Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leverage

"Mama?" Souta panted, peering over the top of the giant paper bag in his arms. "These stairs are murder."

She paused and tucked her own bag of groceries under her arm. Her boy needed encouragement, apparently. Stretching her free arm to ruffle his hair, she smiled wryly and said, "We're almost there."

"Yeah, after five trips…"

"We needed groceries, Souta."

"… up and down what… six hundred steps?"

She sighed. "I'm guessing you won't want dinner then."

"Why couldn't grandpa help us?" Souta grumbled, eyeing the remaining stairs with pure loathing. "I'm sure his walking stick would help him instead of make him fall, or anything like that."

As soon as he reached the safety of the top step, Souta received a sharp rap to the head.

"Ow-!"

His mother leveled him with a stern look. "Souta, stop complaining. You know as well as I do that your grandpa has been having problems."

"But the cane gives him leverage-"

"Souta!"

"… Fine."

He fidgeted a moment under her disapproving gaze. After a moment she sighed and proffered a hand, looking wearier than he had ever seen her. Her hair still shone black, her eyes were as brown as ever, and there only a few wrinkles of her face, but the way she hunched over after picking up a bag, or the way her feet dragged at the end of the day – everything. Everything was slow.

"Good. Now give me your bag – and do me a favor, will you dear? There's one more left in the truck. Don't worry," she added, misinterpreting his intent as he open his mouth to speak. "It's light, so you won't have too much of a problem with it."

Souta nodded and willingly dumped the bag into her outstretched arm. Flashing her a small smile, he turned and began he lengthy trip back down.

She was tired, she had to be. While she maintained some youth about her, grandpa was getting old, fast. Equipped with a new staff and "extra-strength" sutras, he had made it his business to amble around the house and cleanse certain "unholy" objects. But with the unnecessary trips came accidents, usually in the form of falls. One time, Souta made the mistake of leaving an old baseball on the floor in the hallway.

That damn cane came out of his allowance that day.

But, it changed everything if they would -

Souta jumped down the last two steps and walked quickly down the sidewalk, where his mother had parked the pick-up truck for convenience. Reaching in for the last paper bag, he moved his hand about the back and found…

Nothing.

Souta barely missed the truck tire with his foot, and ended up kicking up dust. After a few minutes of contemplating just whyhe was so grumpy, he sulked all the way up the shrine steps.

And sitting there, looking innocent for all the reasons that really didn't apply, was the last bag of groceries.

"…"

For a minute, he just stood there.

Then, Souta grabbed the bag and went inside. He didn't bother to think of why his mother might have left a bag outside when she was carrying them all inside, or how it might have magically teleported itself to their doorstep. Perhaps his grandfather used his super holy powers and purified its paper tush up the stairs. Or maybe, this was all just God's way of having fun with him when everything was down.

It all seemed rather unimportant, though, when he caught a nose full of delicious, rewarding tensoba.

The door shut with a click, and a tall figure stepped forward to lean against the dusty red truck. Arms folded against his chest, he gazed at the windows and counted the number of lights on in the house.

Two.

Which meant that she was not home.

Which meant that he would have to wait.

With one last glance at the front door, the shadow of the person turned from the shrine, away from the entire place in general, and disappeared. But not before a small, odd smile.

"You're welcome."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Sorry for the fairly crabby Souta. He is grumpy for a much more important reason, though, that will be explained in future chapters. So yeah, it's not just carrying bags that's got his down. So! What do you think? Like the story so far? Have any comments? Flames? Constructive criticism? Opinions? Please everyone, I eat them all up.

Review (please)!