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Sand in the Hourglass

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"How indeed?" Sesshomaru rumbled as she gaped at him. 

Kagome found herself reaching out to him with her own reiki, wanting to identify the source of his glamour. "You looked human a minute ago," she accused as she searched but now that the glamor had fallen, his own yoki lay beneath the surface, muddling her senses.

"Hnn. So I did," he agreed easily.

"I've never sensed you before." She wasn't sure if she was hurt or angry at that fact. Here she was, alone, in her own time, believing that she'd never get to see anyone again. After three years, she was relieved to see anyone—even if that someone was Sesshomaru—and yet it made her last three years even lonelier. If Sesshomaru had survived, why hadn't he sought her out? Why hadn't anyone?

Her overwhelming emotions didn't allow her much room to consider the fact that she and Sesshomaru had never been close, let alone friends, and so it was unlikely that he would have had a reason to seek her out in the first place. 

"Or anyone else, for that matter, aside from Tatarimokke," she continued, unable to stop the rush of questions from leaving her lips. "Is everyone else using the same trick that you are? Do you know where other yokai are? I don't see Jaken or the dragon with you, and I haven't found Shippo no matter how hard I tried, but—"

"Kagome." He held up a hand to stop her, but her emotions were too high, too wrought, for her to stop now.

"Did I go back, Sesshomaru?" Her voice cracked as she felt tears well up within her. Though she'd tried her best to fit in here, she'd missed her friends back home. The well had been closed to her, but she knew she'd try to go back the moment she sensed its magic return—if it ever did.

What if she couldn't? What if she never knew how many children Sango or Miroku had or if InuYasha was happy now as a hanyo, knowing the jewel no longer existed to transform him? What if she never knew if Shippo became the great kitsune he'd wanted to be, or if he'd ever married or had children?

Despite herself, it was too much and her tears began to well up. "Did I?" she asked, her voice no more than a hoarse whisper. "Please, Sesshomaru. I need to know."

Without realizing it, she'd grabbed a hold of his suit with both fists, twisting the fabric as she buried her face in his chest. It was the wrong chest and the wrong man and yet it was oddly soothing to have him wrap his arms around her in turn.

"Yes," he finally said, sounding as though the words had been torn from his chest. "You find your way back, Kagome."