Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I'm poor, I live in a house that's falling apart, and my internet doesn't work half the time. Do you really think I own anything other than a hentai/yaoi/yuri closet? No, I didn't think so.

What Are You?
Chapter 5


The first day of a whole new week…

But it wasn't just any week…

No...it was the second week…

But this time, Kagome was ready for it. She would take this new week head-on with both determination and pure instinct as far as her paintings went. The first of her six canvases was complete, now for the second. Well…maybe she'd start after class was over, professors were just too damned nosy sometimes and she didn't work well when someone was standing over her shoulder. So she wrote down her ideas for the next painting, thoughts flowing through her pen like water through a river bend.

"Higurashi," came the professor's voice from beside her.

She jumped slightly, her writing coming to a complete halt in an instant. "Nanada-sensei."

The elderly woman smiled slightly, "So, you have found your muse then?"

Kagome smiled back, "Hai. Arigatou for speaking to me on Saturday, sensei, you helped me alot."

"Do itashimashite, Higurashi. I look forward to seeing your work, as always," she stated before moving on to look at another of her student's progress.

The professor sure wasn't who Kagome had expected her to be. Nanada Kaede-san was a mystery that both met and surpassed all of her expectations. She was full of wisdom and had helpful tactics with which to approach students in order to motivate or encourage them to do better than even the students themselves thought possible. Surprisingly enough, Nanada Kaede was also one of the few people that Kagome knew to have ancestry dating back to the Sengoku Jidai. Apparently, she was the descendant of a long line of extremely well renowned miko, one of which had supposedly protected an object of extreme power at the temple Kagome had grown up in. It seemed that the very era followed Kagome around like a plague, like it was constantly trying to remind her of the book that just barely hid the existence of a lonely, silver-haired youkai no kimi.


Despite the undeniable scream of the bell and the thunder of forty-two students all standing up to leave at the same time, Kagome somehow managed to not notice. Her pen still moved from word to sentence to paragraph to page in a flurry of nearly incoherent thoughts. Flipping through the pages of her notebook, making random sketches here and there for emphasis when she finally got the chance to paint.

Her fingers itched still, they had since she had seen him, the one she had taken to calling her "inspiration" when other people were about. Otherwise she called him nothing, she just watched him dance through her thoughts or stand quietly in the forest looking as he had the first time she had seen him. But that didn't alter the fact that her fingers felt like they were going to melt if she didn't do something. So, she sketched and jutted down her ideas and sketched and sketched and sketched until she was sure that she'd never be able to use her poor abused fingers again. She glanced up almost five whole minutes after the bell had rung to find that she was alone in the room. Looking back down at her writing she sighed then let out a slightly annoyed "damn it" and snapped her book shut before shoving both it and her pencils into the worn messenger bag at her side. Nanada-sensei smiled and waved when she finally shot up out of her seat.

Kagome had been so determined to get back to her flat that she hadn't noticed her best friend as she sprinted through the threshold. The two of them stumbled backwards a few steps before they glared at each other playfully. Sango opened her mouth to say something witty, but closed it abruptly and turned a pretty impressive shade of red. She swung around and slapped Miroku right across the mouth just as Kagome noticed the look of pure bliss covering his features.

"My hand must be cursed," he mumbled, holding up the offending appendage with his perpetual perverted grin still firmly in place. "But it's always worth it."

"I'll have you know, Souma Miroku-san, that the hallway is not an appropriate place for that!" Sango admonished in a fierce whisper. Then she turned and looked at a most amused Higurashi Kagome, who was trying her best to not burst out laughing.

"Don't speak, just listen. Miroku and I have tickets to Miyavi's winter concert, that's tonight, and we both insist that you come with us. Neither of us is going to accept "no" as an answer, nor will we listen to any of your rather well thought-up excuses. I saw your canvas this morning, and what with the short amount of time it took you to finish it in, you'll be fine with the other five."

Kagome took a moment to ingest all of this information, blinking away the vacant look she'd acquired when Sango had started on her little rant. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck as both of her friends led her back to the apartment she and Sango shared. She really loved Miyavi's music, and that was a pro in the way of should she go or shouldn't she. Not to mention that one: Miyavi tickets were extremely hard to come by, and two: she hadn't been to any sort of concert since Tokyo-con a few years ago. There would also be tons of people there with which came a million chances for her to find a new idea for her midterms. So, all signs pointed towards the "go for it" option and she couldn't think of any reason not to attend.

"What time does it start?" she asked the two behind her.

"Seven-thirty, but Miroku is going to come over at six because I kind of told him that it was your night to cook dinner. So, since he wanted to try your food since forever, says he, I thought it couldn't hurt, ne?" Sango asked with a small grin.

"Ano ... I guess not, but what am I supposed to make? We've only got four hours until then and I really want to get some more ideas down for my second piece," she insisted.

"So you're coming then?"

Kagome nodded slightly, sighing, "Do I really have a choice?"

Sango smiled brightly, "No, you don't."

-.- NEKO!

What am I gonna draw? she wondered as she sat as her desk, a blank sheet of paper lying in front of her face. No matter how hard she had tried to find some way to relate her ideas to the daiyoukai, she just couldn't get them to fit. She was making an alternate universe fanfiction out of a perfectly wonderful anime, and her story really sucked, blew the big one it did. It was like piecing together a puzzle, she'd decided, only some of the pieces were warped from over use and environmental damage or missing altogether.

"Stupid puzzle pieces and...the being flimsy...and...uhg, what am I gonna do?"

He's the strongest of all the daiyoukai; so maybe, if the daiyoukai are the strongest in all of Japan, he can defeat anyone. But would he be on the good side or the evil one? Would they be one in the same, or would the line between the two distinguish them as total opposites?

It would seem that she had to think on his character once more, but was she even close to how he actually acted, or was she so far off the mark it wasn't even the same person anymore? A.U fanfiction indeed. Kagome took a deep breath and rubbed her tired eyes before glancing back at the blank paper that seemed to taunt her more and more with each passing second. So she threw her pencil at it and spat raspberries as if to prove a point ... what is was, though, she really didn't know.

"Teach you to taunt me."

Surely he wouldn't have picked a side to fight on, at least not so much that a particular group could distinguish him. She had to believe that while he would fight against one of the two opposing forces, he wouldn't devote himself entirely to the other. The daiyoukai seemed to have far too much pride to let himself be thought of as an equal by anyone else. Kagome sensed that he simply wished to be distinguished as the strongest amongst anyone and everyone that dared to draw breath into their lungs while they were in his presence. Even if one side, one army, was darker than any other, Kagome was absolutely certain that he wouldn't side with anyone because no one sided with him. She didn't presume to know the truth of who was or was not loyal to him, but she could at least assume that he had a retainer, a vassal, of sorts, that followed him. Not an army...but someone that looked up to him for his strength or because he was a great leader.

Got it, she thought, jotting down notes and ideas once more.

"Hey, Kagome," Sango called from the living room. "It's five forty-five, are you done yet or do you want me to make dinner?"

For the first few moments, she didn't answer as she finished her hasty scribbling on the margins of her sketch paper. "I'm coming, I'm coming, no problems here, everything's just peachy." Then she set down her pencil and headed towards the kitchen, nothing but the promise of food occupying her mind.

Kagome pulled out the noodles and spices from the cupboards, her mouth fairly watering as she thought of the perfect recipe. It was another one that her mother had taught her sometime in the midst of her high school years. The two of them had dubbed it "The Most Perfect Ramen Recipe Ever".

I need to give her a call tomorrow, she thought as she brought the pot full of water to a boil. I hope everyone's doing alright.

-.- NEKO!

Miroku had come over at six, just as Sango had said he would, two bouquets of flowers hidden behind his back as Sango let him in. He pulled the first out and bowed as he presented it to her with a bright smile on his face. "For you, aikouka," he told her. She had blushed prettily as he handed the white roses to her, taking a second to kiss him on the cheek before she rushed off to put them in some water. Miroku had followed her and presented the second bunch, daisies this time, to Kagome, who had thanked him with a tight hug.

"Go ahead and sit down, Souma-san, I'm not quite finished yet," Kagome told him as she arranged the flowers in a vase that she had stowed above the refrigerator.

He smiled at her, his violet eyes sparkling, "Well I guess I have to listen to the cook in her own kitchen."

As he walked out, to find Sango no doubt, Kagome giggled lightly. Her two friends were good for each other, she decided, adding the last touch of spices to the boiling pot. They were both considerate and caring and sometimes way too weird to be normal but she loved the both of them all the same. Yeah, they're good for each other, she thought with a confirming nod, they heal each other's hurts.

"You almost done in there?" Sango demanded in a playful impatience, "The concert's gonna be over before you're done!"

"Hold your horses, I'm draining the water right now!" Kagome yelled back with her sternest voice, "I promise I won't let you starve."

"But Kagome-sama, I fear I am starved of your pleasant attention, you've been s-"

... and he was cut off by the sound of Sango's hand connecting with what was most likely his face. Kagome shook her head and laughed out right as she shook the strainer a little to get the remaining water out, he was just too much sometimes. Taking three bowls from the cabinet over the sink, she divided teh ramen between the three of them and meandered into the dining area to find Miroku with a red hand print on the side of his face, again, and Sango looking away from him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Well," Kagome said, handing out the ramen, "when you two are done acting like petulant children, we'll eat, ne?"

Miroku placed his hand on Sango's shoulder, "Sango-san, may I ask you a question or extreme importance?"

Sango turned to him, an curious look crossing her features as she uncrossed her arms, "I suppose so, Miroku, what is it?"

He took one of her hands in his own and looked expectantly at her, "Would you bear my child, Sango-san?"

She blushed all over and turned quickly from him, as if to hide her reaction to his words. "So-Souma-san, you've already asked me that before."

"I simply felt compelled to ask you again, aikouka."

Kagome couldn't help it, they acted like such children, so she laughed, softly at first then louder when she couldn't hold it back anymore. "You two ... giggle are so laugh funny."

Sango and Miroku both looked at her then at each other before laughing along with her. For a few moments that's all they did, then when they settled down they finally started eating the ramen that Kagome had so graciously set before each of them. Miroku took a bite and let it sit in his mouth before his eyes went wide and he looked like he was about to cry.

"Kagome-sama," he said with a sniffle, "This is the best cooking I've ever had."

Kagome's eyebrows had raised at his spectacle and she nodded slightly with a rather unsure look on her face as he spoke, "I'm glad you like it, Souma-san, but I don't think it's that good."

Miroku shook his head and finished swallowing the second bit of ramen he had eaten, "I fear you are too modest, Kagome-sama, you see, Sango-san can't cook at all."

Sango punched him in the arm, glaring at him menacingly, "I can so cook, you just don't know it." Then she stuck her tongue out at him and went back to eating.

"That arm is going to fall off one day if you keep hitting it like that," Miroku pouted, rubbing the offended limb before taking another bite of his ramen.

They three of them finished dinner in the same manner, Miroku commenting shamelessly on one thing or another and Sango promptly responding in a rather violent way. And all Kagome did was laugh, quietly thinking to herself: They so deserve each other.

When the ramen was finished and Miroku laying on the floor with various bumps and swirling eyes, she gathered the dishes, washing them quickly before both she and Sango went to change clothes for the concert.

What do I have that I could wear to a concert? Kagome asked herself as she rifled through her closet finding worn hoodies and jeans and a skirt or two every so often. It wasn't until she found a long lost 1980's style sweatshirt that she finally came upon an idea. Grabbing the black sweatshirt, a clean wife beater and a pair of badly worn jeans with gaping holes in the knees and some just a little higher, she dressed accordingly.

When she emerged from her room she walked in on something she probably shouldn't have. Miroku's lips were pressed against Sango's and his hands holding her hips firmly against hers as the two of them pressed against each other. She squeaked, turning away quickly and heading back to her room, but she had a sinking feeling that they had heard her. "G-gomen," she muttered, stepping through the threshold.

"Wait, Kagome," Sango called out to her, "Sorry, we just kind of got caught up and we didn't hear you open the door."

A furious blush still covered Kagome's cheeks as she turned back to them, not looking up at them but rather a the floor before the two. "Yeah well, get a room next time," she said with a slight laugh as the three of them gathered their composure, the two girls blushing while Miroku just stood there smiling. Apparently they're better for each other than I thought.

They left the apartment in silence shortly after, Kagome walking a few feet in front of her two friends as if to give them a little privacy on the way to the convention center. Then Sango spoke up after nearly five minutes of complete silence.

"Are you okay, Kagome-chan? You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm fine," she managed to squeak out, "I just didn't expect that and I feel bad, having interrupted your moment."

"That's all right, Kagome-sama, after all, we kiss all the time," Miroku commented shamelessly.

Then Kagome stopped walking altogether and Sango smacked him for what could have been the twelfth time that day. "Don't say that," she insisted, a blush forming on her cheeks again.

Almost another five minutes later, they stood amongst nearly a thousand other people, both college students from various universities and other young people alike were gathered to watch the show. The opening band had a lot of energy, something like a mix of T. M. Revolution and Do As Infinity without the same hot guys running around on stage. They weren't original in the way they ran their music, though, and Kagome knew that if they ever wanted to be something, they'd have to change what they played. The crowd today loved them, though, mostly because they were from Kyoto University, and as far as Kagome was concerned, they were all right for now.

Then the announcer walked up to the front of the stage and tapped on the microphone a couple of times. "Are you ready?" the man asked the already excited attendees and Kagome couldn't help but hope that was a rhetorical question, otherwise that made him really stupid. The crowd screamed and yelled their anticipation and excitement, all of them going into a wild frenzy as they tried to quicken their obsession's approach. The announcer gave them a smile that nearly covered his face and nodded his approval then directed one hand to indicate the band as they waited to be ushered onto the stage. "Please welcome…MIYAVI!"

/Oh, wow/ Kagome thought, watching Miyavi dance on stage like the energetic ball of laughter he was. For some reason I'm really quite ashamed that I haven't been to a concert in so long, I don't think I could even sing the words to the songs if someone asked me to.

His very presence there made the entirety of of those watching combust into a writhing mass of screams of pure excitement and something she couldn't quite place. Something primal, something simple and yet so complicated that the people moved like waves as they watched him move across what was obviously his stage. They wanted him. Not only did they want him to perform with his band, they wanted him in a rage of hormones and lust.

Then, a hush fell over the crowd and the music started to play slowly at first, then louder and stronger and faster until it thrummed through their veins. Sango and Miroku began to dance with the rest of the crowd while Kagome watched the vocalist on the stage. He moved and sang like he was controlling them, mastering their senses with his hypnotic melody and it was all they could do just to move right along with him. The words to his songs fell from his mouth like a waterfall, feeding the audience with its aphrodisiac-like tune.

She unconsciously took a few steps back, shaking her head so that she could focus on something, anything … and tripped over something only to crash into someone else, someone with a very nicely sculpted chest. Strong hands gripped her shoulders to steady her as she muttered apologies to the person she'd tripped on and the one who held her; she looked down at the one who had caused her fall. Then she grabbed onto the person she'd fallen into, her eyes fixed on the strange and freakish creature before her. The thing had green skin, beady yellow eyes, and closely resembled a kaeru, and it looked up at her with a most startled expression on its face.

"Y…you can see me?"

How could I not see you? Kagome wanted to yell, but instead, she offered a severely incomprehensive, "Gomen nasai."

A rather annoyed sounding "Feh" came from the person she was still holding on to. She continued to watch the kaeru thing as he hurried away, muttering something about how someone was going to kill him and bring him back only to torture him further. Then, when it was gone, disappeared through the legs of the crowd, she tried to think of a proper apology for the person she was still hanging on to before looking at him. When she did, though, her eyes widened and she nearly died of shock. It was the other one, the hanyou, and now she was certain that she was insane. The characters from her still frame drama were appearing before her eyes, none of which were even supposed to exist, or so she thought. He had puppy-dog ears atop his head and they twitched every now and again, supposedly listening to the artist on stage, and his amber eyes bored into hers. Wait ... amber ... kind of like his, but ... no, they were different, very different. This person's emotions shone clearly in his eyes, while the other ... the other's were like steam and ice at the same time, betraying nothing.

The hanyou look-alike then looked at her and lowered his face to hers until their noses were almost touching, "What 'cha lookin' at?"

Kagome yelped, shocked out of her…well, shock. "Oh, Kami. What's going on? How…how can you exist? Or him," she asked pointing after the kaeru-like creature, "and especially HIM." She was referring to the person she had met resembling the daiyoukai, though, how the hanyou knew about him she wasn't so sure. "That's it, I knew this would happen one day; just have them ship me off because I've finally snapped. Fmay mumfhhi ko Haphgumi."

The silver haired boy jumped back a step when she started her rambling, then placed a hand over her mouth in an attempt to shut her up. And after a few more mumblings, she did. "Look," he told her, "I know you think you're crazy, I'm not going to tell you different because you probably are. But, you know something that you shouldn't know and we have no idea how in the hell you know it."

She pulled at his hand, her heart racing in her chest as she narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you people?" she whispered almost desperately.

One of his ears twitched at her words, almost as if he'd been hurt by them somehow, but he said nothing. Instead he just stood, though, inspecting her as if she were some sort of strange specimen beneath a microscope lense ... nothing new or entertaining ... just something worth staring at.

Kagome subconsciously knew that he wouldn't answer her question, that he was too proud to tell her what he was and then let her know that he wanted to be more. It was almost like he expected her to know and somewhere inside of her mind she did know what the answer to her question was ... But a part of her needed him to tell her that she was wrong, that this was all just a bad dream and not to worry because she'd be waking up any moment now. And still he stood there an arms length away from her and her fingers itched again.

She sighed, relaxing her face as the irritation and sudden annoyance at the situation slipped from her in a single moment. Then, shoving her hands into her pockets in a vain attempt to cease the itching, she turned suddenly from him to disappear into the dense crowd. Besides, if he didn't affirm her suspicions when she'd asked her question, then surely he could have disproved them just as easily, couldn't he? Of course he could.

"Hey!" she heard him call out to her as she clenched her hands into fists within her pockets.

I don't want to know, she decided as she wound a path through the crowd, the gyrating bodies filling in the space as quickly as she had vacated it. I'm going to go back to the apartment I share with my best friend and find something to paint, then I'll go to bed because I'm seriously going insane and it's not good to stay up past your bedtime if you're going insane, she chided herself, trying to find some sort of humor at her present situation. Oh, no, bed first ... yes, bed ... sounds like a plan, Kagome.

Yes, great plan, Kagome, I couldn't agree more.

Thank you, Kagome, I appreciate your enthusiasm. and oh, by the way, did you know that I'm talking to myself?

Yes, I had noticed that, you should remedy that as soon as possible, it'll only get worse if you continue.

I think I'll do that, thanks, Kagome.

No problem, Kagome, and do get to sleep by bedtime, we wouldn't want this problem to progress further.

During her ... rather strangely unnerving conversation with herself, she vaguely realised that the hanyou look-alike was still following her and yelling at her to "wait the fuck up" as he put it oh so sweetly. But she continued to ignore him, intent upon getting home and hopefully keeping her sanity, or what was left of it, intact. So, she ducked into the crowd once more, heading towards the western exit, the one closest to where her apartment was. And only half a moment later she pushed the exit door open and, met with the crowd outside that was watching the concert on the oversized T.V. screens, pushed through even more dancing, raving bodies and singing voices.

With thoughts of her bed winding through her mind, she was soon on the other end of the enormously large group of people and headed home. But the encounter with the kaeru and the hanyou still unnerved her. She hadn't in her wildest dreams imagined that she'd encounter them for real, stand in their presence outside of one of the stories she had read. She'd never thought for a moment that she'd get the opportunity to truly be disgusted by one's presence and completely intrigued by another in the convention centre at her first concert in years. Kami was sending her a sign obviously, no more going to wild parties!

And then Kagome made a decision as she strode with determined steps down the sidewalk, hands firmly in her pockets and fingers still itching as she tried to look like any other college student on their way back to their apartment:

Things were about to get much, much more complicated, of that she was certain.

-.- NEKO!

This chapter is still dedicated to Celestia Prye, for without her ideas this chapter would have been nonsensical and rather messed up applauds FYI: aikouka means lover or my love and kaeru means toad or frog. I'm still working on chapter six so please look forward to it ... in about a week - ' I'm such a slacker ...
Review and I shall love you!