By Momiji Hime

"Ah, good morning, sleeping beauty. What's got you up so early?"

"I got a lot of sleep last night." Momiji falsely admitted, kneeling next to Kunikida, who was hunkered down on the backyard deck. She watched curiously as he hummed some old tune, weilding a pantbrush in his right hand.

"Mmm, good girl." Kunikida grunted those words pleasantly, satisfaction evidident, using strong, sure strokes to paint the surface an even, soothing green. "You've certainly needed it, although where you're getting it-"

"Much, much better, Kunikida-san. I slept really well. That's all I did. Sleep."

He cleared his throat, grateful that Momiji had managed to soothe his nerves without him having to formally bring the subject up. As far as he was concerned, he'd rather her sleep in the drive-in garage, without a mattress or blanket before she got into bed with any man, but Ryoko kept him from making any noise about it, so he was pretty much stuck, therefor he kept the subject on track. Sometimes he marveled at the wonder of marrying such a creature, a woman so beautiful and full of life, but on other rare occasions, such as the last couple of nights, he wondered if her being so hip would allow Momiji to get away with more. Shaking the thought from his head, he returned his attention back to his work. "A couple more days of some good rest wouldn't hurt."

"I'm fine, Kunikida-san."

"Momiji, you don't have to call me that, you know. 'Kunikida-san' sounds so formal coming from you. After all, you've been living here for quite a while."

"What should I call you then?" Of course, Momiji knew. She had used a less formal title for him in the past, but as she'd grown up, and become less comfortable using them, instead of the other way around, she'd returned to 'Kunikida-san'.

Daitetsu had accepted it gracefully, but every so often, he prodded her to begin to loosen up again, though it never seemed to have any effect. After all, no matter how much a part of her life he was, he wasn't her father, though he tried his hardest to be the best substitute possible. Instead of voicing his thoughts, he grunted by way of reply, dipping his brush into the can of paint.

In order to ease the bit of awkwardness that had settled upon them, Momiji opened her mouth to speak. "Why did you pick green as a theme?"

"Neutral territory." Kunikida chuckled. "Ryoko wanted blue, since she's convinced the baby is a boy. I voted yellow for a girl. We compromised on green, since yellow and blue do make green after all."

"So you think she's going to have a girl, then."

"Just a gut feeling. It'll be a girl." He reached over to ruffle her hair with his pant-speckled hand. "Get inside and get some food into that stomach of yours. You've lost some weight."

"I'd rather just sit out here with you for a while, if that's fine with you."

"Eat first, then you can come back outside. We can't have you getting sick again. Go on."

With a sigh, she got to her feet. "All right."

"And no pushing your food around until it looks like you've eaten, either. I was a kid once, and I remember the tricks I tried to pull."

"Yes sir!" She saluted, and as Kunikida chuckled and continued on with his task, she slid open the door and slipped inside.

Turning away from the door, she almost collided with the very pregnant Ryoko, who'd apparently been watching them converse.

"Sorry," Momiji breathed, reaching out to steady the older woman. She appeared to be fine, but Momiji had unconsciously began to act a great deal more cautious around her, though there seemed to be no particular need for it. The competent woman hadn't lost her marbles due to pregnancy, though she was frequently catered to and coddled as if she had. Ryoko found it amusing and annoying at the same time.

"I'm fine, silly," Ryoko returned, smiling that serene smile Momiji had seen on her face so many times before. "You must be hungry. Let me start on breakfast."

Momiji returned the smile. "No hurry, I'm not all that hungry."

"Well, then, we'll start on breakfast for my sake," she chirped cheerfully. "Come on, you're getting too thin anyway."

"Told you that you were skinny." Sakura appeared from the hall, following the two into the kitchen.

"Ah, good morning, dear. Are you hungry?"

"A little." Sakura admitted, padding along behind them. "I didn't eat much last night."

"Neither of you did. I can't miss a meal." Ryoko said, seemingly amused at the changes in her appetite. "Two people need nourishment here." Against her will, her hands drifted to her tummy, the way expecting mothers around the world did out of instinct.

Sakura eyed the distended belly skeptically. "You sure there's not two in there?"

"Two?"

"Yeah, two. There's got to be enough room in there for two, if you ask me. Don't you think so?"

Ryoko gave Sakura a horrified glance.

"Two what?"

"Two babies, Mamoru." Sakura, Ryoko, and Momiji swiveled to face the figure in the doorway.

"Oh." It was baby talk, strictly for people who liked babies and chit chat. "I can go if you want to talk, or something."

"Don't be silly. Have a seat, all three of you. You're hungry too, aren't you Mamoru?"

"I guess." Kusanagi seated himself at one side of the table, crossing his legs, while Momiji and Sakura occupied the other side. He drummed his fingers on the table, signaling his discomfort in a family-type setting. Momiji kicked at his foot underneat the table to get his attention, and to her suprise, he nudged her ankle in response. It seemed he was in somewhat decent spirits that morning.

He didn't glance her way, however, which gave her some time to study him. It had been a long time since she had done so, despite the fact that they were almost always in a close proximity these days. She was always afraid of being noticed, or embarassing herself, but she couldn't help herself this time.

Despite his obvious abnormalities, she thought of him as beautiful. Not that his differences were unattractive, just different. She allowed herself to indulge in her thoughs, laspsing into silence. There was so much to admire. His height, the way he towered over her so she had to look up at him, his voice, and the way it sounded when he spoke quietly to her in the dark, his words muddled by sleepiness. She was even fond of his mood swings, despite the unpleasant turn they sometimes took, because they were simply his. She loved the rare occasions where he was pleasant, teasing her into raging fits that resulted in her attempts to do him harm. But if she could be with him without complications, she'd gladly trade in his best moods for his most sour. She'd trade anything.

However, the more time that passed, the more she was coming to the realization that their relationship was most likely doomed. The night before, when he had retunred to his room, she'd been waiting up for him. Unsure of how to proceed, she'd merely held out of her hands, and though she'd seen the wariness in his eyes, he'd taken them. Before she could gather her wits, she'd been in his arms, her nose smarting from where it had banged into the hard, muscled wall of his lower chest. She wasn't sure who'd made the first move, but they had remained in that particular position for quite some time, her kneeling at the foot of the bed, and Kusanagi standing before her, the two of them in an almost desperate clinch. Eventually Momiji's knees began to protest, so she'd simply risen to her feet without breaking the embrace.

She'd been blissful, surrounded by some rather ugly, fluffy pink clouds, and her eyes had slid closed. She felt his lips on her cheek, felt his breath against her skin, and at that moment of perfection realized that this would probably be the last time she would be able to hold him that way again.

Momiji heaved an unconscious sigh then. She was being rather hard on herself, she supposed, but she had to. Expect the worst, hope for the best, that way there was no disappointment. Besides that, life never had the habit of working in her favor.

"Ouch!" Momiji rubbed her leg, snapping back to reality to glare at the girl seated next to her. "You didn't have to pinch me that hard."

Sakura, Kunikida, Ryoko and Kusanagi all watched her with varying expressions.

"Eat," Ryoko murmured, her no-nonsense tone loud and clear, and Momiji had enough sense to listen.

Breakfast was strangly heartwarming; the father, mother, boyfriend, and bosom buddy, all sitting down for a meal. It was almost laughable, especially when one took into account the number of circumstances that brought them all into the same house together, living some sort of insane masquerade. All in all, the situation wasn't pretty.

As Momiji shifted her gaze back to Kusanagi, she frowned. Gone was the somewhat relaxed expression on his handsome face, replaced by something that insinuated he was uncomfortable, suspicious. Momiji wasn't suprised at his discomfort, just at the way it had quickly taken over, when he had appeared at ease before. His eyes had narrowed somewhat, and although is teeth weren't bared, it was apparent he was grinding them together. She watched him, confusion in her eyes, before she was drawn back into the table's conversation.

"It looks like it'll be clear most of the day." Daitetsu made the remark, sipping his coffee after his statement. "Beautiful out, isn't it?"

"Yes." Momiji answered as she absently wondered just when he had joined them at the table. great day for dropping a big bomb. Perhaps when she was finished telling them the latest news they could all take advantage of the splendid weather and go frolick in the trees or something. feh. Suddenly she couldn't eat any more, and pushed back her food, ignoring the disapproval emanating from the parental units. She excused herself, making her way upstairs to clean up. After all, if she was going to be the messenger of the bad news, she should at least be tidy and fragrant. The irrational thought brought a humorless smile to her lips. The truth was about to be revealed, and though she was frightened, she was also relieved. It would all be over. Soon. Thank goodness.

* * *

He was excited. Since he was above skipping, he instead resorted to tapping his well kept fingernails against he glass of Kusanagi's bedroom window. He hadn't slept a wink; his nerves were too raw. Some substance raced through is veins, making it impossible to sit or lie still.

Murakumo was feeling something rather foreign. He didn't know whether to crawl under the bed and hide, or race the perimeter of the small, confining living quarters belonging to his enemy. He bit his lip, resisting the urge to wiggle, as some less than pure thoughts entered his mind.

How would be begin? How should he behave? Where would he start? Would he kiss her first, and wait for the very sensations they'd felt the neight before to override her common sense? Would they start on the couch, and move on to a more comfortable position, or make a beeline for the bed and let the event play itself out by ear? Which garment would be removed first? How would she react when he took his first glance at her milky skin? Would she flinch when he touched her? How loud would she cry out? Did she squirm when she got excited? Would her skin become flushed and glow during her high points of arousal? What would her moans sound like? Would they be low and hushed, or hoarse and piercing?

Murakumo forcibly changed his train of thought. No, He reminded himself. He had a job to do. That holier-than-thou Momiji had no business with his property, his soul. She had no right. Besides that, she had no knowledge of her ability. That blue orb had endless capabilities, and if she realized what she could do before he got to her and reclaimed it, he'd be in some serious doo doo. Hell, even if she didn't know how to use what she had, they'd all be in trouble if things went haywire.

Which was precisely why he had to get to her. Quickly.

Irritated with his impatience, he flopped down on the foot of the bed. He needed to calm down. Everything he stood for depended on it.

Despite himself, he felt a slight grin curving his mouth. Teenage boys felt this way quite often, when they knew what would come to pass.

He was going to get laid.

* * *

Momiji felt some rushes of anticipation herself. Waiting was killing her. There was no perfect time to come clean, yet she still waited for one. Breakfast had long passed, as had lunch and dinner. She received several questioning glances from Sakura, which were rewarded with several subtle shakes of her head. She hadn't yet told.

So, now alone, she sat at her windowsill, marveling at the fact that she was being so cowardly. She'd performed a rite- and survived-, sacrificing herself for the sake of her country, fought bad-ass monsters, and donned panties sporting her declarations of love, but she couldn't utter three simple words: "Murakumo is alive." Maybe she should shorten it: "Murakumo lives." No, it was still just as difficult.

A knock sounded, and Momiji jumped to her feet, drawn out of her thoughts as the door opened. No one bothered to wait; they never did these days, but despite that, she still muttered the customary greeting: "Come in."

"Hey." Kusanagi shoved the door open the remaining distance, then crossed the room and stood before her. She took note of his expression; it seemed his fairly decent mood had passed on with the fairly decent weather, and replaced with his normal one, along with the customary clouds. "I need to talk to you." His voice dropped. "Now. It's important."

"What's wrong?" she inquired automatically, though her attempts usually did no good.

"Aragami," he said flatly, "that's what." He seemed rather calm, though is eyes held an unholy gleam.

What? "What?"

"You heard me. It makes sense, doesn't it?" He fiddled with his gloves briefly, then began to walk back and forth, hands clenching into fists then relaxing repeatedly. "Aragami. It's the only thing that makes sense, that ever made sense."

"You're not thinking straight." Momiji said weakly, before she blinked. What the hell was wrong with her? This was an out, a way to break the news to him, and she was ruining it.

"Yes, I am. Use your head!" He reached over, grabbing her by the wrists and hauling her to her feet. "Listen to me. You know something happened the night I found you. You'd have to be stupid not to realize it. You didn't sense anything. No activity?"

Momiji stared up at him, dumbfounded. "What?"

"I felt it then, I've felt it ever since." He finally let go of his grip on her wrists, and her arms fell to her sides. "I sensed something that night I went looking for you, and I felt it last night."

"Felt what?" She asked faintly, swallowing. She felt sick to her stomach.

"Something." he said quietly, standing directly in front of her, fists knotted at his sides. "I've felt it other times, but those have been the strongest. It's not impossible. It could be an Aragami. The problem is the vibe I get is so damn weak that I just get glimmers, and nothing definite. I can't center on it, and I can't locate it."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Momiji asked. She shut her eyes, fighting back nausea. "Why haven't you said anything?"

"Because I don't know what I'm feeling! All I know is I sense something, and even though it feels alien to me, it's so damned familiar at the same time, but I can't focus on it or find it! I didn't want to say anything until I was positive, and with you all of a sudden getting that mitama again, I just didn't want to scare anyone. But I felt it again, today, stronger than ever. I can't ignore it anymore."

"Are you sure that what you feel isn't coming from me?"

"No, I'm not, but even if it is from you, that still doesn't mean things are fine. We've been ignoring the fact that you have it. That alone means something's wrong, right? You didn't get it for no reason. This isn't a normal." He finished in a rush, and Momiji saw the expression in his eyes.

He was excited. He was in his element. Even in the past, when he was fighting the baddies and trying to destroy evil, she'd seen the grins he wore while in combat, seen how his eyes glowed in anticipation. He wanted to fight; he lived for it. He'd been raised to love it, and Kusanagi hungered for battle. It was when he was most alive, she supposed.

She wished it weren't so, but if it wasn't, Kusanagi wouldn't be himself, wouldn't be the man she loved and wanted to protect.

"Of course it's not normal. I'm not normal, and neither are you. We're not regular human beings." Momiji felt a rush of self-disgust. Spit it out, she told herself, Just say it.

"Kusanagi?"

He looked at her, but didn't answer.

"Y.. you know how I feel about you. You know I.. love you, right?" She took a deep breath. She wanted him to know for sure before she dropped her bomb. Her heart was pounding rather slowly for her being so excited, and a sheen of perspiration began to appear on her forhead. He had to know she still loved him first, that she hadn't meant to behave the way she did, that Murakumo meant nothing to her.. Maybe that would make the difference. It wouldn't have mattered before, but since last night-since she'd... gotten intimate with his enemy- she needed him to know how she felt. Maybe this would keep him from hating her after all was said and done. All this time he'd known something was amiss, and had been going crazy trying to make sense of it while she'd kept the truth from him. In her own way, she'd unwillingly made a fool out of him. How could she have been stupid enough to think he would have no clue?

She waited for his response. She hadn't been so blunt about her feelings in almost two years. The last time she'd been brave enough to say it, had been directly after the rite. Afer all, who could have any fear after performing such a task? Of course, that had been two years past, and that state of fearlessness had since then passed.

"So?"

Momiji blinked. So? "So?"

"So what?"

Disbelief, then anger kept Momiji from falling to the floor. Her knees remained locked, her gaze turned confused. "So?"

" What the hell does that have to do with anything? Can't your stupid feelings wait? Right now I could care less! You don't understand how serious this is."

"I do! That's why I needed to tell you how I felt... if you'd listen to everything I have to say, you'll understand why. Just listen for a minute, okay?" She was near tears. He didn't get it. And she was an idiot. No matter what her feelings were, he was going to form his own opinion anyway. He probably thought she was just interested in the progression of their relationship than the crisis at hand. "Please."

"I don't have time."

He gave no warming. He simply turned tail and left, shutting the door none too quietly.

She sank to the foot of the bed, fighting tears, but eventually, they won over, and she bowed her head, allowing herself to be weak for a few brief moments. What a pig, she told herself, rubbing her red eyes with the back of her hand. He'd called her feelings stupid, and shrugged them off like they were nothing. He's not worth it. So it wouldn't help.

But he was worth it. As that though came rushing back to her, her energy returned. Murakumo was out there. Kusanagi was off hunting, and sooner or later, Kusanagi would find him.

She launched herself from the bed, flying to her dresser. With a screech, the first drawer was opened, and clothes went flying, until she located the article of clothing she desired. Her room quickly became a disaster area, and though she balked at leaving it that way, she didn't have the time to restore it to order.

She shimmied out of her skirt into the pair of jeans she'd found in her dresser, then sat on the bed in order to yank on a pair of thick, wool socks. A sweater went over her blouse, and a jacket over the sweater. She was wasting time.

Momiji propelled herself out of her room, and down the stairs, hair flying out behind her. She'd almost reached the front door when she felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder.

"What? What do you want!?" She turned to face her roomate.

Sakura backed up a step. Momiji looked almost posessed, her hair sticking out in awkward placces, her eyes wild, panicked, and tinged with red. Her jacket was half buttoned, and her breathing was frantic and shallow, due to her mad dash.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Kusanagi." Momiji stopped to catch her breath. "He's off looking.."

"For what? You told him! Right on!"

"No! He's harmless right now.. he can't defend himself!"

"Good! This is a good thing, remember?" Sakura stared in bewilderment, then repeated herself. "Remember? You're not thinking of going after him, are you?" She paused, waiting for the answer she knew she would get and didn't exactly want to hear, but it didn't come. "I'm coming with you."

Momiji's eyes got even wider. "No! No-stay."

"Like hell!"

"Kusanagi's out there looking for Aragami or something..a.. and Murakumo's out there somewhere. I need to go to him. I have to stop him. Now." Momiji realized she made no sense, but didn't stop to clarify. She sat on the last step, yanking on a pair of shoes.

"Go to who? And who are you trying to stop?"

Momiji stood. "Stay here. Please."

"The old man is going to kill you... and Takeuchi will have a fit.... hey, don't ignore me! Answer me. Hey!" Sakura found herself speaking to a slammed door, as Momiji ran down the walkway.

She took off at a dead run, her lungs heaving more from excitement than exertion at that point. Before she realized it, she'd cleard a good half mile, which meant she was out of sight of the Kunikida home, but as Sakura's question began to echo, she stopped dead in her tracks.

She leaned against a telephone pole as the dark clouds blotted out most of the moonlight, and a soft patter began to soak her flyaway hair.

Who did she need? Just who was she running to?

Her stiff composure began to crumble, along with her knees, and she sank to a crouch on the semi-damp sidewalk. Momiji buried her face in her hands as the questions replayed themselves. More tears seeped from behind closed eyelids and wet her fingers. The moisture went unnoticed as she quietly agonized. As the rain continued, the low rumbling that indicated the forthcoming onslaught almost drowned out her whispered response.

"God.."

She struggled to steady her breathing, but the erratic gasps were uncontrollable as her panic increased. She felt lost.

Go to who? Who did she want?

"God.. I don't know."

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