A/N: *shrugs* Yah, I know I'm grounded and not supposed to be online, much less updating. And yah, I know that the last installment of this said "ende" at the bottom, but then again, so did the first one. Besides- people asked for more, it's perfectly logical to continue, and I'm curious to see if I can take this thing any further without screwing it over. I may even do a fourth chapter for the houshi if I get a good idea or am prodded enough. ^_~ Do I hear any complaints? I thought not.

Actually, I think this is one of the best things I've written in a while. I'm very proud of it- which is WHY I'm sneaking online to post it. Be happy, damn you!

And now . . . Clueless!Sango's POV. Watch out, this chappie gets a little bit creepy. Less mush, less romance, more sexuality, more scary angst and now with added gory imagery! You KNOW you want it, bitch. *whip cracks*

A request-fic goes to the first person to find the Dickens quote. -^__~- Nyao.









"The Dreaming Places"









Something is going on here.

I can sense it looming behind me, like a creeping youkai with poison hidden in its fangs and a deranged grin- the kind that can kill you and be gone before you even know you're dead.

Kagome-chan has been upset, and seems to be playing with Shippou and Kirara more often to distract herself. Inu-Yasha is clinging to Houshi-sama like a frightened child, and Houshi-sama clings back protectively. They don't even know they're doing it half the time.

We were in a fight the other day, and Houshi-sama was punched in the gut. He's had worse and shaken it off easily, but from the way Inu-Yasha reacted you'd think he'd been split open from hip to lip. The youkai was dead in the next instant, and Inu-Yasha was fussing over Houshi-sama like a mother hen before the body hit the ground.

A few days before that it was the new moon, and Houshi-sama spent the entire night by Inu-Yasha's side, not leaving him alone for more than a moment until dawn. I don't know if he wanted to protect him or just make sure that he wouldn't run off the way he usually does.

But I'm pretty sure that Houshi-sama didn't need to hold his arm the whole time.

Kagome-chan was watching me that night. She didn't even seem to notice the others. It made my face hot, like when the monk watches me and says he wants me. But he hasn't done that lately, and even when I tried to hint that I kind of liked it when he did, he just smiled and gave Kagome-chan a funny look and kept right on not doing it.

I don't understand him at all.

But then again, I never did.

I like Kagome-chan better sometimes. She doesn't look down on me like he usually seems to. I can't really blame him, but he just doesn't like women that much.

Well, maybe I should rephrase that. He likes us TOO much. He thinks we're dolls, so he pets us and plays with us and tells us how very beautiful we are, but he can't really "connect" with us. He sees gods, not girls. It isn't his fault, really, and I can tell that he doesn't even mean to do it, but . . . he still does. He worships at our altar and idealizes us in his mind with lotus-incense dreams and oft-whispered but genuinely-felt prayer.

I suppose that I understand better him than I thought. But still . . . still.

I don't want to be beautiful. I don't like it when he brushes my hair into place or gives me flowers. It's nice to be pampered occasionally, but it's not the life I want for myself.

I want to be a warrior, and I want to give the gift of death to all the angry souls in the world, so they can go to the dreaming places and be at peace. I want to give it back to Kohaku, who had it and lost it, and will never let my own soul be stilled until he is dead again.

I live because of him. I live only for him.

I am his family, but part of that, I've learned, involves doing what is best for him. I am his sister; he is my brother. We are each other's parents.

And our souls are very much the same.

So until he is dust and dirt and ash, I will exist, and will love him even as I hunt him down like the dog he's become and kill him in the small hours with the knife our father gave me. I will make him bleed and hack that traitorous monstrosity that makes up the Shikon shards and their magic out from under his skin, and it will be beautiful, and then I won't have to be.

He would make a lovely corpse.

I suddenly miss Kagome-chan, and feel an unfamiliar need for warmth. She's only asleep, but there is a sudden, irrational terror in my mind and I go to her.

She's lovely in repose, you know. Dark hair made to gleam in the firelight, skin that should always be touched, and a face that I would love to see in nothing but candlelight.

But that's a thought just for me. For my nice place, where I go when I know I'm safe. Houshi-sama likes to take me there sometimes, but he's always very careful to make sure we come back. Kagome-chan doesn't know HOW to come back. She'll laugh and throw her head back, baring her neck to the world without fear. She'll take a bath without automatically searching the trees- unless she's looking for Houshi-sama, of course.

She's so sweet, always. Never suspicious first, never cruel. Never mean on purpose.

And she's gorgeous when I get to see her naked. See her wet and laughing with her bare throat and soft curves, let my eyes go from white hip to smirking lip, and then I am the one who worships at the altar of woman and wants to give out flowers and light lotus-incense dreams.

"Kagome-chan," I call softly, touching her shoulder, and her eyes open groggily.

"San-chan?" she asks, still half-asleep. I like that name.

The fire is dying, but for the first time . . . in a very long time . . . I want to live.

"Come to the water with me," I whisper. "Let me see you there again."

She does, and I do.

She lets me kiss her.









* ende *









. : review or no houshi pov! *_* mwahaha! : .