I worry about him all the time.  He can be so impatient.  He rushes headlong into danger without a thought to how it will affect him.  He fights like a madman if he thinks I’m in trouble and… and I love him for it.  Gods forgive me I love him… the first in my life. 

Boys used to be strange beings to giggle about with the other girls.  They were always so shy and silly, never saying what they mean to…  But he’s not like other boys.  Sure, he’s shy and silly, but he’s also serious.  He wouldn’t be afraid to fall off a cliff if it meant to save me… and I should know because I’ve seen him do it.  He would face hell for me.  That frightens me… and at the same time it is strangely flattering.

I love him.  I love the way he worries about me.  I love the way he opens up to me about what he wants and what he thinks.  I love him. 

I don’t ever want to leave his side.  His presence makes my pulse race and my head swim.  I would happily follow him into the pits of hell, just to be there for him… so he won’t ever be alone.

I love him… and that’s why I stay with him… even though he loves another.

Oh… My heart breaks to see them together.  It hurts to see him so lost in her power.  He loved her so much and then she died… and returned.  I understand.  They may not understand, but I am her soul reborn and she is a small sliver of me.  If that sliver feels even a small part of what I feel… then I understand.  I have no hope of winning against her claim.  She still bears her own form and… I am now someone else. 

I should be happy that a part of myself is still loved by him.  I should be content that he loves at least a small fraction of myself.  But… it still hurts. 

I want to scream out, “Here I am!  Love me like you did when I was still her!”  But I can’t.  All he sees is her form and not the soul inside. 

I am confusing my own identity with hers.  I often wonder what part of me is not originally a part of her… but it finally occurred to me that I am the part he didn’t originally love.

Oh, that sounds bad.  But what else can I think?  He goes to her.  He wishes to follow her.  And he can’t see me for who I am or who I used to be.   He can’t feel how I feel.  I am on the outside… loving him.  I will always love him.  I suppose she felt the same thing… eternal love.  Now I’m a part of that.  But I am destined to go unfulfilled.  I must be the reincarnation of her unrequited eternal love.

*       *       *

Miroku stared for a long moment at the small book in his hands.  “What is this?” he finally asked, looking at Kagome from where she sat, re-packing her bag.

Kagome flushed defensively and snatched the open book from the monk’s hands.  “Give that back, it’s secret!” 

“Secret?” the monk questioned, raising my eyebrow.

“That’s my diary.  You weren’t supposed to read it!”

“Then why did you write it?” Miroku asked, cocking his head to one side to stare at Kagome.

“You’re supposed to write private thoughts in a diary,” Kagome said with a frown, glancing at the page the monk had read.  She paled and slammed the book shut.  “How much did you read?” she asked quietly.

“Up to the part about being reincarnated as ‘her unrequited eternal love,’” Miroku said quietly.  “Do you really believe that, Kagome-sama?  Do you really believe you were reborn to embody Kikyou’s unfulfilled love?” 

Kagome closed her eyes and bowed her head.  “I don’t know what to believe.”  Warm arms surrounded her and she leaned against a sturdy chest.  A hand absently stroked her breast.  She slapped it away.

“Sorry,” Miroku grunted.  “Old habit.”  He balled his fists to keep his fingers from wandering.  “I know it must be hard for you… seeing them.  Believe me, I’ve told Inu Yasha more than once that he’s in danger of losing…” The monk lapsed into silence.  He sighed and began again.  “He’s confused, Kagome-sama.  I don’t think he means to hurt you.”

“He loves her still.  He wants to die with her.”

“He’s confused,” Miroku repeated, giving the girl in his arms a small squeeze before breaking off the embrace.  He dropped to his knees and took her hands in his, pulling her down before him.  “He doesn’t see that while he’s holding onto his past, he’s in danger of losing his future.  She’s no longer human… only an echo… a gollum.  You are a living, breathing, beautiful woman with a powerful spirit.”

Kagome dropped her eyes and blushed shyly. 

“You’ve got to be strong, Kagome-sama,” he smiled at her as she looked back up.  He glanced up over her head for a moment before focusing on her eyes again.  “I would be honored if you would bear my child,” he announced and winked at her.

“Hey!” a new voice growled from behind Kagome.  She turned to see Inu Yasha staring at them intently.

“This is between me and Kagome-sama,” Miroku responded calmly.  “Right, Kagome-sama?”  He stared at her expectantly.

“R-right,” responded Kagome, taking his cue.

Miroku raised an eyebrow at Inu Yasha.  “Unless you have a reason to butt into her affairs…?”

Kagome turned to see Inu Yasha’s response.  He pouted and flattened his ears.

Miroku added more fuel to his fire.  “You obviously don’t want her, so why can’t I have her?”

Inu Yasha silently looked from the monk to Kagome and back.

“Is she supposed to die an old maid?” Miroku goaded.

Inu Yasha turned on his heel and stomped away.

“Maybe you can think of someone else to love her… Shippou, perhaps?” Miroku called after him.  He giggled lightly and squeezed Kagome’s hand.  “I love doing that to him.”

She frowned a moment.  “Why?”

“To remind him how unfair he’s being to you.  The others and I, we don’t like seeing you sad, Kagome-sama,” Miroku replied.  “Besides, he’s funny when he’s jealous.”

“Jealous?” Kagome echoed, looking in the direction Inu Yasha had taken to leave.

“He’s jealous,” he informed her, standing and helping her regain her own feet.  “There’s still hope for the two of you as long as he feels possessive over you.”

Kagome gave him a small smile.

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