InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ To Catch a Falling Star ❯ thank god you re a lady still ( Chapter 9 )

Chapter Nine

Kaede sat on the lip of the well, contentedly silent as she ran the beads of a rosary between her fingers, watching the warm glow of the sun sinking below the horizon. The forest had already taken on a lavender darkness, grasping fingers of tree-shadows fading in their reach across the new grass. Kagome couldn't wait until they had leaves again: she liked the latticework of bare winter branches, but sometimes they looked less lacy and more skeletal. Shifting uneasily from where she sat cross-legged on the ground by the well, she turned as she felt Inuyasha looking at her. Kagome smiled weakly. Her senses were already off a bit: she could still catch his scent in the air, but none of the undertones that indicated emotion or well-being. While it wasn't difficult to read Inuyasha by sight alone, she already missed the more reliable information of smell.

It gladdened Kagome that the days were lengthening again: the new moon had been four nights ago, and Inuyasha had been less frustrated, if more impatient, with his human self than usual. She glanced away from him as a thought occurred to her. Maybe--she balanced on the edge of belief and disbelief, wanting to think it true but unwilling to convince herself falsely--he had noticed what she'd been doing the past few days and missed it that night: she hadn't done more than keep him company that evening when he went to check the borders of the village for anything unwelcome; chasing him would have been no fun for either of them as she could have outstripped him easily, and she had been afraid that if she'd tried to get him to wrestle with her, she might have inadvertently hurt him. She wondered if Inuyasha had felt them same, if that was part of why he tended toward reticence, thinking of her by habit as if she were still human. But presumably he'd have done stuff with Kikyou and knew otherwise. Kagome sighed.

"Keh, it's not the end of the world," Inuyasha said brusquely. He had sat where he could watch her and Kaede both, almost in front of Kagome. He had been leaning back, braced on his arms, as he had ignored the sunset in favor of watching the moon, but now he'd turned his attention to her.

Kagome tore her gaze from the purpling sky. "It's just a little weird," she replied, guessing what he was referring to and responding to that. She felt a momentary spike of anxiety, keeping a wary eye on the sun as it glimmered through the leafless trees, just touching the horizon. "You won't watch, will you?" she asked Inuyasha then glanced at Kaede to include her in the question.

Kaede merely lifted her eyebrows and gave a nod, but Inuyasha, contrary as usual, blinked. "You want me to what?"

"Not watch," Kagome said, fidgeting, beginning to wish she hadn't brought it up. It would just be odd, she'd thought, having someone stare while parts of her changed.

"Why the hell not?" Inuyasha began with a scowl. His dark brows relaxed and, to her dismay, he began to look amused. "Oh, I get it. You're being shy." He said the last in what sounded to Kagome like a patronizing tone. "It's just a part of being hanyou, bitch. You'll get used to it."

Kagome was the one to frown then. "I'm not--"

"Besides," Inuyasha continued prosaically, "I've seen it happen to you anyway."

"You have?" Kagome said, feeling crestfallen and annoyed. Her ears twitched sluggishly, too stiff to move in response. She thought she'd been pretty good about occupying herself with something solitary at the right time, like washing the dinner dishes.

Inuyasha turned his eyes back towards the waxing quarter moon. "Yeah," he said. "At least at dawn. You sleep right through it."

"Oh," was all Kagome could say. He hadn't even noticed she'd been irritated. He could be as observant as a block of wood sometimes. She had definitely been imagining things earlier, thinking he'd already noticed or understood the gestures she'd been making towards him from what she'd picked up watching the wild dogs. She sighed again and looked westward.

The last coppery glint of the sun glimmered between the bare trees as it slipped out of sight; Kagome immediately felt her body's response as she closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands, hair sliding forward in a dark curtain. With the world narrowing around her, it was like being muffled in a blanket or going blind in more ways than one: the smell of the forest carried by the breeze disappeared, Inuyasha's and Kaede's scents vanished from her horizon, even the odor of miso lingering on her hands from preparing dinner faded. The birds calling to each other in the forest became mute, the buzz of a bee fly whispered away, even the steady pulse and tired throb of Inuyasha's and Kaede's heartbeats fell into silence while her own quickened, thudding inside her chest.

Kagome let her hands fall when her heart slowed, and took a breath, fumbling for the bow and arrows she'd placed on the ground at her side when she sat. It felt odd when her fingertips brushed against them--the length of her claws meant that she touched things more with the pads of her fingers than the tips. In a quick flash of apprehension, she looked at Inuyasha then Kaede; they were both still there, and Kagome relaxed. It was almost as if they'd died in the quiet, though as she adjusted she caught a crow's harsh caw overhead as it made belatedly for its roost. Kaede had stood up; Inuyasha was watching her steadily. "Well." The sky already appeared a lot darker, though still pale with the encroaching blues of twilight. But though her other senses had dulled, one had grown with the waning of her hanyou blood: she could clearly feel Inuyasha's youki once again, and Shippou's and Kirara's as well, fainter and more distant. Kagome searched for something light to say, settling on a weak, "Now it feels like old times." Inuyasha snorted, straightening as he crossed his arms.

"Kagome, why don't you try one of the arrows first," Kaede said.

Kagome looked around, mouth turning down thoughtfully at the corners as she evaluated what was within her range. "I'll aim for that tree, then," she said, standing and indicating one forked prominently with the tip of her bow. She nocked the arrow, drawing the bowstring even with her ear in a smooth motion, aimed a little higher than the fork because the arrow would fall as it was released, and a little to the left because she always shot her arrows too far to the right. Purify, she thought, and released. Light, obvious even to Kaede and Inuyasha, blossomed at the tip of the arrow as it sped towards, then past the tree.

Inuyasha muffled what sounded like a snorting laugh by turning his face into his shoulder. Kagome glared at him. "It's been months since I had to shoot a bow, okay?"

The hanyou nodded as if agreeing. "It's a good thing you don't need one to hunt anymore." Kagome almost nodded herself before catching the implications of his statement. She settled for continuing to glare; like this, she couldn't even growl at him.

"Inuyasha," Kaede said reprovingly. "Kagome, was that difficult?"

Turning to the elderly miko, Kagome shook her head. "No, I just focused like I always have."

"Hm." Kaede slipped the fingers of her hands into the dangling loop of the rosary, holding it wide and dropping it over Inuyasha's neck before the hanyou had a chance to jerk out of the way, then activating it herself with a "Sit."

"Shit!" Inuyasha cursed as the rosary pulled him down for the inevitable meeting with the earth. "Babaa, you have a death wish?" he snarled as soon as the rosary released him enough to permit him to lever himself up from the ground. He tried jerking the beads over his head, only to have the spell hold the rosary back as usual. "Kagome, take them off. Now," he said in a growl.

Kagome knelt next to him, setting the bow aside. "What do I have to do?"

"Approach it the same way you did last time," Kaede suggested, unfazed by Inuyasha's anger.

Kagome frowned with concentration then reached out to touch the beads. Nothing happened; she picked them up, touching them more firmly. The beads stayed in place. But before she could let go, Inuyasha grabbed her wrist and jerked it up; the rosary followed after and over his head. "Ah!" she exclaimed, amazed that the beads hadn't burst apart or exploded into the dark as they had the last times. Is that all there was to it? Could I have removed them that easily, all along?

Snatching the rosary from her, Inuyasha sprang to his feet. "Fuck!" he spat, eyes narrowed on Kaede. "Never again, babaa, understand?"

Unruffled, Kaede said, "It won't be necessary, Inuyasha. It has served its purpose and told me what I wanted to know."

"Fuck that!" Inuyasha grasped the rosary in his hands and tugged, easily snapping the string that held the beads together. A few pattered into the ground at his feet; the rest he flung into the night, his ears laid back.

"Inuyasha," Kagome said, standing as well. Her brows pinched together as she looked at him. Without replying, Inuyasha grabbed Tetsusaiga from where he'd left it on the ground and stalked off--towards the God Tree, Kagome thought.

"Kaede-bachan," Kagome said, taking a step after the hanyou then twisting to look back at the old woman.

Kaede knelt stiffly, picking up Kagome's discarded bow and quiver of arrows. "Go after him, Kagome. But you understand now, do you not? You still have your miko abilities, but being a hanyou interferes with them, maybe restrains them. Or," her glance flicked after the path Inuyasha had taken; to both their eyes, however, he was gone in the darkness, "it's the other way around."

Kagome followed her gaze, then turned to the elderly miko. "Yes, Kaede-bachan." She darted another glance in the direction Inuyasha had gone in, took a second step forward, then looked back once more. "Thank you," she said, giving a quick bow before running after Inuyasha. The quarter moon provided only weak light; she kept her eyes on the ground as she ran, feeling for Inuyasha's youki. I hope he stopped at the God Tree. I won't be able to see if he went into the forest.

* * *

"Come on, but quietly," Miroku emphasized, helping Sango to hurry up the shrine steps with a hand to her elbow. His comment was primarily directed at a snickering Shippou: Sango knew well the necessity of silence, Kohaku was uneasy and mute in voice and movement as a result, and Rin was nearly speechless with wide-eyed curiosity.

"You used to do this all the time to Inuyasha-sama and Kagome-neechan?" she asked, glancing to Sango for corroboration.

Sango confirmed this with a nod, adding, "And they did it to us," as she accepted Miroku's hands to help her steady herself as she left the shrine steps for the concealment of the surrounding brush. Her own were grimy from soot; Sango had been interrupted assisting the blacksmith, with Rin to watch over Tenichi--who had hastily been left in a neighbor's care--while leaving Kohaku free to practice.

"That is why," Miroku said in a whisper, Shippou leaping nimbly to a spot free of leaves or twigs, "we're doing this now. It's perfectly justified." Indeed it was. Miroku had been convinced for a long time that he had missed several good opportunities to let his hands wander along Sango's delightful curves thanks to her awareness of observation by their nosy fellow-travelers, not to mention actual interruptions from them. It was, in consequence, only right and proper that they should reciprocate as the occasion presented itself.

After Kohaku assisted Rin over the edge of the stairs, they followed Shippou's instructions, slowly working their way towards a place where, concealed by a thick stand of trees and brush just beginning to bud with leaves, they had a vantage of the God Tree--and, more importantly, of a certain lower limb that was the preferred resting-point of a white-haired hanyou.

The present surveillance attempt had its roots in the day Miroku had learned that Kagome had broken the rosary. It had been obvious, when he returned home, that she and Sango had been having a talk: one of those intense, discuss-your-feelings sort of conversations Miroku knew Sango would never reveal the details of in this life. And having seen Kagome's face after she arrived at the old hut they used as teaching space--its previous occupant, may her next life be free from cares, had died the previous winter without family to care for her grave or inherit her house--Miroku knew that conversation, and whatever argument had occasioned it, revolved around the relationship of the two hanyou.

That had been enough for him to request that Shippou trail Kagome for the next couple of weeks (with Kohaku a reluctant back-up keeping tabs on Inuyasha); but it had been Miroku's observation of their habits that provided confirmation of his guesses. Something had definitely changed.

It was clear that nothing had been said outright: it was all in small details like the narrowed distance between the two at mealtimes. Instead of sitting just far enough apart to make it evident that they weren't together, the space between the two had closed until shoulders almost brushed. Miroku had experimented for a couple of the meals he made by arranging their bowls and plates a little further apart than usual--and had then caught Kagome circumspectly edging hers closer to Inuyasha's as she reached for her chopsticks or her cup. And two or three times Miroku had noticed an accidental nudge from Kagome be repeated more forcefully until Inuyasha reciprocated, initiating a silent exchange that continued until one or the other would move out of the path of an incoming nudge and send the other jerking back to avoid sprawling ignominiously in front of everyone. Inuyasha had, every time, been holding his rice bowl up in such a way that it obscured his expression; but the quirk at the corners of Kagome's mouth and her lowered eyes were eloquent.

Once done rushing through the evening meal, it was Inuyasha's habit to disappear outside once more, regardless of the weather. Not long after Kagome had begun to follow him in those disappearances, the wary looks Inuyasha had favored her with since she broke the rosary were replaced by bemusement. That had, in the past couple of days, transmuted into a dazed thoughtfulness Miroku was unaccustomed to seeing in the hanyou's features. No explosion of temper or brazen ridicule followed, however; instead, when Kagome wasn't looking, Miroku saw Inuyasha giving her the faintest of uncertain grins: they bordered, occasionally, on smirks, as if Inuyasha suspected some joke of which Kagome was unaware. Miroku had never known Inuyasha to make a joke, however; the hanyou was so painfully direct in most circumstances that Miroku was having a hard time figuring out what all this meant, though he could guess how it was going to play out.

So he merely had Shippou trail Kagome whenever possible, which was what had led them all here today. Miroku hoped that nothing untoward happened anytime soon in the house he'd been blessing; he rather suspected he'd dropped a few syllables from his chant when Shippou had come charging up, nearly bursting with his news. Of course, if something did and the family complained, he could claim that they had only paid for a small blessing, and it was the fault of a bigger spirit, which needed an expensive exorcism. . . . Miroku bet he could get quite a bit from them with that plan.

"Here," Shippou whispered, climbing up a tree until he was just barely above the cover provided by the undergrowth. "We're downwind. They shouldn't be able to smell us. But we can't get any closer."

They all froze as one when a flock of crows lifted into the air from the forest past the God Tree, but relaxed as the commotion didn't appear to disturb the two on whom they were focused. The crows settled back into their roosts, cawing agitatedly at another--no, it was a raven, Miroku decided as the bird avoided the crows, coming closer. A movement at the tree caught his eye, causing him to snap his gaze back to the pair there before he could miss something important.

Kagome had made a leap for the branch of the God Tree on which Inuyasha had been lounging; when she arrived, he'd sat up, watching her scramble to keep her balance as she joined him on the limb. Regretting that this put her back to them, Miroku could see the pale gashes in the bark where her toes had fought for purchase. Inuyasha's mouth moved as he said something to her.

"But we can't hear them?" Rin asked in a plaintive whisper from where she crouched behind the thick, knotty base of a fallen tree.

"I could go--" Shippou began before breaking off with a muffled exclamation, slapping a small hand to his neck in a gesture only too familiar. A faint noise arose; when he opened his palm, it was the flea who replied.

"I am only too glad to know that I have arrived in time to hear Inuyasha-sama declare his affections!" Myouga wheezed. Responding to Rin's question, he said, "Alas, I am afraid that if we could hear them, they would know we were here."

"I bet I could go closer," Shippou finished, shaking the flea off his hand with a scowl, then shifting eagerly on his perch.

Kohaku grabbed the kitsune's tail before he could move, holding him in place. "You'll stay here."

"Myouga-sama," Miroku said in as quiet a voice as he could manage, "you knew this was going to happen?"

The flea made his way to the tip of a branch, then sat where he could watch Inuyasha and Kagome, crossing several of his arms. "Of course. I always stay informed of Inuyasha-sama's activities."

Miroku caught Sango's doubtful glance and shake of her head. "How did you hear of it, Myouga-jii?" she asked, flicking her glance between the flea and the two on the branch of the God Tree.

"Ne," said Myouga. "Have you seen any fleas hereabout?"

The eyes of Miroku's wife widened in comprehension before they narrowed on the elderly figure of the flea. "You've been gone all winter because you were hiding from that flea-baasan," Sango accused.

"Not-not at all," Myouga disclaimed in haste. "I meant nothing more than that is how I hear--"

"Hist!" Miroku whispered sharply to catch their attention, jerking his head towards the tree.

Kagome and Inuyasha seemed to have made a habit of hesitating over touch, in the years Miroku had known them. It wasn't as though it never happened: if the need was such, Inuyasha would carry her or any of them; if he was hurt, Kagome would tend to the injury as best she could. But outside of those circumstances, actual physical contact between the two was rare. Miroku considered himself something of a connoisseur of touch. He had spent years experimenting with the variety of ways and means by which one could express tactile appreciation of another; if words were needed to smooth the way, he had words. If subtlety was needed, he had it at his command. The study was a challenging one, with successes as rare and treasured as jewels, which is why he had paid attention to noticing how others approached it; after all, wasn't instruction by example the most praised form of learning? Kagome, he knew, was not averse to touching. Just watching her around Shippou--or, more recently, with Tenichi--made that plain. Her touches were casual, affectionate, her embraces thoughtfully given, her demeanor restful when holding Shippou or cradling the baby until he fell asleep.

Inuyasha, on the other hand, held himself aloof, as if to touch was to open oneself to danger, or at least a threat. His enveloping robes might be a nod to fashion and his breeding--sleeves draping past the hands was way of indicating one was noble enough that one had servants to handle most necessary tasks, rendering hand-work unneeded--but they were also another way of keeping himself to himself, a barrier of cloth between Inuyasha and casual contact. Kagome had appeared to accept that, whether knowingly or instinctually. Consequently, when Kagome reached out and laid her hands on Inuyasha's shoulders, Miroku could see that she placed them there tenuously, with all the hesitance of a moth circling a flame.

"Oh, this is good!" Sango breathed, a delighted smile brightening her face. She leaned forward. "Say something, Kagome-chan!"

They were all surprised by Inuyasha's laughter.

* * *

Kagome jerked her hands away as if burned. Staring at Inuyasha in disbelief, her ears flattened back. Mortification swept crimson across her face, but as he continued to snicker, head bowed and eyes closed, her features paled and mouth tightened to a thin line, anger rising in her. He wasn't laughing at her--the sound was that of amusement, not ridicule--but he had no business to be laughing at all. Eyes narrowed, she shifted her weight and kicked out a foot, shoving him off the branch.

Landing flat on his back in the spring thaw-softened earth managed to shake the laughter out of him. Kagome glared from where she still sat in the God Tree. She held tight to the anger, because, she had just realized, she otherwise didn't know what to say. She'd planned her response to a 'no,' hoped for a 'yes,' but dealing with the current situation hadn't entered her mind at all.

Inuyasha picked himself up and looked at her. He wasn't smiling, but the amusement was still obvious in his voice. "Kagome."

A growl was rising in her throat, but rather than give voice to it, she simply spat out a "baka" before turning her back on him. She felt nauseated beneath the anger, spasmodically digging her claws into the bark of the tree limb. Her mind kept approaching the situation before her thoughts shied away, able to think nothing beyond, What next? as if waiting for an axe to descend. Kagome desperately regretted ever having decided to do something, if this is what it came to. A laugh.

The branch moved beneath them as Inuyasha landed lightly by her; Kagome hunched her shoulders in unhappy response. A hand then touched her head, sliding down her hair in an awkward stroke; awkward, but not tentative. She tried to ignore how pleasant it felt, keeping her ears flat in evident displeasure. The hand came to rest on one of her shoulders, joined a moment later by another hand on her opposite shoulder.

Kagome's breath caught in her throat: it was the same gesture she'd offered Inuyasha minutes before. She snapped a glance over her shoulder at him. He caught her gaze directly and shifted, sliding his hold along her arms and forward; stupefied, she loosed her grasp on the tree limb as he slipped his hands over hers. Kagome looked down at them, the length of his fingers twined with hers, and felt the press of his chin on her shoulder.

Her ears relaxed; she listened to their breathing before she ventured a quiet, "But you--"

Inuyasha's voice sounded deeper to her through their contact, its roughness taking on a darker timbre. "You shouldn't be surprised, when you've been treating me all week like I was the bitch."

* * *

The sound of a loud "hokke-kyo" not far beyond the thicket woke Kagome in the morning, her head pillowed on hands, stomach to the ground: a nightingale greeting the new season. A weight was pressing into the small of her back. Craning her neck, she tried to peer over her shoulder; she wasn't flexible enough, but the length of red-clad legs stretching to her side and a spill of white hair was ample answer.

She swept her gaze forward again, biting on her lower lip to hold back what she knew would be a silly grin. Yesterday had been--and last night--Kagome vaguely remembered something about Myouga having returned, and Sango had burned the fish again, but it was all a daze. She'd not really been able to focus on anything beyond the fact that she had--and Inuyasha had--

"Since you're awake, you could at least say good morning," Inuyasha said, though his voice lacked the customary grumble that accompanied a complaint. The weight of his head on her back disappeared, the sound of rustling cloth accompanying it.

Kagome pushed herself up, turning to look at him. The pale dawn light easily found its way through the thicket branches, only beginning to show their leaf-buds, and threw a tracery of shadows over them both. There were a couple twigs snarled into the white mass of Inuyasha's hair, but he wasn't trying to jerk them out; he was looking at her.

"I thought you were asleep," she explained, fighting to keep his gaze without reddening. He didn't look the least bit uncomfortable--because he'd guessed all week long what was on her mind, the baka, while she was still getting used to knowing that he felt similarly. "Because you were still here," she said quickly, dropping her eyes after all while she pulled the tie loose from the end of her hair and started unwinding the braid by means of slipping her fingers through it and tugging them downwards.

"I wanted to stay."

Kagome's fingers tangled in her braid and came to a stop as she looked at him. She'd started putting her hair that way for the night back in the fall because it minimized the amount of leaf and twigs that would get caught in it, but right now that advantage seemed rather distant. Drawing a breath, she smiled. "Good morning." She pulled once, then jerked her hand free of the knotted remnants of the braid.

"Keh," Inuyasha said in a took-you-long-enough tone, before continuing irritably, "Does it do that every morning? Oi, stop messing with it and let me look."

After she shifted to sit in front of him, he lifted her braid off her shoulder and looked at it, before beginning to pick at it carefully with his claws. This close, she didn't have to inhale at all to catch his scent. He smelled like the God Tree, probably from hanging out in it so much, and musky through that. She thought about the way the wild dogs had licked each other's muzzles. Kagome reached out hesitantly and teased the two twigs and a leaf from his hair. "I want a good-morning, too."

"Good morning," Inuyasha said, dropping his handful of her untangled hair and rocking back onto his heels, the thicket being too close in which to stand. "Demanding bitch," he added, one corner of his mouth turning up.

Kagome grinned in reply, feeling as if a weight had lifted from her chest for the first time since before Naraku's demise--over a year ago, now. "Better me than you."

Inuyasha chuffed, moving past her to work his way through the small gap that served as the entrance and exit from the thicket. "Damn right." Kagome followed after him, knowing her grin had turned silly again. When Miroku had blandly asked after their day at the evening meal yesterday, Inuyasha had let drop the change in status with a gleeful, "You had to chase yours, but mine came right to me."

"Came on to you, you mean?" Miroku had asked, using one of the bits of slang he had picked up from Kagome.

"Aa. I was irresistible."

Red-faced, Kagome had shot a sharp glance at the priest. She could have sworn she hadn't been that obvious--Miroku must have sharper eyes than she thought. Or he'd gotten a hint from elsewhere. She looked covertly at Kohaku and Shippou, but both of them were busy eating their rice.

Sango had given her a small smile. Kagome had smiled back. No, Miroku must have figured it out on his own; she knew Sango wouldn't have said anything.

Inuyasha held the branches back for her to slip out of the thicket. "I suppose you want to go put that stuff on your teeth."

"Oh. Yes." Distracted, Kagome made a face. There wasn't much left of her toothpaste. Mama told me to be sure I had some, and I did, but I forgot to get more than a tube extra. And Yuka told me once that ancient toothbrushes were made with pig bristles and toothpaste with urine. She held back a shudder of distaste. "You could try it. Don't youkai get cavities?"

"Keh!"

"It makes your mouth taste good, too," Kagome said persuasively. Even if it did make your food taste strange afterwards. Particularly if you drank orange juice, though that wasn't an option for her anymore. "Oh," she said as Inuyasha stopped and looked down at her. "I'm supposed to fix breakfast this morning."

Inuyasha made a throat-clearing noise, shifted his weight from foot to foot, then sighed and said impatiently, "Not for a while yet, right?" When she nodded, he replied, "Then we can do some training first."

Kagome sighed, beginning to walk towards the edge of the forest and the house beyond it. "Is this going to continue forever?"

"Nah," Inuyasha said easily, falling into step beside her. "Just the next twenty years or so."

Gaping at him, Kagome's ears flatted in dismay as she said, "Twenty years? Seriously?"

"Maybe," Inuyasha said, nudging her with his shoulder. Kagome stepped sideways before she caught herself, then gave him a scowl and nudged back. "Crappy," he said. "Definitely twenty years." He nudged her again.

"You used your elbow. That's cheating," Kagome accused.

Inuyasha crossed his arms, resting his hands on his sleeves. "Whatever works." Kagome shoved harder, trying to make him sidestep; Inuyasha, with his greater weight, remained immovable. So when he shoved again, she hurried forward a step at the last moment. After catching himself, he frowned at her. Kagome grinned and loped ahead a few paces; when Inuyasha showed every sign of following, she quickened her pace, laughed at him, then darted onward at a run.

Breakfast had been unremarkable, though Inuyasha had hovered while she made it. He was more engaged in the process than was typical for him, poking his finger at the rice and reluctantly forming a few onigiri at her request. Afterwards, they joined Sango with Rin and the baby on the porch: Sango had some mending to do and Kagome didn't want to leave for Kaede's just yet because it would mean leaving Inuyasha already. So Kagome amused Tenichi by brushing his face with a lock of her hair while Shippou and Rin played a game. Inuyasha sprawled next to Kagome, propped on an elbow; Miroku, with Kohaku to accompany him, had taken Kirara for a quick trip to a neighboring village where he had been requested for an exorcism.

"If you keep doing that, Kagome-chan, he will pull it," Sango warned, smiling. She sat at the edge of the porch, feet dangling towards the ground below as she held up the needle she was attempting to thread and turned it so that its eye better caught the warm afternoon sunlight.

Everything was perfect today. Kagome shifted her arm to ease the weight of the baby's head on her elbow, then bent over to cuddle him close, grinning at the way his eyes crossed as they tried to track her face. He smelled so good! Clean like the stream water Sango had bathed him with that morning, the sun-dried cotton wrapping him, and some of the modern soap brought through the well almost a year ago. The wrapper described its odor as "Baby Fresh Scent!" which had led her to give all the bars of that sort to the taijiya just before the baby had been born. "I'm sure he knows better than to do something like that to his aunt," she said lightly, watching as Sango flicked a tolerantly skeptical glance at her in reply before wrapping the thread around her finger to tie a knot in its end.

"Can't trust a pup to know anything," Inuyasha drawled. Kagome felt a tug on her hair and looked at him: he dropped it and grinned at her. Kagome felt her expression warm, having a momentary thought of what her hair would look like braided with his; except that was silly; they'd not be able to move like that.

Between them and the garden, Rin gave a victorious cry as she grabbed several stones in succession. Shippou had pulled out the bag of rocks he had collected from various points along their travels--Kagome had been surprised, when she'd first seen it a few months ago, by the presence of a tarry pebble among them; Shippou had said that Inuyasha once brought it back through the well from her time for him: it smelled of gasoline and macadam--and spilled them on the ground. They took turns tossing a stone in the air, picking up as many pebbles as possible, then catching the tossed stone before it could hit the ground.

Kagome narrowed her eyes at Inuyasha, knowing he could see and smell how far from irritation she truly was. "That had better not be some oblique reference to my age."

"Perhaps he knows," Sango agreed, tactfully ignoring the byplay with Inuyasha. Lifting the pieces of cloth from her lap, she held a length of them between the fingers of her left hand. "But I would recommend you not take your eyes off him, Kagome-chan."

"Not take--" Kagome looked down, ears turning back with dismay at the sight. "Ack!" The baby had somehow managed to stuff his mouth with the tail-end of the dangling hair. Pulling it free, she eyed the rescued lock ruefully. "Baby slobber." She flicked it over her shoulder with a sigh, then said reprovingly to the baby, "That's not a nice thing to do to your aunt, Tenichi-chan."

Inuyasha said, self-congratulatory, "What did I tell you about trusting a pup?"

"You can tell him what he did when he's older and embarrass him in front of his friends," Sango suggested slyly.

"Gah, Sango, and you're his mother," Inuyasha said uneasily.

Kagome agreed. "That's an evil suggestion for a mother to make." She heard Inuyasha give a grunt of approval.

Sango replied serenely, "It's what I tell myself every time he wakes up in the middle of the night; and every time he soils himself."

Inuyasha snorted a laugh, Kagome grinning as she offered the baby a finger and then waved the first about when the small fingers encircled her larger one. When the handful headed invariably back towards the baby's mouth, she turned her finger deftly so that Tenichi gummed his own fist, her claw avoiding contact with his skin. The baby's eyes blinked as he looked up at Kagome. She grinned outright and leaned forward to touch the baby's nose with her own, inhaling his scent once more. So cute!

Inuyasha sat up, crossing his legs as he peered at the baby. His interest in the child had been rather minimal; Kagome showed off the other small hand to him. Inuyasha's demeanor expressed the faintest of curiosities. "See how perfect it is," Kagome explained. "And he's got dimples around his knuckles and even hair."

Inuyasha's dark brows drew together as he observed this specimen of perfection. "Is that unusual?" he asked, dubious at the praise. He poked a tentative claw at Tenichi, who grabbed onto it with his other hand. Inuyasha's eyebrows lifted; he tugged his finger back, but the baby's grip was stronger than he had anticipated. He frowned.

"A lot lose all theirs for a while," Kagome said, looking at Inuyasha. The sunlight slanted onto the porch, splashing across his hair and one ear: it made his hair almost look prismatic, showing glints of color in the pale strands, and made the inside of his ear flush a warm shell-pink. She could even see the red traceries of veins through the thin skin.

"Hn," Inuyasha commented, flicking a glance at her and then pausing, holding it on her face. His eyes were caught in the sunlight, too, pupils narrowed to thin slits and irises bright gold instead of shadowed amber.

To her discomfort, Kagome could feel her face turning bright red. She caught a breath, then stuttered, "Do--do you want to hold him?"

Inuyasha blinked and recoiled. "No!" He abruptly pulled his finger out of the baby's grasp and planted both hands on the ground as if to prevent Kagome summarily shoving Tenichi into his arms.

"Almost done," Sango said into the following silence with a cheer that belied how many times Kagome knew she had been awakened by the baby, hungry and wanting to nurse. Kagome glanced at her only to find the taijiya looking fixedly down at her sewing, but smiling at the cloth. Kagome felt like squirming inside. Sango had been watching, Kagome was certain. Everyone would be hearing about this before nightfall. She turned back to Inuyasha: he'd sprawled out along the porch once more and was gazing intently toward the forest, head pillowed on crossed arms, one ear turned towards her. Well. At least Souta wasn't here, or she'd have to be enduring annoyingly stupid songs about sitting in trees, k-i--Kagome stopped herself before she could think of the song all the way through. She didn't even know if Inuyasha knew how to--Kagome stopped that thought, too. It would be nice to have Mama's advice.

Kagome shook her head and returned her attention to Tenichi; she'd made her decisions, so there was no use in belaboring them. The baby moved his fist from his mouth, a trail of spit following it. "Ewww," Kagome said appreciatively. "Tenichi-chan, one day you will have a girlfriend, and I hope you will put your mouth to better use than now." She kept her glance fixed on him, resisting the urge to see how Inuyasha had responded to that; she heard him shift, but she wasn't going to look.

"Kagome-chan!" It was Sango's turn for shock. As Kagome glanced over to her, she could see that the taijiya had even paused in her hemming. "You shouldn't suggest such things to him."

Shippou had turned around momentarily to look at the two women, probably to see what had made Sango sound so dismayed. Finding them still engrossed with the baby, he turned back to his game with Rin. He'd told Kagome yesterday that the baby was boring--all it did was leak and stare at things--and he didn't see what made it so interesting.

"Miroku was probably told that when he was a kid," Inuyasha said.

Sango laughed as Kagome addressed the baby. "Do we want Tenichi-chan to turn out like his lecherous houshi of a father? No, we do not."

Sango set aside the sewing, folding her legs up to her chest. Her eyes rested on the baby, warm with love. "He'll be a good man some day."

The scent of the freshly planted rice paddies was strong on the breezes that whispered by from time to time. "Maybe a farmer." Kagome suggested.

"Or a blacksmith," Sango said.

Inuyasha pushed himself up onto his elbows to look past Kagome at Sango. "Not a taijiya?"

Sango shook her head. "No."

Kagome raised her eyebrows in curiosity. "You don't want to train him?"

"It's not that, although it would present some difficulties. My father didn't start to train me, or Kohaku, until after we'd learned for several years already--he said it was better that way, that we came to him disciplined and ready to learn, rather than being so young that we couldn't tell when he was our instructor and when he was our father." Sango turned her gaze to the forest.

"Kohaku could teach him," Inuyasha said, sitting up and resting his chin on Kagome's shoulder as he peered at the baby once more. Kagome's heart thudded hard for a moment as she tried to keep her breath even this time. He did that so casually now, and if she just turned her cheek even slightly, she would brush against him. Kagome was trying to decide what would be likely to happen if she did that when Sango's words drew her back to the conversation.

"Oh, Inuyasha, I don't think he'll be here that long." At Kagome's startled look, Sango said, her gaze turning anxious, "I think--I think seeing me just reminds him of everything Naraku did. Even though he can't remember it all, he remembers about me, and our father, and the rest of our village."

With a sigh, Kagome dropped her gaze to Tenichi, brushing one knuckle against the softness of his round cheek. Is Naraku why she wouldn't want Tenichi-chan to be a taijiya? The chance that he might run into someone like that? Youkai don't have a monopoly on evil, though. She'd miss Kohaku. So would Inuyasha, she knew; he was already smelling a little disgruntled. He'd been rather cocky after Tenichi's birth--his pack increasing--and the possibility of Kohaku's departure would negate that. Not that it was all about numbers; Inuyasha and Kirara often spent the time Kagome was at Kaede's letting Kohaku train his skills by practicing with them. Kagome knew Inuyasha enjoyed that, enjoyed the boy's presence. The baby gurgled, catching her finger with his own; this time, she let him suck on her knuckle. "Maybe he'll be a priest."

"Or a poet, and famous in some daimyo's court," said Sango.

Kagome grinned at the baby. "And pay honor to his mother's spirit with his lyrics."

"Keh," Inuyasha said in a disgusted tone. "Let him get bigger before you plan his life for him."

Sango's smile was evident in her voice. "That might be nice."

Shippou shouted in disgust. Turning to look at the kitsune and human girl, it was clear that Rin had won another game. Leaving Shippou to gather up his stones, the girl pattered up to the porch. Her eyes turned to the baby in Kagome's arms, her smile engaging. "May I hold Tenichi-chan, please--please please please!"

Shippou grumbled, not so loud that Sango or Rin could hear, but unmistakable to Inuyasha and Kagome. "Boring baby."

"If Kagome-chan doesn't mind," Sango said to Rin, biting off another length of thread with a quick jerk, "by all means. I'll have to feed him in a while, then burp him afterwards. Maybe you'd like to help me with that?"

Kagome shot her a look of wicked appreciation, trying to control her embarrassment when Inuyasha let out a suspicious-sounding snicker; Sango hadn't meant anything by her comment, but only a few nights ago Inuyasha had been needling Kagome about her protectiveness towards the baby. "Just like some family dog who gets nervous every time someone tries to touch 'her' children," he'd said. "Good plan," Kagome said to Sango, proud of the way she'd kept her voice from wavering at the memory; or at least that the roughness of her voice had disguised the waver. She carefully kept from looking at Inuyasha.

He straightened so that his chin no longer pressed on Kagome's shoulder. "Oi, Shippou, he reminds me of you," Inuyasha remarked.

"What?" the kitsune shrieked, dropping his stones and turning to glare at Inuyasha, his tail twitching in visible irritation.

"Hai," Rin said, then grinned broadly as she carefully cradled the baby that Kagome passed to her. A few more years and she'd be old enough to have babies of her own, by the standards of the era. I wonder what Sesshomaru will do then, Kagome wondered. "Thank you, Kagome-neesama," the young girl said in delight, gently rocking Tenichi in her arms as she sat down.

Kagome stretched out, bracing her arms on the porch as she straightened and tensed the muscles of each leg to work away the stiffness of having sat so long as well as the morning's training. It had mostly been running--or, as he said she liked it so much, being chased; Inuyasha wanted her to be able to run without getting winded as quickly as she did. And to think that three years of tracking down Naraku still didn't leave me in great shape! She eyed her feet in satisfaction: they were still clean. Neither Sango nor Miroku nor Kohaku had ever commented, but Kagome felt keenly the inappropriateness of going barefoot outside and then coming into the house, so she kept a pan with some water and a cloth near the porch for her to use. Inuyasha never noticed, or cared, whether his feet were dirty or not when he came inside; but Kagome had yet to come around to his way of thinking. On this topic, she didn't really want to, either.

"Yeah, he's a runt like you," Inuyasha declared. Uncrossing his legs, he draped them over the edge of the porch as Kagome had, though his greater height meant that his feet actually touched the ground rather than dangling as hers did. Likewise, he leaned back, though bracing himself on his elbows instead.

Leaving his stones behind, Shippou launched himself across the grass towards Inuyasha. "Take that back!" he demanded, flashing into a pink bubble midway to the porch.

"Keh! You can't take back the truth," Inuyasha said, eyelids lowered as he looked to one side.

Ruefully, Kagome patted her lap in invitation to the kitsune before he could begin gnawing on Inuyasha's head. "Why don't you sit with me for a bit, Shippou-kun?" Still looking somewhat grumpy, Shippou dropped onto the porch into his true form, climbed onto her legs and sat, folding his arms. She bent down, arms circling him as she said to him quietly, "I'll play a game with you later, if you like."

"No you won't," Shippou contradicted her, "you'll be doing something gross with Inuyasha later, I bet."

Kagome's reply was forestalled by a gasp of surprise from Rin and Inuyasha's growled, "Fuck." Kagome turned from Shippou to see Rin shove Tenichi willy-nilly at his mother, leaping off the porch to run towards a tall, slender form that had just stepped out of the forest, the crows rising to the air in a dark eddy of agitated cawing. "Sesshomaru-sama!"

"Fuck," Inuyasha repeated in a sour tone. He shifted for a second as if he were going to stand, then crossed his arms and legs, shoving his hands up his sleeves. "Keh."

"Inuyasha-sama, did I not say last night that I had seen your brother heading in this direction?" came the cracked voice of Myouga, springing from a fold of the red haori onto Inuyasha's shoulder.

Kagome ran a hand over Shippou's hair in a gesture more soothing to her than him as she gave Inuyasha a concerned glance.

"Inuyasha?" Sango said, standing up carefully with the baby in her arms.

No sooner had the crows settled than they rose again, angrier than before. Kagome looked at them, ears turning back in uncertainty. Sesshomaru had moved away from the forest, followed by his small green toady and the lumbering two-headed beast; they couldn't be upset by him still.

"I'm not going over there--shit!" Inuyasha stood, hands fisting furiously as another figure made its way out of the forest in a cloud of dust kicked up from running.

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AN: Again, most appreciative thanks to Miriam for timely criticisms and questions!

Thank you to everyone for your reviews, too. They've been great in terms of giving me ideas about what folks are interested in, what I'm conveying clearly, and what I've needed to work on further. And they're great motivators--reading them has made me so delighted that I have, almost every time, sat down to write a bit more immediately. So thank you for taking the time to comment!