Matsuri

Chapter Two: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Well, hey, looks like I got some reviews after all! -- Thank you all, particularly Aino-kaasan for that HUUUGE review! I thought I’d reply to the schtuffs you told me here, since this chapter will be out soon enough…I did know there were some Buddhist sects that didn’t require celibacy (I thought it was actually kind of funny how there was the Pure Land and True Pure Land sects, too—does the presence of the True Pure Land group mean that the Pure Land group is false? I wonder if they argue over that, too—”WE’RE THE REAL PURE LAND BUDDHISTS!” “NO, WE ARE!”) But, hey, I figure, how’s Sango to know that? :gets idea: Oh, this could be very interesting when Sango realizes he doesn’t have to be a celibate…hmm….

And basically, when Kagome was talking about putting an arrow in either Inu-Yasha or Kôga, when she said “… although I can insure it’d be very painful…” she was talking about putting some ki into it, although she really had no intention of shooting either of them (although they don’t know that.) Don’t worry, she gets to open some whoop-ass on demons later. --

Oh yes, and though I didn’t really set a time for this to be taking place, I suppose it’s just in a bit of a lull after the Shichinin-tai were all defeated and Naraku has, once again, escaped in his cloud of miasma. (go figure) So it’s somewhere after the twenty-eighth book. :sigh: I can’t wait to get my claws on the mangas… While I do read Chris Rijk’s summaries on Sengoku o Togi Zoushi with a borderline religious obsession, it’s just not the same…And I will work on Kôga’s character. He did sound a little too…well, educated, didn’t he?

But thank you for your review! I always can use valuable information like that; and YOU LIVE IN FINLAND?! :stunned: Wow…I mean, I’m part Swedish, but—FINLAND?! WOWWWWWWWW!! THAT’S SO COOL!! And you can speak English REALLY REALLY WELL…:sigh: :jealous: If I could speak Japanese as well as you speak English…well, I’d be one happy girl…

So that’s the news from Lake Woebegone. Now, on with the show! :evil cackle: Ooohhh, this is going to be fun!

Disclaimer: Do you really think I own this? Do you? …You want the truth? YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH! Every day, I sit at my computer (not really; actually I just spent the past two days working on a watercolor piccy of Kagome, Inu-Yasha, and Kikyô) and type up these damn stories for lack of something better to do (now that’s just pathetic, and I actually do it for fun too) and I type ten inches away from a computer that will send that information. You WANT me at that desk. You NEED me at that desk!

…

I don’t own this.

Lalalalalalaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Kagome said thoughtfully.

Inu-Yasha, now very squashed, glared up at her. “What the hell tipped you off? Ow!”

“Oops,” Sango said innocently. She’d ‘accidentally’ elbowed him right between the ears.

Miroku made another, unsuccessful attempt to get out of the well, and the wood creaked dangerously. “Careful!” Kagome cried, panicking. “I don’t want to be stuck here!”

“Well, neither do I,” he retorted. “I never thought this was a good idea.”

Sango froze, then promptly whacked Miroku over the head with Hiraikotsu. “YOU ARE A FREAK! A NASTY, INHUMAN FREAK! DO NOT TOUCH MY ASS!”

“Miroku…” Kagome sighed wearily. “That was low, even for you.”

He made an attempt at a bow. “I like challenging my own records, thank you.”

“Keep BOTH hands where I can see them,” she snapped. “Um…” How were they going to do this? The last thing she needed was to break the well and get stuck here forever… “Sango, you get out first.”

“Why her?” Inu-Yasha demanded.

“Because unless there’s something he’s not telling us, Miroku won’t try to grope you,” Sango replied, cautiously levering herself out of the well. It shook dangerously but held. Unfortunately (more or less) the movement caused Inu-Yasha and Miroku to lose their grips, and they dropped. Silence from below proved their little experiment had worked; Kagome could only hope her mother was in a good mood. “Looks like we’d better hop in.” She swung a leg over the side, then clung to the one good side and waited for Sango to drop all the way down and land on the compacted earth below. “When I pass you, I’ll grab your hand, okay?”

“WAIT FOR ME!” Shippô scrambled over and clung to Kagome’s back. “You almost left me behind!”

“I was…just testing you,” she lied nervously. “Okay, here goes.”

“What a trip…” Miroku rubbed his head dazedly. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a claustrophobic.”

Inu-Yasha was already standing, though he hadn’t climbed out yet. “They should be coming any minute now, so let’s get—”

Whumpf.

“…ow…”

“Well, that was interesting,” Sango said a bit breathlessly. “Is it just me, Kagome, or is the ground a little lumpy?”

“I don’t know, it’s too dark for me to see anything. It does feel different, though.” I’ll have to remember to bring some Christmas lights down here, she thought to herself.

“Phantom Fire!” Heatless flames flickered around Shippô, and the flattened forms of Miroku and Inu-Yasha came into view. Miroku, pinned underneath Sango, was turning blue, while Inu-Yasha was glaring grumpily at Kagome. “Hi there.”

“Oops.” She grinned sheepishly and swiftly got to her feet. “I thought it was a little too quiet.”

Sango, who at first seemed quite content to just sit and slowly suffocate Miroku, jumped to her feet and kicked him when his hand started sneaking towards her rear. “You pervert!”

“I do my best,” he mumbled, half-unconscious.

Inu-Yasha hauled him to his feet and glanced pointedly at Kagome. “What are you waiting for? The less people in this well, the better.”

“You go first!” she insisted, blushing.

“Why?”

“Because she’s wearing a skirt, fool.” Sango had a smug, tiny smile on her face.

“Hey, Kagome’s back!” Sôta peered down the well, smiling. “Whoa…who’re you people? Hi, Inu-Yasha!”

“Sôta, can you get us a rope or something?” Kagome asked.

A blur of red passed them; Inu-Yasha now stood at the mouth of the well, looking condescendingly down on them. “Need help?”

Sango tensed, then jumped up right beside him. “No, not really.”

“Show-off,” Miroku muttered. Picking up his staff, he jammed it into the side of the well and swung himself up.

“Okay, consider me impressed and all,” Kagome said dryly, “and maybe someday you all can go work for Cirque du Soleil, but in case you forgot, I’m still down here and I need a lift.”

“What’s Cirque du Soleil?” Shippô asked. He’d caught a ride on Inu-Yasha.

Miroku shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Maybe he’s an overlord,” Sango suggested.

“I’m still down here, guys!”

“Oh yeah.”

“But why would he need workers?”

“Maybe his land had a flood or something.”

“Maybe he needs warriors.”

“HEY!”

“I wonder who he’s fighting against.”

“But really, shouldn’t he just stick to his own forces?”

Ready to snap, Kagome closed her eyes and counted to ten. Sôta, thoroughly immersed in the strange conversation between the strange people, had completely forgotten about his sister’s request for rope—in fact, he’d completely forgotten about his sister in general. Pulling an arrow out of her backpack and stringing her bow, she fished out a hank of rope from her pack. She had known it would be useless from down there, because there was nothing to secure it to, but this just might work. The knot around the arrow’s shaft was firm, her target in plain sight; at the moment, however, Kagome was reflecting on the fact that it might have been better just to take Inu-Yasha rather than the whole motley crew.

The arrow flew true, biting deep into the wooden rafter, rope trailing from it. Heaving her pack over the side of the well, Kagome climbed out after it, glaring at her companions. “In case you didn’t notice, I was still down there.”

Miroku frowned. “Why?”

“Why?!”

“Yeah, why were you still down there? It doesn’t seem all that comfortable to me.”

“Why.” The others were taken aback by the vein pulsing in her forehead. “I’ll tell you why. BECAUSE I’M NOT A DEMON, NOT A TRAINED WARRIOR, AND I HAVE NO SPIFFY LITTLE STAFF, THAT’S WHY! NOBODY PULLED ME OUT!”

“Oh.”

“Oh, Kagome, honey, you’re back! Welcome home, sweetie—” Kagome’s mother came in, stopped at the sight of the girl with a giant boomerang, an old-fashioned Buddhist monk, and a tiny boy with fox legs and a tail that was bigger than he was.

Immediately, Miroku set down his staff and seized her hands. “I know we’ve only known each other for a short time, but I feel as if I already know you,” he said gallantly. “Will you bear my child?”

Kagome nearly gagged. “MIROKU, that’s my MOM!”

Her mother smiled brightly. “Oh, I get it.” She dropped one of Miroku’s hands and shook the other one. “A comedian, aren’t you—Miroku, was it?”

“Um…yeah.” He looked utterly bewildered by her response.

“Mama, this is Sango and Shippô,” Kagome cut in before he could say anything else.

“Oh, I’ve heard all about you. Come in, come in—any friends of Kagome are friends of mine.” She led the rabble away, while Kagome collapsed in a corner, already worn out. It was going to be a long, long night…

This was too much. She couldn’t go through with this, she just couldn’t.

But really, you’ve all but completely ignored your old friends for almost a year now, and this is just cruel.

Of course, if Grandpa hadn’t told her I’d come, I wouldn’t be in this situation. But that can’t be helped.

But an ice-skating party?

This was not going to be pretty.

“Oh, yes. Michiko said to bring a guest.” Grandpa looked a bit sheepish. “It’s at six thirty, down at the mall, so you’ve got three hours.”

Kagome sat down hard in a chair. “I hate my life,” she muttered into her hands.

“What?”

“Um—looks like I’ll be up late tonight. I’ll be in my room, okay?”

“Fine.” Grandpa paused, then clasped her shoulder. “It’s good to have you home, Kagome.”

“Thank you, Grandpa.” She smiled at him. “It’s good to be back.”

She muttered to herself as she trudged up the stairs. “I’ll need clothes for everyone, and where are we gonna get ones that fit Inu-Yasha? Sango’ll fit in my size, and Sôta and Shippô are…close enough to the same size, I guess, but Inu-Yasha and Miroku…” She closed the door behind her and flopped face-up onto her bed. “At least school’s out for the month.”

The phone rang, and she answered it. “Hello, Higurashi residence.”

“Kagome?!” That could only be Michiko, her short-haired friend. “You’re back from the hospital? We heard you had to have open-heart surgery!”

Grandpa… “Well, it…um…went fine, and I’m back now. I...er…have to go in for another operation tomorrow, though.” This would hopefully explain a four-month absence…

“Oh. Well, you can still come to the party tonight, right?”

“Of course!”

“Great! And you don’t need to bring a present, just a guest.”

Who was she bringing? Shippô’s tail couldn’t really be disguised, Sango and Miroku were going to help her mother buy provisions since they knew the most about traveling, and there was no way she’d bring Sôta…

“Umm…” She didn’t think she’d be able to bring him; goodness knew how he’d react to Hôjô, and that wasn’t the least of her problems…

“It better not be that guy you’re seeing.” She could almost taste the disapproval in Michiko’s voice. “I think he sounds like a wild animal, even if you like him.”

“He’s not like that at all!” she protested, blushing. “You just have to get to know him. And I’m not seeing him.”

Inu-Yasha, who had gone unnoticed from his perch outside Kagome’s window on a tree branch, scowled fiercely. Who was this ‘him’ and why the hell was she blushing? Part of him piped up, asking why it was okay for him to go see Kikyô but not okay for her to like someone else, but he stuffed that thought in a corner of his mind and continued to sulk.

“Is there anyone in particular?” A pause. “Well…okay…Are you sure I can’t come alone, then?” Kagome winced at the response, then said, “No, Michiko, I don’t want to throw off the boy-girl ratio…Okay. Um…uh huh. Right. I’ll see you then. Can’t wait for the party. Bye.” She hung up the phone, appearing deep in thought, and his curiosity was sprung. Party? What was a party?

Kagome stood and turned to find Inu-Yasha behind her. “What’s a party?” he asked, ears pricked up. She jumped, then closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Well, what is it?” he demanded again.

Why do bad things happen to good people? Kagome wondered sadly. “It’s a—a celebration,” she explained wearily, straightening and taking in his cloudy expression. Never mind the fact that he was a half-demon; her friends would go into cardiac arrest if they heard she was in love with someone who had longer hair than her. Why couldn’t she bring a boy? Of all the ridiculous things, Michiko had to have the amount of boys perfectly matched to the amount of girls, and so she was supposed to bring a girl...even without that rule, she wouldn’t have taken Inu-Yasha; Miroku had better…well, people skills. But Miroku wasn’t a girl, and neither was Inu-Yasha, and so either way she was screwed.

Narrowing her eyes, she realized within moments that maybe, just maybe, with an idea that crazy….just maybe she wasn’t screwed…

This was going to take every bit of strategy and sneakiness she had in her.

“A celebration of what?” he asked, arms folded.

Here we go. “In this case, it’s a celebration of my friend’s birthday. She’s turning sixteen, and she invites some of her friends to a celebration.” Think, Kagome—he’ll only do it if there’s really something in it for him and if he thinks he’s getting the best of the deal. “There’s usually a lot of really good food—”

“Ramen?” he interrupted, now interested.

“Maybe.” She dropped the word casually, her tone ever-so-slightly indicating that there just might be ramen there, even if there wasn’t going to be. “But usually they have even better food than that.” Now, a dramatic pause. “I’ll just have to tell you about it when I get back.” Going over to her closet, she opened it and pretended to be deep in thought, muttering, “Now what am I going to wear?” Turning, she saw Inu-Yasha watching her. “What is it?” she sighed impatiently, while her mind was laughing gleefully at how her scheme was going off without a hitch. “I have a party to get ready for, so make it snappy.”

“I’m going with you,” he announced.

“I’m sorry, Inu-Yasha, but Michiko told me I had to bring a girl or no one at all, and since Sango is busy, I’ll have to go by myself.” She shrugged. “Maybe I can bring you back a piece of cake.”

“Cake? What the hell is that?”

“Oh, it’s like really light, sweet bread,” she said innocently. “And it’s got…well, I can’t really describe it, especially if it’s chocolate.” She returned her gaze to the closet. “Now, if that’s everything, I have to get ready.”

“I want to come.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

“Dammit, bitch, I’m coming with you!”

She glanced pointedly at the necklace of prayer beads. “Do you want me to use the s-word on you until Miroku can seal you into a shed? I told you—you’re a boy, so I can’t take you! And how do you suppose we explain your ears?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You know tonight’s the new moon.”

Was he starting to catch on? Better to aggravate him a bit more so he’d forget about that; he was almost exactly where she wanted him. “Even then, it’s not like I can take you! For god’s sake, I’ve told you why, now let me get ready!”

“Screw what your friend thinks, I’m coming with you!”

“You can’t! Don’t make me use the s-word on you!” She paused, watching him out of the corner of her eye, and waited until he didn’t respond and was staring angrily at the ground in the ‘I know I’ve lost this one but dammit, you’re gonna pay’ way. “…Although, maybe…” Donning a thoughtful expression, she studied the ceiling.

“Maybe what?” When she didn’t reply, he repeated, “Maybe what?”

“You can come,” she said slowly, her tone grudging, “but on one condition…”

“NOOOO!”

Kagome glanced up from her tea, wondering exactly what was going on behind the door. Inu-Yasha had reluctantly agreed to the plan with the promise of attending the party and an eternity of ramen, but then, he hadn’t exactly known what all it entailed. After all, it was going to be a bit difficult for people such as him to adjust to something like this…

Her eyes flicked over to the window nearby, gazing serenely at the magnificent sunset. Three…two…one.

“WHOA!” That could only be Sôta, who had joined the crew behind the door. Her mother, hearing the plot, had promptly dragged Inu-Yasha into that room, along with Sôta “so he could help” and had locked door. “How did you DO that?”

“Well, I must say that black hair does suit your coloring…”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

At least he knew what ice skating was, he just hadn’t known what she was talking about. According to him, he was able to skate, but he hadn’t said much else.

“How goes the project?” Miroku asked from behind Kagome’s chair.

She shrugged. “Beats me.” A tiny smile flickered on her lips. “I think it’s going well, though.” She’d already changed into a knee-length black skirt and a boat-necked blue-gray top, knit loosely enough that there were gaps between the threads and the navy blue top was visible underneath.

The sound of running water caused them to raise their eyebrows, as did the series of “OW!”s and colorful curses. Kagome’s mother let herself out and, seeing them, smiled calmly. “He’s shaving.”

“How is it going?” Sango asked; she’d joined the audience waiting outside the door.

“Well enough.” A painful-sounding thud made her blink; she laughed softly and said, “Looks like I’d better get back. Not too much longer; he should be ready in fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Right on schedule,” Kagome remarked, looking down at her wristwatch.

Meanwhile, within the room of horrors, Inu-Yasha was very close to losing it, and feeling very, very amazed that Kagome had managed to survive this long in a time that could only be classified as ‘hell.’ “No more! NO MORE!”

“Well, come out of the bathroom and we’ll be the judge of that,” Mrs. Higurashi said in her unshakably calm voice.

This was absolutely humiliating. It was only the promise of that divine food, ramen, that kept him from tearing this—this costume off and throwing himself back down the well. He didn’t even look all that convincing, just ridiculous, and he shuddered to think of what was going to happen next.

Inu-Yasha, slayer of demons, looking like this. The bedamned gods had a strange sense of humor.

“Inu-Yasha, come out. We’ve still got work to do.”

Ramen, he reminded himself. Ramen. He slowly opened the door.

“Oh, it’s perfect.” Mrs. Higurashi looked delighted. “There’s just something…off-kilter…” Sôta tugged on her sleeve and when she bent her head, whispered something in her ear. Enlightenment struck, and she nodded. “I’m surprised I didn’t think of that myself.”

Five minutes later, the strangest sounds were still emanating from the room.

“I WON’T!” Then, after ten seconds, “NO!!”

“Now, Inu-Yasha, it’s not like it’s permanent.”

“Wow!”

“What IS this shit?!”

Thirty seconds later

“ARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

And then, after an eternity of waiting, the door opened.

“I’m not going out there!”

“Oh yes you are,” Mrs. Higurashi said determinedly. “I didn’t spend all this time and energy on this just to have you chicken out. And think of the ramen!”

A sulky figure slowly trudged into sight, glaring a glare that could freeze lava, and then Miroku and Sango lost control and fell to the ground, rolling on the floor with laughter. Kagome was having a hard time keeping her laughter in check also, but it didn’t keep her from dropping the table on them to halt the laughter for a moment at least.

A black-haired girl stood in the doorway, her hair in a neat braid, two navy eyes narrowed in fury, her lips lightly tinted with gloss, lavender eyeliner accenting what passed for long lashes but were actually fake. A dark blue v-neck sweater was over a white shirt underneath; a khaki skirt came down to her knees, her feet shod in white socks and loafers.

“You owe me a lot of ramen,” the girl, who as barely recognizable as Inu-Yasha, said darkly.

Miroku got to his feet, wheezing, and staggered over to Inu-Yasha, staring at his now-increased chest. Thoughtful, he pointed a finger at him. “Are they real?”

Crimson, Inu-Yasha yelled, “OF COURSE NOT!”

Looking like he doubted Inu-Yasha’s words, Miroku poked one and earned a punch in the face. “Don’t TOUCH me!”

“They’re actually socks,” Sôta commented.

“You look nice,” Kagome said tactfully.

Miroku, who was now half-conscious and with impaired vision, muttered, “Will you bear my child?”  The next thing he saw was the bottom of a loafer as it ground into his face.

“Um, it’s, ah, time to go.” Kagome glanced at her watch. “And quit laughing, Miroku, because you sure as heck aren’t going to the store dressed like that.”

“WHAT?!”

Inu-Yasha ‘accidentally’ kicked Miroku on his way past, then followed Kagome, still seething. How could she stand this? Compared to his kimono, this outfit was a damn torture device, and he didn’t even want to start on the makeup… And she had gone through this on a daily basis every day of her life.

He now had an infinitely greater amount of respect for Kagome.

Kagome was still having trouble containing her mirth, though she did for Inu-Yasha’s sake. After all, he was doing this to help her…she could only hope he wouldn’t do anything too outrageous. “We’re going to have to work on your voice,” she said tonelessly. “Not many teenage girls have one that deep.”

“Not many teenage girls have socks for—”

“Anyway, you’ll just have to do a falsetto.” Kagome was glad  she’d cut him off before her mother could hear the end of what he was about to say; at the moment, Mrs. Higurashi thought Inu-Yasha was a big cuddly puppy despite what she’d seen of him so far, and she’d be rather shocked if she heard him in a truly bad mood. “Just…make your voice really high and squeaky.”

He grumbled something, then stopped at the sight of the car. “What is this thing?”

“It’s a karuma,” she said patiently. AN: That’s the Japanese word for car; I wanted this to be at least a tiny bit authentic. “Ka-ru-ma.”

“Huh.”

She opened the door, and his eyes widened. “How did you do that?!” he demanded. “You’re too weak to peel off metal like that!”

“It’s a door.” She swung it back and forth. “It’s on hinges. Get in.”

“Think of it as a metal carriage that doesn’t need horses,” Mrs. Higurashi said helpfully, her smile full of good humor.

“Hmph.” Inu-Yasha nervously got in, staring warily around as if he thought the Honda CR-V would eat him alive. He jumped when Kagome closed the door, eyes narrowed in unease. She hopped in on the other side and pulled down the seat belt. “What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously.

“Putting on my seatbelt.” When he just looked confused, she sighed and pointed to the strap behind his shoulder as her mother started the car. “Grab that and pull down and left.”

He obeyed, his cloudy expression changing to one of amazement when more and more strap kept coming as he pulled. “How does this work?” he asked, bewildered. “No spell can do this!”

“It’s no magic.” This was going to be a very long night… “The strap is wound around a rod inside the compartment it’s coming out of. Just take the metal part and put in here.” She held up her own buckle and demonstrated, made sure he’d done it right, and leaned back, closing her eyes. “Alright, let’s hear your girl voice.”

“What?!”

“I told you, your voice is too low.”

Ramen. Ramen. Ramen. Coughing, he cleared his throat and asked in an ear-shatteringly squeaky and high voice, “Is this good?”

She shook her head, wincing. “Too high. You sound like Minnie Mouse.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. Just lower it a notch.”

“A what?”

“Lower it a little,” she said, rubbing her forehead.

“Is this good?”

“Higher.”

“Now?”

“Lower.”

“Now?”
“Higher.”

“Now?”

“Higher.”

“Now?”

“Lower.”

“Now?!”

“Higher.”

“NOW?!”

She paused, thought for a moment, and said, “Yeah, that’ll work.”

“Good,” he muttered in his own voice, lavender-rimmed eyes narrowed in irritation. Ramen. Ramen.

And then he looked out the window.

“HOLY KU—damono,” he finished weakly, seeing Kagome’s warning look. AN: Inu-Yasha started to say ‘kuso’, which, in case you don’t know, is Japanese for ‘shit!’ ;;; Bad doggy. ‘Kudamono’ means ‘fruit.’ Holy fruit!  “Does this thing always go so da—darn fast?!”

“We’re only going thirty-five miles per hour,” she replied innocently.

“Thirty-five miles in a single hour?” His eyes were huge. “That’s impossible!”

“This hootenanny’s at the mall, right?” Mrs. Higurashi asked, eyes on the road.

“Mall? What’s a mall?”

“Yes, it’s at the mall.” She turned to Inu-Yasha. “It’s an indoor market.”

He shook his head in wonder and continued watching the scenery speed by. “Where are the youkai?”

“There’s none left that we know of,” she said thoughtfully. “That reminds me…Um, Inu-Yasha, if you want to ask me what something is at the party, don’t do it in front of the others. If I told them you came from five hundred years ago in my well and that you’re normally a half-dog-demon-boy except on nights of the new moon, they’d…well, think I’m crazy. There are no demons here, no time-traveling, very few hermits, no magic, and not that many priests or priestesses.”

“Sounds boring.” He reached up to scratch an ear, remembered it wasn’t on the top of his head anymore, and resignedly dropped his hand back to his lap.

“That’s what tests are for,” Kagome said simply as her mother laughed at Inu-Yasha’s comment. “Looks like we’re here.”

“I’ll be back for you at ten,” Mrs. Higurashi called as they rather ungraciously clambered out of the car. “Have fun, you two!”

“We will.” Kagome waved, then slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Just follow me.”

The doors slid open and she led the way, weaving through the crowds down to the ice rink. “Don’t look so overwhelmed,” she muttered to the openly staring Inu-Yasha. “You can be overwhelmed, but just don’t look like it.”

He nodded, mesmerized by the Mister Donut neon sign.

“Kagome!” Hiroko, her headbanded friend, rushed over, smiling ear-to-ear. “We heard you had the Bubonic Plague!” Inu-Yasha opened his mouth to ask what that was, caught himself, and swallowed the question for the moment. “Who’s your guest?”

Kagome mentally blanched and kicked herself. She hadn’t thought of a name or a story! Good thing she’d gotten better at improvising… “This is…my—my friend Fujimori Mayumi,” she started. “She’s a junior from…Omiya.”

“Nice to meet you, Mayumi. I’m Hitedaka Hiroko.” She briskly shook Inu-Yasha’s hand. “I’ve got a cousin in Omiya—do you know Yamakawa Keiichi?”

Please let him use the high voice, please let him use the high voice…

And please let him be nice for once…

“No. I don’t.” was the slightly-forced but yet polite response. Kagome flinched slightly at the brusque tone but was relieved that he’d toned it down at least a bit.

“Well, we’d better get inside,” Hiroko said brightly, oblivious to the small miracle that had just occurred. “Guess who Chie brought? Hôjô!”

“She brought Hôjô?!” Kagome asked numbly, seeing her near-perfect evening go down the toilet. Oh NO…Well, if I just avoid him in general and stay too busy talking to everybody else, he can’t try anything and Inu-Yasha won’t get mad…I hope…

“Come on, you guys!”

Things were going to get very interesting, very fast.

“Kagome!”

“She’s back!”

“Michiko, Kagome’s here!”

The other guests crowded around her and the surprised Inu-Yasha, who hadn’t expected Kagome to be this popular. So many people were trying to talk to her at once that she couldn’t understand a word until Michiko pushed her way to the front. “Come on. You have to get onto the ice now.”

“Whoa, what’s the rush?” she laughed. “I haven’t skated for at least a year.”

“He is a great skater,” she hissed. “There is no way you are missing out on this. Hi.” She all but barked the greeting at Mayumi/Inu-Yasha, who was rather dazed by the lightning pace at which everything in this time seemed to be conducted, and started to drag Kagome away, the people parting in front of her like the parting of the Red Sea before Moses. “The most eligible guy in the whole damn school is interested in you, Kagome, and as your friend I think it’s time for a little tough love. A size nine,” she snapped to the person at the skate rental counter, who promptly scurried away, thinking herself lucky to have escaped with her life.

“And a size ten,” Kagome called after her for Inu-Yasha, her face crimson. Of the top ten things she least wanted discussed in front of him, her love life wasn’t number one but it was pretty darn close. “And I told you, I don’t like Hôjô that way.”

“He’s gorgeous, a brilliant student, class president, captain of practically every competing team we have, got the best scores on the exams, is lusted after by every other girl in the school, sweet, kind, obviously cares about you, is wide open, and completely perfect for you in every way,” Michiko rattled off irately. “And you don’t want him. Don’t you think you might be setting your standards just a little high?”

Kagome took both pairs of skates from the cowering attendant, handed the larger set to Inu-Yasha, and walked over to a bench, plunking down on it. “He’s not what I want, okay?” Her tone contained the slightest hint of ‘Drop it NOW.’

Michiko shook her head but chose not to comment further—on the subject of Hôjô, at least. Instead, she chattered on and on about what had happened in the past month, who had broken up with whom, who had back-stabbed whom, and who had started dating whom. It was amazing how faraway it all seemed, how petty and superficial when it had once fascinated her.

Knotting her laces tightly, she stood. Inu-Yasha had surprisingly already finished, but she didn’t want to ask how he knew how to lace up ice skates in front of Michiko. Moreover, he could walk on them without breaking his ankle—or wobbling all that much, for that matter. He’d said he knew how to skate, but she hadn’t expected him to be all that good. Would he never stop throwing her off?

Brushing that thought aside, she hobbled over to the gate and tentatively set one foot on the ice.

Thunk.

“Ow…”

“Need a hand?” Inu-Yasha’s voice was every bit as smug as his face as he smirked down on her, arms crossed.

Glaring up at him, she unsteadily got to her feet and shakily pushed off. “No.” She just needed to remember how to do this, and then…Her feet started to remember those lessons she’d had, and she steadied, though still clinging to the side.

“Having fun?” Inu-Yasha passed her, skating backwards with ease and grinning an uncharacteristically catlike grin.

Just you wait, she vowed silently, muttering darkly, “I hope you fall.”

“I don’t fall. Ever.” He glided away.

Slowly, her old skill began to return, but before she had gathered enough courage to release the wall from her deathgrip, Hôjô came up beside her. “Hey, Kagome!”

“Hi, Hôjô.” She smiled—he was her friend, even if she wanted them to just stay as friends.

And, she realized, this could be a good chance for a bit of revenge…

“Need some help?” he asked hopefully.

“Would you?” she said, her voice dripping in relief. “It’s just been so long since I last skated, and I think if I just get used to it again, I’ll be fine.”

Shippô stared mournfully at his tail, trying not to think of how mutilated it was. When Mrs. Higurashi had decided that Sôta and Grandpa were not exactly the kind of people cut out to watch a young fox-demon, she said he could come with them, but they were going to have to disguise his tail. Within an astonishingly short amount of time, she’d dismembered an old teddy bear, and now…

The bear’s eyes gazed unblinkingly back at him from where the head was secured to the end of his tail. Two arms and two legs were also attached via string, and she’d pronounced it a convincing stuffed animal. He’d just have to hold onto it.

A pair of pants covered his fox-legs, and his ears weren’t that noticeable, as was his hair. Some of Sôta’s old clothes, and he looked relatively like a young child for this time; such was the hope.

Miroku and Sango had had a much more difficult time. After a few seconds, he had emerged from a room looking thoroughly hopeless and entangled in the garments he’d been handed, and it had taken them fifteen minutes to fully clothe the man. Sango had been better, but not by much.

And then there was the car ride.

It hadn’t helped things when Mrs. Higurashi had pulled up in the car, Miroku had come to the conclusion that it was a demon and started to uncover the Air Rip. Of course, the strange construction did look like a monster, but still—at least it hadn’t gotten far by the time Kagome’s mother convinced him it wasn’t eating her and he recovered the hell hole.

Getting them to agree to ride in that monstrosity was another matter altogether. Neither hell nor high water would make Sango sit within such close proximity of Miroku as the back seat unless his hands were tied together and lashed to the seat in front of him, which was reasonable enough but unnecessary when she chose to ride in the front seat instead. Then there was the debate between Grandpa and Mrs. Higurashi over the fact that Shippô was small enough to ride in a car seat but that due to his minimal but still existent youkai powers he was less destructible than an armored car; he could be hurt, but he wouldn’t die. However, Shippô himself settled the matter by proving that, if they were pulled over by the police for whatever reason, he could easily fit in the storage compartment beneath the seat. Thus, he was seated across from Miroku in the back seat, and the trip to purchase supplies began.

The ride was fairly uneventful once Miroku, Sango, and Shippô got over the shock of moving at the dizzying speed of twenty-five miles per hour and stopped screaming. Fortunately, Mrs. Higurashi, who’d had to put up with driving all sorts of strange types, was well-prepared; she had the earplugs in within seconds and was explaining levelly once she could be heard over the racket. The highlight of the trip was when she turned on the radio and Miroku, convinced there was a demon making the noise, attempted to exorcise it. It took some more explanations from Mrs. Higurashi, and by the time she’d gone through the theories of sound waves and transmitting them, they were all so confused that the incident was forgotten.

“Here we are,” she finally announced, pulling into a strange-looking black field with other metallic monstrosities sitting perfectly still in rows and rows, some appearing to be staring at the other.

Sango’s eyes quickly roved the field and she tensed, wishing she’d brought Hiraikotsu with her. These carriage-beasts were lined in ranks, clearly lying in wait for them—how could Kagome’s mother be so calm? The battle before them would be far more difficult that anything they were prepared for, especially without Inu-Yasha and considering the speed at which these beasts could move. Miroku could take enough out with his Air Rip, but that would only go so far, and they’d have to watch out for Shippô. Her mind raced, trying to think of what weapons they had; it seemed hopeless with their only ally being the beast Mrs. Higurashi appeared to have tamed.

Surprisingly, the monsters didn’t move, only stayed motionless as they rolled forward between ranks of them. There were an infinite amount of variations, the shape and color never the same. Was this some kind of trap? Would they make it from this black field alive?

A gap between beasts loomed ahead, and Mrs. Higurashi placidly maneuvered their beast into it, then somehow left. A moment later, she realized her companions were still in the car, and it took her five minutes to convince them that they wouldn’t be attacked when they got out and another thirty seconds to show them how to use the door handle. It was a tense walk to the strange building ahead; all of the gang from the Muromachi period were amazed by the way the glass wall parted in the center to admit them.

And so Miroku, Sango, and Shippô’s shopping adventure began.

Across the ring, Inu-Yasha seethed, watching Kagome smile brightly and take the other guy’s hand. Though there were other boys at the rink anyway, he was the only male partygoer who could skate well. That cretin had to be Hôjô.

He clenched a fist, furious and completely oblivious to the fact that he was in a shady, uncrowded area of the rink and that several of the guys who weren’t from the party were approaching him, grinning coldly. Scowling, Inu-Yasha stormed through the nearby gate and dropped onto the bench in a dark corner.

“Hey, whatsa matter, babe?” He glanced up to find the boys had followed him and were starting to surround him. Suddenly nervous, he started to edge away. “Did you just get dumped?”

“You look lonely,” a second added. “How about we keep you company?”

“Piss off,” he snapped, automatically using the high voice.

“Oooh, de-nied,” another laughed, grabbing Inu-Yasha’s arm anyway. “Come on.”

“I said piss off, you filthy bastard.” To his surprise, the boy holding his arm was strong—stronger than he’d thought. It was time to get ugly; he kicked off his ice skates underneath the bench. “Let go now.”

He just laughed and started to pull what he thought was a defenseless girl towards him.

“You asked for it,” Inu-Yasha growled in his own voice. That alone made his attacker stop, flabbergasted. Not wasting any time, Inu-Yasha whirled, throwing the boy off balance and shaking off his grip at the same time. Ramming a fist into the boy’s stomach, he let him drop. His friends paused, and one tried to tackle him, but he was ready. Dropping onto his back, he kicked him over his head and swept the feet out from the last member of their group. Picking up his skates, he strode away; it wasn’t until he sat down at another bench and pulling his skates back on that he realized that if they were willing to try something like that on someone his size, they’d go after a girl like Kagome that much more willingly. While things like that happened occasionally in his time, it didn’t happen that openly and, he suspected, not that often. Perhaps there weren’t monsters in this time, but it unquestionably had demons of its own.

He got to his feet and returned to the ice, making a mental note to stay in open, well-lit, populated areas as long as he had to wear this getup. The level of respect he had for Kagome was shooting up by the second.

And then he saw her, happily skating hand-in-hand with that damn Hôjô.

How could she? He’d offered to help her—Not very nicely, that annoying voice in his head reminded him, but he ignored it once more—and she’d refused him; what the hell was she doing with this clown? Was she trying to tell him something?

Did she like that pathetic being?

Instantly, all thoughts of how she’d insisted to her friend that she didn’t like Hôjô fled from his mind, and it was all he could do to keep himself from skating over and strangling that—that—

“Time for cake!” Michiko called, standing by a gate.

“Cake?” he muttered to himself. “What the hell is cake?” Could it be some kind of game? Or maybe some ritual of celebration…

“Come on, Mayumi!” Hiroko swept by.

“Right, coming,” he grumbled. The skates thudded solidly against the rubber flooring, and he followed the others to a table where some sort of large, square food was—

On fire? That couldn’t be right. Squinting, he counted sixteen flames, puzzled, then realized they were candles in this strange food item.

“Wow, that cake’s huge,” one girl commented. “Gee, Michiko, think you’ve got enough for all of us?”

“Very funny,” she replied dryly. That food item had to be the cake, Inu-Yasha thought swiftly. It certainly smelled…different. It was something he’d smelled before, but he couldn’t quite place it…Someone started singing a song, and he mumbled along, thoroughly confused, but the overall air was one of carefree revelry, so he didn’t think anyone would notice. Then Michiko inhaled a huge breath, paused dramatically, and blew out the flames. People started crowding around the cake, and he backed up, not wanting to be trampled; not for the first time, he cursed the frail human body he was shackled to and rid himself of the skates while he waited.

“Here.” Kagome handed him a piece of the food and he frowned at it and the foreign utensil on the plate beside it. “What, you allergic to chocolate?” she asked, spearing a piece on her utensil.

He sniffed the cake and studied it, then attempted to use the utensil to no avail. “What is it?”

“Cake. Oh, that’s a fork. Um, like this.” She managed to pick up another piece on the prongs of the fork.

He found it wasn’t that hard; it was just different from chopsticks. Very different. Still, the reward was worth it.

It took him all of five seconds to change his mind. “I don’t want ramen anymore,” he announced, mouth full. “I want cake. Lots of cake.”

Kagome barely kept herself from rolling her eyes; instead, she just said, “We’ll see.”

“Hey!”

Inu-Yasha glanced up at the bruised men stomping towards him; it was the same three jackasses from before. You’d think they’d learned…

“It’s that damn bitch who beat us up,” snapped one of them.

“No shit, Sherlock.” The one who’d just had his feet swept out from under him stepped forward. “You’re going to pay for that.”

“You tried to rape me,” Inu-Yasha spat back, glad he’d lost the skates earlier. They would have only thrown him off balance. “I thought you’d get it through your thick skulls that I’m not interested, asshole.” Silence reigned over the formerly noisy party.

He, like his friend before him, grabbed Inu-Yasha’s arm. One of the girls started forward, but her friend stopped her, seeing the look on Inu-Yasha/Mayumi’s face.

His foot slammed into the young man’s stomach; he staggered back, a strange shade. How can girls stand to wear these damn skirts? he wondered crossly, blocking a wild punch with one arm and seizing the wrist of the other attacker with the other. Twisting, he sent the one whose arm he’d held onto flying into his friend, and they skidded across the rubber, drawing painful-sounding squeals from the floor.

“Who else wants a piece of me?” he demanded, not tired in the slightest. Fortunately for both him and Kagome, throughout the little skirmish, he hadn’t dropped into his normal voice once.

One of them was on his knees and glaring at the girl they’d tried to attack. “We’ll-we’ll get you for this-” he wheezed.

Inu-Yasha/Mayumi strode forward, seized him by the front of the shirt, and yanked him up until scant inches lay between their noses. “You’ve got it wrong,” he said coldly. “You’re lucky I’m letting you off this easy, you piece of filth. Next time you see a girl, maybe you’ll think twice before you try anything.” Dropping him with a thud, he turned on his heel and walked back to where he’d left his cake, picked up the plate, and complacently took a bite as the three guys made a hasty exit.

“You didn’t mention this,” Kagome said worriedly. “What happened?”

“You were busy with-oh, what’s his name again?” Inu-Yasha’s voice was dead cold as the talk started up again. “Hôjô?”

“That was incredible!” Michiko’s eyes were wide. “Do you take karate or what?”

“How did you do that?”

“How many years have you taken karate?”

“Are you a black belt?”

“I bet you are!”

“Who taught you?”

“Do you fight crime?”

Then someone wanted to know if she’d met Jackie Chan, and then they got into a debate over who would win in a fight—Inu-Yasha/Mayumi won, hands down—and then someone said Jackie Chan wasn’t real and didn’t do his own stunts and that it was a conspiracy, which sparked another debate over whether Elvis was really dead, and disaster had been averted as the fight was completely forgotten.

“What happened?” Kagome repeated, concerned.

He shrugged. “They tried to push me around. Nothing much.” Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he added, “You looked busy.”

“Are you mad about that?” she asked. “I thought you were above jealousy.”

“I wasn’t—” Heads turned, and he lowered his voice. “I wasn’t jealous!” he insisted.

“Then why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry!”

“Oh, and that look is your ‘happy’ face?” she asked, secretly pleased. When he scowled, not looking at her, and didn’t reply, she threw her plate in the trash and returned to the rink with an inner sigh. Hôjô had kept holding her hand long after she’d wanted him to let go, but a little uncertainty wasn’t bad for Inu-Yasha; she just had to be careful it didn’t go from a little to a lot, because then things got ugly.

At least I remember everything now, she thought resignedly. I don’t need Hôjô’s help, or his. Whisking around a corner, she did a few crossovers to keep her balance and breezed by some of her less adept friends, as casual as if she was riding a bike.

“Hi, Kagome!”

Swallowing a groan, she forced a smile. “Hi, Hôjô.” Oh boy...

“Gosh, you don’t need any help, do you?”

“No,” she hinted, “I really don’t.”

“Well, do you mind if I skate with you then?” he asked, eyes full of the pleading that, should she refuse, would make her feel like a monster.

“Not at all.” How did she get herself into these things? How?

Suddenly her blade hit a deep scratch in the ice and she stumbled, lurching forward. A hand seized her elbow, keeping her from falling, and then Hôjô pulled her to her feet again, now more-or-less coincidentally very close to Kagome. “Are you all right?” he asked worriedly. She was about to step back and reply that she was fine when something shoved in front of her.

“Back the hell off,” Inu-Yasha growled.

In his own voice.

Hôjô blinked. Inu-Yasha glared. And Kagome’s mind raced. “Ah—Mayumi, you didn’t tell me you had a cold, or I never would have let you come! Your throat sounds just awful—come on, let’s get you off the ice—” She seized his wrist and hauled him away, a feat made significantly easier by the fact that they were on ice skates.

Hôjô watched them go, a bit confused. For a moment, he could have sworn that girl sounded like a boy, but then some girls had really deep voices, and with a cold…But why had she told him to back off?

Then the truth hit him.

Mayumi didn’t want him to catch a sickness that Kagome had. It made perfect sense: after all these absences, Kagome obviously felt like she was neglecting her friends and tried to make it up to them by coming to the party. He was only more inspired by her nobility…

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded as they headed over to the gate.

I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life… “Your voice!” she hissed, adding loudly as they neared Michiko, “Mayumi, don’t use your voice or you’ll just make it worse.”

“What’s the matter?” Michiko asked worriedly.

“Mayumi’s not feeling too well,” Kagome lied. “She’s got a sore throat and she’s starting to lose her voice—”

“What the hell, bitch, I am not—”

She blanched, then stammered, “Oh my gosh, she’s delirious! Well, sorry, Michiko, but I think we’d better get her home. You know how fast colds go around.”

“Uh huh,” Michiko said dazedly, still taken aback by the flood of obscenities. “Yeah, um, well, that’s too bad. Thanks for coming, Mayumi.”

Kagome hauled Inu-Yasha away before he could reply, wondering why she put herself through all this. After all, she didn’t have to go to her friend’s party. She could have let Grandpa tell Michiko that she’d come down with some strange disease like Ebola and spared herself this whole nightmare. In fact, she could have taken Sango, who would have been much nicer about this. So what if they set out a day late? Knowing them, they were going to run into chaos around every bend of the corner, so it wasn’t like it would be the only thing holding them back.

Thoughts for another day, she decided. Now was not the time to ponder her role in this whole shenanigan, not when she had to turn Inu-Yasha back into a boy again. Thank goodness her mother had thought ahead… They clunked onto the floor and Kagome all but shoved him into the girl’s room. After checking to make sure no one else was in there, she locked the door and let him go.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Inu-Yasha demanded. “I’m not god damn sick!”

“Your voice,” she said, opening her purse. “You’re lucky you used it in front of Hôjô, because anyone else wouldn’t be dense enough to not pick up on that. You’re supposed to be a girl, remember? And telling Hôjô to back off in your own voice won’t do much to convince anyone of that.” She pointed to a stall and handed him a stack of clothes. “Go in there and put these on.”

Inu-Yasha decided for once that it was better to do what she said and not question it, or there was a good chance she’d ‘sit’ him. “Does this mean no ramen?” What was this material? It was so…scratchy.

“Not necessarily,” replied Kagome, leaning against the wall while he changed. Her mother had foraged an outfit from her father’s clothes that would hopefully work. It had been only three years since the accident, but she didn’t think of him as much as she used to. Whether it was from being so busy since she first fell down the well or that her mind had been focused on another male, she didn’t know and she didn’t care to find out. Whatever it was, it worked and took her mind off the painful months afterwards.

After a few minutes and several muffled obscenities, Inu-Yasha emerged, his former outfit rolled into a crumpled ball under his arm. The jeans fit, as did the dark gray sweater, and it looked as if this could possibly work. “It’s itchy,” he grumbled, scratching unhappily at the wool.

“Give me those.” Stuffing the clothes into her purse, she dampened a paper towel, warning, “Close your eyes and hold still.” He obeyed and she swiftly scrubbed off the eyeliner, then the gloss, and threw the paper towel in the trash; next was the hair. She pulled the ponytail holder free and undid the braid, running her brush through it once as he yelped at every catch and thinking up a story to tell Michiko in the meantime. “There.” All nice and manly, she added silently. She went to the door and peered out, checking to make sure no one was watching, and motioned for him to follow her. When they got to the rink, she went out on the ice while he knotted his skates back on. “Michiko!”

“Yes?” She turned. “How’s Mayumi?”

“She went home, but her twin brother’s here and he wants to know if he can join us. He already paid for the skates and everything.”

“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “Where is he?”

“Over there.” Kagome pointed to Inu-Yasha, who was now standing.

Michiko’s eyes flew wide open. “HELL YES.” Frantic, she turned back to her friend, patting her hair and tugging on her shirt’s hem. “Kagome, that guy is hot! Good God, I could roast an egg over him!” Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, and she demanded suspiciously, “He’s not that guy you’re seeing, is he?”

“No, Michiko,” Kagome sighed, excusing her lie with the fact that she wasn’t really ‘seeing’ Inu-Yasha.

“Good!” Her friend grinned a predator’s grin. “I call first dibs, then!”

“What?!”

“Well, you can’t expect the other girls to leave that hot young bishie alone if he’s open,” Michiko said cheerfully. “Happy Birthday to me…”

“Um—” Oddly enough, she was panicking. “He—uh—his mom doesn’t let him date!”

“WHAT?!”

“She doesn’t let him date,” she repeated. “Not until he’s…eighteen.” Of course, Inu-Yasha was well over sixty, but that wasn’t the point.

“Well, that’s not fair,” Michiko complained. “I mean, honestly—he’s—he’s—he’s a hunk of beefcake!”

Kagome barely kept herself from muttering, “You should see him on the other twenty-nine days of the month.” Instead, she skated over to him. “Alright—you’re supposed to be Mayumi’s twin brother, so don’t blow it this time, okay? Mayumi can only have so many brothers.”

He snorted, saying something and skating away. She missed his comment mainly due to the fact that there was a light coming from beneath the ice. A familiar sense prickled at her mind as she stared, transfixed. It couldn’t be…not another one in this time, it couldn’t be…

“Look out, Kagome!”

She snapped out of her trance in time to find she was on a collision course with her friend Rie. She swerved wildly, arms flailing, and realized in a fleeting moment that she was too off-balance to try to slow down. It was all she could do right then to keep from plowing into every person in her path, but every person avoided was another bit of balance lost. And then she stumbled, half-turned, and fell back, only to be caught smoothly. Indigo eyes peered into hers, gloating. “I thought you said you could skate,” Inu-Yasha muttered smugly.

Kagome ignored the envious sighs from every female around the rink (and a few males), fought off a blush, got to her feet, glared pointedly at the rest of the partygoers who pretended they hadn’t been watching, and hissed back, “I got surprised!”

“By what?” demanded the boy. “Usually you don’t blink if a bowl of miso soup gets up and dances.”

“I can sense a Shikon shard, but it’s—”

A crack ran across the surface of the rink as everyone stared. There was a moment of silence, and then a huge, metallic-black snake burst through, its long blood-red flicking out, towering forty feet over the ice rink; Kagome could see the Shikon shard at the base of its head. “I…can taste…the fear,” it said joyfully.

“—under the ice,” she finished weakly. “Um, yeah. That’s it.”

“Thanks for the advance warning,” Inu-Yasha grumbled. “‘Oh, no, there aren’t any demons in my time,’ there’s just a mask with an obesity problem, a psychotic ghost, and big black metal snakes.” AN: The mask was from book #3 (the Mask of Flesh), the ghost from #4 (Mayu)

“I am the Iron Snake,” the thing hissed, writhing gleefully. “How long—how long it has been—since I last tasted human flesh…But it wouldn’t do for me to have to chase you…” It threw its head back and shrieked, reddish gas billowing up from the depths of its belly.

“It’ll put them to sleep, no more,” Inu-Yasha said grimly as Kagome watched the remains of Michiko’s party collapse into fear-driven chaos. “I’ve heard of this bastard—he likes living flesh.”

“Then come on, we can’t let it reach us! You’re still human, or didn’t you notice?”

He swore and followed her to the nearest, from where Kagome seized her bag from the nearby bench and pulled out two handkerchiefs, handing one to him and tying one over her nose and mouth. The Tetsusaiga is…at my house, she thought rapidly, kicking off her skates as Inu-Yasha did the same, but my bow and arrows are—

…Also at my house. This is not my day.

An antique store. Or a trade store. They might have ornamental weapons, or at least a katana or something. “Let’s go,” she huffed, getting to her feet. By then, they were the only conscious beings within the mall, their bare feet thwapping against the cold tile of the floor. They raced out of the skating rink area and the crash of the metal doors opening and closing were eerily loud in the almost silent mall.

“Hmmm?” The snake peered at them. “What is this—two are still awake?” With a crunch, it slithered towards them.

We need to stall it somehow while we get the weapons—but how? Wait—reptiles don’t like cold because it slows them down, and this one’s been on the ice for at least thirty seconds—if I can set off the sprinklers or get it wet somehow, it should buy us some time!

Doubling back, she planted herself by the drinking fountains, the door to the lady’s room at her back, and jeered at the snake, ignoring Inu-Yasha’s startled oaths. “Hey, you! You want a piece of this, huh?” The gleaming black head swiveled to examine her, yellow eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, wormy!” It hissed, baring enormous blood-stained fangs. She gulped but continued, Inu-Yasha apparently having realized she knew what she was doing and waiting to see the outcome. “Oh, and having big teeth is supposed to scare me? I’ve seen worse—though those are pretty big.” Tilting her head slightly and praying to any listening gods that it was a male snake because she couldn’t really tell, she asked sweetly, “Are you trying to compensate for something?”

The Iron Snake lashed forward, plowing into the fountains just as she threw herself back through the door, landing ungracefully on her rear and sliding across the chilly ceramic tiles. The wall to her left cracked but thankfully held, the sound of water gushing from a broken pipe clear in the near-silence. Scrambling to her feet, she staggered out of the other door and found her plan had worked: drenched in water from the fountain’s pipes, the snake was already slowing, ice riming on its cold iron sides. Within moments, it was frozen solid.

“Inu-Yasha?” Where was he?

He appeared from behind another wall and caught up to her as she ran to the right. “Nice move with the water,” he said gruffly.

“Can’t let you have all the fun.” She came to a screeching halt in front of the directory and found an antique store and an import store nearby and immediately took off in that direction, Inu-Yasha on her heels. For a mortal, he realized, she was fast. They pushed their way up an escalator choked with unconscious people, though they’d started to cumulate at the top or the bottom.

She found the store she wanted and dashed in, glancing frantically around. Finding two katanas mounted on the wall, she unashamedly ripped one free and tossed it to Inu-Yasha, then looked for something she could use. There was nothing, so she went to the other store and searched in a frenzy. After a moment, she emerged from a trunk with a bow and a quiver of arrows. Her purifying arrows would do more damage than Inu-Yasha could in his current form, and they both knew it. “Cover for me,” she barked, running to the railing meant to keep people from falling onto the ice rink from the second level and easily swinging over it. The netting that encircled the rink during hockey games was nearby; she inched over and grabbed onto it, letting the net bear all of her weight. It was a struggle to keep her grip and line up a shot, but she needed this angle. She squeezed her knees together, the netting between them as the ice prison of the snake began to crack, white lightning-bolt-like lines darting through the clear coating. Kagome fired, but just then the netting tore half free and her arrow glanced to the side, she herself dropping a few feet. Gritting her teeth, she tried another shot, but the Iron Snake was free now and it threw itself at the wall, jarring her loose. She half-slid, half-fell the remaining distance, landing with a bruising thud, the Iron Snake’s fangs racing towards her. Automatically, she let fly another arrow and it buried itself in the soft flesh of the roof of its mouth. It jerked back, gurgling in pain, and she scrabbled away. Her knees caught and tore on the rough surface of the ice, but she dismissed them as scrapes, getting clumsily to her feet.

The Iron Snake’s tail slammed into her side, sending her soaring, her bow and arrows flying out of reach. She hit the wall full-force and slid down, stunned.

“Kagome!” Furious, Inu-Yasha launched himself at the snake’s head, side-stepping the fangs, and thrust the stolen katana into its only vulnerable part—the eye.

The snake shrieked and tossed him off like a rag, single good eye burning in hate. Inu-Yasha struggled to stand, cursing his weak human form while he slipped on the ice and the snake drew closer, teeth gnashing.

And then an ice skate hurtled out of nowhere, its blade plunging into its other eye. Kagome was back on her feet.

She had to make good use of the short amount of time they had before the snake’s eyes regenerated, thanks to the Shikon shard. Yanking the skates off two more unconscious people who looked like they had the right sizes, she sent the larger pair sliding across the ice to Inu-Yasha and pulled on her own, then seized her bow and arrows. If she could just get a good shot in at the base of its head, where the shard was—

Unfortunately, its eyes were healed and the snake was more vicious than ever. It came at her with blinding speed, and only a quick thrust backward saved her from being speared on its fangs. Then it was after her again, and she was stuck skating backwards, firing shots and swerving as it came at her once, twice, three times—she lost track, concentrating on keeping her balance and getting the shard out. Inu-Yasha was on the other side of the snake, she knew, but the katana was only good for close-range combat. First on her mind was the shard. She did crossovers, jumps, all sorts of moves she’d learned without even thinking about it. Each time she fired, she hit it, but other than blowing away a chunk of iron-flesh that instantly regenerated they did nothing.

Then, as she skated backwards around a curve, sweat trickling down her temple, and the snake lunged at her once more, she let another—the second-to-last—arrow fly, and it hit the shard. There was a burst of light and she caught the shard, yelling, “Now!”

The snake thrashed, turning to flesh once more, and Inu-Yasha drove the katana into the snake’s skull, burying it to the hilt. The yôkai stilled, then disintegrated, the ice melting where its blood had spilled. Silence reigned once more, and then Inu-Yasha said grudgingly, “I guess maybe you can skate.” Then, as if to redeem this admittance, he added hastily, “But not as good as I can.”

“Of course not,” she said in the ‘I barely know what you’re saying because we just finished killing a giant man-eating snake that wanted us for a late-night snack, and since I’m tired, I’ll humor you’ way. “Of course not.”

The shopping was actually going okay. Apart from asking every thirty seconds what something was, Sango and Miroku were very helpful, knowing exactly what they’d need for the journey. Within an hour, the as-of-yet-unpurchased spoils of their excursion were: two tents, four enormous backpacks, an absolutely revolting amount of ramen (Miroku had it in good faith that Inu-Yasha would shred them into yakisoba otherwise), lots of collapsible plates and cookware, rain gear, a disgusting number of freeze-dried meals, bottled water, water purifiers, bug repellents, multiple first-aid kits, and other general camping equipment. They were looking at lanterns and flashlights when Sango realized that Miroku was no longer with them. Her eyes narrowed and Shippô said in the manner of the long-suffering, “He probably went to ask a girl to bear his child.”

As it were, that was precisely what had occurred for the lilac-eyed young lecher: finding himself with the result of his request being a sore cheek and none of his shopping comrades in sight, he wandered, wishing Inu-Yasha had come. That way, Miroku could have located them from the sounds unique to traveling with him. Particularly the rather loud and coarse vulgarities, but Inu-Yasha had yet to use an expression that Miroku, at some point, had not.

Sadly, he was not here and Miroku was lost within this strange and confusing indoor marketplace. He contemplated asking another woman to bear his child so it wouldn’t be a complete waste of time, but, feeling his still-tender cheek, decided against it.

But then he saw a very well-dressed, attractive woman in the area of the store filled with clothes, and he simply could not resist. Donning the ‘noble monk’ look, he sauntered up to the young woman and offered his best smile. “Hello.”

She didn’t reply, and he shifted, unused to being ignored. Hit, yes. Kicked, yes. Being clocked with whatever hard, large or sharp and pointy object was nearest, yes. But ignored, no. He tried again.

“Ah—hi. I couldn’t resist your beauty and had to talk to you.”

She didn’t even look at him, just stared blankly ahead with no reaction whatsoever.

Oh, she was good. Very, very good.

“Would you be interested in bearing my child?”

Not a blink.

Was she under a paralysis spell? He waved a hand in front of her eyes.

“Sir, we ask that you please don’t touch the mannequins.”

Mannequin? What was a ‘mannequin?’ “I—I think there’s something wrong with this young woman,” he said nervously. “She isn’t moving.”

The clerk gave him the ‘I’m going to pretend that was funny because you’re a customer’ patronizing look and said condescendingly, “That could be because she’s not alive, sir.”

Appalled, Miroku gaped at the ‘mannequin’ as the clerk left. The people in this time propped up the unfortunate deceased and just left them like this?! Had they no respect for the dead? How could they dishonor their kind like this, shame their own brethren?

He shuddered and went back the way he came, cringing away from other ‘mannequins’ as he passed. The hapless young monk was wandering aimlessly, lost and wondering where Mrs. Higurashi and the rest could be, when he found himself near the entrance once more. If only there were a swifter means of transportation than just walking…A moment later, he spotted the strange contraption in the corner, like a cross between a ‘car’ and one of the ‘shopping carts’ Mrs. Higurashi was using…

The rest of the shopping expedition was looking for things they could sell for coins if they needed to purchase something when cries emanated from another department. Seconds later, an odd, low humming noise came clear above the rest of the sounds, growing louder and nearer, as did the yells.

Then a wide-eyed, panicking Miroku hurled around the corner, narrowly avoiding running down an elderly woman, a young mother, some toddlers and several potted plants. It was only by chance that he did so, having no concept whatsoever of how the steering wheel operated. A bag of Styrofoam packing peanuts was caught under a wheel and burst open, its contents flying into his face as he shielded his eyes and fervently prayed he didn’t hit anyone while he was blinded.

Sadly, a thump, muffled curses, and a new weight on the motorized cart told him distinctly otherwise. Peanuts streaming behind them like the tail of a comet, Miroku opened his eyes to find a terrified Sango in the cart itself, lodged sideways, her legs hanging over the side, with a just-as-petrified Shippô on her lap, both with peanuts clinging to them. “MAKE IT STOP!!” she yelled frantically, clinging to the metal sides in a white-knuckled grip.

“I don’t know how!” He yelped as they plowed into a stuffed animal display and they were buried in an avalanche of the furry creatures. Shippô’s head poked free after a second as Miroku peeled away a Tickle-Me Elmo. Half of the furballs in the cart were making strange noises and/or…talking? It couldn’t be… Sango was fighting them off in a frenzy, their fluffy white insides flying past, sometimes with sundered limbs still attached. (Several young children, seeing this, promptly burst into tears.) It wasn’t until she’d decimated most of the horde that she realized they actually weren’t alive.

There was a bone-rattling jolt as they struck a row of cushions. Stuffing clouded the air, and when it too cleared, Sango found Miroku beside her, every bit as bewildered as she.

She gaped at him. He blinked at her. Shippô looked at both of them. And she shrieked, “WHO’S DRIVING THIS THING?! AND WHERE IS SHIPPÔ?!”

It was now Shippô’s turn to wonder precisely how ‘this thing’ worked. Did the wheel affect the motion, like he’d seen in the car? He pulled on it—

And they spun wildly, crashing into a pile of down pillows. Feathers formed another blizzard and Shippô panicked from his position at the driver’s seat and jerked the wheel this way and that, resulting in a near collision with the cosmetics row.

They flew down the main aisle, people throwing themselves out of the way as Sango covered her head, Miroku froze, and Shippô vainly but valiantly struggled to keep from striking anything. The cart then veered into the plant department; seconds later, they emerged with vegetation clinging to their faces and a lawn gnome balanced momentarily on Miroku’s head.

Then, with a final, spectacular crunch, they drove straight into a veritable pyramid of cereal boxes. Grains of puffed rice and sugar-encrusted flakes rained down in a glorious shower and shoppers watched in awe as the pyramid teetered first this way, then that, and finally toppled down upon the unfortunate threesome. Bran and grains cascaded down, boxes breaking open and scattering their contents, burying the trio in a mound of dried goods. A moment later Miroku and Sango surfaced from the ten-foot pile, shaking the grains from their hair.

A little boy darted forward, seized the startled Shippô by the tail, and held up his trophy for all to see. “Look, Mommy! I found the toy!”

“Earlier this evening, a gas pipe ruptured beneath the ice rink in the local mall, rendering everyone inside unconscious for at least half an hour and disabling the security monitors. Everyone was evacuated immediately, and the police are continuing their investigation,” the newscaster announced gravely. The camera then swerved to a grizzled police officer.

“Yeah, I dunno what happened here, but the pipe was supposed to hold out for a long time. No one was hurt, thankfully, but fer some reason, there was a lot of damage to a drinking fountain. We can only assume that the pipe there burst too.”

“What was the cause of this mysterious explosion? No one knows for sure. We’ll have more to report on the eleven o’clock news…”

Miroku, Sango, and Shippô nodded appreciatively at the damage done to the mall. “Not bad,” the monk said. “Not bad at all.”

“I heard you had a busy night yourselves,” Kagome returned. She was only grateful that the snake really did break a gas pipe so they had an excuse. They’d had time to clean and return the weapons before anyone had awoken, and while Michiko had been a bit dissapointed, they had promptly shifted the party to the parking lot while they waited for their parents to arrive.

And, of course, many girls had reacted to Inu-Yasha’s appearance the exact same way Michiko had.

And, of course, many girls had reacted to Inu-Yasha’s apearance the exact same way Michiko had.

“This is Inu—ah, Inusuke,” Kagome lied. “He’s Mayumi’s twin—she got sick and had to go.”

The girls before them exchanged ‘gee, what a shame’ looks and turned adoring eyes to the still-oblivious Inu-Yasha.

She’d had to spend the rest of the evening fending of his admirers, knowing exactly what would happen if one got through: “What the hell do you want, bitch?”

“We’re lucky I’m one of their top investors,” Kagome’s mother said ruefully. “When they heard that I was Mrs. Higurashi, we practically had to convince them to let us pay for the supplies!”

“They wouldn’t take money for the mess we made either,” said Shippô. He was still a little put-off at being mistaken for a cereal-box prize, but he’d had the good sense to not make a huge fuss over it right then.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Kagome announced, getting to her feet. “Good night, everybody.”

“See you in the morning.”

“Good night!”

Suppressing a yawn, she climbed the stairs, let herself into her room, turned on the lights, pulled out a set of pajamas, remembered Inu-Yasha was going to sleep in the tree like he normally did, even though he wasn’t there right then, closed the window, put down the blinds, went into the bathroom to get into her pajamas, came out, put a bathrobe on and knotted it very tightly, opened the window and the blinds again—it was too hot to leave it closed—turned off the lights, and got into her bed.

A rustle outside and the red patch appearing now in her tree gave Inu-Yasha’s presence away. She rolled over so she was on her stomach and could see him clearly, the dark night giving her eyes no assistance. “Inu-Yasha?”
“What do you want?”

“How did you learn to ice skate?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, then said, “My mother taught me. Myôga says my father traveled a lot, and he brought her a pair of ice skates from some country with a lot of people with yellow hair and blue eyes and showed her how to skate, and she showed me.”

“Oh.” Flopping back onto her back, she stared at the ceiling. “Good night.”

He watched her eyes close, and returned his gaze to the stars. “Good night, Kagome.”

She didn’t hear it, though; she’d fallen asleep. It had been a very long day.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!! Okay, so I’m not exactly a horror movie freak, right? I can watch them as long as it’s earlier in the day and I can have lots of OTHER things to think about, and it’s even better if other people are there too so I can close my eyes.

BUT I JUST SAW ‘SIGNS’. ALONE.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

Okay, so I didn’t get that scared. So I didn’t completely lose it. But last night I had to sleep with the door open and the radio on—the door was to let in light and the radio was to drown out any clicky sounds I might hear. I mean, the noises that the aliens made sounded just like the ones that a house makes, you know, when your bed creaks or your window does SOMETHING. And now I can’t go near a window at night. Of course, I just saw ‘Signs’ last night, so I don’t know what things will be like tonight. Erg. And now I get scared about looking at doors and windows because I don’t want to see one of those creepy alien hands coming up underneath it or something. ERG!! This is PATHETIC! But really, I even woke up once last night at 4:00 am because I was trying so hard to keep my mind off aliens—and—and—and hands, and creepy green things and crop circles and OH MY GOD HERE I GO AGAIN!! :runs around in circles:

:sigh: Okay, moving on. Here’s the second chapter, hope ya liked it, don’t get used to having them this long cause even I was surprised at how long it turned out to be. Huh. Oh well, one of my chapters in ‘Vacation’ was over forty pages long. :shrug: Whaddya know. Oh yeah, and I’m thinking about doing an AU, but the idea isn’t really developed and I might just use it for my comic book. Dunno. Anyway, the next chapter is where the journey begins, and I can guarantee it’ll be much shorter than this—I think. Anyway, peace, love, and etc. for now! :throws down dust that turns into smoke, goes into coughing fit, and when the smoke clears, is still there.: Well, shi—I mean, ah, holy fruit. There goes my dramatic exit. :walks out the door instead: