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The More Things Change	By : inumom Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > InuYasha/Kagome Views: 2401 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

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Disclaimer: I don�t own anything here but this rather twisted take on exactly why Inu acts like such a brat sometimes.

The More Things Change

1. Strange Times

A young woman of nearly nineteen years emerged from a small building on the grounds of the Higurashi family�s Sunset Shrine. Slamming the sliding door shut with unnecessary violence, she stalked to the house in which she had lived for her entire life. Opening the door, she was relieved to see that nobody was home: she really didn�t feel like explaining exactly why she had returned home in such a foul mood.
Dragging herself and the tattered yellow bag she carried up the stairs, she dropped the nearly empty bag on the floor, giving the innocent luggage a vicious kick. Grabbing her robe from the hook on the inside of her closet door, she vanished into the bathroom down the hall.
By the time she finished with the hot shower, a luxury she genuinely appreciated after spending most of the past four years bathing in nearly freezing lakes and streams (with only the occasional hot spring as a special treat), she was feeling much more herself. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she held her head in her hands, mentally kicking herself for making such a scene in the first place.
After all, it�s not like she hadn�t been through the same argument before. With only a couple of exceptions, she had been going through it on an almost weekly basis since her fifteenth birthday, when a centipede youkai had dragged her into the dry well in the shrine�s well house. Sadly, she couldn�t even really blame the grumpy hanyou for his tirades--she had always known what he was like: because of the harsh treatment he had received at the hands of humans and youkai alike, he had long found it impossible to trust anyone. After months of traveling together in an attempt to recover the fragments of the Shikon no Tama that she had accidentally shattered, she had begun to notice that he had started to treat her with at least a little kindness instead of cold indifference or open hostility.
She had often had to argue--or bribe--her way home to occasionally attend school. Even though her grades in English and math had suffered, her scores in history had improved dramatically. Somehow, she had managed to graduate from high school only a couple of months ago. Naturally, the hanyou she had come to love had been enormously happy: as he saw it, she no longer had a reason to abandon their group and return through the well portal to that strange future world she still thought of as her home.
*Damn woman*
At the sound of the voice, she glared at the tree outside her bedroom window, half expecting to see him lounging on the branch, ready to bully her into returning with him before she was ready. Surprisingly, the branch he favored was empty. Leaning out the window, she scanned the entire property, shaking her head when she found no sign of the brilliant red haori and hakama he habitually wore.
She rubbed at her temples, trying to ease the headache that was threatening to explode behind her eyes. Great. Now she was hearing things on top of everything else. Stopping to think about it, she considered the possibility that what she had heard had actually been her own guilt. The fact that her guilty conscience had been speaking with the impatient, arrogant, rude, obnoxious hanyou�s voice was not lost on her. She wondered, for perhaps the millionth time in the past four years, why she couldn�t allow herself to forget that he ever existed and just move on with a normal life.
The answer came as it always did. She�d never allow herself to forget him--she loved him too much despite the fact that he didn�t return her feelings.

*

A silent figure in the purple and black robes of a low-ranking Buddhist monk walked along the dusty path leading from the small village toward the forest named for the half-demon that had been sealed there nearly five and a half decades ago. He was genuinely disturbed by the events of the morning, and decided that the hanyou owed his friends at least a partial explanation for his appalling behavior. He walked along, listening to the merry jingle of the rings at the head of the staff he carried, at a complete loss to explain his friend�s recent behavior.
His pace slowed as he reached the top of the small rise formed by the meadow in which an old wooden structure was the only feature marring the pristine beauty of the landscape. As he had suspected, his quarry was there, kneeling next to the old well, hands gripping the edge, head down and leaning against the splintered side of the structure.
He didn�t bother to announce his presence--the hanyou�s acute senses had surely detected him before he ever reached the grassy field. The tormented figure stood slowly, hands gripping the edge of the well with enough force to leave deep gouges in the wood from his formidable claws. When he spoke his voice was cold. �What the hell do you want, monk?�
The monk�s usually jovial manner was equally cold. �An explanation will do for a start. Just what were you thinking?!? You had absolutely no right to treat her like that--she has done nothing for nearly four years but put up with your bad temper, your insults, and your constant chasing after your dead miko. You,� he said, fighting down the urge to take a swing at the hanyou�s head with his staff, �Are not the injured party in this.�
The aggression seemed to disappear from the lean frame as the hanyou turned around. Something was subtly different about him, but the monk couldn�t determine exactly what it was. �She lied,� he said.
Miroku frowned slightly: he thought back to all of the group�s previous conversations leading up to the explosive fight of that morning, then shook his head. �I don�t remember her ever being dishonest, even about the smallest of things. When did this happen?�
The young hanyou seemed to shrink in upon himself. When he spoke his voice was quiet, almost painful in its intensity. �She said she was done with that �school� of hers--that she wouldn�t have to be going back all the time.�
Suddenly understanding the entire disagreement, the monk shook his head. �Surely you didn�t think that she would completely abandon her family in the other world and never go back, did you? She explained that this was an important day for her family--her mother�s birthday--and that she would only be gone for two days. Look,� he said, resting a cautious hand on the shoulder of the distressed hanyou, �If it bothers you that much, go and see her and talk to her about it. She�s a kind and forgiving woman: she�ll get over your little fight in no time.�
The hanyou�s voice took on a dangerous edge. �No. The bitch made it extremely clear that she didn�t want me there--she�s probably sneaking around with some human bastard even as we speak. Why the hell should I go crawling over there begging for her forgiveness?�
Surprised by the sudden shifts in mood, the monk backed away. �Maybe you�re right,� he said. �This might not be the best time to see her.�
With a great deal to think about, Miroku slowly made his way to the village and the one person who might be able to shed a little light on the situation.

*

�That doesn�t make sense.� The youkai taijiya shook her head as the monk related his conversation in the meadow with the belligerent hanyou. �He cares about her--more than he values his own life--and you say he�s accusing her of two-timing him?�
�I don�t understand it myself. It was like I was talking to two or three different people. I�ve never seen such a thing.�
The old woman sitting next to the fire shook her head. �I have. Sometimes when something happens that is too terrible to handle people will insulate themselves from the pain by creating extra personalities who are able to cope with the situation. These extra �selves� seem to be completely independent of each other, but exist--not always peacefully--within the same physical body. It is a very rare thing,� she said, looking even more troubled. �I have never before heard of a youkai being bothered by such a condition.�
A small figure who had been sitting unobtrusively in a corner of the room spoke up, his child�s voice in stark contrast to the gravity of the matter being discussed. �They�re not. If anything�s bad enough to bother a youkai, he�ll kill it, or it�ll kill him--they don�t react the same way that humans do.�
The old miko nodded in agreement. �That is also how I understand things, Shippou. You must all remember that Inuyasha is not entirely youkai--perhaps his human side is coming under attack from some force that we do not yet understand.�
Further conversation was halted by the sudden appearance of the hanyou in the doorway. �Oi, Babaa--is there anything to eat?�
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The More Things Change