InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 3: Forever ❯ The Secret of the Hanyou ( Chapter 6 )

~~Chapter 6~~

~The Secret of the Hanyou~

 

“Have you lost your mind?” Nezumi hissed as she jerked her hand away from Ryomaru. He paused in his stride long enough to retrieve her hand again before pulling her into the stairwell and onto the first flight of steps. “Ryo, damn it! Let go!”

 

He didn't let go, and he didn't stop tugging on her, either. She stumbled, wincing as her ankle buckled awkwardly. With a sharp hiss of pain, she wrenched her hand out of his grasp and leaned back against the wall, bending over to jerk the devil-ridden shoes off her feet as she glared up at Ryomaru. “Are you trying to kill me?” she demanded.

 

Ryomaru wasn't impressed with her show of temper. “Feh! Not fucking hardly, Nez! What the hell were you thinking? Never mind that. Stay here.”

 

“Where are you going?” she demanded as he turned on his heel and ran back up the stairs.

 

“Where the hell do you think? I'm going to go kill that rotten little bastard!”

 

If it had been anyone but Ryomaru, she would have just thought he was spouting a figure of speech. She knew his temper too well, knew that he had somehow been provoked past common sense, and though she didn't know why, she did know he was absolutely serious. “Ryo, damn it, stop that! Akuma didn't do anything!” she ground out between clenched teeth as she rubbed her ankle to disperse the throbbing pain.

 

He looked like he was torn between the desire to go back and tear into Akuma and the need to yell at her. Whipping back around to face her again, he stomped back down the stairs. “I told you that you couldn't go, and what the fuck are you wearing?”

 

“A dress,” she told him. “You can't tell me what to do, baka!”

 

“The hell I can't!” he bellowed.

 

“No, you really can't!” she yelled back, letting go of her injured ankle and straightening her back to glower up at Ryomaru. “You don't own me, and you're not my mate!”

 

“Oh, yeah? Then what would you call it?”

 

“You're a pain in my a---”

 

He cut her off with a narrow glare. “Don't even finish that,” he warned then gestured at her dress as he shook his head violently, furiously. “Anyway, that's . . . you can't . . . Damn it! What were you thinking? That dress barely covers anything!”

 

Nezumi had to count to twenty before she dared speak to Ryomaru again. “I didn't pick this dress! Father did, and---”

 

“And you're fucking wearing it, aren't you?”

 

“Not by choice!”

 

“Do you think I want every pathetic man around staring at you like you're a piece of meat?”

 

“Why do you care?”

 

Ryomaru grimaced and threw his hands up at his sides in complete exasperation as his eyes raked over her. An odd sort of brightness flickered behind his gaze; an emotion she couldn't interpret made her catch her breath. She'd seen that look in his eyes once before, and if she really stopped to think about it, maybe she'd be able to place it, but he was too furious, too unsettling, and much, much too close for her comfort. `Angry, maybe . . . but there's something else there, too . . . What is it, and why is he looking at me like that?'

 

“Because,” he ground out when his fierce glower finally rose to meet her stare. “You're. My. Mate.”

 

“I'm not your---” cutting herself off with a deep breath meant to calm her rapidly escalating temper, Nezumi balled her hands into fists and mentally recited the alphabet. “Can I borrow your jacket?” she finally asked, fighting to keep the irritation out of her tone.

 

He snorted. “Feh! What for?”

 

“Because,” she explained slowly, evenly, employing the tone of voice that she knew he hated---the one reserved for small children and idiot adults, “I feel stupid.”

 

“Yeah?” he shot back smugly, hands on hips as he pinned her with a condescending glare, “you should have listened to me, huh, Nez? Besides, you look . . . fine.”

 

Gritting her teeth together as Ryomaru's eyes raked over her, she ignored the instant flash of heat that rattled through her as her belly churned in an overly-pleasant way. “No, you baka! That's not the point, and that's not why I feel stupid, anyway!”

 

“Then why would you feel stupid? Because you're not hiding yourself in those huge-ass clothes you normally wear?”

 

Her anger spiked, and she stomped down the stairs before she gave in to the desire to chuck the shoes at the irritating hanyou's head. “Because I'm not wearing a damn bra, Ryo!” she yelled, her voice echoing off the brick walls as her cheeks colored painfully with the realization of what she'd just admitted.

 

The string of very loud, very angry denunciations mercifully drowned out the residual echoes of her yelled confession as he ran down the stairs after her, shrugging off his jacket as he moved. Tossing the leather coat directly at her chest, he glowered at her as she stepped back. She couldn't remember ever seeing Ryomaru quite this furious---at least, not at her. He paused suddenly and lifted his nose, making a show of sniffing the air. “Damn it!”

 

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

 

Ryomaru grimaced. “I was trying to make sure you're wearing underwear,” he admitted as he continued to glare at her. “But I can't tell since I'm fucking human!”

 

Feeling her cheeks redden even more, Nezumi was torn between the need to defend herself and the desire to know just why he was human. In the end, her honor won out, and she lifted her chin haughtily before glaring back at him. “If you think I'd leave the apartment without those, then you really are stupid!”

 

“Stupid, am I? I wasn't stupid enough to go running around in public without a bra!”

 

“You don't wear a bra, you ass!”

 

He opened his mouth to retort then snapped it closed as his face reddened a little. “No,” he agreed grudgingly, “I don't.”

 

For some reason, Ryomaru's response diffused much of her irritation, and Nezumi sighed, rubbing her forehead as she slowly shook her head. “Ryo . . . did you have to do that?”

 

“Do what?”

 

Her hand dropped, and she shrugged as she tromped down the next flight of stairs. “Did you have to yell all that?”

 

Ryomaru loped down the stairs to catch up with her. “It wasn't my fault! You shouldn't have agreed to go . . . or should have at least remembered to wear your damn bra.”

 

“Not that! What you yelled, about being mates.”

 

He stopped abruptly and uttered a sound that reminded Nezumi of a dog guarding his territory. “Yes, I think I did have to. Whether you like it or not, it's true.”

 

Nezumi didn't respond to that as she pulled the leather jacket over her arms. The warmth of Ryomaru's hand made her gasp softly as he gently pulled her hair out of the collar. Whipping her head to the side to stare up at him, her heart leapt in her chest, lodged in her throat. He didn't look angry anymore, but she couldn't read the expression in his gaze. Whatever it was made her forget to breathe as her lips parted; as she tried to form words that wouldn't come.

 

Time stood still, and for a dizzying moment, Nezumi almost thought he was going to try to kiss her. Contradictory thoughts spiraled through her head. If he tried, would she let him? Did she dare? `Stop that, Nez! You don't want him to kiss you, remember? That's what started this whole mess!'

 

And if that were the case, then why was her heart thumping so hard that she had to press her hands over it to keep it in her chest? Strange sensation as the oxygen in her blood dropped made her feel light-headed, and she gasped when her body finally remembered that she desperately needed to breathe . . .

 

He finally cleared his throat, forced his eyes away as a hint of pink crept up his cheeks, and he started down the stairs again. “Come on, Nez,” he called back over his shoulder. “You can yell at me more after I take you home.”

 

 

-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-

 

 

“So . . . why are you human?” Nezumi asked as she tucked her legs to the side and glanced up from the box of fried rice.

 

Ryomaru set his box aside and grimaced. “Part of being a hanyou. I'm human every month on the new moon.”

 

Her eyebrows shot up then drew together as she poked the rice with her chopsticks. “You never told me that before.”

 

“You never asked.”

 

“Don't blame it on me!”

 

Ryomaru sighed as he snatched his rice. “All right . . . Mother and the old man didn't want us to tell everyone. We were only supposed to tell our mates . . . `Course, I was supposed to do it before I got mated . . .”

 

Nezumi slowly glared at him. “Let's not go there again, okay?”

 

He shrugged. “You asked.”

 

“Yeah . . . remind me not to do that again.”

 

Ryomaru dumped the last of his rice into his mouth and turned to toss the empty container toward the trash can. Nezumi shook her head when the container just barely hit its intended mark. “If you miss, you get to pick it up,” she remarked mildly.

 

“Keh! As if I'd miss.”

 

She rolled her eyes, untangling her sweatpants-clad legs as she stood up to throw away her container, too. Ryomaru grabbed it out of her hand and threw it then grinned smugly when he made the shot. Nezumi ignored him as she ambled over to drop her chopsticks into the sink. When she turned around, she spotted Ryomaru stalking around the living room, looking agitated. “What's wrong with you?” she asked in a carefully neutral tone.

 

He didn't pause in his gait as he prowled the living room. “I hate feeling like I can't go anywhere,” he growled.

 

Nezumi grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and stood up slowly, brushing hair out of her face as she tried to keep her expression blank. `Duh, Nez . . . You didn't really think he wanted to stay here, cooped up with you . . .' She winced at her thoughts and forced a small smile as she turned back to face him again. “You know, you don't have to stay here,” she remarked in what she hoped was a disinterested tone.

 

Ryomaru snorted and stopped pacing long enough to shoot Nezumi a quelling glance. She didn't see it as she carefully picked at the plastic ring around the water bottle cap. “Keh! Don't be stupid. It ain't because of you. I always feel like this when I'm human.”

 

The way he said the word `human' gave her pause, and she dropped the plastic in the trash can before looking back at him again. He was pacing once more. `Prowling, actually . . . That's what it seems like, anyway . . .'

 

“I'll be fine in the morning,” he grumbled.

 

“What's wrong with being human?”

 

He flopped down on the sofa and heaved a sigh, shaking his head like he thought she ought to know the answer to that. Nezumi scooted between his legs and the coffee table to resume her place on the other end of the sofa. “Nothing . . . everything . . . You wouldn't get it.”

 

Swallowing a gulp of water before setting the bottle aside, Nezumi bit her bottom lip as she stared at him for a moment. “Try me.”

 

She didn't think he was going to answer. He leaned forward, snatching her water off the table, and drained the bottle before pitching it toward the trash can as his scowl darkened. “It fucks up every single one of my senses,” he admitted finally. “I can still hear and smell and all that, but not like I normally do. It's like . . . like I'm trapped, and I can't do a damn thing about it.” He shook his head again and glowered at his human hands. “At least it's only one night. Not like I'm forced into this forever, right?”

 

Nezumi forced a smile. “Yeah . . . just tonight.”

 

Standing abruptly, she strode over to the balcony doors and hurried outside. The cool night air hit her skin, and she closed her eyes as his words looped through her head. `Like I'm trapped . . . forced into this forever . . .'

 

Maybe she was reading too much into his simple statement about being human. Maybe her conscience was pricking her again. Maybe it was the underlying hint of misery in his gaze when he'd said the words. For some reason, Nezumi couldn't believe that he had only been talking about his state of being. She knew—just knew—that he was talking about them.

 

`Thought you didn't believe all his talk about `mates' and the like.'

 

Nezumi let her head fall back as she stared at the starless, black sky. `I don't.'

 

`If you don't, then why are you moping around?'

 

`I'm not,' she argued. `I'm . . . thinking.'

 

The voice in her mind snorted, and it sounded entirely too much like Ryomaru. `Keh! Keep lying to yourself, Nez. Someday you might believe it.'

 

“You okay?”

 

Nezumi slouched forward and leaned on the railing. “Fine. Just wanted some fresh air.”

 

He stepped up beside her and mimicked her stance. “Nights like this . . . they're lonely.”

 

She glanced at him. He was staring up at the sky just like she had been doing. Profile etched in silent relief against the black sky, he looked different, mysterious, and for a moment Nezumi wondered if she really knew him at all. “Does that mean that Kichiro is human tonight, too?”

 

Ryomaru nodded slowly. “Yep. So's Gin. So's the old man.”

 

“Sounds weird.”

 

“Not really. Hanyous are . . . different.”

 

“Different, how?”

 

A strange expression crossed Ryomaru's face, but he masked it before she could take the time to interpret it. “Are you cold?”

 

She didn't call him on the abrupt change of subject. “No . . . I'm fine. Are you? Cold, I mean?”

 

He frowned. “No, but I feel temperatures more, in this form.”

 

“It's hard for you, being human.”

 

Ryomaru turned to stare at her, his dark eyes intense and penetrating. “The old man said we should be proud of what we are because he wasn't for a long time. He said Mother showed him that being hanyou wasn't a bad thing. Being human once a month . . . maybe it's the price I have to pay for everything I can do.”

 

“Why don't you go out? Do something? Take your mind off being human for the night?”

 

He shook his head. “Can't. There're a few youkai who would love to find out what night I'm human. I probably shouldn't have gone after you.”

 

“Why?”

 

He smiled a little but there was an edge to it; a hardness that she hadn't seen in his expression before. “Just say it's part of my job.”

 

Nezumi bit her lower lip at the implied meaning behind Ryomaru's words. “You never told me what you do for your uncle.”

 

“Maybe you're better off not knowing,” he said slowly.

 

An involuntary chill raced down her spine, and for once, she didn't know if she really ought to press the issue. She thought that he really didn't do much of anything for his uncle. Now she was starting to wonder . . . “Is it dangerous?”

 

“Nah,” he said as he shifted his gaze back to the skies again. “My old man trained me well enough.”

 

“So . . . what you do isn't dangerous?”

 

He shrugged.

 

“. . . Okay.”

 

Her tone should have told him that she didn't believe him. If he got the message, he didn't comment on it, though. Laughing suddenly, he looked at her again as she narrowed her gaze, wondering just what he found so amusing. “You remember that time we broke into the snack machine at school?”

 

She grinned despite herself. “Yeah . . . I don't think I've ever seen your father so mad.”

 

“I'd have caught hell worse for it if I hadn't ended up sicker than hell.”

 

Nezumi laughed, too. “You deserved that. How many candy bars did you eat?”

 

Ryomaru groaned. “About twenty too many. You ate more of them than I did. You never got sick, did you?”

 

Nezumi blushed. She never had admitted it to him before. For some reason, maybe she could now. “Yeah, I did.”

 

“You did?” he echoed, eyebrows shooting up as he stared at her with open admiration in his gaze. “You never said so. You always said that I was a wimp for that.”

 

She grinned. “You were. You were the one who whined about it for days.”

 

“Cut me some slack, Nez . . . You just said you made yourself sick, too.”

 

“Maybe, but I didn't whine.”

 

He cocked his head to the side, the mischievous glint surfacing in his gaze—a look she knew just a little too well. Backing away from the railing, she slowly shook her head as she skirted around him. “Don't you dare,” she warned him as she lifted her hands to stave him back.

 

He turned slowly as Nezumi kept retreating. She bumped against the door and quickened her pace as Ryomaru started after her. By the time she stepped inside, he was closing in fast. With a shriek, she wheeled around and ran. If she could reach her bedroom before he caught her, she'd be home free, safe behind a locked door . . .

 

She underestimated his speed, though. Even in human form, he was much too quick, way too agile. He tackled her, bearing her down against the bed as her shriek dissolved in fits of laughter. He had her arms pinned under her stomach, and she tried to throw him off. It didn't work. “Ry-o . . . !” she gasped between bouts of laughter, “get—off—can't—breathe!”

 

“Say it, Nez,” he demanded as his fingers tickled her sides unmercifully. “'Ryo, you're not a wimp.'”

 

“Get—off!”

 

“'You're not a wimp!'”

 

“No!” Laughter mixed with a muffled scream escaped as he kept tickling her. “Okay!” she gasped. “I'm not a wimp!”

 

“Wench!”

 

“All right!” she agreed. “You're not a wimp!”

 

Ryomaru shifted to the side as Nezumi rolled onto her side. “You're such a jerk,” she giggled as she started to sit up.

 

“Am I?” he challenged as he flexed his fingers meaningfully. Nezumi laughed as she pushed her feet against the bed to propel herself away from his reach. “I'm not . . .”

 

“Yes,” she stated matter-of-factly, “you are.”

 

“I have the power of tickle,” he informed her as he rolled to his hands and knees and stalked her.

 

Nezumi shrank back against the headboard and drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around her legs. “And I have the power of punt,” she shot back.

 

“You wouldn't.”

 

She wrinkled her nose but smiled, completely ruining the effect as he prowled closer. “I'm not really a jerk,” he pointed out.

 

“That's debatable.”

 

“Do you really think so? I thought you said I'm your best friend.”

 

His eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, and the laughter suddenly died on her lips as she was mesmerized, caught in his gaze. “R-Ryo?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Wh-what are you d-d-doing?”

 

“N-n-nothing,” he mimicked as he grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs down. In her complete bemusement, she didn't think to fight him. He crawled toward her, straddling her legs, planting his hands on either side of her, flat on the headboard. Staring at her with the same intensity that she remembered seeing in his eyes the night everything had changed, he leaned in, closer and closer, until she could feel his ragged breath rippling over her lips.

 

`Snap out of it, stupid! He's done this to you before!'

 

Nezumi groaned, wishing that she could ignore that voice and knowing that the words were true. Turning her head away as every part of her protested, she drew a stuttering breath and let it out in a harsh sigh. “I . . . I think I'm tired now,” she forced herself to say, wincing inwardly at the tremor that she heard in her voice.

 

His sigh was more of an exhalation that stirred her hair and sent shivers down her spine as he hesitated a moment before quickly scooting off the bed. “Uh . . . yeah . . . Night, Nez. I'll be on the sofa, if you need me.”

 

Clamping her mouth closed as she resisted the desire to call him back, Nezumi closed her eyes as she willed her heart to stop hammering against her ribcage.

 

“Nez?”

 

Her eyes snapped open as she turned her head to stare at him. Standing in the doorway with the faint light from the living room outlining him, she couldn't see his face. “What?”

 

“I didn't mean to—I tried not to . . .” He sighed again and slowly shook his head. “Good night.”

 

She watched him go, letting her temple thump against the headboard. A deep ache swelled in her chest, and she almost ran after him. for some reason and for one dizzying, frightening moment, he had almost seemed to be fading away from her.

 

A sudden rush of unwanted memories stopped her. How many women had he told her about? How many times had she called his cell phone only to be told that it wasn't a good time, if he answered at all? `Don't be a fool, Nezumi . . . Ryo was never meant to be yours.'

 

Nezumi flopped back, dragging a pillow over her head to muffle her low groan. As true as that may be, it didn't dissuade the small part of her that still wished for impossible things.

 

She lay awake for hours in the dark, wondering what Ryomaru was thinking. The clock on the nightstand ticked away the minutes, the hours, as she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

 

Finally it came to her, stealing over her softly, gently; a merciful sleep without dreams.

 

She didn't see the silent figure in the doorway. She didn't sense the troubled gaze of the one who lingered. Ryomaru frowned as he stared at her peacefully sleeping form. He was as confused as she was.

 

She was Nezumi. He knew everything about her. She was his friend, but until the night he'd mated her, had he even realized she was a woman? He winced as realization hit him. No, he hadn't, not really.

 

He knew her well, probably better than anyone else alive. He hadn't had to explain things to her before. Too often it went without saying, the subconscious understanding, and he hadn't thought, had he? He'd never had to think about the things he said to her. Maybe he should have.

 

He was a fool—ten times a fool. He really had wanted to kiss her, and he would have, if she hadn't stopped him. Why did he know that he would have made everything that much worse? `Maybe . . . maybe I wanted it a little too much . . .'

 

Pushing away from the doorframe, Ryomaru quietly crept to the edge of the bed. A shaft of hard light filtered through the window from the fake lights on the outside of the building. Even in the darkest nights, in this time and in this place, man feared the shadows. Though Ryomaru hadn't ever cared for the fabricated brightness, at the moment he was thankful.

 

The warmth of the yellow light cast her skin in a warm glow. Eyelashes thick and black fanning over her delicate cheeks, dusty rose lips parted slightly as she breathed so softly it was hard to discern, Nezumi slept. Sometimes when she looked at him, the intensity of her gaze was enough to keep him from seeing her face, and Ryomaru realized something that he had overlooked for far too long; something he should have known but might have taken for granted.

 

`She's . . . beautiful.'

 

A savage jolt of something frightening slammed through him as he dropped to his knees beside the bed. `Mine,' he thought as his eyebrows drew together. `Mate.'

 

`My mate . . .'

 

Ryomaru shook his head, as though he were trying to dispel the traces of the gruff voice. A vague memory that consisted more of sensation than thought trickled over him, washed through him as he slowly reached out, as he smoothed her hair. In her sleep, she turned into his touch.

 

She sighed softly, and he smiled. Her skin was dusted with a hint of color, a healthy glow, and the image of her settled over him, the lingering blush of a more heated moment. Whether it was fantasy or reality, he wasn't certain. The lines between the two were blurred. Was it what he wanted to believe or had it actually happened?

 

Shifting his gaze away from her as the desire to kiss her encompassed his mind, he caught sight of the pool of black crushed velvet on the floor. The tiny dress lay in a heap on the floor, forgotten, discarded, and Ryomaru had to look away. She'd looked too damn good in that, and if he thought about it too much, he'd wake her up, and then she'd really hate him.

 

He hadn't realized how feminine her body was. That was the problem. Having spent years hiding herself in the confines of her clothing, he hadn't really paid attention to the curves she'd developed over time. If seeing her in a towel had been shocking; seeing her in that dress had been absolutely devastating. Showing off her legs had been more than enough to stop him dead in his tracks, but when she'd actually leaned toward that little bastard, her breasts pressing against the fabric of that dress in such a provocative way that he'd nearly whined out loud . . .

 

How had it happened? How could it be that she'd changed so greatly over time, and he hadn't noticed a thing? So wrapped up in his own legend, he'd somehow managed to miss the subtle changes that had come around so quietly, so unremarkably that he'd failed to take note, and yet he'd always believed, hadn't he, that she would always be there: his friend, his pal, his Nezumi . . .

 

Ryomaru blinked in surprise as Nezumi cuddled closer to his hand. Cutting off the low growl that he hadn't realized he was making, he stared at her again and sighed.

 

It was going to be a long, long night.

 

 

~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~ *~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~

A/N:

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Reviewers

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Breezy99 (AFFnet):

I'm surprised that Deirdre was able to sneak out of her apartment without Ryo noticing. I've kind of noticed that Ryo doesn't seem to be as perceptive as his old man, is he? Must be because he grew up under completely different circumstances than InuYasha did. heheh. Well, I'm guessing that Ryo is in some deep doggy doo doo now. That is, if Deirdre can get over the shock of his transformed (human) state. Oh, I was also kinda surprised a few chapters back, when Ryo revealed his true appearances to Deirdre. I guess I just assumed that she had known about that for quite some time. It just seemed to me that if they were such good, close friends, that Ryo would have told her about it long ago, despite the fact that youkai and hanyou have hidden their identities from humans. I figured that Ryo would entrust her with that knowledge before it became a necessity that she know about it.

 

No, actually it was because his senses were dulled since he was literally minutes away from becoming human for the night. His senses are just fine otherwise. As for your other statement, I don't really think it was that surprising. He never told her because he was told not to tell anyone, just as Toga didn't tell everyone he was youkai. It wasn't hard to hide it from her. He had the concealment, and he avoided going anywhere on the night of the New Moon. He was told not to tell anyone until he chose a mate. It would have caused more trouble to tell her than it would have not to. The only reason he told her now was because he had to.

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Toya's Gurl (FFnet):

`Metamorphosis is just something I wish would die' care to explain this? This story rocks! Why do you say something like that? Can't wait for the next chapter, I think that Ryo's gonna get in trouble.

 

I literally have no good memories of writing Metamorphosis. In all honesty, the only reason it's still posted is because I know there are some people who do like it. If it were up to me, I'd have stopped writing it before it was ever completed. It became a hurtful thing, and I don't really want to repeat the process. I think the ambivalent end to the fic fit nicely with where I was with it. I think it got the ending that fit the story. I just don't want to mess with it anymore.

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MMorg

Serendith ::: DarklessVasion ::: cj flutterbye ::: Kyonarai ::: xenus ::: notzathros ::: Shadow_Within ::: adamile (It just stopped being fun, stopped being enjoyable, stopped being something I wanted to do.) ::: Ladyblade ::: FUDGE ::: Cynbad146 ::: suzehowe ::: fruitcake (I think you've either gotten a rotten sub or something. Miroku might say that but he is also quite good at keeping certain feelings inside. He isn't about to tell her that he loves her when he is also in fear of being sucked into his kazaana) ::: angelica incarnate

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FFnet

Drake Clawfang (Ryomaru means `excellence' … and Yasha picked his name) ::: PlaidDragon25 (Yeah, but Ryomaru is around … 25 or so … ) ::: shippowantscandy ::: Flames101 ::: eriste-night ::: WiccanMethuselah ::: xSilverShadowsx ::: ILOVEINUS589 ::: btrains126 ::: SilverStarWing ::: Ryguy5387 ::: agent-doo ::: kestral-tudorica ::: Jasmine Fields

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AFFnet

Meres (To each their own. The three Deirdre's I know do NOT pronounce the first R) ::: Rawben ::: Erin ::: Inume ::: Shiga ::: Sess_2005 ::: theatricks ::: deep serenity ::: andross ::: Mel ::: CJ Finnegan ::: fruitcake ::: inugrl15 ::: Tenacious D ::: OROsan7706 (I'm going to post more on this fic first… I may not start the next one till this one is finished. I'll have to see … ) ::: rain ::: LadySttar (On her sofa) ::: obsesed_wit_fluffy

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Final Thought fromRyomaru:

…What the hell …?

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Forever): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

 

~Sue~