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♥ BLEANUYASHA ♥

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♥ BLEANUYASHA ♥

Was he going crazy? He blinked and frowned at what he was looking at, peering at it closely at it one more time.

Kurosaki Ichigo was not your average guy. He was 20 years old; he had two little sisters, a really annoying dad, and he was now on his way to earning his pre-med degree.

He also worked as a Death God in his spare time.

There was nothing average about his family, considering that his little sisters could also see ghosts and their father was the biggest loony bin in all of Japan. There was also nothing average about his two closest friends, who considered themselves his bestfriends (although he would never admit it out loud to them), if you considered that one was a guy who could shoot powerful spirit arrows from his hands and the other was a stuffed animal. That one of them had an unhealthy love for capes and the other had an unhealthy love for girl’s bosoms were also a plus to the weird factor.

He considered himself pretty jaded; he had seen a lot in his short twenty years. Ghosts, Hollows, Death Gods, dead people, Menos Grandes, ugly people riding boars instead of horses, hot-tempered women living in weird houses, Kon in drag… talking cats… been there, done that, and he even had the t-shirt to show for it. You tend to get exposed to a lot when you’re an all-powerful Shinigami.

But no matter how much he had seen, heard or been through, he had never encountered this before. THIS being different colored spirit threads emanating from one person. He instinctively knew before his Shinigami days that all living beings had their own distinct spirit threads. They were like DNA; your own spirit identity, your spirit thumbprint so to speak. He then learned from Ishida later on that Death Gods had red colored spirit threads, which was how the cape-wearing weirdo was able to tell what he was in the first place.

That had been five years ago. From then on, he had gone through a lot of things, but he had only seen two colors for spirit threads – red and white. Five years of being a Death God and he had never seen any other color – up until now. He rubbed his eyes, convinced that he was seeing things. Talking cats that could produce spirit balls he could deal with, but blue and pink-colored spirit threads? What the heck!

He was having an off day; a very, very long off day. Now that he was more experienced, he had his very own glove that would turn him from an ordinary college student to a Shinigami in a split second. He still had Kon, since the kuso gaki was emotionally attached to him. Ichigo wasn’t that heartless so he let the stuffed toy live with him. He was like a pet - one that didn’t need to be fed or walked and served as a convenient outlet for his frustration at times. He also came in handy for Hollow fights, especially if he couldn’t afford to have his human body lying prone in the sidewalk for everyone to see. He was just having an off day and that was that. He was just seeing things, that’s all. There were no such things as blue and pink spirit threads. Period.

He frowned at the direction of the girl again, deciding that he probably needed to get his eyes checked.

Kon had obnoxiously woken him up this morning, payback for not noticing that the modified soul inside of the stuffed bear had attempted to ‘run away’ from home again, in an attempt to get more attention from him. Ever since he graduated from high school and moved out of his father’s house to live at an apartment near the university, Kon had been complaining that nobody gave him the attention that he craved anymore. What it translated to was that there weren’t as many female bosoms that cuddled the modified soul pretending to be a stuffed toy anymore. Inoue had gone to another university, so Kon’s softest and most favorite haven was now unreachable for him and he blamed Ichigo for it.

He constantly badgered Ichigo about getting a girlfriend so that he could have some female attention, but Ichigo didn’t have time for troublesome relationships with girls. Juggling getting a degree and performing Death God duties didn’t really leave a lot of time for socializing with anyone. If Ishida didn’t have the spiritual powers that he had, Ichigo wouldn’t even have a friend in this school except for his sorry excuse for a lion stuffed animal. Chad was currently in Mexico, straightening some of his abuelo’s unfinished affairs.

Not that he minded not having a lot of friends or a girlfriend in the least, because he didn’t have time for those kinds of silly things anyway. He still kept in touch with his high school friends and college wasn’t like high school. He saved a heap of people’s necks from Hollow each week, nobody actually expected him to be captain of the uni soccer team now on top of that now, did they?

He brought two fingers to rub the bridge of his nose. Maybe it was a side effect of swallowing Kon’s pill. The little poop was bad for his health and state of mind, he thought almost fondly. All he needed was a good cup of coffee and a break from Shinigami duties this weekend. Lately, more and more Hollows have been appearing. Both he and Ishida have been looking really haggard from having to destroy them before they managed to harm an innocent soul. Heroes get no sleep, someone should have told him that when he unwittingly signed up for the job.

He was just having an off day, that was all, he said to himself as he forced himself to look away from the girl. She was pretty, he guessed; if you preferred the long, sleek-haired, wide blue doe-eyed, innocent look with legs that seemed to go on forever. His eyes refused to follow his brains suggestion however, and he was thankful as he jolted upright when the bell finally rang indicating the end of class. Thank God it’s Friday.

He took his eyes off of the girl as he gathered his things. Students filed out of the classroom and he lost track of her. He didn’t really care, she didn’t look dangerous nor did she have an evil air about her. He fully doubted if Hollows went as far as to disguise themselves as normal people anyway. They weren’t that intelligent, they weren’t that capable and normal people wouldn’t be able to see them anyway so what was the point of having to disguise themselves?

Thank God it’s Friday, was all he could think as he trudged back to his shared apartment.

Kon launched himself at Ichigo’s face as the orange-haired guy stepped into the apartment that he shared with Uryuu. “Ichigo! I was so bored all day, there was nothing good on TV! Can’t we go somewhere this weekend?” He said as he pulled on a fistful of orange hair. “You’re probably the most boring person that I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. You’re more boring that Ishida!” The stuffed toy continued to harass the boy, unmindful of the growing vein on the side of his head. “I bet Ishida has a girlfriend and he’s just keeping it a secret because he feels sorry for you. You are so unsociable!”

The stuffed lion let out a strangled sound as he was lifted off of Ichigo’s hair to come face to face with his face. “Temee, urusai! I just came home and you’re harping at me worse than a desperate housewife!” He punted Kon into the nearest wall and took his shoes off, leaving his socks on as he haphazardly tossed his bag in a corner.

The stuffed toy hit the wall with a squeak and righted himself. “You’re so cruel!” He wailed.

Ichigo found some coke in the refrigerator and opened one, drinking almost half of it in one sip. The overworked Shinigami was in need of some caffeine to block out Kon’s complaints. Blah, blah, blah, blah, I don’t get to go out anymore. Blah, blah, blah, you don’t take me anywhere. Well duh, you’re a stuffed animal. You should be thankful I brought you with me to the dorm instead of leaving you to Karin, you little turd. The modified soul continued to rail at him but then eventually got tired of being ignored after several minutes of ranting and the two of them settled on watching TV on the couch instead.

A commercial about a local Cosplay in town, with the special appearance of Don Kanonji himself came into view. He was rolling his eyes just as the front door opened and in came his roommate.

“Yo.” He greeted. His roommate muttered a tired greeting back at him, removed his shoes and placed them neatly at the shoe rack.

“Long day?”

“Don’t even ask me about it,” Uryuu complained. Ichigo had no intention to ask him about it; he was just thankful that it was already the weekend and he didn’t even encounter a single Hollow on his way back to the apartment tonight. “What’s up with all the Hollows lately?” Ishida whined. Placing his book bag on the floor, he flopped down on the couch beside Kon and Ichigo. Apparently, he was going to share his long day with them despite him telling them not to ask. “I encountered two big ones, three smaller fries and five small ones which merged into a bigger Hollow before I even started first period today!” He looked like he had more to get off of his heaving chest.

“The Hollow activity has been rather odd lately,” Kon contributed. Ichigo remained silent, preferring to watch a stupid show on the television, refusing to be reeled in to the Hollow conversation. It was a weekend, darn it. He was going to have his normal weekend for once. He deserved it after day after week after month of relentless Hollow fighting. Maybe he could go to that Cosplay convention… start feeling like a normal student again. Cosplay conventions were rather popular all throughout Japan these days. Maybe he could take Ishida; he wouldn’t need to find a costume, he already had his white and blue suit with matching cape in his closet, he snickered.

“ODD!” Ishida’s voice raised a pitch. “Odd does not describe the Hollow activity as of late. It has been freaking insane!” He said almost hysterically, the veins showing in his eyes. Being a Quincy meant that he was trained on dealing with Hollows on a regular basis, but ‘regular’ didn’t mean every thirty minutes in a day. The Hollows themselves hadn’t been difficult to defeat, but the constant fights, having to worry about being late to class, seeing a hollow pass by your classroom window and making up excuses to go to the bathroom each time was creating extreme havoc to his mental health. The frequency of the Hollow sightings didn’t decrease as the days rolled into weeks and then into months either. If not, they just increased in number. An elite Quincy like him was still human, and humans needed rest, sleep and time to relax. He hasn’t had any time to relax lately.

The stuffed toy nodded sympathetically to his plight. “I wonder what’s attracting them,” he thought out loud. “You didn’t set off one of your baits again, did you?” He pointed accusingly at the last remaining member of the Quincy clan.

“Why would I do such a stupid thing like that, you idiot?” Uryuu straightened the glasses on the tips of his nose indignantly.

“Well, you did it once before, so what prevents you from doing it again?”

“I learned my lesson, that’s what!” He huffed, clearly bent that someone would even think he was capable of doing such a thing. Once was enough, thank you very much. He wasn’t stupid that he would not have learned his lesson the first time.

“So if it wasn’t you, then what’s causing all the Hollows to converge here? There must be something that draws them to this place or else we wouldn’t have to deal with so many of them on a daily basis.”

“There is no “we” in this, since it is only me and Ishida who deals with them, ahou.” Ichigo said dryly.

“And who takes care of your body when you forcefully take my pill away, you ingrate!” The stuffed animal cried in protest.

“That still doesn’t mean that you do any of the fighting.”

Uryuu caught the stuffed animal as it launched itself at Ichigo. “Still, Kurosaki-kun,” he adjusted his eyeglasses, “the mod soul is right, there must be something that’s luring them here. This Hollow activity is not normal. Not normal at all,” he said.

“Well how should I know? I’m just a Death God, not a freakin’ detective!” Ichigo said crossly. He was tired of having to fight Hollows left and right twenty four seven, too.

The trio fell silent as they tried to think of what it was exactly that might lure such a large number of Hollows in their neighborhood. It wasn’t Uryuu, that was for sure. He had learned from an early age how to quell his spirit powers; it was expected of a Quincy. Kon was undoubtedly not a factor either. He was a stuffed animal; Hollows had never been interested in him before so why start now? If it were five years ago, the three of them would have undoubtedly unanimously agreed that it would have been because of Ichigo.

Five years ago, the boy didn’t know squat about how to keep his powers in check or cloak them in any way. He was like an open book, a lighthouse, beaconing and advertising his immense spiritual powers for everyone to see from here to Timbuktu. He couldn’t actually quell his powers like Uryuu could, since his spiritual resources seemed to be limitless, but he had long since learned to cloak them. He too had learned from his past mistakes and didn’t want to repeat them ever again. Nowadays he was even good in sensing spirit energies as well, not needing a silly cellphone or ‘orders’ from the Soul Society to track down Hollows. He was his own man; an independent Shinigami.

All three silently agreed that it wasn’t because of Ichigo as well.

So what was it?

“I think I’m getting a headache from all this Hollow talk.” Ichigo grumbled. “I just want a—“ his complaint died in his throat as he felt the familiar presence. “Aw poop,” was all he said as Ishida put a glove on with a skull on it and punched him into Shinigami mode.

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” Ishida asked, flexing his hands as he took the glove off and put it back in his pocket.

“Duh, genius.”

“Shut up.”

He was halfway through the door when he noticed that he was the only one moving. “Aren’t you coming?” He crossed his arms across his chest, his trusty Zanpak-to, the Zangetsu strapped on his back.

“Hey, I already had my fair share when I was coming home tonight,” he answered smugly. “And besides, I am not a Shinigami, so it isn’t my job.”

“Temee…” Ichigo raised an angry fist at his roommate.

“Shouldn’t you go and defeat that Hollow before it eats someone’s soul, Ichigo?” Kon interrupted.

Cursing his two roommates, the irate Death God turned on his heel and hurried to where the disgusting feeling was pulling him to. All he wanted was a normal weekend, was that too much to ask for?

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All she wanted was just a normal weekend, was that too much to ask for?

Apparently it wasn’t because for two years since the well closed, Higurashi Kagome had nothing but normal weekends anymore. It was hard to believe that she was no longer capable of traveling through time by the use of an old, dry well these days.

Kagome Higurashi was not a normal girl. On the day of her 15th birthday, a centipede demon pulled her down the old well that was located in the grounds of their shrine and into the Sengoku Jidai. There she met a hanyou who was pinned to a tree, a cute little baby kitsune, a lecherous monk with a roving hand, a surrogate grandmother, a strong demon slayer and a demon prince, just to name a few.

She also found out that she was the guardian of the Shikon no Tama, a powerful jewel that could grant any wish and gave the bearer an immeasurable amount of power. In the early days, when she didn’t care about anything except how to get back to her own time, she didn’t really care about the jewel and shattered it. From then on, she embarked on a journey to gather all the pieces and put them back together. The adventures that she engaged in ranged from enjoyable to dangerous ones, but each one was always memorable.

During her journey to gather the Shikon shards, she gained a lot of friends and even a few enemies on the way. One of them was a hanyou named Naraku whom they found was responsible for the bitter end of Inuyasha’s blooming relationship with his first love. The same evil being was also responsible for the void on Miroku’s hand that grew each passing day up until such time that it finally sucks the owner into it, killing him and everything within the vicinity in an instant. He was also responsible for the slaughter of Sango’s entire village, and the enslavement of her little brother. Kohaku became Naraku’s puppet of evil, a loyal slave to do his bidding.

He was truly evil and he made himself more powerful by absorbing other powerful beings into his own. One of the biggest mistakes he made was because of this. Maybe someone should have told him that it was a bad idea to try and absorb the Demon Prince of the West.

The battle against Naraku lasted for almost three years. The evil hanyou had gotten hold of most of the Shikon shards and constantly made attempts to steal Kagome’s shard but their ragtag group of friends managed to fend him off each time. If he fought his battles on his own instead of sending his various detachments to do his dirty work for him, Kagome guessed that they would have ended the battle as soon as Sesshoumaru and Kouga finally decided to join forces with them, but that wasn’t the case. Despite their combined powers, the hanyou still managed to elude them; and all because he was such a cunning coward.

Even the miko wanted to lose hope at one point. They had full demons on their team, combined with Inuyasha’s power, as well as Miroku’s and Sango’s, yet from her point of view, they were always at a disadvantage. Miroku’s Kazaana had grown wider by the passing of each year, and Inuyasha had hated the fact that despite how many upgrades his sword got, he still couldn’t defeat Naraku. He had a hard time accepting the help of Kouga and Sesshoumaru as well, but in the end, they all had one goal – the destruction of Naraku. That alone made the reluctant inu hanyou relent in allowing additional members to their group.

When they finally managed to corner the real Naraku, the last battle had been fierce and long. Looking back, it was like a scene out of Return of the King, a battle echoing that of their fight with So’unga. Wave after wave after endless wave of youkai came at them until Miroku collapsed under the pressure of absorbing too much jyaki. Sango and Kirara had several nasty wounds but they still kept fighting, refusing to give up. Most of Kouga’s wolves have been slaughtered, but Ginta and Hakaku continued to fight alongside Shippou, despite their obvious fear. Their will to survive and bring peace to the world overrode the pains of their injuries and the fear in their hearts.

What Kagome probably disliked most about that battle was that her friends wasted a lot of time and effort protecting her like she was some sort of porcelain figure; weak and breakable. She was really touched, but she didn’t suffer through training daily with Sesshoumaru just to sit the last battle out. Inuyasha’s older brother had been relentless and strict after he had offered to improve her skills one day; training her before the crack of dawn and then three more hours later after sunset after they set up camp for the night. She never took any type of karate classes back in her time, and she never actually managed to beat Sesshoumaru in a one-on-one battle, but considering that her sparring partners were mostly youkai, she probably could take down Japan’s taijutsu champion without breaking sweat, no bragging intended. Granted, she suspected that sometimes Kouga and Miroku went easy on her, but those lessons coupled with her spiritual training from the monk had strengthened her throughout the years and gave her the experience that she lacked to further improve her skills. She might not have been as impressive as Inuyasha or Sesshoumaru, considering that she wore her school uniform and was often described as a weird-looking girl in the Sengoku Jidai, but she was powerful in her own right.

In the end, they never would have won without their unexpected trump card. Kagura betrayed Naraku and sacrificed herself to destroy his heart, allowing the combination of Inuyasha’s Kongosouha, Sesshoumaru’s Soryuuha and Kagome’s Hamaya which was powered by Onigumo’s grave soil that finished off the evil bastard.

As the culmination of all three attacks hit the evil hanyou, he began to disintegrate right before their eyes before the pieces turned into flashes of light that resembled a fireworks show. The unexpected allies stood rooted to their spots, enthralled at the sight. After their injuries were assessed and taken care of, they all refused to believe that Naraku was truly gone even after the void from Miroku’s hand disappeared. The evil hanyou had tricked them once before already, so they were suspicious. They were unbelieving even when Kagome retrieved the incomplete Shikon ball that was in Naraku’s possession from a stoic Kikyou. It was too good to be true and the reality that they finally won after years of fighting took longer to process. It was when Sango finally squealed out of character and launched herself in Miroku’s embrace, tears of happiness streaming from her eyes, that the actuality of the situation sunk in.

Naraku was dead, they won.

She never got to celebrate their triumph with her friends though. As soon as she prayed the whole Shikon no Tama back together in one piece, it went and reabsorbed itself back into her body. A blinding light flashed after that, even brighter than the fireworks show that they were privy to before. Several startled shouts echoed out and hands reached out to grab hold of her but all they managed to catch was thin air. The Shikon was complete and the miko was gone.

Kagome awoke in her bedroom when she regained consciousness. Bolting out of her bed in breakneck speed she rushed to the well house, still wearing her pajamas, ignoring her family’s startled looks. Without hesitation she jumped into the well and almost knocked several of her teeth out at the impact of hitting the solid ground. The well was closed; it refused to open for her anymore. She sagged to her knees as she clutched the dirt beneath her hands, digging and praying for the well to let her pass through time once more. Just once, her mind begged, just to say goodbye to her friends.

But alas, the well refused to open. She began to become afraid of the fact that maybe she had just imagined the last three years of her life. She cried; deep wracking sobs that came from her gut bounced off of the walls in her solitary confinement. She never got to say goodbye to any of them. What happened had been so unexpected that she was literally gone before they could all blink. She was never going to see her friends ever again.

Souta came to retrieve her a few minutes later, taking her back to their house and back to bed under orders from their mother. Mama was appalled at Kagome’s rash behavior, scolding her for the scare that she gave them. She found out from her family that they found her lying unconscious at the bottom of the well the day before. Buyo had once again strayed from Souta at mealtime and ended up luring him into the well house. They asked her what happened and she told them about the last battle, and what happened after she put the pieces of the Shikon no Tama together.

Kagome was despondent after that. The guardian of the Shikon no Tama returned to school and to an ordinary life but she still reminisced about her comrades. She hoped that they lived full, happy lives in the past. As long as they were happy, she was too. She felt sorry for not being able to properly say goodbye to them, especially to Inuyasha, who had grown to be the bestfriend a girl could ever have. She had long let go of her silly crush for him, even wished him luck and happiness with Kikyou. It still hurt though, that she didn’t even get to tell any of them how much they mattered to her or how much she enjoyed the last few years of her life, traipsing through Japan’s countryside.

She missed them everyday. She missed her surrogate sister Sango – who was she going to have girl talks with now? Souta was a guy; he didn’t understand the inner workings of a woman’s mind. She missed her kitsune cub – she felt cold sleeping alone in her bed now. She missed Miroku; he was like the perverted big brother that she never had. She missed everyone so much; she even missed her intense training sessions with Sesshoumaru.

Late at night when everything is quiet, she imagined what lives they may have lived. Miroku and Sango probably got married and had lots of babies. She worried about her dear little Shippou, but was confident that Inuyasha or Sesshoumaru would take good care of him and raise him well. Good thing she got them to promise that beforehand. Inuyasha must have settled with Kikyou in the village, living happily ever after. She wondered if any of them were still alive.

Considering that demons had longer life spans than humans did, Kagome began to hope and even imagine the likes of Sesshoumaru showing up on her doorstep one day. Maybe if he was still alive, he would drop by and say hi, catch up on old times. As the years passed, there was no sign of anyone, living dead or youkai, ever showing up to reminisce about past adventures. The young miko was sad, but life had to go on.

Eventually she conquered her sadness. There was still that lingering heaviness in her chest whenever she thought about their last moments together, but she decided to focus on their good times instead. If she made it back in time and the world didn’t seem like it was populated with youkai and was ruled by an evil hanyou, that meant that they completed their mission and her friends lived to the fullest, right?

“Tell me why I let you talk me into coming here again.” She scowled as she pulled on her outfit. This was ridiculous; she should never have agreed to do this even if Cosplaying was a really, really HUGE thing in Japan right now. Almost everywhere you turn, you see kids of all ages wearing costumes from their favorite animé. These people didn’t need to wait for Halloween; they donned their costumes whenever a convention was organized. It had a huge cult following, but she wasn’t really interested in it. Her brother had whined and begged for her to come with him on this particular one though, thus explaining the predicament that she was in right now.

Souta was wearing what looked like a white military uniform of some sort, decorated with blue trimmings, complete a red shirt tucked neatly inside his matching white pants. There was a funny-looking patch on his left sleeve which was an Orb logo, he explained. What “Orb” was supposed to be she didn’t know exactly, but she had a mental image of a ball in her head. He was supposed to be some guy named Kira Yamato, he had patiently explained to her. A superb Gundam pilot, he added. At her blank-eyed look, he went into detail what Gundams were and listed the list of credentials that his hero, this Kira, had. She listened with one ear and the information leaked out of the other. What he was saying sounded totally unbelievable.

Her brother used emotional blackmail into making her feel bad about not spending time with her anymore, and she found herself caving. She didn’t want to go to this convention. She didn’t even watch animé. Her teenage years have been spent mostly in the Sengoku Jidai and there were no television sets or electricity there. She didn’t like putting on a costume as well. One of the reasons why she retained her school uniform to travel around Japan’s countryside in the feudal era was so she would feel normal. She certainly didn’t feel normal now. Since she didn’t have time to get a costume custom made for her like Souta did, she settled on wearing her traditional miko garb. Technically, it really was a costume, wasn’t it? She was going to wring Souta’s neck when they got home; she couldn’t believe she agreed to this nonsense. The bow and quiver strapped to her back, completing the miko look, were a welcome addition though. She felt at home again. The weight of the ‘weapons’ were familiar to her, soothing even.

The modern girl wearing traditional miko garb felt her costume was tame compared to the others. A lot of people were dressed in orange jumpsuits completed with yellow wigs that, she guessed, were supposed to make them look like blondes. The sea of yellow and orange was almost blinding, her eyes hurt from just looking at it. Orange was such a gaudy color. She can’t recall ever owning any piece of orange clothing in her entire life and was thankful for the fact, seeing how these people looked here now.

Her little brother looked really ecstatic, going from one booth to another and taking pictures with other people in costumes as soon as they arrived. He went off to reenact some scenes from a bunch of other people who looked similar to him costume-wise and she found herself wandering around the convention alone, not really having a destination in mind. She giggled at the irony that she almost willingly wore the traditional miko clothing now that she was back in the modern era while she had adamantly refused to do so before in the time when such attire was deemed proper for someone like her. She even fondly recalled that convention they had in school, long ago. Inuyasha had fit in perfectly amongst the crowd with his Tessaiga and red kimono perfectly because lots of people were dressed in costumes as well. Ah, those were the days.

At least her little brother was having a lot of fun, if his inattention to her were any indication. She didn’t mind, she liked seeing her brother happy. It was tough for him too, in a way he also lost contact with the only person he felt had been like the older brother he never had. Kagome knew that she could never fill that role for him.

Stepping outside, she found a quiet spot and sat on a bench. Next time, she should be the one who gets to pick what gathering they go to. It was only fair, after all. There should be a Cherry Blossoms festival soon.

The young miko was lost in her thoughts until a shiver ran through the back of her head straight to her spine. It was bone-chilling and terrifying; it was as if someone’s heart died and there was a huge gaping hole in their chest. It was painfully overwhelming to someone like her; a miko who was honed to be sensitive to the feelings of those around her. She could normally block these feelings out; she wondered why she couldn’t right now. Looking around, she decided to investigate. Maybe someone just got dumped nearby, nursing a terribly broken heart.

Cautiously approaching where the presence of the heartbreak seemed the strongest, she peeked around the corner of the building to take a look and came face to face with a huge youkai. She was so surprised; she stood stock still for a moment. Aside from Mistress Centipede and the Noh Mask, she wasn’t aware that there were other youkai in the city. She just assumed that they were already extinct in her time.

Instincts kicked in as the youkai spotted her and let out a blood-curling howl. Kagome wanted to kick its mouth in and tell it to keep quiet or else people will come running and see them. She settled for rolling over to the side instead, as she avoided its attack. The youkai was at least five times her height, with a snake-like body, two hands and was wearing a white mask. There was also a gaping hole in its chest, fueling her curiosity. What type of youkai was this? She had never seen such a species of demon before. She knew that it took a lot to actually kill demons; Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru often punched each other a new hole through their gut during their sibling fights, but never did they look like this monster in front of her right now. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the monster’s wound wasn’t even bleeding. How weird.

The weird monster lifted its tail again, swinging it around menacingly, reminding Kagome that she didn’t have time to study it up close. She needed to purify it out of here before any innocent bystanders got curious and decided to investigate, ending up hurt or demon food. Expert hands reached behind her for an arrow. She considered not using her bow and quiver, but since they were there and she hasn’t had the chance to show off her skills anymore lately, she decided why not. She could only use bow and quiver on festivals now, entering in contests. Grandpa would probably frown at her for returning the set back with one arrow short, but he would understand after she told him that it was for a good cause, right? She notched the arrow on her bow gracefully and took aim.

The fight was over in an instant as her streaking blue projectile hit the target. It hit the demon right on the mark, dead center of its mask, cutting its intimidating scream off as it disappeared into sparkly dust. Don’t worry, you’re going to a better place now, she assured the youkai silently as she stared as the sparkles faded.

Feeling quite proud of herself and resisting the overwhelming urge to flash a victory sign, Kagome dusted her hands off together and gave herself a mental pat in the back for a job well done. No demon was going to run rampant in this city if she had anything to say about it. Her work here was done. She hooked the bow back to her shoulder, turned to walk back to the convention and ran straight into a brick wall.

“Ow,” she said as she lost her balance and started to fall to her bottom. A hand reached out and caught her before she dropped to the ground.

“Watch where you’re going, will you?” A grumpy voice snapped from behind the wall as a guy wearing flaming orange hair and a black kimono ran past them. “And hurry up!” He added over his shoulder, not waiting for his companion. Was that a real sword strapped to his back?

“Are you all right?” The orange guy’s companion, the wall, asked as he let her arms go after she regained her balance, albeit a little reluctantly. He righted the pair of glasses on top of his nose that had gone askew from their collision. The wall was more than a head taller than her and he probably worked out or something, judging from how her body complained from their unexpected impact. Unlike his companion, his hair was black and it was flat. He was also wearing a white ensemble with a matching cape.

Um, Batman is that you? “I’m alright, sorry I didn’t see you.” She mumbled in apology, looking him in the eye. When did Batman start bleaching his clothes?

A slight blush stained the wall’s cheeks as he fidgeted with his glasses again. “It was my fault,” he said. Right after he grabbed the girl and skin touched skin, he started to feel strange sensations… and a strange craving to taste something.

Was it just her or was he peering at her like she was some sort of candy? She just shrugged and offered him a smile. “I better be going,” she said. “My brother’s probably looking for me by now… and you look like you’re in a hurry.” She bowed in apology. “I’m sorry again, gomen nasai!” Backing away slowly from the weird guy, she waved and then sprinted back to where she last saw Souta.

Ishida Uryuu followed her retreating form with curious, appraising eyes until she disappeared amongst the throng of Cosplayers. Well that was odd. The pleasant sensations humming in his veins started to subside a little when the girl left.

“Huh, how weird,” Ichigo said as he reappeared beside him, hefting his Soul Slayer with a trademark frown on his face.

“What’s weird?” Ishida asked, taking his eyes off of where the girl dressed in traditional miko garb disappeared to.

“I got there and there was no Hollow.” The frown on his face deepened.

The Quincy quirked a brow at him. “And that is a bad thing because…?”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing!” Ichigo snapped. “I’m just saying it’s weird. That’s the first time that’s happened since your so-called intervention years ago.” Orange hair stared at him some more. “Are you sure you’re the last one?”

Ishida bristled. “Sure I’m sure,” he muttered and shook his head. As if his father would actually come to a place like this.

Ichigo shrugged. “Oh well, less work for me so I can’t really complain. It’s too bad I had to run all the way here for nothing though… Oh hey!” He suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the crowd. “It’s that Cosplay convention on TV.” He remembered it from the commercial on TV days ago. “Maybe you should go. You’d win first prize for costume for sure,” he sniggered.

“Shut up,” Ishida said. “This,” he fumed, pointing at his getup, “is not a costume. It’s my family’s sacred clothing, worn by those who have sworn to protect this world from the Hollows.”

Ichigo waved a hand at him dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it, sheesh! No need to give me another lecture about your history.” He shifted to the side, adjusting Zangetsu effortlessly. “So you don’t want go there then?”

Ishida considered his offer for several seconds. Ichigo braced himself for another ‘Pride of the Quincy’ speech. “I’m kind of interested actually. That girl I ran into… she was very… interesting…” and different, his inner self added.

“Girl, huh? What girl?”

“That girl I ran into, remember? You saw her just several minutes ago.” He replied in a deadpan. Kurosaki’s attention span was astounding sometimes.

“Oh her?” He scratched the top of his orange hair, recalling. “Come to think about it, she looked kind of familiar... I wonder who she was dressed up as.”

“She looked like a traditional shrine maiden,” Ishida supplied, looking at the building where an Cosplay convention was held. They didn’t come here to join the convention. Not that Ichigo could at his current condition anyway… well, he could, but what was the point of attempting to play dress-up if normal people couldn’t even see you? Uryuu was examining his new Quincy garb when they felt the familiar presence of a Hollow in the neighborhood. It wasn’t just a normal one, the aura implied that it was a Huge Hollow at least, and he didn’t want to waste time changing to his normal clothes as he rushed out with his Death God friend in his complete Quincy ensemble. The Hollow presence had been a strong one, so he decided to go just in case something went wrong. Why it wasn’t here anymore was a mystery.

“A shrine maiden?” A bird chirped overhead and the wind blew. Ichigo scratched his orange head.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He wondered which character she was supposed to be portraying. “Say Kurosaki, you didn’t feel any strange aura from that girl, did you?”

“Strange?” His brow further furrowed in thought. “I didn’t notice anything, why?”

The last of the Quincy Clan shook his head, letting the subject drop. “Nah, forget it. Never mind, it’s nothing.” The feelings that swirled inside him when he touched the girl weren’t the same as how he had felt for Inoue-san, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. They were almost… well, he didn’t know what they were exactly. The contact was brief but his skin tingled all over. It brought him back to when he first bumped shoulders with Ichigo but not quite. The stress was starting to really get to him.

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The weekend ended too soon for everybody and Monday rolled in once again, giving way to Tuesday and then to Wednesday. By Thursday, the lone Shinigami and Quincy were hanging by mere threads unto their sanity.

Hellish was the first word that came to mind, followed by nightmare and insane. As predicted, this week’s Hollow situation was worse than last week’s. Both were thinking that they were being punished by living hell on earth. They were stuck in a nightmare and if it didn’t end soon, they were going to go insane.

Tonight wasn’t any different; or early morning, considering that it was already three in the morning. The overworked Shinigami just finished strapping his Soul Slayer on his back before he yawned widely. He was so darn tired that caffeine had lost its kick now. His muscles were straining and he didn’t even have to do his daily sit-ups to stay fit anymore. If he hurried, and there were no more Hollow interruptions, he would actually get at least four hours of sleep today, the most he would have for this week. Shuffling his feet, he headed home.

“Hoooo,” said a condescending voice behind him. “Don’t tell me the great Kurosaki Ichigo has gotten so soft during the years that he can no longer keep his head up after just one Hollow.”

Turning around with a visible tick in his forehead, he confronted the newcomer. “Temee, what do you think you’re saying?” He whirled around and glared. A man with the same black clothes as him and a sword attached to his hip was casually leaning against a lamp post, a smirk playing on his lips. He had flaming red hair that was tied into a neat ponytail on top of his head and he was wearing a dark pair of sunglasses.

“I’m saying that you’ve gone soft, Ichigo.” He tugged the sunglasses up to his forehead, covering the intricate markings on his skin and revealing his eyes at the same time. “You look really tired. Long day?”

“Why wouldn’t I be tired, stupid? I have been fighting more than at least three to five Hollows a day FOR THE PAST SEVERAL MONTHS!” He answered almost hysterically, waving his hands in a fit. “I haven’t even seen a single person from the Soul Society help us out! Isn’t there supposed to be someone assigned to this area? Your guys have been slacking off!” He marched right up next to Renji and shouted at his face, the veins in his forehead increasing, and he could almost feel his fangs growing. He finally had someone from the Soul Society here and he had a lot to complain about, darn it. He pointed an accusatory finger right in front of the redhead, a centimeter away from his face. “Just because there’s a local Death God here doesn’t mean that you guys shouldn’t do your job anymore! And where the hell have you been! It has been months since I’ve seen you! And where’s Rukia? Have you been treating her right? I swear, if you haven’t, I’m going to go to Soul Society again and kick your ass!” He panted from his tirade.

Renji blinked at his finger, unfazed. “Gee honey, I had no idea you missed me that much. I promise I’ll try not to go away for too long next time,” the Lieutenant cheekily replied.

“Why you…” Ichigo grabbed a fistful of Renji’s haori and shook him hard.

The redhead merely chuckled, used to the temper displayed by his longtime friend. Disengaging himself easily from the grip, he shook his head fondly. “Rukia’s doing fine. She’s… sorry … she couldn’t come here herself, but Kuchiki-teichou had been uncharacteristically overprotective lately,” probably making up for lost time, he added silently. “He wouldn’t allow his little sister to take up any missions, making me do them instead. So I have been busy too. Heroes get no rest, didn’t you know that?”

Ichigo scoffed. “You’re no hero.”

“I just came to invite you…” Renji continued, not taking the bait.

Renji and Rukia have grown even closer during the last five years, their childhood friendship blossoming into something more, and finally culminated to Renji proposing to Rukia. Rukia had agreed to marry him happily, as the love between the two were as clear as crystal, but being a member of the Kuchiki Clan, there were certain protocol that had to be followed.

Even if Renji had long ago achieved the second stage of his Soul Slayer, the Bankai release, he still chose to remain to serve under the 6th Division under Kuchiki Byakuya. Having achieved both Renkai, the first stage of release, and Bankai, which was the second stage, he was more than eligible to try for Captainship after more training. It normally took at least ten years more until one could be experienced enough to vie for a Captainship, but Renji had declined, saying that being a Captain only gave him more work and more things to worry about. He was perfectly happy where he was right now, and he didn’t want to part from his current squad. Not yet. Not until he surpassed his current Captain. The grudge wasn’t there anymore even if the (one-sided) rivalry still lingered.

The first reason being that after his… slight defection years ago, he and his captain had finally come to a deeper understanding about each other. No one was actually able to tell how the man with the hair noodles ever felt, considering that he hardly ever showed any kind of emotion, but due to the warped almost friendship he had with his captain, Renji did. After years and years of working for him and finally achieving that, the stray dog in him didn’t want to let go of that just yet.

The second reason being that working for Kuchiki-teichou meant that he felt closer to Rukia as well. That was the main reason why he worked hard to join the 6th Squad in the first place, if you didn’t count the obsession to surpass one of the nobles. After Rukia graduated immediately from the academy and got adopted into the Kuchiki household, Renji trained like there was no tomorrow just so he could make it to one of the Thirteen Guardian Squads of the Court of Pure Souls.

“So you’re really getting married?”

The redhead gave him a look, ignoring his question. “It’s a really special occasion so the Drifters who managed to make their way into the Court of Pure Souls last time are going to be allowed to enter Soul Society with special escort this time.”

Ichigo’s left brow lifted in surprise. Were these the same people who wanted to eliminate them just because they wanted to rescue their friend years go?

Renji continued, he seemed to be in a hurry. He specified more details, the time and place, citing his apartment for the pickup. He extended invitations to all the Ryoka, meaning Chad, Ishida and the others were invited as well. “Don’t be late, or else you can’t come.”

“Does this mean I have to get a tux?”

“A.. tux?” The red haired Shinigami echoed, confused.

“You know, for the wedding. Or a formal kimono. I don’t have either one,” Ichigo thought out loud. What did people wear when they went to the wedding of Death Gods anyway? “I could probably rent one, and Ishida, too. And Chad as well. Inoue probably has a dress ready for such occasions so I don’t need to worry about her but I should tell her just to make sure…”

“Just be there.” Renji replied impatiently, breaking Ichigo’s one-sided conversation with himself. He wished he had more time to spend talking around like this, but he had duties to attend to. “The escorts will be prompt, so don’t be tardy.”

“Duh stupid, they’re coming to my apartment so how can I be late?”

Renji glowered at him. “Just be sure to be there! Rukia will be unhappy if you and the others don’t show up to the wedding.”

“Yeah, yeah we’ll be there,” he assured, waving his hand in assurance. He and the others wouldn’t miss this for the world.

“See you in three weeks then,” the Shinigami bid goodbye and then disappeared to the night.

“Hey, wait!” He looked around in search of Renji but the Shinigami was no longer there. He swore loudly. He didn’t know what he could get them for a wedding present. Chikuso.

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She should have just stayed home today. Skipped school, laid back and watched TV all day.

She was doing the same routine she had last week for this week, the only difference was that Kagome felt like someone was following her. She looked around looking for signs of anybody suspicious but everyone around her looked like they were minding their own business, milling about normally. There was that familiar gnawing feeling in her chest again, much like that time when she saw that demon in the convention, but it was somehow faint. As if it was stalking her.

Kagome hugged her protected books closer to her ample chest and crossed the road quickly as the light turned green. She felt so weirded out, all she wanted was just to go home and go to bed. Sleep deprivation can cause paranoia sometimes.

It started raining earlier this morning.

What began as a slight drizzle in the early hours was now a full-blown storm. Hard rain the size of mothballs poured from the unforgiving heavens, bruising the mere mortals on the ground. At this rate, she wasn’t going to be able to go home until the day after tomorrow. Some streets tended to flood when it rained this hard and traffic was a mess. She could take the train and stand shoulder to shoulder with fellow stragglers like her but she was too far away from the station.

She never did like the drowned cat look.

Why did she not listen to the weatherman for just this once and brought an umbrella? Or a raincoat, a raincoat would have been preferable. Umbrellas broke and got blew away by strong winds, like the one barely passing in front of her right now. Yep, a raincoat would have been preferable. Maybe she should bring one with her all the time, especially during the rainy season. Mhm, that was what she was going to do if she ever survived this unforgiving rain.

It wasn’t any consolation that she wasn’t the only one who seemed unprepared for this onslaught either. Who would have? Yesterday had been bright and sunny, without a cloud present in the sky. Nobody believed the weatherman when he said that they were having a hurricane on top of a storm the day after that.

A flash of lightning streaked in the sky followed by the distinct rumble of thunder. She, among with third of the people seeking shelter in the bus stop, jumped. Lightning reminded her of Shippou and the Thunder Brothers. If she wasn’t so cold, soaked to the bone that she was right now, she would have probably felt the familiar pang of missing her little kit right about now.

She shivered instead.

Skirts were so easy to move in, but they absolutely didn’t offer any warmth or protection when she was wet. She was so darn cold, her teeth were chattering. She couldn’t feel her toes anymore. There goes a perfectly good pair of sandals, she thought wryly, wriggling her toes. She stared at them, wondering if they were salvageable.

“Kagome-chan?”

Kagome turned to the voice, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw her cousin. Both girls squealed in glee, in the midst of pounding rain and annoyed people waiting for the darn bus to arrive.

“I thought I saw someone familiar.” Her cousin said.

“Are you taller than me now? Oh my, how you’ve grown!”

“Look who’s talking! Is that really you? When was the last time I came to visit?”

“Too long,” Kagome reprimanded, pulling away from the fierce hug. “You have to visit more often. Mama gets really worried about you, you know.”

Kagome didn’t have a lot of cousins, thus the few she had she was close to, even though they didn’t see each other on a regular basis. The young girl talked to her cousin on the phone a lot whenever she wasn’t gallivanting along Feudal Japan in her early teen years, but she, like everybody else, was under the impression that Kagome had been a very sickly child growing up.

“Oh my, you’re drenched through,” her cousin observed, brows knitting in disapproval. “We have to get you out of the cold as soon as possible!” Her cousin declared, tugging her out of the bus stop and into the pounding rain.

Kagome tugged back. “Wait, where are we going?” She looked longingly at the meager shelter that the bus stop provided. Already, people were taking up the space that she was just forced to vacate. She tried to get her arm back, but her cousin was stronger than her.

“I have friends who live nearby. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we took shelter for one night.”

But I don’t want to take shelter on some stranger’s house, inner Kagome protested. I want to go home! “… Shelter for one night?”

“Someone with delicate health like you should get out of those wet clothes as soon as possible. You can call Auntie and tell her that the roads are flooded and that you’ve taken refuge with me.”

She was right; the chances of being able to go home in one piece did look slim at the moment… Only people who had a death wish would attempt to brave this weather for further travel. “But…”

“No buts, let’s go!” When did she get so bossy? Kagome followed meekly behind the other busty brunette as they braved strong winds and pouring rain two blocks from the bus stop and into an apartment complex. The entrance was soaked, probably due to the tenants coming home totally drenched to the bone.

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to do this?”

“Yes I’m sure. I’ve been friends with these guys since junior high and they’re really nice people.”

If you say so…

They managed to wring the excess water out of their clothes near the entrance, so as not to spread it all over the place and possibly create a puddle for someone to slip on. They didn’t have to take the elevator, opting to climb the stairs to the second floor instead. Hand in hand they stopped in front of a door and her cousin’s knock was answered a few seconds later by a tall, wiry, well-built man wearing glasses.

His eyes widened into saucers at the sight of two very drenched women on his doorstep. He took in one drowned appearance after another and then blinked before recognition graced his features as he turned to his friend. “Inoue-san! What happened to you?”

What was he turning red for?

Kagome sneezed into her left hand, her right still held between Inoue’s dainty ones.

“Excuse me.”

“Bless you.” Uryuu ushered them both in and shut the door behind him. They took their soggy shoes off and set them aside near the entrance. Walking into the bathroom, Uryuu produced several fluffy towels and offered them to both girls, trying his hardest to not look below their faces. Their clothes were plastered to their skin, acting like a mold, accentuating every curve in both their bodies. His friend’s cousin didn’t look anything like her, aside from the both of them being short and well-endowed.

Orihime accepted the towels gratefully from Uryuu and proceeded to pat her cousin dry. “I was on my way home but it was really hard to get any transport. I thought I could stay over at your place at least for the night,” she smiled in apology, “or just until the heavy rain and flooding subside.”

“Of course, Inoue-san,” Uryuu agreed immediately. A real gentleman never turned a lady in need down. “Kurosaki is out for the night and will be back on the weekend so I have the apartment all to myself.” He spared a glance at the stuffed toy lying motionlessly at the couch and then glanced curiously at his friend’s companion.

“This is my cousin, Kagome.” Orihime introduced them. “And this is my friend, Ishida-kun.”

Kagome and Uryuu smiled at each other. “I believe we’ve met before…?” Uryuu prompted.

The young girl had to think for a moment before she nodded in memory. “Bumped into each other is more like it,” she said with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kagome-san.” They shook hands. “I’ve never met any of Inoue-san’s cousins before.”

“Our mothers were sisters,” Orihime explained, rubbing her cousin dry so hard that Kagome’s skin was feeling raw.

“I can dry myself, Orihime-chan.” The girl protested, wrestling the second towel from her to no avail.

“Hush Kagome-chan. Let me take care of you,” Orihime ignored Kagome’s resistance, picking up her third towel. “Kagome-chan’s mama wanted me to live with them after onii-san passed away but I refused to let the apartment go since it made me feel like I was closer to him that way.” She shared as she continued picking Kagome’s wet clothes from her skin and inserting a dry towel under to pat her dry.

Uryuu blinked owlishly at the sight of two attractive girls in his living room, clothes wet and one girl’s hands under the other’s shirt. He brought a hand up to his nose and tilted his head a little bit backwards and upwards, trying his best to will the nosebleed away. That familiar pull wasn’t helping much either. His eyes were rapidly starting to glaze over.

“Ishida-kun,” Orihime prodded him for the third time. The boy looked like he was in a slight daze. “Ishida-kun,” she tried again as his eyes regained their focus. “Would you mind horribly if we were to borrow a couple of bathrobes and nightshirts? We didn’t come prepared for the impromptu slumber party,” she grinned lopsidedly in apology.

No amount of will-power was going to prevent that nosebleed if he didn’t stop the images running rampant through his head. “O-of course, let me go get them for you.” He rushed off to get the said items.

“You don’t need to treat me like an invalid, Orihime, I can dry and change myself on my own. I’m a big girl now,” Kagome flushed from the attention that her cousin was giving her. She wasn’t a baby anymore, even if her cousin was treating her like one.

“I just don’t want you to get sick again, Kagome.” Orihime replied, her voice full of concern. She didn’t want her cousin to catch a cold and keel over. The young woman was so delicate, even more delicate than her.

“You should take care of yourself too, you’re still wet.” Kagome pointed out and then sneezed again. “Excuse me.”

“Bless you.” Orihime finished with her hair. “See, you’re already starting to get sick. What if you get a cold?” She frowned in worry.

Uryuu returned a moment later bearing two fluffy robes and two masculine nightshirts, mumbling an apology. The girls accepted them gratefully, waving his apology aside and giving him an apology of their own for the unexpected intrusion. He repeated that he didn’t mind helping a friend out and that he was going to be alone in the apartment until the weekend anyway, Ichigo had gone straight to his family’s house from class today, spending the weekend there and coming back on Sunday.

As the girls used the bathroom and changed out of their wet clothes to put it on the washer, he prepared some tea to help warm them down. Orihime looked really concerned for her cousin’s health, ignoring the girl’s protests about her being fine and her sneezing was not a matter of concern.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that the shivering is normal as well.”

“Well yes it is. It is cold, you know.” The young miko replied indig


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Creator Comments

Ichigo is now in college & he meets one Higurashi Kagome. Sparks fly as they try to determine what the other is & a friendship blossoms. What happens when a miko and a Shinigami meet?

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