hugs and tea to Evvie. :)

 

 

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in the fields of gold

 

~ Sting, "Fields of Gold"

 

 

He knew not how long he'd slept, only that his body had needed the rest. He knew, also, that he felt stronger each time soft hands nudged him awake to coax food and drink into him. He was not injured, only exhausted, and he knew that he would come back to himself in no time at all.

 

It still galled Sesshoumaru that he required any assistance whatsoever. And there were moments when he declined -- or tried to decline -- his mate's offers of help. These attempts were met with no success, and a hearty dose of stubbornness, and a tiny part of the youkai wished to refuse her help if only to elicit such a response from her.

 

When consciousness prodded him, he roused, blinking slowly as he took in his surroundings. At some point during his rest, Teles had cleared away the sprawling kimono, though whether she'd done it alone, or had enlisted help, he wasn't sure. By and large, their chamber looked very much like the way it should have.

 

Warm fingers brushed across his forehead. "Ah, you're awake at last," Teles murmured when he rolled over to look up at her. She was behind him, lying on her side, arms wrapped awkwardly around his body, her stomach snug against his spine until he shifted onto his back.

 

"At last?" he echoed, looking vaguely perplexed.

 

"I returned midday yesterday. Today, it..." she frowned slightly, "it is, I believe, almost that time -- though perhaps not quite yet. I have not seen the sky since earlier this morning, I'm afraid."

 

"Ah," he returned, still bemused that he'd slept quite so long.

 

Teles' lips twitched with mirth as she continued to let her fingertips trace the crescent at his forehead. "Well, this is something I wouldn't have expected, though perhaps I should have."

 

"I beg your pardon?" Sesshoumaru asked, resisting the urge to close his eyes and lean into the touch -- and failing.

 

"Your conversational skills are just as bad when you're awake as when you're asleep."

 

He stilled and opened his eyes, regarding her evenly. She was still dressed in the strange garb from the previous day, and despite the fact that she appeared somewhat tired, her eyes glowed with warmth as she gazed down at him. Her comments were likewise reassuring, but his dreams -- both awake and asleep -- had been filled with his mate's teasing remarks, none of them ever quite reaching the reality.

 

This, however, felt very real.

 

"Forgive me," he murmured, arching an eyebrow slightly. "It has been my experience that one need not possess extensive conversational skills when in the presence of one as talkative as yourself."

 

A beat of perfect silence passed, then another, Sesshoumaru watching Teles' expression narrowly -- he noticed that she too seemed to be watching him carefully. It didn't change, not even when she spoke, giving a regal toss of her head. "Well," came the unruffled reply, "if you weren't so awful at it, then I wouldn't have to make up for your shortcomings."

 

Again, silence reigned. As Sesshoumaru regarded his mate, faint bemusement flickered in his eyes. His bemusement gradually increased, shifting to suspicion, uncertainty, and, finally, hope. He shifted on the futon suddenly, sitting up. Though he'd never dared imagine such a thing, warmth -- happiness washed over him at the realization that Teles was there, with him.

 

And she was regarding him with that maddening smirk, so familiar, and so missed. He wanted to kiss it.

 

"You are here." Sesshoumaru's words were an awestruck whisper, his eyes never leaving her face.

 

Teles smiled, and it was laced with sadness. "I am indeed. Since yesterday, in fact." She paused at his disoriented frown. "You've been sleeping that long, beloved."

 

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, his frown deepening, and rubbed at his forehead tiredly. "Yes, that would explain the headache," he muttered. A slow throb had begun at the back of his head, gradually making its way toward the front.

 

"No," the ex-goddess replied tartly, "I believe the fact that you've barely eaten in two weeks would explain the headache."

 

The youkai's hand stilled. It became evident to him that it was fruitless to try and convince himself that his mate's presence was some sort of grandiose hallucination, provided to him by a desperate and overworked imagination. She had returned. There was no arguing it. Sesshoumaru said nothing as he took this information and turned it over in his mind, but his headache was doing an excellent job of impeding his thought process.

 

"Well, youkai?" Teles said, pulling Sesshoumaru's attention away from inward thought. His hand dropped to his lap as he looked at her. "Have you nothing to say for yourself?" she asked, one eyebrow arching. "I did not expect to return home after a mere two weeks and find things like this."

 

"Ah, so you were planning to return," he replied, more sharply than he'd intended. "Forgive me; I neglected to read that part of your note." There was a beat of silence before he continued. "Oh, I beg your pardon. You didn't leave one."

 

Immediately after the words left his mouth, Sesshoumaru regretted them. Why? Why was he doing this? Why was he behaving thus, after being parted from her? Was it a perverse desire to provoke her into anger again, after he had failed so miserably in his previous attempt? Or was it anger with Teles that she would leave him to worry as he had? Sesshoumaru had many times envisioned their reunion, and in none of those scenarios did he picture himself growing angry with her -- and yet, he was. There was no explanation for it. He now had what he'd wanted most, and he was pushing her away. It was not revenge; Sesshoumaru was above such pettiness.

 

And then, a whisper of thought ribboned through his mind: You are afraid.

 

Sesshoumaru was naturally inclined to ignore such a ridiculous concept, but doing so -- much like trying to argue that he was not "half-starved and miserable" -- was futile. He had tasted fear's piquant; it had nearly choked him. He'd worried for his mate's life, and that of their child; he'd feared for their safety in an unknown land.

 

And now that she was there with him, only one thought jabbed at him, over and over again -- that she would remember why she had left, that she would leave him again. After all, Sesshoumaru had erred, and Sesshoumaru did not forgive. Why dare to hope that anyone would deign to forgive him?

 

"No, I did not," she returned, patiently. Sesshoumaru found her patience to be patronizing, and it only pricked his temper further; he ground his teeth. "I did not believe you would have cared to read it."

 

"Foolish woman," he riposted, a snarl lacing his words. "How could you possibly think--"

 

Teles blinked at him. "How? How? Allow me to enlighten you, youkai. You went out of your way to provoke my temper without for a moment giving any consideration to the fact that perhaps -- perhaps such an idiotic move might have consequences!"

 

"What was I to do?" he shot back. "You were behaving--"

 

"Yes! Yes, I know!" she interrupted, her voice rising. "I was behaving 'oddly.' I was 'meek.' I was 'submissive.' And you, foolish demon, believed my soul to have been irrevocably altered by Hera's magic. When a human is injured, Sesshoumaru, that human requires time to heal. At no point did you give me any opportunity to recover from the aftereffects of Hera's spell! She made me human, beloved. Does that not seem the sort of thing one might require time from which to recover? No -- instead you tried to incite my anger by provoking me. Did it not occur to you once that I myself might have thought you were disgusted by this human form? That you did not want to be burdened with a human mate and half-breed child? I left because I believed myself unwelcome and unwanted."

 

"You entertain such thoughts as these, and you dare call me foolish?" he growled. "You obviously know the intent my actions were supposed to have -- you've proven that much already."

 

"Because you TOLD me, idiot!"

 

Sesshoumaru said nothing. There was nothing he could say, so great was his bemusement. Several moments passed in silence as he stared at her, brows contracting slightly. The minute change in expression was enough to convey the depth of the youkai lord's puzzlement.

 

"No, I did not," he said quietly. Though that is not to say that I shouldn't have...

 

Teles let out a deep sigh. This was not how she had expected to tell Sesshoumaru about the time she'd spent on the other side of the well. But, of course, he was a maddening creature. The difference was now she was better prepared to deal with him.

 

"Yes," she repeated quietly, "you did." Again, Sesshoumaru said nothing, and she continued. "The well, near Inuyasha's village--"

 

"It is a portal. Yes, I know."

 

Teles hesitated a moment, letting out a soft breath as she turned to face him better. Reaching out, her hand found his, and she felt him stiffen slightly before he allowed her fingers to twine with his. "You were on the other side of the portal, beloved."

 

The response was no less than what she had anticipated; Sesshoumaru's head jerked up quickly, his startled amber gaze meeting hers. Teles swallowed hard and sent him a tremulous smile. When it became clear that speech would not be forthcoming, she cleared her throat softly and looked down at their hands, still joined. "The well is a portal to a land five hundred years from now. And, as you told me once, while youkai are not immortal, they are long-lived. You..." her throat closed with emotion and she swallowed hard. "You waited. You waited and sought me out to explain things to me."

 

There was another long stretch of silence. "...I see," Sesshoumaru replied quietly, still looking somewhat puzzled, but that bemusement was gradually fading.

 

"...You do?"

 

"Allow me to clarify. I see how I would have been inclined to wait five centuries to speak to you. What I do not see is why you would have been inclined to listen." The bitterness in his words was fleeting, but Teles heard it and shook her head in fond exasperation.

 

"Foolish youkai. I never ceased loving you, but could not bear to live with your disdain. And the longer your behavior carried on, the angrier I became--"

 

"You never showed it," he said, a trifle impatiently.

 

"No, I didn't," she replied quietly, reaching out once again to trace the stripes at his cheek. Her fingers were warm and soft, and Sesshoumaru fought to keep from pressing them to his skin. "Don't you understand, beloved?" Teles murmured before swallowing hard against the emotion tightening her throat. "I believed you to be quite tired of me. So I left; I had to."

 

He gave in to the urge, closing his hand over hers and leaning into her touch. "And I... found you."

 

"You did."

 

Sesshoumaru watched his mate for a moment, digesting this information. As he did, she moved slightly on the futon, and he realized something he had not noticed before: His scent clung to her. It was slightly different, but there was no mistaking it. Closing his eyes, Sesshoumaru turned his body more towards Teles', bowing his head and resting it in the crook of her neck. When he inhaled, the familiar scent caught his nose, and he could not help a soft, wry chuckle.

 

"Is something amusing you, beloved?"

 

"Only the fact that I waited five hundred years to explain to you what an idiot I'd been, and then somehow managed to send you away all over again."

 

"To be fair, we both behaved idiotically," she murmured, bringing a hand up and losing her fingers in his hair. The gesture was so welcome -- so missed -- that a soft, content growl rumbled through his chest.

 

"Did we, now?" he replied quietly.

 

"Oh, yes. I left, and I shouldn't have. I can't say it enough, beloved -- I did not intend to punish you with my absence." She seemed to be on the verge of saying something else, when she started slightly, letting out a soft gasp.

Sesshoumaru lifted his head to regard her, and his hand went immediately to the swell of her stomach. Sure enough, he could feel their child moving beneath his palm. He was relieved to note that the movement seemed not to trouble his mate as much now as it had before. And then it dawned on him -- even after so many years, he would have retained the knowledge imparted to him by the monk and taiji-ya.

 

"He does not trouble me as often as he did before," she said, a faint smile at her lips. After a short pause, her lips twitched. "That is not to say I am patiently awaiting his birth, because I'm not. In fact, I believe both of us are growing quite weary of the current arrangement."

 

In truth, Sesshoumaru was also looking forward to that day, if for different reasons. He doubted there would be a point when he ceased worrying about his mate and their child, but the immediate danger posed by her pregnancy would no longer be an issue.

 

"Have you any idea... when?" he asked, moving his hand across Teles' rounded abdomen in slow, soothing circles.

 

"Soon. I... I don't quite know how I know. But I am quite certain that it will be soon."

 

Sesshoumaru nodded once. Admittedly he knew very little about the birthing practices of humans; that was something that would have to be rectified sooner, rather than later. "Then we will prepare for it."

 

And, though he'd been aware of it for many months now, the reality of the situation descended upon Sesshoumaru: he was going to be a father.

 

Certainly he had, by this point, spent enough time around Rin to know something of children. But as fond as he'd grown of Rin, this was somehow... different. This child would be his, would carry his blood in his veins. The child would be one in a proud line of inuyoukai.

 

Or, rather, inuhanyou. The child would have not only his blood, his heritage, but that of his mate's. Their child would be subject to cruelty and ridicule. He would struggle for acceptance, belonging neither to the human sphere or the youkai world.

 

Just like Inuyasha.

 

And yet, the very idea that someone might treat their child with disgust or disdain left Sesshoumaru rankled. No. This is entirely different. Inuyasha is...

 

...The half-breed son of a powerful inuyoukai.

 

"Sesshoumaru?" Teles' voice interrupted his thoughts. "Are you all right, beloved?"

 

He nodded, blowing out a long breath. "Yes. I was only thinking."

 

Teles shifted toward him, and soon she was no longer cradling him, but he her; his arms went around her body, and she was resting against his chest. When she tucked her head beneath his chin, the scent of her hair drifted around him, and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He'd caught her scent around the den -- a ghost, taunting him of his errors. There, beneath faint, but oddly unnatural perfumes, he could smell Teles. It filled him with an unparalleled sense of ease, and though the lethargy had by now evaporated completely, he had no desire to move.

 

"I confess," he murmured into her hair, "I cannot help but feel somewhat envious of myself."

 

She looked up, her movements lazy, and for a moment she reminded Sesshoumaru vaguely of a cat, napping in a patch of sunlight. "Envious?"

 

"For having you with ... him for that time."

 

Teles smiled a little, reaching up to trace one of the magenta stripes across his cheek. "I wasn't with 'him,' Sesshoumaru. I was with you. Though, yes, he was slightly... different," she said, choosing her words carefully, "-- but circumstances do have the power to leave one somewhat altered."

 

"I don't suppose I can argue with that," Sesshoumaru replied.

 

"Are you quite sure? I had thought you could argue with anything."

 

Sesshoumaru laughed softly, letting the warmth of Teles' body slowly permeate the chilled ache that had settled in his chest. She had returned to him, and whatever her reasons, whatever had convinced her, he would not give her cause to leave again. His arms tightened around her, an almost imperceptible gesture, but one that did not go unnoticed by the pregnant woman.

 

"Sesshoumaru?" she asked, softly.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Please, beloved... don't." There was a husky note in her voice that tore at him and he swallowed hard.

 

"Don't what, Teles?" The youkai forced neutrality into his tone, despite the overwhelming relief that she had returned, and -- more to the point -- had apparently forgiven him.

 

"I love you," she said quietly, "for your arrogance, your haughtiness -- even your pride. So, please -- argue with me. Bathe me in your arrogance, youkai. I have missed it."

 

He stared at her for a long moment before clearing his throat and schooling his expression into one of patented disinterest. "Do you mean to say that my... counterpart was lacking in arrogance?"

 

She laughed then -- a mirthful chuckle that had been too long absent from these walls. "That Sesshoumaru most certainly had... moments. However, he also had..." Her features settled into a thoughtful frown. "He had moments," she said again, "when he was quite humble. It saddened me, I think."

 

His expression was dubious. "...Saddened you? I should think it would have been--"

 

"--A welcome change?" Teles finished for him, arching an eyebrow.

"At the very least."

 

"I suppose you're right, at least in some degree. He seemed to expect that I wouldn't wish to speak with him at all." Teles ignored Sesshoumaru's soft snort at this comment. "And I might have been less inclined to, had it not been for..." Here, she trailed off, her eyes going up to Sesshoumaru's face for several seconds before going to the odd bag she had brought with her.

 

"What is it?" he asked, frowning slightly as he ran his hand over her head.

 

"Something he -- you -- gave me," she said, her eyes still on the satchel. "It... I suppose you could say it convinced me that I needed to speak with him -- you." Teles made a face. "Referring to two of the same youkai shouldn't be this difficult." And, saying this, she carefully disentangled herself from Sesshoumaru's arms, crawling across the futon to where the innocuous leather bag presently rested. She opened it and rifled around for a moment before withdrawing

 

Sesshoumaru could see nothing particularly unique about the folded, white square, and very nearly said as much when Teles unfolded it and spread it out on the futon. The only thing that occurred to him was that, whatever it was, it seemed somewhat impractical -- it was far too small to be of any use to either of them. But then he saw the embroidery at the corner; brilliant red hibiscus flowers surrounded a vibrant blue crescent moon. He looked up at his mate, golden eyes confused.

 

"I gave this to you?"

 

"You did."

"...Very well. What is it?" Teles looked at him for a moment or two before closing her eyes and shaking her head, chuckling softly. This, however, did nothing to enlighten the youkai, who looked again at the white square, trying to ascertain its use.

 

"It's for the baby, Sesshoumaru. It's a blanket, for the child."

 

He stilled, blinking slowly as he saw the item with new eyes. Tilting his head slightly, Sesshoumaru reached out and brushed his fingertips over the embroidery. On one hand, it struck the youkai as odd that he'd choose such a gift; on the other hand, it was unlikely he would have expected Teles to ever agree to speak with him, and something like this would have been a way for Sesshoumaru to let his child know... something about his heritage.

 

"And you... this convinced you..."

"A gift like this... it is not the sort of thing you would have sent if you felt nothing but disgust for your human mate and half-breed child."

 

Hera's words flashed through Sesshoumaru's mind, nearly causing him to flinch. 'Go home to your human vermin and unborn mongrel, demon.' "I am... quite glad you decided to see it that way."

 

"As am I." Moving carefully, she leaned in, brushing a soft kiss across his cheek. He turned his head slightly, catching her mouth. The warm lips against his own made something begin to unwind inside of him, and for a moment it was as if he'd finally released a deep breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

 

Teles broke the kiss gently, pulling back just far enough to meet his eyes. "There is, however," she said, "one other thing with which we must contend."

"Oh?"

 

"...A small matter of hygiene, beloved."

 

 

 

Several hours later, Rin sat before the fire in the main hall. Her elbows rested upon her knees, and tiny fists propped up her chin. The firelight warmed her features and flickered in her eyes.

 

"Jaken-sama?" she called as the toad youkai bustled through the vast chamber. He paused a moment and turned to face the human child.

 

"Yes, what is it?"

 

"How much longer till I get to visit with Teles-sama?" she asked plaintively. "I promised I'd wait till after Sesshoumaru-sama's bath, but that was so long ago! He's got to be all clean by now! Can't I go in and see them? Please?"

 

Being a youkai who considered himself to be reasonably quick on the uptake, Jaken knew at once that the child's suggestion was a terrible idea and why it was a terrible idea. However, the child was still... well, a child, and any accurate explanation would prove to be a bit too... revealing, to say nothing of the embarrassment it would undoubtedly cause Sesshoumaru-sama. His lord quite liked his privacy, and if Rin ever saw...

 

"No," he replied firmly. He knew that a firm tone was reasonably effective when dealing with the girl, and he even managed to remain unyielding when she huffed a little, slouching further on the cushion. "You will be invited in when Sesshoumaru-sama and Teles-sama are ready, and not a moment sooner."

 

"Oh-kay," she sighed, slumping. "Do you think it's taking so long because Sesshoumaru-sama's apologizing to Teles-sama?"

 

Jaken didn't reply for a moment or two. "I think," he said, finally, "that that's probably an excellent guess."

 

 

 

Despite the conveniences and amenities that existed on her side of the well, Kagome was remarkably glad to be back in the Sengoku Jidai. After she and Inuyasha had returned to the village, they all settled into the warmth of Kaede's hut, and the others regaled her with tales of all that she'd missed in her two-week absence. It was comforting and reassuring to be around her friends again, and for what wasn't the first time, Kagome felt a strong sense of belonging. While she'd been at home with Mama, Souta, and Jii-chan, she'd been happy enough, but there had been that constant feeling that something wasn't quite right. It felt almost as if she'd walked off and left the water running in the bath. But that evening, as she leaned comfortably against Inuyasha's warmth, everything felt... right.

 

The rest of the group, having just returned from a shard hunt the day before, was in no hurry to get moving again. They were enjoying a day or two of reprieve before heading off again, and while Kagome was feeling an odd itch for adventure, which she attributed to two weeks of relaxation, school, and Souta's video games, she opted instead to busy herself helping Kaede around the village. A few of the children in the village had come down with winter colds, and Kagome had spent much of the next afternoon in the quarantine hut with Kaede, Sango, and Miroku (even Inuyasha wound up helping, which was a surprise to Kagome, if not to anyone else).

 

As they worked, Kagome couldn't help but notice something that seemed distinctly... odd. Sango, who was typically always so devoted to whatever task lay before her, seemed unusually distracted, particularly when Miroku was nearby. The houshi, on the other hand, didn't seem distracted at all. On the contrary, Kagome had never seen him quite so at ease. She watched the pair closely, noting that Sango appeared to be trying very hard to ignore Miroku, but failing. Kagome frowned faintly. What could have happened? After a moment or two, she made up her mind to ask the taiji-ya about it.

 

Once the children had fallen asleep, Kaede dismissed the group, who went to wash up before turning their attention to supper preparations. Kagome and Sango made their way to the modest shed used primarily for food stores in the winter months. It was stocked with rice and vegetables, as well as game the village men had caught during the previous months.

 

Once the door closed behind them, Kagome began measuring rice into the kettle before clearing her throat and saying in a light, disinterested tone, "So, did anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

 

A simple question couldn't have had a more surprising reaction. Sango started suddenly and dropped the few daikon she was carrying. Kagome set down the kettle and stooped to help her friend pick up the fallen vegetables.

 

"Interesting?" Sango asked, her voice unnaturally high as she took the daikon from Kagome. "What do you mean by that?"

 

Kagome frowned a little but shrugged, trying to suppress the twinge of worry that was blossoming in her chest. Could Miroku have gone back to his old ways after being so convincing for such a long time? "Nothing, I was just... well, it's only that you seemed kind of..."

 

The taiji-ya fidgeted, nervous fingers tracing the white radishes. "Kind of...?"

 

"Well, kind of distracted. I was just a little worried. I thought maybe something happened while you and Miroku-sama were at the village together." She hated to consider it, but it was the only explanation -- Miroku had to have done something. After all, he didn't seem any different, and Sango didn't seem to be able to so much as look at him without blushing.

 

Sango looked faintly uncomfortable, and her cheeks warmed with color again. "Well..."

 

Kagome sighed hard. I knew it. "Oh, Sango-chan, I'm so sorry. I was afraid of--"

 

"No, nothing like that Kagome-chan," Sango interjected, shaking her head. "No, he didn't...do anything wrong."

 

"He didn't?" Kagome wasn't sure whether she should be relieved or annoyed with the monk.

 

And then, to Kagome's eternal confusion, the taiji-ya's blush deepened even further. "No, ah, he... didn't."

 

"...Oh. Well, that's... good," she said lamely. "Isn't it?" Sango didn't reply. In fact, to Kagome's eyes, she looked more and more uncomfortable. She took a step forward and rested her hand on Sango's forearm. "Sango-chan? What's wrong?"

 

Closing her eyes, Sango drew in a deep breath and expelled it. When she opened her eyes, Kagome saw something... different in the young woman's gaze. In fact, the tint at her cheeks seemed not to be one of embarrassment, but of something else entirely.

 

Kagome swallowed hard. "Sango-cha--"

 

The shed door opened suddenly and Miroku's dark head poked in, a ready smile at his lips. "Ah, Kaede-sama said I'd find you two..." he trailed off as he took in the scene before him, and the characteristic grin at his lips changed slightly. In only a matter of seconds, Miroku's expression went from one of mischievous amusement to one of shy pride. "Ah." He cleared his throat softly. "Have you... told Kagome-sama yet?"

 

Sango smiled and looked down. "I was just about to."

 

Kagome looked back and forth between her friends, her mind working frantically to piece together what she was seeing. Some part of her mind had already reached the logical conclusion, but no matter how logical it was, she couldn't quite wrap her head around the idea. "...Tell me... what?" she asked slowly.

 

Miroku came into the shed and went to Sango's side. The two exchanged a small smile before looking back at Kagome. "Miroku has...asked me to marry him."

 

 

 

Inuyasha lifted the axe above his head, bringing it down and splitting the log effortlessly. Kaede-babaa had sent Miroku off a few moments earlier to ask Kagome to bring some bundle of herbs or something from the storage shed, leaving Inuyasha alone with his thoughts and the kindling. In fact, the swarm of musings chasing around his head nearly drowned out the sound of the axe coming down hard on the chopping block, over and over again.

 

Things were changing, and it only impressed upon him the importance of gathering shards and defeating Naraku once and for all so things could change. Knowing that his nephew would be brought up on this side of the well, for instance, instilled in the hanyou a sense of grim urgency. He didn't want the kid growing up in a world where scum like Naraku existed.

 

Besides, I promised I'd help protect the brat. And what about Sango and the bouzu? They're getting married. Married. Hell. What happens if they have a kid and we don't defeat Naraku? Kid's gonna have a hole in his hand too, just like his dad. No, we've got to do someth--

 

Just then, a high-pitched squeal came from the direction of the storage shed, shattering Inuyasha's train of thought. He winced, ears flattening firmly against his skull. After a moment, when the noise subsided, he exhaled a chuckle and shook his head ruefully.

 

It's about damned time. I thought they'd never tell her.