The first time I saw him, I was a small child. Around three years old at the time, and incredibly lost in a forest I couldn't navigate...but honestly, what kind of three year old could? I had been stumbling around on stubby little legs for hours upon hours. Night had fallen, and I was shivering, chilled in the autumn air. Tears had rolled down my cheeks continuously as I had shouted for my father and mother.

And then I saw him.

A flash of silver in the trees, glowing golden eyes that held a certain feral viciousness to them. At the tender age of three, I was clueless as to what "feral" and "wild animal" meant, and that's exactly how I will describe him when remembering that moment. But I had been lost, and any sort of dog would have looked like a comfort to a child. So, on my short legs, not caring or noticing the bared fangs, I'd stumbled forward, reached for him.

His response had been instant. In a rage, he snarled, charging forward and slamming me down. I had howled in pain and surprise, startling the dog just as much as he had startled me. He had backed off for a moment, taking a few seconds to study me. His lips had dropped, and suddenly, he had lowered his nose to sniff delicately at my throat, careful not to scare me any further.

Relieved to have that comfort I'd craved, I had simply squealed, hugging his head.

When my parents had finally found me a day later, I'd been curled up, asleep, against his belly. They'd been terrified until they realized that he had protected me. So, grateful, they'd gathered me to them and thanked the animal before leaving. The one moment I will always remember? Waving goodbye over their tensed shoulders as they carried me away. The dog had watched after me with a tense, anxious look in those beautiful golden eyes.

When the forest's rangers had searched for him a few weeks later, he had vanished.

Three years later, at six years old, I had seen him again. I had been camping with my parents and my newly born little brother. Now smart enough to not stray from my parents side, I had kept close to my father, who had been eager to teach me how to fish. Eager, we'd looked to my mother for permission, and she'd told us to go enjoy ourselves while she fed my brother.

We had fished for hours, laughing and enjoying ourselves. That was when I'd caught my very first fish...and four more. My father had claimed that I was cheating...playfully, of course. Never would he accuse his daughter of any kind of sin.

That night, when my parents were asleep, I had sneaked out of our massive tent to sit by the river I had fished in hours before. I hadn't thought it important to wake them because of the nightmare I had suffered from. I had told them hundreds of times about the man that frightened me, my father's good friend. But they hadn't listened...so my nightmares had continued.

I had been carefully wading among the rocks of the swiftly moving river when I saw him. A man stood on the other side of the water, clothed in old ripped jeans and a frayed T-shirt. He had thick silver hair that looked incredibly soft and was tied out of his face, glowing golden eyes that had looked strangely familiar. But what had caught my attention more than anything else had been the pair of ears perched atop his head. Dog ears, twitching to and fro, pricked to keep track of the forest around us. He had done nothing but watch me with curiosity evident in those glowing eyes.

I had been uncertain of how to react. I had, of course, been told too avoid strangers, but he hadn't done anything to make me suspicious. All he had done was greet me with amusement in those lovely eyes as he lifted a hand, as if saluting me mockingly. I had returned the greeting with a big smile, hesitantly stepping forward.

In an instant, my foot had slipped and I was tumbling into the freezing current. I went with a scream. The water had cut my scream off, my pleading cries silenced as I was drug down into its murky depths. Unable to breathe as its iciness washed over me, black had begun to swim in my vision-

And suddenly, I had been able to breathe. Strong jaws held my collar tightly as powerful legs churned at the icy water, struggling to drag my slim form to the shore. I had coughed, struggling to help keep my head above the water as I saw my father come racing downstream, his eyes round with terror. My mother had been screaming from where she stood, clutching my brother.

Sputtering, I'd begun to cry as I was hauled out of the water. The jaws left my collar and an anxious nose had poked my cheek as my father threw himself down beside me, smoothing my hair and demanding to know just what the hell I had been thinking. Ignoring him, I'd only had eyes for the dog beside us.

His golden eyes had gleamed with just as much protective ferocity that my father's had. His silver fur spiked with water yet not seeming to care, he'd given a soft growl, his tail laying straight out behind him. My father had turned quite suddenly, gently touching the dog's head and ignoring the growl in the dog's throat as he'd thanked him repeatedly for saving my life.

That day, the dog came home with us.

It had been a good few years. The dog hadn't ever seemed the least bit eager to leave our simple suburban home. Even to this day, I will never understand why he didn't. What life could we offer him other than one of imprisonment after years of freedom to run around?

School hadn't been easy for me as a child. I had always struggled in math, and I'd been shorter then most of the girls. That dog had been there constantly to reassure me, to comfort me in my most down moments. When I had cried, he'd always been at my side, licking the tears away. Occasionally, I had found myself wondering about that silver-haired man that I'd seen moments before falling into the river, but could never figure out where he'd gone. And, somehow, in my younger self's imagination, he had formed into the dog.

We had never once given him a name. He was simply a guest in our home, my guardian when my parents couldn't be there. He was rather large for a dog, I would realize years upon years later, when I looked back on these moments. Even at ten years old, his back had nearly been at my shoulder. Often times, he had come up to rest his chin on my shoulder and create a soothing sound that I adored, a sound that would comfort me for many, many years.

He had been my best friend. When he would lay with me in the night, I'd whisper to him about my day, whisper to him stories of princesses and the dragons their knights had to slay to rescue them. He never once complained, simply watched me with those glowing golden eyes, as if entranced by my voice.

One day, when my brother was five, he got sick enough that my mother had felt the need to rush him to the hospital. I was eleven then. My father had been away at work, determined to earn a promotion so that we could perhaps move up in society, and she simply found herself with no choice but to leave me at home alone. With sheets worth of rules, she'd entrusted my safety to the dog.

I hadn't been a stupid child. I was smart enough to keep the doors and windows locked. I had been sitting in the living room, eyes glued to the TV as I leaned into my closest friend's belly, when the door had slammed open, and my father's friend had stumbled in, drunk as can be. I'd shot to my feet, demanding to know how he'd got in as the dog placed himself between us, hackles raised and fangs bared.

"Your father gave me a key. Why don't we sit and enjoy ourselves?" he had purred to me, ignoring the warning snarls directed at him.

"Get out of my house," I'd retorted.

"Don't be that way...come here and sit with me..."

He'd reached for me but had never touched me. My companion threw himself at the man in a blind fury, howling and barking viciously as he had snapped at the man's arms and face. Terrified, he'd fled.

I never saw that man again.

Middle school was horrific in more ways then one. Girls were meaner then ever...aren't they always though? They always seem to be quite the little queen bitches at that age. The dog had still been there, his constant presence a reassurance to me though we both had heard the concern over his lack of aging when passing my parents.

I hadn't cared. He was my friend.

And neither had he. I was his.

There were multiple times that I worried about the way I looked, that I wasn't pretty enough to be surrounded by people who were a thousand times prettier. I had glared at myself in the mirror for hours, trying to make myself thinner then need be. And when I had done that for two or three hours, the dog had been there to push me away and towards the door, outside, where we'd play for hours on end.

Then...one day...he was gone.

I hadn't noticed at first. I'd been too busy with my homework, too stressed to even consider his lack of presence. I'd been so focused, I had only noticed it when my mother had come in, a frown on her face. "Have you seen him?" she had asked.

"Who?" I had answered without looking up.

"The dog. I can't find him anywhere...Sota wants to throw the ball for him..."

I had shrugged, but gotten up to look for him alongside her. He'd been nowhere to be found, and by the time our search had ended, I'd been in tears. I had cried for days afterwards, falling into a depression that would last close to a year. He was gone. The closest friend I had ever had and would ever had was gone.

It had been two years after his disappearance that the new girl had arrived to my school. Sango Nakamura was and still is like no other girl anyone had ever seen. Naturally, the bitchy girls had tried to recruit her into their little squad, but Sango had only had eyes for one girl: me. She'd latched on, and no matter how hard I tried to shake her off, we've been friends for a long, long time.

After her arrival, things had gone quickly. High school loomed, big and terrifying before us. And because of it, I all but forgot about the long lost dog that I doubted I would ever see again.

My father died when I was seventeen years old, killed in a hit and run accident. I had never felt more alone then I had in the year after his death. My mother fell victim to alcohol, my eleven year old brother to the influence of bad children at school. In a fury with fate, I had screamed at Sango, told her to stay the hell away from me, that I never wanted to see her again. I didn't speak to her until nearly three years later, when she had been abandoned by a drug addict of a father.

That year, I remembered the comforting presence that had once been there. The dog that had left and never come back. I had thought of him when I had cried myself to sleep, when I had felt as if there was nothing in the world that tethered me there. I had so badly wanted to leave, to simply die, that I had even gone so far as to open a medicine cabinet. Only Sota walking in had stopped me.

One night, I had been staring emptily at the blank wall beside my bed, my eyes half-closed as exhaustion swam through me. There was no money, I had realized only hours before. My brother would be taken away...I would be taken away from the place I had loved so many years before.

A feather light touch to my hair had confused me. But I was too tired to think anything of it as a gentle yet calloused hand ran through my raven-colored locks. I had simply closed my eyes, taking in the comforting touch without a second thought. I hadn't questioned it. In fact, I never said a word; and he didn't either. I wouldn't be certain until years down the road as to who it was, but that simple touch...that had saved me.

Within a month, my mother was sober, working a job, and Sota's grades had cleared up.

I was even beginning to smile again, to flirt with the handsome blue-eyed boy in the same class as I.

But I never lost the memory of that lingering touch.

Graduation came and went. Happy memories of hugging Sango with tears in our eyes and watching she and her boyfriend, a man by the name of Miroku Takemitsu, kiss lovingly. I had simply smiled gently at the sight. I had no reason to be jealous...but I was. I had never had a boyfriend for some reason. What point was there? I was only going to go off to university anyways...

I had been searching for my mother when I caught sight of silver. My eyes immediately went to it, and a sense of comfort filled me, a feeling I recognized instantly. A man, watching with a sober expression on his face, stood at the back of the crowds, a simple hat sitting perched atop his head. He'd looked miserable, back there all alone. I had been tempted to go speak with him, but when I'd stepped forward, my brother and mother were there to congratulate me.

"I'm so proud of you," my mother had whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Your father would be, too, dear."

"I hope so," I had whispered back, hugging my brother affectionately when he smirked at me. My gaze had darted back to that flash of silver, but it was no longer there. A moment of disappointment filled me. I had wanted to question him, find out why such a sad man was there...perhaps he'd been related to the boy that had died earlier in the year?

Shrugging off my curiosities, I'd gone with Sango and Miroku to a party to celebrate. There had been alcohol, yes, but I'd avoided it. I wasn't into illegal drinking like some were. Miroku and Sango didn't hesitate to plunge in head first. I had left that party early, not wanting to be there to begin with.

I'd been walking home, dressed in a simply summer dress to accompany the warm weather. My heels had been taken off and had been dangling lightly from my fingertips when I had heard a voice call my name. Curious, I had glanced over my shoulder to discover a familiar face staggering after me, drunk. Koga Arakaki, the boy I had once flirted with. I had warily waved at him before starting forward. Koga was known for being relentless when he was drunk...I didn't want to have to face that.

But he was fast and I hadn't been able to escape him. He'd snatched up my wrist before I could do anything, his vioce slurred as he forced me to drop the heels in my hand. I was immediately nervous, gently trying to pry his fingers away. "Koga," I had said, "I have to get home, my mother will be worried."

"Come on," he'd slurred in response, "It'll take two seconds..."

Fearful, I had demanded he release me. When that had failed, I had narrowed my eyes and ground my heel into his foot. He released me with a yelp of pain, then scowled thunderously. Within an instant, pain exploded through the side of my face and I had doubled over, clutching it with shock. He'd punched me, landing a harsh blow on my cheek. My lip had split, and blood had been trickling down my chin and neck when an explosively loud growl filled the air.

"Back off," a deep and hoarse voice had demanded, sounding raspy, as if it hadn't been used in years.

It was the first time I had heard his voice.

Koga had been too stupid to respond with anything other than a snapped "make me". My rescuer had, of course, done just that, materializing out of nowhere with his lips pulled back in an unnatural way, revealing surprising fangs. When Koga had been sent running, he hesitated, and then had glanced back at me. My searching blue eyes had been met by a piercing gold. The familiarity had struck me, and my lips had parted. The man from graduation...and from those years before. He had held the same comforting presence of my ever missing companion.

But I didn't say anything. No, when someone else would have demanded answers, I had simply smiled at him, ignoring the pain of my split lip to say gratefully, "Thank you."

He'd huffed, looked away. "Feh," he had muttered in his gruff voice, and I had giggled before attempting to mop up the blood on my chin and lip. He had watched out of the corner of his eye without a word, just standing there, and I had grinned at his protective stance. I had no idea who this man was, but I had trusted him.

He had walked me home that night, saying nothing. He had still worn those old jeans and that T-shirt of his, that had atop his silvery head. When I had reached the steps that led onto my home's porch, I had turned to thank him again, but he'd been gone, as if he hadn't existed.

Nevertheless, I had whispered into the air. "Thanks."

I had been in a rush. I had been late to my university class because of a broken alarm clock, and wouldn't have even noticed if I hadn't tripped and dropped just about everything in my arms. I had been gathering them off the hot sidewalk when a flash had caught my eye. I had glanced up, and found, to my surprise, a silver-haired man hanging easily among the branches of the tree. The same man that had saved me only a few years before from Koga, who had at this point been in prison for some reason or another. He didn't seem to look as if he'd noticed me, but somehow, I had known. He was there because I was. Smiling at him, knowing he knew I knew he was there, I had finished gathering up my books and left to get to class.

When I had stepped out of the classroom with Sango at my side, he'd been there. He still hadn't changed his clothing, but the hat he had been wearing had been replaced. I had shrugged, ignoring it. Sango had demanded to know who he was, if I secretly had been dating someone and hadn't told her, and I'd rolled my eyes before waving a farewell at her and smiling at the silver-haired man again. "Are you here to walk me home?" I had asked, shoving a textbook into my bag. I had rented out my own apartment a few blocks away so I wouldn't have to spend money on transportation.

His golden eyes had darted to my face, remaining there for the briefest of moments. Then he had given a curt nod, looking away without saying a single word. I had smiled, simply happy that he had decided he might as well come down from his hiding holes. I had shifted my backpack into its proper place on my back, then started forward, my hands folded behind my back. It had been chilly; that winter was a mild one, however, with plenty of warm weather. I had looked over to him with a hesitant smile on my face when we had reached the building I lived in, I had hesitantly touched his arm. He'd jumped as if he'd been electrocuted, gaze darting to my face, eyes round with shock. Ignoring his surprise, I had smiled. "Would you like to come in for a bit? I want to thank you for what you've done in the form of a meal..."

He huffed. "Fine," he had mumbled, avoiding looking at me, and I had laughed.

I had fed him that night, and the next, and the next. Soon, he had begun to come to pick me up every day, and Sango had grown crazily irritated, demanding to know who he was. I'd simply told her the truth: I didn't know, but he was a good man that I felt the need to feed. So she'd left me be, focusing on her engagement with Miroku.

"You know," I had said one night after we had walked to my home. "I don't know your name...can I ask what it is?"

He'd glanced to me. "...Inuyasha," he'd finally muttered. And then he'd been gone, just as quickly as he'd arrived. He hadn't come to pick me up the next few days, and I'd been devastated. I'd grown used to his company, loved it.

But after a few weeks, I saw something else instead: a silver dog with piercing golden eyes roaming the school grounds. And the day that dog showed up to wait by the door for me, I'd known. The dog I had cared for so long ago was Inuyasha. They were one and the same. And I hadn't been freaked out, hadn't given a single shit about it. I was happy. I had my closest friend back. I had simply patted his head before starting for home.

He hung around quite more often after that. Sometimes he'd be in that dog form of his, sometimes in his humanoid form, and I hadn't cared which one was with me. He'd begun to hang around in the evenings, watching the television with me.

I hadn't been that happy for a long time.

After I graduated from university, I busied myself with putting a use to the degree I'd worked so hard to obtain. Often times, Inuyasha would simply sit on the couch, watching me with curious eyes as I'd rushed around on the phone or sat beside him with a laptop perched in my lap. Somehow, we'd grown closer. He had been so willing as to even place his head on my leg when he was in his dog form, and I would reach to scratch behind his ears.

Sango and Miroku's wedding had loomed above me like nothing else ever would. My family would be going as well, and my mother had told me that she expected a date. I had complained about it to Sango and she'd smirked, simply telling me to ask him, whoever him was. I'd bit my lip before giving in and following her suggestion.

I had been sitting beside him on the couch, the laptop perched in my lap like it usually was. I had been tapping away when I'd fallen into thought, and the sound had slowed to a halt...something his sharp senses noticed immediately. He'd glanced at me, gaze showing his concern and I'd sighed before twisting to face him, my face serious. "Inuyasha?" He'd arched an eyebrow to show he was listening and I had to fight back the urge to laugh. "I need some help with something... Two of my friends' wedding is coming up and I need someone to go with me. Would you?"

He'd fallen silent, his golden eyes turning away and back to the running TV as he thought over it. Then he'd mumbled, "I can't."

The memory of that deep tenor will always make me smile. He had rarely spoken then, and it had always been a treat to hear his voice. Immediately annoyed, I had asked, "Why? It won't kill you. You'll just be sitting there doing nothing for most of it. I'll make up some excuse so that we don't have to go the reception party."

He had only shook his head. "I can't," he'd repeated, waving lazily to the hat on his head. He had never taken it off, not even when we were alone in my home. Hesitantly, I'd reached over, taking that as an invitation.

Sure enough, a pair of swiveling dog ears had been hidden by the hat. I had tilted my head thoughtfully, tapping my lip thoughtfully to come up with a way that he couldn't refuse. "Please?" I'd finally said, "We can figure out how to hide them. I'll get you a new hat...in fact, I'll get you some new clothes." I'd pulled lightly at the very same T-shirt he'd never seemed to change out of. "It'll be nice."

So we had gone shopping. He would complain about that for years afterwards, and when it was over, he'd disappeared for a solid week before he'd come back, annoyed. I had been so relieved that he hadn't abandoned me permanently, I'd thrown my arms around his neck in a tight hug, demanding to know where he'd gone.

It turned out he hadn't left because he was angry. He'd wanted to return my kindness. With the only thing he knew how to do. I hadn't been upset or disgusted by the raw meat carefully placed in my sink. Somehow I had known he wasn't from the civilized world; all he could do was hunt. So I'd simply patted his cheek affectionately and cooked the meat. I remember it being amazingly delicious for some reason...all though that might have been accompanied by a certainty that he would go with me to the wedding.

At the wedding, most of the guests - the women anyways - couldn't seem to take their eyes off of him. I'd purchased him a fitted suit, and fussed over it affectionately as he made sure those ears of his were covered. I, myself, had been dressed in a floor-length red dress that was simple yet beautiful at the same time. The fabric had seemed to flow along the lengths of my hips, the back dipping all the way until the bottom of the middle of my back. I had tied my hair up with care, and I snickered every time his gaze darted to my bared throat, unable to help himself. He'd been a possessive man that night, keeping me close and glaring every time a man approached, eyeing me.

When we'd got home, he'd simply thrown himself upon the couch, removing the hat for once and giving me a look. I had placed my hands on my hips after brushing some dark hair from my cheeks, my blue eyes amused. "Come on," I had told him, "Tell me. Did you have at least a little fun? You looked like it when we were dancing."

Yes, I'd given in to Sango's pleading that we go to the after party. Inuyasha hadn't protested, had merely let me slip my fingers into his and told me that he wouldn't go off with anyone else. I'd kissed his cheek gratefully, shocking myself with the action, but his reaction had stirred something strange within my belly; he'd given me a look of pure want, those beautiful eyes smoldering with a hungry look.

He had huffed at my words, standing again. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes, as he had been a good foot or so taller than my petite adult self. Never dropping my gaze, he'd reached around my head, tugging lightly at the pins that kept my hair up. I had blinked in surprise when raven locks had tumbled from their carefully arranged position, but he had simply arranged my hair around my bared shoulders and neck, a soft growl in his throat. "I don't want them to see you," he'd said simply in explanation, the claws that tipped each finger skimming my skin lightly and making me shiver before he had pulled back, retreating to the couch for the rest of the night.

"Thank you so much," I had cried as I hung up the phone, whirling around to face the bare foot and shirtless Inuyasha, a beaming smile on my face. He'd shoved his hands into his pockets, his face curious. I hadn't been able to help myself, and had thrown my arms around his neck, shocking him into stillness. "I did it!"

He'd thoughtfully skimmed his claws down the length of my back, blinking curiously. "Did what?" he had asked as I shivered under his touch. He'd smirked, a proud look crossing his face.

I had pulled back, still clutching his shoulders as I'd beamed up at him. "My design...it's official! Someone accepted my idea and it's going to be made and sold around the world, Inuyasha!"

He had frowned, not understanding what there was to be excited about. But nevertheless, he'd let me celebrate by pulling out the wine. I had poured myself a glass, and then one for my constant protector. Showing him how to do a "cheers", I had then proceeded to chug the entire thing down. Inuyasha had taken one sip and then made a face, handing the glass back. He hadn't liked the wine, so I'd taken it and drunk his, too.

Within a year, my designs went global, and with the money, I had purchased my own house on the edge of the city. Sango, recently discovered to be pregnant, had called to congratulate me - she and Miroku had moved to another city for his work after their wedding. My mother had been ecstatic at the news, and had immediately hunted down my designed clothing, which was sold out almost immediately.

I had been around twenty six years old at the time. Inuyasha, as he always would be, had been seemingly ageless.

As time went on, Inuyasha had grown more and more restless, more and more irritable. Sometimes, I'd come home and he would no longer be there, disappearing off to who knew where. When he had come back, he'd usually been a nearly feral dog. I had been so confused, I'd backed off, leaving him alone and withdrawing into my own little shell. My mother had noticed the difference instantly, but what could I tell her? My roommate was a dog-human thing that was pissed off with me for some reason?

One day, he had snapped. I had been humming, typing away on my laptop as I'd e-mailed the people that sewed the clothes I designed, Inuyasha sitting on the other side of the couch in his humanoid form, his beautiful eyes locked on the opposite wall with his face set in a permanent scowl. I had given a sigh; setting aside my computer, I'd turned to face him, ignoring the growl that thundered in his throat. "Inuyasha?"

"What?" he had barked, his ears pinned to the top of his head.

I had frowned, annoyed by his attitude. I'd let this man in my home for years, fed him, kept him company...not sexually, of course. But I had thought myself to be his friend. "What's wrong?" I'd said softly.

"Nothing."

"It can't be nothing, you've been angry with me for weeks now...did I do something? I'm sorry if I did...I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't do anything."

"Then why-" My answer was cut off with a cry of pain. I had reached out to lightly touch his shoulder, and he'd roughly shoved me away, lips purled back in a snarl. Underestimating his strength, he'd slammed his clawed hand into my arm, a sharp snapping coming from it. Clutching my arm desperately to my chest, I'd shot to my feet, taking a few steps back.

He had never hurt me before. Never. Confused and pained tears had rosen to my eyes as he stared at me with shock, tensed and uncertain. He had looked look a child as he sat there on my couch, eyes round with confusion. He hadn't understood what he'd done. I was once again reminded that despite the years of remaining with me, he wasn't civilized. He had left every now and then to hunt for meat that he'd bring back and let me cook.

"What's wrong?" he'd asked, hesitant to speak as he had stood. He had reached out, trying to pull me closer, but I had backed away rapidly, tears rolling down my cheeks as I'd shouted at him to stay away from me, to not touch me, dammit!

"Get out," I'd whispered, glaring at him angrily from my watery eyes. A whine had left his lips, as if he couldn't believe what I had said. I still don't know why I made him leave, but I was hurt and it had made sense at the time. And he'd left without a word.

I hadn't seen him for weeks after that. My designs had fallen to an all-time low, not selling, although that may have been because of the cast I had supported at the time.

But then, one day, after a long day of visiting my brother and twenty year old brother, I had come home to blood everywhere on my front porch, to the door hanging open. Horrified, I had stepped inside, and nearly tripped over the massive silver dog that had lain sprawled out on my floor, heaving for air. Nasty wounds had been inflicted on him, and his golden eyes had been half-open, half-crazed with the pain. I had dropped everything, kneeling beside him with a cry. I couldn't take him to an animal doctor, he'd been too damn big! So, I had steeled my fear, my nerves, and I'd gathered up the supplies that I needed to bandage him up.

He'd slept on and off for a few days after that, his wounds healing at incredible rates, unlike my cast-covered arm. When at last I'd come home from shopping for food to a weak yet humanoid Inuyasha, I'd demanded to know what had happened.

Hunters, he had reported. Hunters had caught sight of him and fired off, believing him to be a wolf. Which had brought up the question of what exactly he was. He'd been reluctant to answer, but had eventually told me.

"Youkai," he'd said gruffly. "Inu-hanyou, actually. Got 'nough power to change forms though." Youkai rarely existed now, he'd told me. They had vanished throughout the centuries, dying off one by one with reluctance to combine their blood with humans. I had been surprised to learn that he actually had family, a single half-brother that had threatened to kill him should he ever see Inuaysha again.

When he'd questioned about the cast, I'd explained. He'd been horrified by what he'd done, had stared speechlessly at me with grieved eyes as I'd reassured him that it didn't hurt anymore, that it would heal.

That night, I'd fallen asleep curled up on the bed beside a drowsy hanyou, who'd run his claws gently through my hair in a comforting motion I distantly had recognized.

I had stared at the doctor, stunned as he'd explained gently what they had found. I'd gone in simply to get my cast removed, but they'd discovered something concerning: a lump on one of my breasts. Asking if they could look into it, I'd allowed them to. But with the news I had received, I had wished I hadn't. I had breast cancer. At twenty six years old, nearly twenty seven, I had breast cancer. The doctor had been kind, had explained all of my choices and what I could do, and I had agreed that surgery would be the first thing. The doctor believed they could remove it without an issue, that it still remained in one area.

I had stumbled through the front door in terrified tears, met by a frowning Inuyasha. He'd demanded to know why I was crying when I should have been excited to have the cast off, and I'd simply pressed myself against his chest, burying my nose against his throat and pressing my lips against the sun-kissed flesh there for comfort. Through my tears, I'd explained what I had, what it was.

He'd been furious. I had been something he couldn't protect me from, and he understood that, but it upset him even more that he could do nothing to help me. In an attempt to soothe him, I'd pressed my lips to his...and suddenly, we were engaged in a heated moment, his lips moving against mine, his teeth nipping harshly at them. But then he had pulled back. He hadn't wanted to take advantage of my emotional moment, he'd tell me later. I had been fragile and he didn't want to hurt me anymore then he already had.

Over the next few weeks, I had prepared for my surgery.

Inuyasha had been just as concerned as I had, had helped me as best as he could. But he didn't know what to do at that time. He hadn't known how to cook, how to work the shower. Don't get me started on how he kept that hair clean, that will always remain a mystery to me.

When my surgery had arrived, it went without an issue. I had returned home with firm orders to rest for a week or two a few days after, as the lump hadn't been all that big and the doctors had reported the cancer apparently gone. Inuyasha had been there at the door to meet me, glowing golden eyes searching my own anxiously. I had called for a taxi to drive me home, and they'd driven off long before I'd reached the house, thank God. I didn't want to explain the dog ears that were pinned against his head.

The second I was close enough, he'd hesitantly wrapped me in his arms, tucking my head under his chin and winding his arms around my waist. He'd been so very careful to not hurt me, and I had drowsily leaned into him. I was exhausted. I had wanted to sleep so badly, that I'd fallen asleep against him, standing up.

The cancer hadn't come back.

At thirty years old, I had decided it was time for me to move on in my life. I had always wanted to have a family. The issue with this, however, was the slowly increasing possessiveness of my hanyou protector.

One night, while eating supper, I had told him, "Inuyasha, can you fend for yourself tomorrow night? Dinner, I mean." He'd shrugged, nodded, demanded to know why. "I'm having dinner with someone tonight...a date."

The table was flipped alongside his chair, food thrown everywhere in the seconds before he'd disappeared from the room. Mourning the loss of my food, I'd stormed after him, demanding to know what his problem was, but I'd been met with silence. He'd left the house, wouldn't come back for a few days.

The date had come and gone without incident, but it had been oh so boring. Hojo had been kind and sweet, but there hadn't been the spark Sango, now mother to a pair of twin girls, had described to me. I only felt anything like that around Inuyasha, and I severely doubted anything would ever go further between us, though I wouldn't have complained if it had. I had returned home to a stony silent silver dog sprawled out across my queen sized bed, giving me a dirty look and daring me to move him.

I hadn't said anything, merely shook my head tiredly and moved to grab clothes out of the closet to change into. Turning away from Inuyasha with a roll of my eyes, I had reached for the door, only for a muscular body to suddenly press my own into the wood. A low growl had thundered in my ears, vibrating against my back and shoulders as hands had caged me, resting on each side of my head. "I-Inuyasha?" I'd stammered nervously, my voice cracking when I had realized he was naked. He would tease me for my shyness later; I fondly remember my response now a days.

Gruff, as if he hadn't been sure of how to answer my words, he'd mumbled in my ear, "You don't need those damn men, woman. You've got me. You're mine. Thought you knew that by now." He'd dropped that silvery head, his ears twitching as he had skimmed sharply pointed fangs along my shoulder. Unable to help myself, I had tilted my head to give him further access, my eyes fluttering shut.

I had moaned softly when he'd pulled me back firmly against him. That night, we'd danced. His usually strong hands and sharp claws had been gentle. Of course, there had been a bit of blood, but come on! Why wouldn't there? He was hanyou and had sharply tipped fingers!

I hadn't gone on any more dates after that. In fact, I rarely went out at all after that night. If I had, he was usually with me, keeping sharp eyes on what he considered "his". When Miroku and Sango had come to visit, he'd worn a hat, but Sango's eyes had sparkled knowingly as she asked when the wedding date was.

I had scoffed.

But a few weeks later, I'd thought differently. We'd been together multiple times since that first night and I remember his constant apologies for the small scratches he made with his claws. I had been feeling unwell for a while, and he'd somehow known. He'd stopped making suggestively lewd comments, stopped touching me in ways that lit my blood on fire. Instead, he only became more possessive, protective.

I found myself more emotional. I hadn't understood why until that first kick. It had scared the hell out of me. I'd woken up in an instant, a cry escaping my lips. Within seconds, my hanyou lover was peering into my face, his golden eyes gleaming anxiously. "Are you alright?" he'd demanded, worry making his face taunt.

I'd wanted to kill him at that moment. We would laugh at that later, alongside the child that was born a mere seven and a half months later.

Then came the point that we just couldn't do it anymore. Living even here, just beside the city, it was dangerous. My mother often dropped in as a surprise, eager to see our child. Inuyasha mysteriously disappeared with our young son every time she showed up.

One night, we had discussed the matter.

I had fretted over both of them, scratching lightly at the ears that our son had inherited from his father. He'd been curled up against my chest, snuggled comfortably against me. Inuyasha had scoffed, saying that we'd never be found out.

But then we were.

My mother had walked in one day, out of the blue, and she'd stopped dead in her tracks when she had come across Inuyasha, whose ears had been flicking this way and that, thinking I was her. Her horrified scream as she took in the family I'd somehow ended up with had solidified my decision.

It was time to leave.

Though it had been my choice, I had been nervous. I didn't know how to survive in the woods like Inuyasha did...how would I live? "I'll protect you," he'd said eagerly, excited to be returning to the place he'd once called home. It had been a long time since I'd last seen his dog form, I realized then. Most of the times we'd been together, keeping each other company anyways, he looked like this. "I'll teach you and our pup."

"Son," I had corrected, kissing the younger boy's head. He'd purred, nuzzling me before falling back asleep.

We'd left that house without hesitation. My family would never find me. I would never see Sango again. But I was happy. More than happy. I'd had my son, I'd had his father, and I would stay with them forever. Inuyasha had built us a home in the middle of nowhere, had taught me how to tell what berries were good and what wasn't. He went hunting every day, returning with meat for me to cook. Occasionally, when clothes became unwearable, he'd run off to the city, returning with stolen fresh ones and the occasional newspaper.

As I said before, I had been happy. I had my family and needed nothing more.

I should have known, I realize now as I struggle to breathe. My forever was not the same as theirs. He and our children - I had given birth to a second child, a daughter - were hanyou and I was human.

I had known Inuyasha since that day I had been lost in the woods as a toddler. He had nearly killed me then, but in a change of heart, hadn't. So many memories race through my mind, that being the starter of them all.

"I love you," he whispers shakily into my ear. Our children kneel on my other side, their eyes shining with tears. Inuyasha had been able to protect me from many things, but age was something he couldn't prevent. Nobody could. "I love you."

I struggle to lift my hand, to press my wrinkled fingers against that smooth flesh of his cheek. I can't speak, it hurts too much to, but he understands. My son whines softly, a sound he rarely makes now a days. My daughter leans into her brother, quivering as she seeks comfort. Inuyasha whispers sweet words to me, something I had once thought him incapable of. He tells me of the times we enjoyed, how thankful he is for finding me in those woods as he strokes my whitened hair.

I choke, pain racing through my chest as a metallic taste fills my my mouth. I don't have much time left. My hand drops from his cheek.

I have known and loved Inuyasha for nearly eighty five years. And despite my death, I know I will continue to do so.

"I love you," he repeats, voice cracking with grief that already shows. "I love you, Kagome."

I breathe my last breath and know no more.

(A/N)

So...uh...yeah. No idea how the hell this turned out the way it did, but I find myself loving it. The idea for this literally stemmed from my boredom while working on combining music together into a medely. Was in the middle of something, thought of the word "dog", and abandoned it all to work on this. Lol. Only me. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it. :)