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The It Couple

Summary:

Kikyou and Inuyasha had it all. They were Hollywood royalty, an acting pair for the generations. And then they went bust, in epic fashion. But the Hollywood machine keeps rolling on. It's up to press agents Miroku and Sango, as well as Kikyou's lovelorn younger sister (and assistant) Kagome, to get The It Couple back together for the cameras in time for their new premiere! Yikes.

Chapter 1: You'll Get Wrinkles

Summary:

In which our mains are introduced doing what they do best - trying to handle all their daily bullshit (or failing to handle it).

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter One

You'll Get Wrinkles

 

 

“Well, Sango, it’s been interesting.” There was a final slapping sound as a stack of random papers was tossed into a cardboard box. Miroku had a wry, humorless smile on his face as he threw an arm around his gigantic potted plant and stood, the contents of his former office piled into his arms.


Sango, trying and failing not to feel awkward and embarrassed, stood up from her computer, wringing her hands. “Mr. Houshi, sir, I just wanted to thank you for all these months of training. I’m sure wherever you’re going--”


Miroku cut her off, raising a hand as much as he could. The pile of clutter in his hands shifted awkwardly and he scrambled to readjust.


“Let’s not. You were a hell of an intern, kid, and you’ll be a hell of a press agent. You’ve got the full off-season to get comfortable before Christmas and Oscar season hit. Good luck to you.” The plant tipped precariously over his elbow.


Sango tried not to blush from the compliment. “Let me at least help you to your car, sir,” she said, starting forward to catch the plant.


He gave her a smirk and stepped backward. “No, no, it’s Hollywood tradition. When you get fired from a place after twelve years, you gotta do your walk of shame by yourself.”


“I’ve never heard of that tradition.”


“It’s not a tradition. I just made it up. Later, Sango. Don’t forget the press gala for ‘To Catch a Soul Stealer’ this Friday night, and Yura Kaminoke has been calling for a quote on Hiten Raimei’s latest girlfriend’s dress at the ‘Cool Hand Ryuko’ premiere. You know the one, where she wore only a velvet snake around her--yeah, I gotta go.” He disappeared out the side door with a resigned sigh.


Sango stood rooted to the spot, then ran a hand through her long brown hair and walked slowly to the now-empty walnut desk in the center of the small office space. Running her hands over its surface, she tried not to feel guilty at the excitement brewing in her stomach.

 


 

 

Miroku almost wished he had taken Sango up on her offer as he stumbled down the backlot alley, dodging extras and production assistants on golfcarts racing to different soundstages. Ah, Hollywood, he thought. He was going to miss it.


Sango was a great girl, smart as a whip and quite capable of the job. She would grow into her role, as green as she was, and be a fantastic press agent for Sunrise Studios. No doubt there.


But where did that leave him? Stuck trying to find a job working for a shithole community theatre somewhere, passing out flyers on street corners, and all because he fell for the wrong woman.


Miroku tossed the box of memorabilia and the ficus into the backseat of his Benz and slammed the door. He was probably going to have to downgrade the car eventually, once the residuals from the studio payments ran out. That pissed him off. Working his ass off since he was a teenaged kid and there would be nothing to show for it, not in this town.


He climbed into the front seat and sat there, his jaw set forward defiantly. When a studio executive like Randall Warner wanted you out of his town, there was no getting around it. All of his old publicist friends weren’t even returning his calls.


“I need a fucking drink,” Miroku muttered, running a hand through his short, ponytailed hair and shoving his keys into the ignition.


The Mercedes roared off through the studio lots, though not as loudly or obnoxiously as he’d have liked. Damn hybrids.

 


 

 

Inuyasha Takahashi was feeling pretty damn good right now. Sure, he was drunk off his ass, with his arm around some blonde chick (“Candy-with-an-eye-eeeee”, she’d called herself), a pack of cigarettes gone, and probably a thousand-dollar bar bill, but he’d take it.


“How ‘bout it, Takahashi?” Kouga Okami, bad boy of film stars and fairly good friend in trying times, was looking at him devilishly, waggling his eyebrows, “One more round?”


Inuyasha removed his arm from “Candieeeeee” and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His silver hair, a mark of his demonic heritage and long since his trademark, hung to his lower back, ruffling slightly in the wake of the dive bar’s electric fan.


“It’s on you this time, Kouga,” he said, “I’m outta quarters.”


“You’re on,” Kouga said, knocking fifty cents into the slot of the foosball table in a dramatic fashion, “Get us some more drinks over here!”


“I got it, I got it,” Inuyasha held up his hands and stumbled over to the bar, “Candieeeeee” having abandoned him to go sit down in the corner and pout into her makeup case.


“Another round of the same, please sir,” he slurred at the bartender, who was eyeing him warily.


“I’d say you’ve had enough, sir,” the barman said hesitantly.


Inuyasha’s eyes narrowed. “Listen here,” he said, pulling out his wallet, “You see this? This is an Amex Black Card. You know what it means?”


“I know what it means.”


“Can you read the name on here?”


“I know who you are, sir.”


“Oh, good,” Inuyasha said, flashing a charming smile, “That’s good. So one more round, how ‘bout it? I’ll go as far to buy another round for everyone in here.”


“Sir, I--”


“You hear that, everyone?” Inuyasha turned to the crowd inside, not a few of whom had been watching his every move since he’d walked into the joint a few hours before and several of whom immediately tried to hide the phones that had been taking pictures and videos of him, “Shots on me!”


There was a cheer from the bar patrons, and the bartender sighed and went to pull all the shot glasses he had from underneath the counter.


Inuyasha gave a sarcastic little wave to the crowd that was filming him, relishing the sheepish looks, and then looked down the long bar. This place would have been right at home in an eighties action movie, he thought. Dolph Lundgren sitting at the end, Stallone next to him, maybe even Steven Seagal if the place was desperate enough.


A man sitting in the far back corner caught his eye. He was in his early thirties, had a short black ponytail and one gold earring, and was obviously shitfaced. Well, so was Inuyasha, but more shitfaced.


“Miroku?” Inuyasha called, “Miroku Houshi? Holy shit!”


He bounded over and greeted him with a handshake. Miroku’s blue eyes were well and proper glazed over. Was that a joint in his hand? Inuyasha sniffed. Oh, yes, yes it was.


“How the hell are you,” Miroku said it as if it were a statement and not a question, motioning for Inuyasha to sit down, “Sorry about the mess.”


Inuyasha shoved a few empty beer bottles out of the way. “What are you doing here, man? It’s like three in the afternoon. I thought I was the only one making day drinking a sport; you read the papers. Hell, you almost write the papers sometimes.”


“Hey man,” Miroku slurred, “That hit piece on you about the nervous breakdown had nothing to do with me. That was all Warner’s minions, stirring it up.”


Inuyasha folded his arms behind his head, a serene and winning smile on his face. “Even if it were, Houshi,” he said, “I am way too drunk to give a shit right now.”


“Takahashi! We playin’ or what?!” Kouga’s voice rang out from across the room. He was standing by the foosball table, looking a bit forlorn.


Inuyasha waved him off. “Hey, blondie! Kouga wants to play foosball with you!”


Candieeeeee stood up and teetered on six inch heels over to Kouga, who shot a look of venom at Inuyasha.


“What are you even doing here?” Miroku said, taking the shot the poor overburdened bartender was bringing, “You’ve got more money than God. Shouldn’t you be at the Wilshire or something?”


“Hey, I’ve gotta remain incognito while making an ass of myself.” Inuyasha downed the shot in a quick gulp.

Miroku glanced over Inuyasha’s shoulder at the crowd of filming patrons. “Yeah, doing a great job of that. How much have you had anyway?”

“Not enough.” Never enough, Inuyasha thought.


The look of understanding Miroku flashed him was enough to make him feel oddly self-conscious for a man who was at various times the highest-grossing male movie star in the world.


Time to deflect.


“You didn’t answer my question, Miroku. What are you doing here in the middle of the day?”


“I just got fired.”


“...oh.”


Miroku took another puff of his cigarette. “Replaced by my cute little female intern who’s all of twenty-five years old. After twelve goddamn years of service. Because Warner can’t handle a little jealousy.”


Inuyasha’s ears perked up. “Wait. Did you--”


“Yep. His fucking brand new wife from Slovenia. I had no clue. She acted like I was her saving grace, the one she’d been waiting for. What a crock. The second he threatened to cut her allowance she told him who I was. And here I am.”


“I always told you the ladies would be your downfall, man,” Inuyasha shook his head, “Acting like you’ve gotta be some great Casanova.”


Inuyasha’s expression darkened. “But then again, even the dream girls turn out to be nightmares.”


It was quiet for several moments, the rock music on the jukebox filling the silence between them.


“I’m sorry, man,” Inuyasha said finally.


“Me too,” Miroku replied.


“You wanna get outta here? I think Kouga’s got his hands full anyways.” Inuyasha gestured to the other end of the bar where Kouga was fighting to keep Candieeeeee’s hands out of his various bodily areas.


Inuyasha stood, strode to the counter, and tossed the Black Card at the bartender again. “Do you have a back exit?”


As the two men stumbled out into the still bright California sun, Inuyasha swore he heard Kouga calling him every name in the book.

 


 

 

“Kagooooooome!”


Kagome blinked her eyes open. She was sprawled on a lovely expensive mattress with lovely expensive pillows, wearing her favorite ratty Judas Priest tee shirt and some old boxer shorts. Where even were they again? Oh right, San Diego. The morning show.


With a slight groan, she shoved herself up into a sitting position and glanced at the hotel alarm clock on the nightstand. 4:00 am. No point in even setting an alarm, she had her darling sister for that.


Grumbling, she tossed her long black hair over one shoulder and trudged into the room across the spacious hallway.


“Morning, Kikyou,” she muttered, trying to keep her voice cheerful.


Her elder sister sat at a pearl white vanity table, looking radiant as always even with her long hair in curlers and her face set in a horrible scowl.


“Better cut that face out,” Kagome joked, slipping her hands over her sister’s shoulders and patting once, “You’ll get wrinkles.”


“This isn’t a laughing matter, Kagome!” Kikyou snapped, staring straight into her mirror reflection but adjusting the stricken look on her face all the same, “Just look at this face!”


“I am,” Kagome said, crossing her arms with a yawn, “What’s the problem? Your call time for Morning News 5 isn’t for another two hours. You really should try to sleep a little more.”


Kikyou ignored this advice pointedly and continued as if Kagome hadn’t spoken. “Do you see this?!” she gestured at the slight shadows under her lower eyelids, “I can’t go on TV looking like the Crypt Keeper!”


“Sleep does help with that, sister dear.”


“And another thing,” Kikyou ranted, “I was going through my Instagram just now--”


“Oh God, here we go.”

 

“--and no matter what any of my photos say there’s always at least twenty comments about...about him!”


“Kikyou, I told you to just turn comments off if they bother you so much--”


“I can’t do that! It will decrease my followers! Does no one care that I don’t want to be with Inuyasha anymore? I just want to be left alone! I want to just scream at people, get a life!”


“That’s really not how it works at all--”


Kikyou burst into ugly sobs, dramatically throwing her face into her folded arms and sobbing into the vanity.


Kagome sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, then stepped behind her sister and slipped an arm around Kikyou’s shoulders. Kikyou kept histrionically sobbing.


“Kikyou, come on,” Kagome said gently, “It’s not that bad. I will admit, your squeaky clean image is a little tarnished now, but people forget eventually. You and Inuyasha just broke up three months ago.”


“Seven,” Kikyou’s voice was muffled.


“Well, three as far as the press and the public know. When you’re part of a public couple like that, folks are bound to be curious.”


“It’s all his fault,” Kikyou said into her arms, “Saying all that awful stuff about me to the press!”


“He didn’t say anything to the press, Kikyou,” Kagome gave her sister a gentle pat on the back.


“He didn’t deny anything either!”


“Well, what do you expect? Given the circumstances, I’d say he was pretty well-behaved about the whole thing, for someone who was heartbroken, anyway.”


“There you go!” Kikyou spat, shrugging away from Kagome’s touch and standing to pace dramatically around her luxurious suite in her white silk robe. Kagome called it “playing the queen” in her head but would never say so out loud.


“You’re always defending him! When he attacked my poor Naraku and screamed at me in a club full of people! When he didn’t deny anything when the press said I cheated on him!”


“You did cheat on him.”


“But he could have kept it quiet like a gentleman! You always take his side, Kagome. Just because the two of you had some weird friendship, you think I’m the bad guy!”


Kagome sighed, trying not to blush or get angry. At times like this, it was best to just let Queen Kikyou talk.


“If you had to choose between us, you’d pick him! Admit it!”


“Kikyou,” Kagome stood, face stoic and hands on her hips, “Stop crying, you’re going to be puffy for TV this morning.”


Immediately, Kikyou’s tears ceased and she ran back to the mirror, wiping the streaks off her face. “I need a mineral water, Kagome,” she said, her voice steady and back to business.


“Right away,” Kagome said, and she strode out of the room.

 


 

 

“Listen,” Inuyasha said, a fresh shirt on and a glass of fine whiskey in hand, “I think I’ve got your problem solved. I’ll hire you as my personal publicist.”


Miroku sat on the leather couch of Inuyasha’s living room, a room that would not have looked out of place in any five-star hotel. He was holding his own drink, and smoking another cigarette. That was four so far today. He was going to kill himself. Better smoke two at once.


“Inuyasha, I appreciate the offer, but--”


“No, no, no, listen. You’re the best. I want the best. Hell, like you said, I’m richer than God, right? I can afford you.”


“I’ve never worked for just one client before,” Miroku said slowly.


“How hard can it be? Just make me into a perfect angel for the press.” That statement ended with a chuckle under his breath as he took another swig of whiskey, “Whatever the studio paid you, I’ll match it.”


“I seriously doubt that.”


“Okay, but I’ll come close. Honestly, buddy, we’ve been friends for a long time, and you’d be doing me as much of a favor as I’d be doing you one.”


Miroku’s eyes lit up. “Ohhhh,” he said sagely, “You want me to come onboard for ‘The Red Robe’ premiere.”


“It’s not just that.”


“Isn’t it?”


“Okay, that’s a huge part of it,” Inuyasha ran a hand through his long silver mane of hair, “But I don’t think I can get through it on my own. I mean, hell, we completed shooting six months ago. I haven’t even seen her since then. I have to play nice with her for this damn premiere at Christmastime, and even before then we have a whole slew of press bullshit to slog through. I can’t go it alone. I need someone I can trust.”


“Inuyasha, you have a publicist already.”


“Fucking Totosai?!” Inuyasha snapped, “The guy who introduced me to Kikyou? Who said it would be a great idea for my career to date my costar?”


Miroku sniffed. “In all fairness, it was a great idea for your career.”


There was a heavy silence. Inuyasha’s annoyance looked on the verge of turning to rage. That temper of his was legendary.


With a sigh, Miroku took another sip of his drink. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m thinking like a press agent again. We are notoriously without souls.”


Inuyasha took a swig of his drink again, obviously content to let the conversation move on. “So will you do it?”


Miroku stood, still wobbly after who-knows-how-many drinks in the middle of the afternoon, and crossed the large room toward his friend, glass held aloft.


“I’ll do it.”


Their glasses clinked together hard enough to shatter.


“Aw, shit. Hold on, let me call the maid. Nazuna!

Chapter 2: The Hangover Special

Summary:

In which Kagome and Kikyou hit the morning show circuit, and Miroku starts his new job with gusto.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Two

The Hangover Special

 

“Welcome back to Morning News 5, everyone. I’m Anne Varren, and I’m sitting here with the one, the only, Kikyou Higurashi!”


There were cheers and applause. Kikyou gave her cute little wave and wink combo that always got the job done. “Thank you for having me, Anne!” she said.


From her little stool offstage, Kagome sat legs crossed, reading another trashy paperback novel about dukes and long-lost princesses and the like. She yawned. Coulda used another two hours of sleep, she thought as she turned the page.


“So Kikyou, big year for you!” The morning news reporter leaned forward in her chair, red-nailed fingers clasped together gleefully.


“It was, wasn’t it?” Kikyou’s smile slipped a little, but probably only Kagome caught it.


“How’s life at home?”


“Oh, you know, very busy,” Kikyou said, “I feel like I’m always filming, so it’s been nice to take a few months off and get myself a little more centered.”


“And now you’re back with your new film, ‘The Red Robe,’ in theatres this Christmas, just in time for Oscar season. Do you think this year will be your comeback, Kikyou?”


Kagome winced, holding up her book to hide her expression.


Kikyou gingerly flipped her long black hair and gave her winning smile. “Oh, Anne, I dislike the word ‘comeback.’ I never left! I just needed some time off. I’m sure you can understand that!”


“Of course I can,” Anne replied, returning the smile, “Of course, this is also a killer role for your co-star and former fiance, Inuyasha. Have you spoken to him recently?”


“Here we go,” Kagome said, clapping the open book over her face.


Kikyou looked genuinely shocked for half a second but recovered impeccably. “I actually, er, still talk to him all the time. We remain the closest of friends. I’m sure whatever comes this awards season will be well-deserved!”


Kagome fought the pang in her chest and momentarily glanced toward the phone in her jacket pocket.


Anne looked positively delighted by the news. “That’s wonderful to hear!” she exclaimed, “You heard it here first, folks, Inuyasha and Kikyou are still friends even after all that’s happened!”


The audience cheered. Kikyou smiled, eating it all up. Kagome sank down further in her seat and felt like she needed another shower.


Her phone buzzed, and she sprang to pick it up, even though she knew it wouldn’t be who she wanted it to be.


“Hello?”


“Kagome Higurashi, please.”


“Speaking.”


“Good morning, Kagome. I hope I haven’t caught you too early.”


“Oh, no,” Kagome said, tossing her paperback book in her purse and walking toward the rear of the studio, “Morning show circuit has us all up at dawn these days. Who is this, please?”


“Kagome, my name is Sango Ryoshi. I’m the new lead press agent for Sunrise Studios.”


What the hell happened to Miroku? Kagome wondered.


Sango continued. “Since we’re at the end of September, I think we need to talk about the rollout for ‘Red Robe’ and all that will come with that.”


“That’s fine,” Kagome said, all business, “Should I schedule a lunch for all of us to meet? You, me, Kikyou, to go over all the junket dates and premieres?”


“I was actually wondering if you two are free this afternoon.”


“Well, we’re heading to the Bev Hills house today after we finish up here. Do you have the address?”


There was a sound of scrambling on the other line, the sound of desk drawers being opened and shut. “...I don’t, I’m sorry. I think my predecessor...took all of the personal contact info with him.” Sango seemed to be bracing for an earful from her.


Kagome smirked. She wasn’t that kind of assistant. “I’ll text it to this number for you. Shall we say 3 pm? Oh, also, Kikyou’s gluten-free and dairy-free, so unless you like eating nothing but raw kale, I’ll get the chef to make something different for us. Do you like swordfish?”

 


 

 

“God, she is unbelievable,” Inuyasha muttered, scrolling through his news app, cup of black coffee in hand.


Miroku only groaned, shaking a packet of headache powder into a glass of water. “Stop looking her up, then.”


“You of all people should know that I don’t have to look her up for her to be fucking everywhere,” Inuyasha snapped.


They were sitting at the breakfast nook in Inuyasha’s luxe Beverly Hills mansion, Miroku nursing the hangover to end all hangovers and Inuyasha feeling only slightly sluggish. Drinking was easier when it was all you did lately.


Nazuna, a cute girl in her mid-twenties, was throwing together what Inuyasha called the “Hangover Special” - a bagel sandwich with thick-cut ham and bacon, cheese, and egg. She placed the plates gingerly in front of the two men.


“Thanks, Nazuna.” Inuyasha flashed his million-dollar grin, and the maid blushed and smiled back before exiting the kitchen.


Inuyasha took a huge bite of his sandwich. Nazuna was a hell of a cook, but this wasn’t the way he remembered this tasting. It was Kagome who used to make them for him, back when all of them had lived together…


He wondered how she was. He hadn’t heard from her since the night he and Kikyou finally ended it all, and probably with good reason. Kikyou was her sister, after all, and all friendships were out the window when it came to siding with family.


“Inuyasha?” Miroku had been talking to him and was staring at him with a puzzled look.


“Hm?”


“I just got a text from Sango, asking me to call her.”


“And who the hell is Sango.”


“My intern, the one who got my job when I got canned? Maybe Warner’s seen the light and wants to welcome me back with open arms.”


Inuyasha raised an eyebrow. “You really think so?”


“Not at all. Hold on, I better take this.”

 


 

 

“Mr. Houshi?”


“Sango, we’ve been over this. You can call me Miroku. How can I help you so soon? Having trouble adjusting to the new job?”


The tone of the voice on the other end was flat and clipped. “No. You took the company phone with you when you left. The one with all the contact info.”


Miroku’s hand slipped into his jacket pocket and closed around another phone. “...oh.”


“If you could meet me somewhere near Bev Hills and return it to me as soon as possible, please.” Her voice was all business; he hadn’t remembered Sango ever sounding this sure of herself. It was kind of hot.


“Why don’t we meet for dinner somewhere? I know a great little sushi place on--”


“That won’t be necessary. I’m having a late lunch with Kikyou Higurashi and her sister today.”


“Wow, you work fast. The awards season rollout isn’t for another month and you’re already going over game plans?”


“I like to be prepared ahead of time, as you may remember.” She sounded eager to get the conversation over with.


“Well then, you’re just the woman I need to speak to,” Miroku said, putting a suave edge to his voice, “You’re talking to Inuyasha Takahashi’s new publicist.”


There was silence over the other end, then a flat “What.”


“Yeah, he and I are old friends, Sango. I’m sure that was mentioned to you at some point. Guess that means you and I are gonna be spending a lot of time together this season. We have a whole Oscar campaign to plan. Better get comfortable.”


“Weren’t unemployed long, were you?”


Miroku smirked. “Sweetheart, I’m the best. There was bound to be someone begging for my services.”


“Anyway, the phone?” she said, annoyance creeping through the other line, “Can you meet me sometime early this afternoon? The corner of--”


“You know, Sango,” he said, stretching and yawning, “I actually can’t today. Why don’t you call me again tomorrow and I’ll get it to you then. From the sound of things, we’ll need to be arranging a meeting between you and my client as well. Gotta ensure the press coverage gets equal share between them, you know. Otherwise, how am I going to keep him obscenely rich and well-paid?”


“Mr. Houshi--”


“Sorry, I don’t answer to that anymore, Sango. Gotta go. See you soon!”


Click. Miroku tried not to feel too proud of himself.


“God, you are a bastard, aren’t you,” Inuyasha muttered through a mouthful of sandwich.

 


 

 

Kagome always relished getting to come home. Seemed like when a movie needed to be promoted they were always on the road, so these few days where she got to sleep in her own bed were pretty much holy days in her mind. As they walked through the front door, Kagome carrying about five bags of luggage while Kikyou carried the dog leash of the pomeranian, she fought the urge to just fling the bags of expensive clothes and shoes on the nearest imported French furniture and kick her feet up. An assistant’s job was never done, after all; Kikyou was not about to unpack herself.


Kikyou let the leash drop and the dog tottered off to the doggy door immediately. “Naraku!” she called, “We’re home!”


There was a sound from the home gym area of weights clinking, and Naraku appeared, sweaty as usual, a towel draped around his shoulders.


“There’s my little minx,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he scooped Kikyou up in a bridal carry. Kikyou giggled and threw her arms around his neck.


“Oh, honey, I missed you,” Kikyou murmured, kissing him on the cheek.


“I saw you on TV this morning,” Naraku said, “You looked gorgeous.”


Kikyou squeezed him tighter. “If only they’d stop asking me about him.”


Naraku then bent Kikyou over and gave her a hell of a kiss, so much so that Kagome felt her own cheeks burning.


“Babe,” Naraku said huskily, “Don’t even worry about him. I’m here to protect you in case he tries to attack you again.”


Attack? Kagome busied herself with dragging the luggage to the bedroom door. Since when does catching your fiancee redhanded smooching someone else in a club, and confronting her verbally, constitute an attack?


Her phone buzzed. It was Miroku Houshi. She hadn’t talked to him in--god, six months? Not since…


She’d call him back.


“Kikyou,” she called. Kikyou didn’t answer. Too busy pawing all over her beefcake boyfriend.


“Kikyou,” she tried again.


“What?” Kikyou whined, releasing Naraku and turning around. Naraku didn’t even acknowledge Kagome.


“We have a late lunch with Sango Ryoshi today. She’s the new press agent for Sunrise. She’ll be here at--”


“Gawwwwd,” Kikyou said, “Do I have to?”


Whenever she pulled that tone, Kagome would have traumatic flashbacks to every school function, every after-school hobby, every boyfriend in high school that Kikyou wanted to break up with. It had always meant that their mother would turn to Kagome and expect her to take care of it for her perfect older sister. And Kagome always had. Ever the faithful assistant.


“Yeah, you kinda do. She’s the one who’s designing our whole Oscar season campaign, after all. You’ll need to talk to her to get on the same page.”


“Did they say anything about Supporting Actor campaigns?” Naraku interrupted.


Well, hey there, Naraku, nice to acknowledge your existence too. “Not that I know of, but feel free to ask her about it.” Kagome put on her most polite smile.


Kikyou folded her arms, looking every inch the movie goddess she was. “What time is she coming over?”


“3 pm. I’ll talk to Kaede and get something delicious planned. We need to make a good impression, after all, since we’ve never met her.”


“Fine. You take care of it.” And with that, Kikyou’s attention was back to Naraku, and Kagome gave a half-hearted little nod and continued dragging her sister’s immense bags to the master bedroom.


“Kagome, do that later. I’ll be needing some privacy.” Kikyou swished past her, hand in hand with Naraku.


Kagome held up her hands in defeat and retreated to her own bedroom.


Naraku, for all his quirks, was certainly good for one thing - a few hours’ break for her.

Chapter 3: You Know, Hollywood People

Summary:

In which a fateful reunion is arranged, and Kagome's old crush starts to flare up once again.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Three

You Know, Hollywood People

 

The headline was covered in bright pink banners, flashing obnoxiously. God, these celebrity gossip websites were fucking eyesores. Inuyasha stared down at his phone, his face impassive.


“‘WE’RE STILL FRIENDS,’ SAYS KIKYOU, KIKYASHA FANS REJOICE!”


Kikyasha, he thought, they always have to make a fucking nickname of it.


Still friends. What that girl wouldn’t say to get a little bit of public adoration. He had to admire it, really. It was why she was where she was after all this time.


“You saw this, right?” he said, showing the phone to Miroku, who was frowning at his own.


“That’s odd,” Miroku said as if he hadn’t heard, “She usually always picks up right away.”


“Who?”


“Kagome.”


Inuyasha almost choked on the last bite of his sandwich. “Kagome? You’re calling Kagome? Now? Here?”


Miroku gave him a pointed look. “You look surprised. I’m going to have to talk to Kagome at some point, you know. She handles all of Kikyou’s scheduling, her outfit fittings, everything. I don’t know how she does it, really, it’s the job of like five people--”


“I know what she does, Miroku. I’ve known her since she was a teenager, remember?”


“Well, then you also know we’re all going to have to meet together at some point soon.”


“I have another thought,” Inuyasha said, “How about fuck that?”


“Don’t be an idiot. You have a job to do and it’s my job to make sure you can do yours.”


“Yeah, apparently my job is to air my dirty laundry out there for every Tom, Dick, and Jane to lap up.” Inuyasha’s fists clenched on the tabletop.


“Part of the biz, my friend. If you want, we can meet Kagome by herself first. Kind of ease our way back in.”


Seeing Kagome again would be amazing, for sure. But would she even want to see him? This whole breaking-up-with-her-beloved-elder-sister thing might have put a damper on even a friendship like they had had.


“Stupid idiot! Give me that controller! It’s left-down-right-down B!”


“Inuyasha! Wait your turn! Show-off!”


He smiled lightly to himself, then returned his attention to the conversation at hand.


“Yeah. Sounds good.”


Miroku stared at him for a second, his expression unreadable, then pressed the redial button.

 


 

 

“Hello?”


“Kagome, darlin, I thought maybe you were ignoring me.”


Kagome grinned, reaching up with her remote to pause her movie. “Miroku? It’s so great to hear your voice!”


“Likewise. How have you been?”


“Oh, you know,” Kagome said, “Same old me.”


“How’s our leading lady?”


Kagome scoffed. “Same old Kikyou.”


“I figured as much. What are you doing tonight?”


“Tonight? Well, Kikyou and Naraku are going out to Greystone Manor so I guess I’m doing that.” She dangled her legs over the edge of her squishy, comfortable bed.


“Oh no you aren’t. You’re coming out with us tonight.”


Kagome grimaced. “I don’t really know about that, Miroku. You know how Kikyou gets. What if she needs something while she’s out?”


“So get her a babysitter. She’s a grown-ass woman, Naraku can handle her for the night. As long as she pays for his drinks, I’m sure.”


She stifled a giggle. “I really don’t think she’ll let me go, but thanks anyway.”


“Kagome,” Miroku’s flirtatious tone continued, as it always did, “You’ve known me for years now. Do I ever take no for an answer? Besides, Inuyasha wants to see you.”


The pit of her stomach seemed to drop away. Kagome had never been so thankful that no one could see her face; it was surely beet-red right now.


“You’re with Inuyasha?


“Yeah, you wanna talk to him?” There was a shuffling noise while the phone was passed.


Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Kagome was dimly aware that she was now self-consciously tucking her hair behind her ears and smoothing it down.


“Hello?”


And there he was. Could he hear the blood pounding in her ears, she wondered.


“Inuyasha,” she said softly, “It’s been a long time.”


“Too long,” he agreed cheerfully, “Still hate me?”


There was an awkward silence as Kagome fought to find words to respond to that.


“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Inuyasha’s voice hadn’t lost its cheery edge, “Still, I hope you’ll come out with us tonight. Even if just for old times’ sake--”
There was a shattering noise on the other end. Inuyasha swore. “God dammit, Miroku, who the hell puts their glass of water on the rim of the fucking table--sorry Kagome, gotta go, see you tonight--this is the second glass you’ve broken and you’ve been in my house less than twelve hours--”


The ranting faded out and Miroku was back. “Did that convince you enough, sweetheart?” His voice was low, obviously so Inuyasha wouldn’t hear him.


“I hate you so much,” Kagome muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Alright, you win. I’ll meet you. Where?”


“Hyde Lounge, West Hollywood.”


“Well, I’m glad we’re not going too fancy,” Kagome muttered with a roll of her eyes, “See you around 10.”

 


 

 

“Hello, Miss Higurashi, it’s an honor to meet you,” Sango began, trying not to sound like another star-struck fan even though she had probably seen all of this woman’s movies at least twice. A star through and through, Kikyou Higurashi had started as a teenage actress in soaps and had blossomed into the most in-demand A-lister of the last five years; that is, if you didn’t count her former counterpart Inuyasha’s similar career trajectory.


Kikyou was dressed smartly but stylishly in jeans and a silk blouse. She looked like the sort of woman who would never dream of leaving the house without being dressed to the nines.


“Always nice to meet another studio rep,” Kikyou said, her voice gentle and sweet, “I owe a lot of my success to Sunrise, as you may well know.”


“I do indeed,” Sango said, trying to sound more capable than she felt and knowing that the reason Kikyou’s eyes had widened upon seeing her was because of how young she looked.


“Shall we? Our chef Kaede outdid herself for you today! Swordfish and roasted vegetables,” Kikyou slipped Sango’s arm around hers and led her meanderingly through the palacious house. Sango tried not to stare at all the furnishings; each piece was probably more than she made in six months.


“You’ll forgive me if I skip the main course,” Kikyou continued, motioning for Sango to sit down at a dining table that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a medieval castle, “I’m afraid I’ve been on a juice cleanse for the past few weeks.”


“Of course,” Sango said, “Your sister already informed me.”


“Where is that girl?” Kikyou mused, then yelled, “Kagooooome!


Sango winced slightly.


“Coming!” Kagome Higurashi rushed into the room. She was probably a few years younger than Kikyou, but they were definitely related. Where Kikyou’s beauty was all cheekbones and waiflike elegance, Kagome was a few inches shorter, with large doe-like eyes and hair so wavy it almost curled at the ends. She was wearing her own jeans, acid-washed these were, and a cute little cut-off tank. A tomboy, Sango mused.


“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Kagome.” Kagome thrust out her hand. Her smile was genuinely friendly, unlike the serene smile of her famous sister.


“Sango. We spoke on the phone earlier. Nice to put a face to the voice.”


“Who is this?” A male voice muttered from behind Sango, and she turned to see a tall, muscular man with long, dark hair walking in, covered in sweat.


“Naraku, honey, this is the new press agent for Sunrise, Sango Ryogi. She’s here to talk about the awards season with us.”


“It’s Ryoshi, actually,” Sango said softly.


“Oh,” Naraku’s eyes seemed to light up, and he flopped into a chair at the dining table unceremoniously, “Have you started discussing the Oscar pushes yet?”


“Naraku, sweetheart,” Kikyou said lovingly, placing a hand over her beau’s, “She just got here. Let her at least eat first.”


Kagome caught Sango’s eye across the table and winked. Sango gave a small smile in return. This girl seemed very approachable.


A small, squat old woman hobbled in, balancing a large tray of food. The dishes clattered precariously.


“Kaede, let me get that,” Kagome exclaimed, jumping up to take the tray from her, “You already worked so hard today.”


Sango watched the old woman’s expression, and it was one of pure adoration.


“Kaede, I need some water. Room temperature, no ice.” Kikyou didn’t look up from Naraku’s hand, which she was paying all the attention in the world.


Kaede nodded wordlessly, and turned back through the swinging kitchen door.


Kagome sighed and sat the tray on the tabletop. Kaede had indeed outdone herself, as Kikyou had said. The swordfish and vegetables looked fantastic.


Sango took her plate and hesitated. Was this like royalty protocol? Did she have to wait for Kikyou to eat before she--


“Go ahead,” Kagome said, obviously a psychic and a mind reader, “Kikyou will probably just pick at hers.”


“Kagome, please,” Kikyou said, her face smiling but her eyes stern, “You’re embarrassing me.”


Kagome just gave a wry smile and shot Sango a wink when no one was looking.


“So I think the first thing to discuss is the Hollywood Film Awards,” Sango said quickly, pulling her small, leather-bound planner out of her bag, “As you know, they’re the first in the line, and not extremely important as far as earmarkers for Oscar noms go, but still--”


“Excuse me, Sango,” Kikyou’s serene smile hadn’t moved from her face, “I think you’ll find this isn’t my first time doing this.”


Sango fought back a blush. “O-of course, of course,” she tried to recover, “I was just--”


“The Hollywood Film Awards are nothing. Small-time. If I win, of course I’ll post a short video on Instagram and Twitter saying how grateful I am, but I’m not getting all dressed up to hear another drunken speech by old Hollywood has-beens.”


Sango glanced at Kagome, who was giving her a sympathetic smile.


“It’s the December awards we want to start with,” Kagome said gently, “The New York and L.A. Film Critics ones. If we do it like we did two years ago, we’ll do one and not the other. We don’t want to look too eager to the press. Isn’t that right, Kikyou?”


Kikyou shrugged, looking bored with the whole thing and taking a tiny bite of carrot.


“And then January is big - Critics’ Choice, People’s Choice, SAG Awards, and of course the Globes. We’re expecting a nomination from the Globes for sure, and we’re hopeful about the others. Of course, we’ll know more in December.


“And then of course February - the biggie. Good ol’ Oscar.” Kagome grinned.


Kikyou looked at Kagome pointedly. “Why do I need to be here for this?”


Before Kagome could respond, Kikyou turned back to Sango, her smile gone. “Are you here to talk to me or her?”


Sango stammered. “Well, both, I mean--I think both of you are helpful--”


“Tell you what. I am exhausted, everyone in the press hates me right now, and I’ve gone a full year without an award nomination. Get it done. Talk to her.” Kikyou threw her thumb over her shoulder at Kagome, who was suddenly very interested in her roast veggies.


And with that, the most famous actress in the entire world stood up from the table and stalked off to the garden.


Naraku took a final bite of his swordfish, pulling the bones out with his teeth. “There, now, you see? You pissed her off. Thanks to you I have to go calm her down. Studio publicist, my ass.” He shoved his chair back and tossed his fork to the table with a clatter, then left as well.


Sango sat there stunned. What the hell just happened? Man, these people turn on a dime.


Kagome stood to collect the dirty plates, her face resigned.


“I’m awfully sorry,” Sango said softly, “I don’t know what I just did wrong.”


Kagome stopped, leaving the stack on the table surface. “You did nothing wrong,” she said insistently, “You’ll just find a lot of that attitude in this town. No patience for anyone who’s not straight to the point. They’re rich and spoiled and forget how to treat people. Hell, I should know. She’s my sister.”


Sango shoved her planner back into her purse, feeling her face redden. “I’m very new at doing this all on my own. Miroku used to handle all the stars directly.”


“I know,” Kagome said, coming around to put a hand on Sango’s shoulder, “From now on, just talk to me. My phone’s always on and I’m here to help.”


Sango wondered if jumping up and hugging this girl would be unprofessional. Probably so.


“Listen, I’m actually going out on my own tonight for the first time in forever. I’ve got to meet an old, old friend who you should probably meet too, and if it’s not too much trouble, maybe you can come with me. We’re going to the Hyde Lounge.”


“The-the Hyde Lounge?” Sango said, “I think that’s a little rich for my blood.”


“Mine too,” Kagome said with a giggle, “but hey, think of it like we’re actresses playing a part. You know, Hollywood people.”

 


 

 

“I still don’t know why you picked this place,” Inuyasha muttered, keeping his head lowered as he leaned back against the crocodile-embossed velvet booth, “I prefer places where there aren’t lines of autograph hounds trying to get photos outside.”


“The reason I picked this place should be obvious,” Miroku said, nodding across the velvet ropes where various babes in bandage dresses and stilettos were standing around, enjoying their buzzes and whispering to themselves at the sight of both of them.


Inuyasha had his hair in a low braid and a knit cap on his head, but there was no hiding when your look was that distinctive. He sighed. “Did you at least tell the doorman about the girls?”


“Which girls?”


“Kagome and her friend she’s bringing. What the hell do you mean which girls--you schmuck.”


“Surely they’d just let Kagome in. She looks enough like a poor man’s Kikyou Higurashi to be an asset to their business.” Miroku took a drag of his smoke and a sip of his whiskey.


Inuyasha fought back a growl and stood up to skulk toward the front entrance, shoving his way through the crowd of girls.


It’s times like these I understand why even Schwarzenegger has a bodyguard, he mused as the girls squealed and clamored for his attention.


“Scuse me, ladies,” he said, fighting to keep his voice civil as he pushed through.


The doorman was arguing with some reality show stars who were pulling the old don’t-you-know-who-I-am. Inuyasha clapped a gentle hand over his shoulder. When the reality TV thespians caught sight of him, their jaws dropped open and they fell completely silent.


“There are two girls coming to meet us. I’d be appreciative if you just let them in without incident or drawing too much attention. Send them right to VIP.” He held up a folded $100 bill in two fingers.


The doorman accepted gladly. “How will I know who they are?”


“If anyone asks to see me, ask them which Judas Priest album is the best one.”


“And what’s the answer?”

 


 

 

“How is that even a question?” Kagome said, grinning, “‘Sad Wings of Destiny’ wins every time!”


“Right this way, ladies,” the doorman said, “Straight up the stairs to the VIP loft.”


Kagome was definitely uncomfortable in her blue lace dress and heels, but she had to admit, getting all dolled up once in a while could be fun. There were even a few stares on the street when she and Sango walked by. No doubt people thinking for a split second that she was Kikyou.


“Who is Judas Priest?” Sango asked quietly as they ascended the staircase.


“Our favorite band,” Kagome replied, trying to keep the wistful tone out of her voice and failing.


“Our?” Sango said, then stopped short, dead still, eyes wide.


Kagome turned, holding her breath.


There he was.

Chapter 4: Speaking My Language

Summary:

In which an adorable friendship is rekindled, and a morally dubious plan is hatched.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Four

Speaking My Language

 

 

Kagome fought back the urge to grin like a drooling idiot and run up to him. That was what silly idiot fangirls do, and she’d known this man since she was all of fifteen years old. He had been almost family at one point, almost…


Almost married to my sister.


With a slight shake of her head, Kagome did her best to keep her walk steady as she waited for the guard to unclip the velvet rope and let her and Sango into the VIP area.


“Kagome!” Miroku said, a cigarette dangling from his lip and five-o-clock stubble betraying him as a little disheveled. He stood and grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground. She laughed and hugged back. Inuyasha hadn’t moved from his seat; he was just looking at her.


“Good to see you, Miroku,” she said, “and I brought Sango to meet--Sango?”


Sango was still standing at the room’s entrance, looking scandalized and embarrassed. Kagome had thought it was because she was in the presence of the great and perfect Inuyasha, but realized immediately that she was staring straight at Miroku.


“Oh great,” Miroku said when his eyes followed Kagome’s gaze, and he downed the rest of his drink.


“Houshi,” Sango said, her voice steady and her face steely, “How about that company phone now that we’ve seen each other?” She strode up to the table and sat down. Amazing how her confidence can just flip like that when she’s on a mission, Kagome thought.


“I, uh, don’t have it on me,” Miroku said, staring at his empty glass sheepishly.


“Well, this is awkward,” Kagome said with a grin as she sat down, then she realized she’d just placed herself right next to Inuyasha, who as of yet hadn’t said a word.


She placed both hands on the table and stared at her dark blue nail polish.


“Drink orders, ladies?” The cocktail waitress was scantily clad and staring at both men rather than at the women to whom she was speaking.


“Cuba Libre, please,” Kagome said.


Sango raised a single eyebrow, her eyes still on Miroku. “How about a bottle of Dom?” she said, “On him?” She pointed at the black-haired man still standing across from her. Miroku grimaced, then looked to the waitress and nodded with a weak smile.


“That’s for two?” the waitress asked expectantly.


“No, four. Full bottle service please,” Miroku seemed to recover instantly and took it all in stride, “Sango’s right. It’s not a party without champagne!”


Kagome smiled; Sango did not.


“Inuyasha, aren’t you going to say anything? You’re being a real stick in the mud, man,” Miroku eased his way back into the booth.


Kagome glanced at Inuyasha to her left and found him looking right back at her, his face betraying a serene smile.


“How are you, Inuyasha?” Kagome began, and then he immediately grinned and grabbed her somewhat roughly around the shoulders, pulling her in for a side hug.


“Good to see you, kiddo,” he said, and she fought the blush for what would be the first of many, many times this evening, no doubt.


Immediately, Miroku stood up and reached for Sango’s hand, which she snatched back. “Sango, I suppose I should talk to you about getting you that contact info back. Come over to the second table and we’ll discuss it.”


Sango’s eyes narrowed, then she looked at Kagome questioningly, then back at Miroku with a slightly less angry expression. “Okay, fine.”


And they were alone at the table, Kagome sitting next to the man who had very nearly been her brother-in-law as of less than a year ago. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear demurely.


Inuyasha was watching the waitress prepare bottle service behind the bar, obviously appreciating her shapely frame. “How’s your sister?”


Kagome jumped slightly. “Fine,” she said, “Kikyou’s just fine.”


“Still with that asshat?”


“She is. He lives with us now.”


The expression in Inuyasha’s eyes darkened but the smile remained. “I read that in the papers, but I learned long ago to not put much stock in the papers.” The hand closed around his drink tightened enough to quiver the ice cubes.


There was a pronounced silence despite the thrumming of the club music downstairs.


Finally Kagome could bear it no longer. “I’m sorry for not calling or texting,” she cried, turning in her seat to properly face him, the words tumbling out in waves, “I should have been there for you during all this--”


“She’s your sister, Kagome. You had no choice.”


Kagome shook her head. “I did have a choice. You were my friend. I was going to text you, but by the time I worked up the courage it was already so long, and--”


“Hey,” Inuyasha said, holding up a hand, “Stop it, already. Always trying to fix everybody, that’s your problem. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself. Don’t worry about it.”
Kagome’s mouth closed gently, and she managed a meek smile. “I’m glad to see you now,” she said. If only you knew how much.


“Likewise, kiddo,” he said, ruffling her hair, then looking bemused at the texture, “What do you have in here, glue?”


“Hey!” she said, slapping his hand away, “This shit took forever! You try getting hair that’s permanently wild to lie flat once in awhile!”


She felt her phone buzz through her purse. She ignored it.

 


 

 

“They seem to be back to normal,” Miroku mused, holding his champagne glass aloft, his elbows on the table.


Sango took a sip from her own glass. “What’s the story there?”


“You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t tell me you don’t read gossip magazines; they’re our bread and butter in this line of work.”


“I mean, I know what happened with him and Kikyou Higurashi,” Sango said, exasperated, “but I thought it was a fairly friendly breakup. I mean, there were the cheating rumors on her part, but there always are. I figured they just fizzled out.”


Miroku laughed out loud. “Hoooo boy, hope you’re ready for this.”


He scooted around in the booth so he was sitting right next to her. Sango fought the urge to scoot away, but then he leaned in close conspiratorially. He smelled of expensive cologne and smoke and whiskey. Not altogether unpleasant, she thought. Focus, girl, he’s your ex-boss and he’s kind of a shit.


“So you know all about ‘Kikyasha,’” Miroku began, “but what you don’t know is just how long they were together. They were an item when both of them started in Hollywood. That was almost eight years ago, when they were both just twenty-year-old kids hungry for a career in showbiz.


“It was his agent that originally suggested it. They were fairly frequent costars even when their names didn’t carry any weight, and what better way to get the buzz going than some dating rumors? But then it turned real, and for a long time they were--”


“--the It Couple,” Sango interjected, “Everyone’s relationship goals.”


“Exactly,” Miroku said, sipping his champagne, “but that’s where it went wrong. Fame changes everybody in different ways, and that level of fame, with the awards and the private planes and the mansions, in a span of a few years...well suffice it to say, Inuyasha’s pretty much still the same guy he always was. An idiot, but a cool idiot, you know?”


“And Kikyou’s a rich bitch,” Sango said tartly, “I had the pleasure of meeting her in person this afternoon.”


“Piece of work, ain’t she?” Miroku flashed her a grin, “And poor Kagome has been caught in the middle the whole time. Won’t ever turn down an order Kikyou gives her; it’s like she’s been conditioned to act that way.”


“I like her a lot,” Sango confessed, “She’s already been a ton of help with handling things on Kikyou’s end of the scheduling.”


“Kagome’s a peach,” Miroku said, “If she were a little older and a little more wild, I’d be all over that.”


Sango glared at him. “Are you always this shallow, or am I just lucky to see this side of you?”


“I’m always like this, darlin. You should be flattered I like you enough to be frank with you.”


Don’t you dare blush, Sango told herself. “Well, I think she’s lucky you aren’t trying with her. She’s got enough to deal with as it is.”


Miroku grinned and poured another glass of champagne from the huge bottle. “I avoid pursuing Kagome not out of the goodness of my heart, but because someone would tear out my intestines if I did.”

 


 

 

“That was a great trick, by the way,” Kagome said, her blue eyes sparkling with laughter as she took a sip of the expensive champagne. She leaned back against the velvety surface of the booth, the drink obviously making her comfortable and at ease.


“What was?” Inuyasha asked, cigarette dangling from his lip. He was starting to feel drunker than he normally would at this point in the night, like maybe the booze was working better than usual to quiet his mind.


“The doorman,” she replied, grinning, “with the Judas Priest. I still can’t believe you actually agreed that ‘Sad Wings of Destiny’ was their best album. We’ve argued over this before.”


“I didn’t tell him that. Priest’s best album always was and forever will be ‘Painkiller.’ I just told the guy, ‘If the girl knows an answer, send her up, because she’s obviously the one I’m looking for.’”


Her eyes narrowed in mock annoyance. They were lined with black tonight, with just a smidge of gold at the corners. She’d gone to a lot of trouble. It looked great.


“What if some random chick had happened to know a Priest album?” she said, faking shock.


“Then I may be interested in getting to know her better. And you’d have to settle for waiting outside with the paps.”


“Oh, please,” she said, “Admit it. You missed me, just a little.”


This was bolder than she usually was; the champagne must be going to her head somewhat as well. Inuyasha inhaled another drag of his cigarette and went to ruffle her hair again. “I did.”


“And you’re going to be happy I’m here,” she said, slurring her words just a little as she took another gulp of champagne, “because you don’t have to face Kikyou alone through awards season.”


She just had to go there, didn’t she? Inuyasha’s smile faded.


“So,” he said, eager to change the subject, “Any boyfriends since we last saw each other?”


Kagome coughed a little, looking almost puzzled, like the idea was foreign to her. Same old Kagome, no obvious interest in anyone, just work, work, work.


“Come onnnn,” Inuyasha said, nudging her a little, “No production assistants on your sister’s latest rom com to distract you?”


Kagome’s face reddened and she looked away. “No.”


Well, so much for changing the subject and making it less awkward.


“How’s the photography stuff going?” Should have asked that first, you asshole. He could have kicked himself.


“I haven’t had time lately,” she said, brightening up a bit but still looking a little downtrodden, “Kikyou’s had a lot of events.”


God, why was this awkward? Not half a year ago they had been throwing popcorn at each other behind Kikyou’s back during movie night on the sofa.


A lot of things had changed. Kagome had changed. She looked...older, somehow. Less a punk ass kid and more a young woman.


Inuyasha wasn’t sure how he felt about that.


“Does...Kikyou ever mention me?”


“She does,” Kagome said, sipping her drink again and apparently refusing to elaborate. Her phone buzzed in her lap. She stared down at it, hesitated, and turned the ringer off.


“It will be weird to see her,” he admitted, “I guess it’s always weird when you think you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with somebody, and…” He trailed off.


“Hey,” she said, holding up her champagne glass and turning to face him again, “You’re the most famous person in the history of, like, ever. You’ll get through this. And you’ll win a fucking Oscar.”


“Watch your goddamn mouth,” he grinned, “Let’s at least get through the Globes first.”

 


 

 

“So I’m sure you’re thinking the obvious,” Miroku said as Sango polished off her third (fourth?) glass of champagne.


“That you’ll return my company phone to me as soon as possible?” She wiped her mouth delicately.


“That we should combine forces for the next few months. I want my client to win all the awards, and your resume would look great if you got the studio multiple wins in your first year as a head agent.”

“Keep talking,” Sango said, motioning for Miroku to refill her glass.

“With my connections and your, shall we say, fresh new take on the biz, I’d say we could pull a clean sweep this season.”


“Speaking of which, have you even seen the movie?”


“No.”


“Well I have, and it’s not that great,” Sango said, “This is just between us, but the studio’s pulled it for a major hack job and recut. Apparently the performances are fine, but the plot’s a big fucking mess.”


“It’s not important,” Miroku said, lighting another cigarette, “All that’s important is the marketing, and the rest is just--wait, you got to see the movie?


“Yes,” Sango blinked, “Last week.”


“What the hell? And I wasn’t even invited? I didn’t know they were firing me until two days ago!” Miroku glared into the half-empty bottle of Dom on the table.


Sango awkwardly finished off her glass.


“Better slow down on that shit,” Miroku said, his tone coming off more snappish than he intended. “Sorry,” he mumbled.


“Listen,” Sango said, her words beginning to run together, “I know you got fucked over. I get it. But I still have a job to do. And I have a plan for Oscar season that leaves us all smelling like roses.”


“Okay, you’re touching me in my nice places. Let me have it.”


Sango rolled her eyes. “Okay, so Kikyasha was the It Couple, right? Everyone obsessed with them, wanting to be them, et cetera?”


“Yeah.”


“The press will care about this movie and so will the public if they think Kikyou and Inuyasha are getting back together.”


Miroku choked on his drink. “Are you absolutely insane?


“It just has to look like it might happen,” Sango mused, ignoring his overreaction, “A shining, beautiful reunion in front of the cameras. Whispers abounding that maybe, just maybe, true love might prevail after all.”


“So you want me to manipulate my client, one of my best friends of several years, into spending time with a woman whom we all know to be the spawn of Satan in hopes that she takes him back, all to promote a movie for awards season?”


Sango said nothing, just shrugged.


Miroku grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Babe,” he said, “You are speaking my language.”

Chapter 5: Victim of Changes

Summary:

In which Kagome and Kikyou have a very one-sided argument, and Sango reveals her amazing ability to hatch evil plans of doom.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Five

Victim of Changes

 

Kagome was well and properly drunk. And it was fabulous. She couldn’t remember the last time she had just let loose like this. Her shoes weren’t working, though. Weird. She decided to just carry them and walk barefoot.


She climbed out of the cab and pressed the gate code. Why people in Bev Hills need driveways half a mile long I’ll never know, she thought as she stumbled forward. Oh well, she needed the exercise. Work off some of those champagne calories.


When she finally reached the front door, she was careful to tiptoe in after punching the second security code.


No need to wake up--


“Nice of you to join us.”


Shit.


Kagome turned around, knowing what a shitshow she must look like. Kikyou was standing there in all her glory, white satin robe, hair in a towel, arms crossed.


“I’ve been waiting for you to dry my hair all night,” Kikyou said, her lips drawn into a thin line of fury.


Well, we know that’s not true, her hair wouldn’t still be wet. Kagome sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said gently, “The time got away from me. I was just continuing the meeting with Sango and with Inuyasha’s people--”


“You what?!” Kikyou shrieked, eyes wide, “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all night and you’ve been out partying? With him?


“Kikyou, I just--”


“I can’t believe you! What’s wrong with you lately?” And there came the tears. Kikyou flung herself onto the white chaise lounge, which couldn’t have been comfortable as it was sort of just for show.


“Kikyou--” Kagome said. No use.


“I just ask for your help and I tell you I can’t do any of this on my own and you abandon me when I need you most!”


That’s every single day. I get no days off, ever. I get no time to myself, ever. Kagome was trying not to boil over.


“To go suck up to my ex-fiance, no less! Talk about family loyalty! What if someone saw you?” Kikyou just couldn’t let it rest.


Okay, Kagome was definitely drunk; Kikyou’s yelling never got her angry unless she was.


“Good night, Kikyou,” she said in a clipped tone, and stumbled toward her room.


“Where are you going?” Kikyou demanded, lifting her head up and calling down the hallway.


“I’m going to sleep!” Kagome snapped, opening the door and tossing her shoes to the floor. She was definitely going to hear about it in the morning, but right now she didn’t care.


Her phone buzzed, and for a moment she thought it was Kikyou (it was almost always Kikyou). But it was Inuyasha’s name that popped up, and she snatched it up and unlocked it to read the message.


“Missed you, kiddo. Glad to catch up tonight. Hope to see you at Blades of Blood and Glory premiere next weekend. Bring your sister. Or don’t.” And a smile emoji.


She tossed the phone onto her bedcovers.


Sliding out of her dress, she took a second to stare at herself in the mirror. All she saw looking back in the dim light of her lamp was Kikyou’s face. Less chiseled, sure, less refined and aristocratic looking. Less like Hollywood royalty. Always the baby sister.


She turned off the lamp and threw herself into bed.

 


 

 

“You gonna be okay getting home?” Miroku said, “Or should we share a cab?”


“Are you kidding?” Sango slurred, “My brain’s too full of ideas right now. Let’s go to another bar.” She stumbled, knocking into him. “Damn shoes,” she said, “Sorry about that. Let’s go to another bar.”


“You already said that,” Miroku said.


“Well, I mean it.”


“It’s damn near 4 am, Sango. Bars usually close at some point.”


“Then we’ll go to your place,” Sango said matter-of-factly, “We need to go over plans for the premiere next weekend. That movie. You know. What’s it called--”


“--’Blades of Blood and Glory?’”


“That’s the one,” she said, “It’s Inuyasha and Kikyou’s first time on the same red carpet in months, and we have to make it count.”


“You know,” Miroku said, propping her up slightly as she was teetering on her heels, “We can discuss this in the morning when you’ve had some rest; it’s not illegal.”


“Don’t be condescending. This can’t wait. It’s too important.” She pulled away from him and stepped to the curb to hail a cab. “We’ll go to your place. Got any junk food?”


I’ve created a goddamn monster, Miroku thought.

 


 

 

The house was so big and always seemed so empty whenever Inuyasha got home from the bar at night. Maybe that was why he avoided being alone at home whenever possible. Nazuna was long gone by now, as were the rest of the help, gone to the guest houses on the edge of the property.


The second he was inside, he did the traditional thing and went straight to the bar to pour another drink. Traditions were important, after all, even if they were only a few months old.


He poured himself two fingers of his ridiculously expensive whiskey (he supposed he could have done the cheaper stuff; after all, his senses were dulled enough by now that the taste wouldn’t have changed much) and sat on his leather couch in his giant living room, surrounded by his expensive things.


He’d at least had the sense to throw out that old photo of him and Kikyou a few weeks ago before Miroku saw it. Okay, so he’d thrown it out after finally tossing it across the room like a fucking NFL quarterback in the middle of the night, but the point was the same. No one else had to see that he was still a pathetic mess about the situation. No one had to know but him.


The photo had been of them on their engagement day. He’d proposed to her almost two whole years ago, in front of a room full of partygoers at her 26th birthday party. They’d just finished their second of four films together and were on top of the world--the “It Couple,” everyone called them, and he’d agreed with them.


And she’d accepted, making sure to get every angle possible of the ring in photos and acting like she was utterly thrilled.


Inuyasha buried his head in his hands. How could you want to be with someone and not even like them at the same time? It was all bullshit.


He glanced at his phone, downing the rest of his whiskey. Kagome had read his text about twenty minutes ago, but hadn’t replied. Probably asleep by now, poor girl. Kikyou was sure to give her an earful when she found out where Kagome had been.


Kagome. Same as always, just half a year older. And somehow that had made all the difference. It was still hard to reconcile the sight of her in a dress and heels. Kagome was and had always been just Kagome, for all eight years he’d known her. Where Kikyou was complicated and dramatic and kept him crawling back for more, Kagome was just easy hugs and smiles and unconditional friendship.


At least he had that, he supposed.


He picked up the remote to his sound system. “Play Judas Priest, ‘Victim of Changes,’” he said into the recorder, and the song began. He would go with Kagome’s preference on this tonight, even though she was wrong about this album being superior.

 


 

 

“You’re not listening to me,” Sango said, looking up from her black planner where she was scribbling notes.


Miroku was rummaging around his record collection in the living room of his own spacious condo, perusing through the numerous titles looking for the perfect selection. “Gimme a second, jeez,” he muttered.


“I’m saying we arrange a reunion. In front of the cameras. On the red carpet. They’ll have to be on their best behavior! It’s perfect.”


“I hear you, I hear you.” Would Marvin Gaye be a little too obvious right now? Miroku supposed so. Otis Redding was at least a little more subtle. He pulled the record from the sleeve and stuck it on the turntable. Perfect.


“Another drink, Sango?” he asked, heading to the kitchen.


“White wine, if you have it,” she said, not looking up, “We need to coordinate their outfits to match for the photos, but subtly, like it was an accident.”


“Were you always this mercenary?” Miroku asked, shaking his head and pouring the wine.


“Always,” she said, “I was just on my best behavior til I got to work for myself.”


Miroku shoved the cork back into the bottle. “Well, I’m happy to have obliged,” he said, fighting to keep the bitter edge out of his voice.


She looked up, her eyes meeting his. “I really am sorry,” she said softly.


“Wasn’t your fault,” he said, “I promise to stop bringing it up.” He walked over to the coffee table where she sat and handed her the glass, then sat on the couch next to her.


“So what do you think? About the slightly coordinated outfits? Just different shades of a similar color, maybe?”


“A little too obvious,” Miroku shook his head, “We play games with the press and they know it, but they don’t like it rubbed in their faces, if you get my meaning. Honestly, at this point, why not have everyone arrive at the premiere together? A large group of five or six. We could call Kouga’s people and have him bring a date.”


“So that would be…” Sango started scribbling, her long brown hair falling forward over her bare shoulders, “Inuyasha, Kikyou, Naraku, Kouga, Kouga’s plus one, and Kagome?”


“Not Kagome. She rides in the car, but she’s there to hold Kikyou’s dress for red carpets. She’s not officially a guest; doesn’t get dinner tickets or anything.”


Sango tapped her pen on her mouth with a frown. She needed to cut that out, it was driving him crazy. “Doesn’t seem fair, does it? She works just as hard as we do, and she’s in the back with the waiters.”


“It’s Hollywood, babe. Nothing’s fair unless you’re at the top of the totem pole, and Kagome’s there by proxy. Should be good enough for her that she gets the nice mansion digs and the expensive salary. I’ve never heard her complain.”


“I suppose.” Sango leaned back on the couch and crossed her legs, pen still in hand, “Well, I guess that covers everything for tonight. Guess I’ll call a cab.”


“Don’t bother, I’ll put you up in the spare bedroom.”


Sango gave a knowing smile and stood up. “Thanks, but no thanks. I am well aware of your reputation, Houshi.”


“Miroku.”


“I just think we should keep things professional, okay?”


“I completely agree,” Miroku said with a grin, “but if you ever change your mind let me know.”


Sango rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll just try to get a cab on my own, thanks. See you tomorrow, Houshi.”

 


 

 

“Heyyyy.”


Kagome’s eyes shot open. She was buried under her covers, in her own room, wearing her own pajamas. That was good.


Who the hell was in bed with her? And then Kagome felt long slender arms wrap around her shoulders, inhaled the smell of Chanel, and she knew.


“I’m sorry if I was a little moody last night,” Kikyou said, pressing her face into Kagome’s shoulder blade, “You know how I get anxious without you.”


“I know,” Kagome said with a soft sigh and a smile despite herself, “It’s okay.”
“Did you have fun?”


“I did.”


“How...how was Inuyasha?”


“Looks good, considering,” Kagome murmured, keen to keep as much to herself as possible, “He asked after you. I told him you were happy.”


Kikyou was quiet for a moment. “Did you spend that whole time at the club with him?”


“Yeah. We just sat there for hours, catching up.”


“Did you dance with him?”


“Okay,” Kagome sat up and turned to face her sister, “What is this?”


Kikyou looked singularly innocent, her eyes wide. “I’m just curious. You used to tell me everything and I feel like you’re keeping things from me.”


Kagome sighed. “I’m not, I promise. Satisfied?”


“Yep!” Kikyou’s smile was bright. “Also, Kaede’s here and she says she’ll make scrambled eggs but I want you to do it. Yours are better.”


Kagome fought back a groan and slid out of the covers. “Anything else you need?”


“Oh, a grapefruit, halved, and a glass of mineral water,” Kikyou followed Kagome out of her own bedroom and continued into her own room across the hallway, “I’m going to lay down for a few more minutes; I’m just exhausted.”

 


 

 

Inuyasha woke to the sound of Nazuna entering through the side entrance and gave a very unbecoming snort of surprise. He was still sitting upright on the couch. The music had long since turned itself off, but his final glass of whiskey was still sitting unfinished on the coffee table in front of him.


“Mr. Takahashi, sir, you should really learn to get yourself to bed on time,” Nazuna said in her gently reprimanding way, “A good amount of sleep is necessary to function.”


“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Inuyasha muttered, “I’m gonna take a shower. Has anyone called the house since last night?”


“Yes sir, you got a phone call from a Miss Higurashi early this morning. It sounded urgent.”


Kagome called?


Inuyasha immediately grabbed his phone, which was on around ten percent battery. He punched in her number and waited.


“...Hello?” He could hear what sounded like bacon frying in the background and supposed she was making breakfast.


“Hey,” he said. Real suave there, he thought, great opening line. Maybe he should ask her to lunch today, just the two of them. An easier chance to catch up in a quieter place. A chance to get things between them back to the way they’d always been.


“Everything okay?” Kagome asked. She sounded confused.


“Everything’s fine,” he said, “I was just returning your call from this morning. Sorry, I was a little shitfaced and passed out. Sad state of affairs, huh?”


There was a pause on the other end. “Inuyasha, I didn’t call you this morning. I knew you’d be asleep.”


“Then who the hell--oh.”


“I think you’re looking for my sister. Better give her a call, you know she hates to be kept waiting. Have a good day.” And she hung up.


What in the hell was going on.

Chapter 6: What, Like Cher?

Summary:

In which Kagome struggles not to lose her sanity over evening gowns, Sango hatches phase one of her plan, and Miroku tries to avoid getting strangled by his client

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Six

What, Like Cher?

 

There was absolutely no reason to return her call, he knew. No doubt she’d toy with him again until she was bored of that, and then ghost him once more.

Luckily, Inuyasha got a call from Miroku about five minutes later informing him that he was going to do a photoshoot for Entertainment Weekly today. Normally he would have been annoyed at the late notice, but not today.

He met Miroku at the photography studio around noon, head still spinning from the thought of the phone call that morning. Let her wait. Let her see that he wasn’t waiting around for her. God dammit, he was famous , and he could enjoy the benefits of that without needing Kikyou Higurashi.

This, of course, was what he ranted in the car to Miroku on the way to dinner that evening. Miroku seemed to humor him, as he always did, but in that exasperated, patronizing manner he was a master of.

“I think you’re doing the right thing,” Miroku said, rolling up the cuffs of his blue button-up as the car pulled into the valet line, “Make her wait on you for once. Let her come crawling back.”

“Yeah,” Inuyasha agreed, feeling more and more confident, “Let her be the one to miss me for a change!”

They exited the car and Inuyasha handed the valet his keys. 

“...So you don’t think I should call her back, right?”

“No.”

“Alright, good. Me neither.”

 


 

Sango was letting herself soak in the tub. Walking in those 6-inch spike heels had been murder on her legs last night (but dammit, they made her into a nearly 6-foot tall Amazonian goddess and it was worth it). A little candlelight, a lavender bath bomb, and some classical music on the speakers. Good way to spend a Sunday evening.

And of course, there went her phone.

“Hello?” she said, refusing to open her eyes. She was not getting out of this tub for another hour; she had lit candles , dammit.

“Sango? It’s Kagome.”

“Hey there,” Sango said, “Did you get the dress all ready to go for Friday?”

“I’m getting there. Finally got her to choose one. We’re going with De La Renta. Draped-silk taffeta in malachite blue. It’s honestly gorgeous, it really is. I just have to call Ms. Paulson and arrange a house-call alteration for the night before.”

“Will they do that?”

Kagome laughed on the other end. “They will for Kikyou Higurashi. She’s a walking advertisement for their clothes.”

“Point taken.” Sango sank a little lower in the tub. 

“I was just calling to check on the transportation arrangements. Is the studio sending a limo for us or should I get it arranged?”

“That’s actually something I was meaning to talk to you about,” Sango replied, “We’ve decided to put everyone in one car. An extra-large stretch, of course, but still.”

There was pointed silence for a good ten seconds. “What.”

“I thought we’d mentioned it to you!” Sango said, trying not to feel too guilty, “Houshi and I were talking, and we think it’s best this season to push the reunion narrative between Kikyou and Inuyasha. I mean, she already said on live TV that they’re still friends and talk all the time, so we’re just...sort of going to go along with that line of thinking.”

“You want to put Kikyou, Naraku, Inuyasha, and god knows who else in one limo for this premiere.” It wasn’t a question.

“And Kouga Okami and whoever he’s dating right now; I think it’s Amy something.”

“Ayame. Just goes by Ayame.” Kagome’s voice was still flat and disbelieving.

“What, like Cher?”

“Yep.”

“Huh. Okay, then her. It’s a great plan, admit it.”

“Have you thought about how you’re possibly going to get Kikyou into that car?”

Sango grinned. “We figured we could call upon you for your sisterly magic.”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. 

“Kagome,” Sango said gently, “This is the way to repair Kikyou’s public image. Everyone’s been thinking of her as the whore of Babylon for almost a year. Let’s get her making nice for the cameras and winning back some goodwill from the press.”

“You’re right,” Kagome said. Her voice was muffled, like she had a hand pressed over her face. “I’ll talk to her. No promises, but I’ll talk to her.”

“You’re a great sister.”

“No, I’m a great assistant. I’ll talk to you later, Sango.”

Sango hung up the phone and immediately dialed Miroku. She didn’t even wait for him to say a greeting.

“I think we got it. I’ll be taking your compliments and tributes for the next few minutes.”

 


 

The next morning, Kagome was on the phone with the dressmakers when Kikyou came barging into her home office.

This ought to be good. Kikyou had kicked and screamed for hours yesterday when Kagome had told her the studio’s automotive arrangements. The only thing that had finally calmed her down was Naraku’s boneheaded statement that he would be there to protect Kikyou in the event of another “horrible attack” from her ex-fiance. Even so, there’d been relatively little peace for Kagome since.

“Yes, Miss Paulson, that should be fine. We need the dress for this Friday. I sent you the measurements so you can alter it and then we’ll do a final fitting here at the house on Thursday afternoon, is that okay? 4 pm? Not a problem. Thanks.” She hung up. “What’s up?”

Kikyou was tapping her finger gently on her lips, looking Kagome up and down carefully, saying nothing.

“That was the people at De La Renta. They’re going to get the dress ready for you to wear to the premiere Friday, the one with the malachite silk that you liked so much last week. Should be ready to go by then. I had them alter the hemline to make it a little higher; it’ll make it easier to walk and you can flaunt your shoe game. Now we just have to get your jewelry on loan and we’re good to go. I’ve already booked the hair and makeup people.” Kagome scribbled a Sticky-Note to herself and stuck it on the giant bulletin board on the wall behind her desk.

“Have you heard from Inuyasha at all today?” Kikyou absentmindedly played with the sleeve of her rose-colored blouse.

“No, why?”

“So strange. I feel sure he would have called me back by now. Oh well, I guess it’s you he wants to talk to nowadays anyway.”

“Kikyou-”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I just thought that before we meet again for the first time in six months and have to ride in a limo together for half an hour, we should probably have a face-to-face, get the initial meeting out of the way so that we’re camera-ready. But hey, you’re the assistant, I’m sure you know what’s best. He won’t return my calls.”

Kagome put a hand in her chin. “Do you want me to call him and arrange it?”

“Would you? Oh, that would be great, thank you!” Kikyou threw her arms around Kagome’s shoulders and kissed her cheek.

“One more thing,” Kikyou said as she left the room, “I changed my mind about the draped silk dress, I want the red off-the-shoulder from Cavalli. You remember. Give them a call and take care of it.”

“Right away,” Kagome said, forcing a grin on her face.

 


 

“We’re what?

“Now, now, Inuyasha, remember that famous temper of yours,” Miroku said calmly as he ducked out of the way of his client’s flying cell phone, “You’re going to break your phone and I’m going to have to spend half a day getting it replaced.”

“You manipulative bastard,” Inuyasha growled the words out, “‘Oh sure, Inuyasha, I’m your friend, I’ve got your best interests at heart-’”

“You of all people know that I do,” Miroku said, holding up his hands protectively in case Inuyasha decided to launch something else at his face, “We have to get the press buzzing about this movie. What better way to do it than see the two of you together again, smiling and happy?”

“So I have to sit in a limo for at least half an hour in LA traffic with Kikyou and that bastard Naraku and god knows who else? This shit isn’t worth it!”

“Inuyasha, deep breath,” Miroku said, “You’re a goddamn pro, okay? You once got mobbed by a group of girls who tried to rip all your clothes off your body. You can handle anything.”

Inuyasha just glared at him.

Okay, time to pull an asshole move , Miroku thought with a sigh.

“Besides,” he said, casually picking up Inuyasha’s phone from the tile floor and reaching to hand it to him, “The whole thing was Kikyou’s idea.”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened. “It-it was?”

“Yeah. She told me not to tell you that, though. I think she might be having second thoughts. So all you have to do is turn on the charm, right buddy?” Wow, I might be the worst human being to ever exist. Where is this even coming from.

Inuyasha’s face was starting to betray a slightly disbelieving smile. “Yeah,” he said softly.

“And listen, pal,” Miroku said, “You might want to actually return that call from her after all. Who knows what might come of it, huh?”

As Inuyasha took his phone back and immediately began dialing, Miroku pulled his own phone out and texted Sango.

“This feels like going too far. I feel like a scumbag. Am I a scumbag?”

The reply from her was “Yeah, probably. Me too. Just close your eyes and picture Oscars and this will all be worth it.”

Chapter 7: Here We Go

Summary:

In which a long-estranged couple are about to reunite, Miroku and Sango hang out in some park bushes, and Kagome snuggles a pomeranian.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Seven

Here We Go

 

“So, like I said, Ms. Paulson, I’m really terribly sorry about the mixup. It was entirely on my end,” Kagome lied. No use in De La Renta being hesitant to dress Kikyou again because of a last-minute snub.

“Yes, of course,” she continued, awkwardly tucking her hair back like she always did when put on the spot like this, “We’re absolutely interested in reserving the dress for future events. We have several things over the next month we’ll want it for. You can just send the dress without alterations; we’ll take care of the rest on our end. Thank you so much, Ms. Paulson, you’ve been a saint.”

As she hung up, Kagome felt the beginnings of a terrible migraine coming on. Great. She massaged her temples gently and closed her eyes for a few moments.

And of course, there went her phone again. Kagome couldn’t help an audible groan as she picked it up.

It was Inuyasha.

“Hello?”

“Hey Kagome, it’s me.”

She fought the urge to smile too wide. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“Is Kikyou there?”

“...Yes?” 

“Can I...can I talk to her?”

“Why didn’t you just call her phone?” Kagome began tapping her pen on the table distractedly.

“She called the house and didn’t leave a return number. I guess she changed it after we--”

“She did. Honestly, though, she just asked me to talk to you. She wants the two of you to meet up before the premiere on Friday. Somewhere secret.”

“Secret where?” It was funny, she thought, how the mention of her sister could send a three-time People Magazine’s Sexiest Man in the World into a stammering fit. “The second I go near your house I’ll have the paps all over me.”

“Well, I was thinking about that. I’ll drive her to MacArthur Park and you can meet us there. You can both stay in the car so no one spots you and I’ll wait on a bench a few feet away. Obviously you have a lot you need to talk about.”

“Kagome--”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kagome forced a smile onto her face, hoping somehow that it would translate through the phone, “I’m always happy to help you out. Shall we say tonight, after closing? 9 pm?”

“9 pm.”

“Great!” she said, her voice chipper, “See you tonight. I’ll bring the queen, you bring yourself.”

Yes, she thought as she hung up the phone, she was definitely getting a migraine. And heartburn. And possibly a fever. She buried her face in her hands and sighed. I’m a great assistant, I’m a great assistant, I’m a great assistant.

 


 

Sango was multitasking as only she could, on the phone with one contact while taking notes about another. 

She sat at the desk in her new office, the desk Miroku had been sitting at for years before her. Her long legs, resting on the desktop, were clad in a pair of very smart jeans that she’d kicked herself for buying at first because of the price. But hell, it was her second week making a six-figure salary, so she’d convinced herself to indulge.

“Not a bad look for you,” a voice said behind her, and Sango tossed her head over her shoulder to look, her ponytail swinging like a pendulum.

Miroku was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a sly smile on his face as usual.

“What are you doing here?” Sango said, raising an eyebrow, her hand over the phone receiver.

“Stopped by to see you,” Miroku said, “Do I really need an excuse?”

How was this idiot so fucking charming all the time? It really boiled her blood and made her feel like the nervous, quiet intern again. She quickly ended her phone call with an “I’ll call you back,” and turned to face him.

“How did you get past security?” she asked suspiciously, folding her arms across her chest.

“Sango, dear, it’s me,” he said, walking past her and making himself comfortable in one of the leather-bound chairs near the window.

“Mr. Warner’s on his way here,” Sango said quickly, trying to reassert herself, “and if he finds you here he’s going to freak out. You need to leave.”

“Warner’s in China for negotations on a merger,” Miroku said, leaning back comfortably, hands behind his head, “Don’t try to con a con man, babe.”

Okay, now she was actually getting mad. “What do you want?” she snapped, “I have work to do, you know. I don’t just get to lounge around and wait on a single client; I’m responsible for over seventy events just in the next few months.”

“Don’t I remember,” Miroku said with a grin, “but honestly, I just came here to let you know that your little plan is starting to come to life. We’ve got Inuyasha and Kikyou meeting tonight in MacArthur Park, secretly . I just got off the phone with Inuyasha and he was a nervous wreck. Kind of adorable, actually.”

“You’re kidding!” Sango’s annoyance was forgotten and she clapped her hands to her face in glee.

“Yeah, so I was making sure you aren’t busy tonight. We’ve got a papparazzi call to arrange.”

“Houshi,” Sango said, her smile wide, “you’re a genius.”

Miroku’s eyes widened slightly. Sango swore for a second he was blushing . In an instant he had recovered and was the same old Miroku, suave and self-assured.

So he liked being called a genius, did he? Sango filed that away in her mental rolodex for later.

 


 

“Call him and tell him I’ve changed my mind,” Kikyou said, tossing the latest blouse at Kagome after deeming it unworthy, “I’m not going.”

“You really need to do this, Kikyou,” Kagome said, sliding the shirt onto a hanger expertly and tossing it into the closet. It caught on the rack and hung there perfectly. Ten points , she mused.

“Where’s that pink Chanel blouse? With the sweetheart neckline?” Kikyou demanded, her attention immediately back to her clothes. 

“Should be in there.” Kagome flopped back onto her sister’s luxurious bed, raising one sock-clad foot into the air and closing her eyes.

“Here it is,” Kikyou exclaimed, tossing the hanger to the floor and throwing the shirt on like it wasn’t upwards of eight hundred dollars, then tucking it into the cream-colored skirt.

“Looks good,” Kagome said from her sideways viewpoint. Kikyou always looked good no matter what she wore. 

When Kagome had been younger, she remembered looking in magazines at fashion models and wondering how they made beauty look so effortless. She hadn’t realized at the time that in a few years her own sister would become one of these women--the ones who always looked like a goddess whether in jeans or an evening gown.

Kikyou, for her part, looked herself up and down in the full-length antique mirror, frowned, and said, “I’m not going. Call him and tell him I’m sick, Kagome.”

“I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to lie for you. Not to him.” The pomeranian had jumped onto the bed beside her, and Kagome gladly picked him up and placed him onto her stomach.

Kikyou heaved a great and dramatic sigh. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have him on my side just a little through all this. Keep him from running his mouth to the press at any point. Ugh, it’s just so hard being someone that people just can’t get over.” She spritzed Chanel No. 5 on her wrists and slid her Louboutins on. “Come on, Kagome, let’s get this over with.”

Kagome snuggled the pom one last time and rolled up off the bed, following Kikyou out of the room. “And here...we...go,” she muttered under her breath.

 


 

Miroku was really sick of sitting in these bushes. They could have just called the paps, but no, Sango at her core was still young and green and wanted to “be in on the action.” So here he was, with grass creeping into his pants legs and scratchy brambles rubbing the back of his neck.

Not that he was going to complain out loud. Sango just looked so excited . Probably having flashbacks to playing James Bond games as a kid. She sat crouching next to him, her ponytail full of leaves, a pair of binoculars in her hands.

The paparazzo they had hired was in the bush next to them, his camera at the ready. Miroku hadn’t caught his name, but he was your typical photo hound - cue ball head, sleazy expression, weird board shorts - and it seemed like he was going to get the job done.

“Remember,” Miroku said, “Don’t use your flash. Night vision only if you have to, but keep it clear. We want a good shot of them looking comfortable with each other. Smiling, like. If they know we’re here, we’re all fired.”

“Maybe you are,” the pap said, “Frankly, if you let me take video this might be a bit more juicy.”

“No,” Miroku said firmly. He was drawing the line there. Served him right for being close friends with his now only client. Attack of the conscience, even if only partially.

The pap shrugged and returned to prepping his camera. 

Sango shifted her weight onto her other leg. Miroku couldn’t help but stare; those new jeans of hers were doing her every favor possible.

“Houshi!” she said suddenly, turning to face him and stopping short when they both realized how close their faces were to each other. She cleared her throat and he scooted away ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Should I have told Kagome to park in a spot with better overhead lighting?” Her brow was furrowed in thought and concentration.

“Oh.”

“I was just thinking, maybe I could have let her know on the sly that we’d be there for a photo op--”

The spot they had picked wasn’t lit the best, it was true; just one halogen streetlamp illuminated the area. They had to hope and pray their targets parked in a spot that wasn’t pitch black.

“No, no,” Miroku said softly, “We don’t want to do that. No need to drag poor Kagome into our machinations; she has enough on her plate as it is.”

“I don’t know,” Sango said. There she went again with the damn finger tapping her lips. “Kagome really seems like someone who’ll do bat for us if push comes to shove. She’s very committed to her sister’s career and to getting her back in the spotlight.”

“Oh, she is, no question,” Miroku said, laying a hand gently on Sango’s shoulder with a slight smile, “but she could end up hindering our plans more than helping. Just trust me on this. We need her, but we don’t want her involved too closely, at least not during Oscar season.”

Sango looked at him, clearly a little puzzled, but her questioning look was broken by the sight of lights pulling up to the clearing. “Shh!” she said, grabbing Miroku’s sleeve and tugging.

Miroku peered through the branches, trying to get a good look.

It was Inuyasha’s Lexus LS600H, what he called his “incognito car.” Leave it to him to be incognito in a car upwards of a hundred grand, but then again, it was Los Angeles, wasn’t it?

The car pulled to a stop (bless him, he parked under the light) and turned off its engine. Inuyasha got out, wearing a simple dark button-down and jeans and looking a little twitchy and disheveled. He was already smoking, Miroku noted. He wondered how many that was since this afternoon.

Inuyasha leaned against the side of the car, dragging on his cigarette and staring straight ahead with folded arms. He checked his Rolex once, twice, and then stood to pace back and forth. 

Miroku felt for the guy. Inuyasha hadn’t seen Kikyou in six months, and of course Miroku hadn’t helped the matter by lying to him about Kikyou’s intentions. 

A few moments later, there was another flash of headlights, and a black Porsche Cayenne rolled up next to the Lexus. The driver side door opened, and out stepped Kagome, wearing some comfortable-looking leggings and a tee shirt, her hair bound in a long, loose black braid that draped over one shoulder.

She walked up to Inuyasha with a genuine smile on her face. From where he was sitting, Miroku could watch them hug in greeting, then stand there close to each other while Inuyasha spoke to her animatedly. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were very glad to see each other, as usual. 

Miroku glanced toward the Porsche; it was Kagome’s, normally, so the windows weren’t tinted beyond belief like they usually would be. He could just barely make out Kikyou sitting in the passenger seat, tilting her chin toward her sister and her ex-fiance outside, clearly trying to hear what they were saying.

“Come on,” the paparazzo grumbled, holding the camera aloft, “move it along. We’re not here to see you , kid sister.”

Sango looked past Miroku at the pap, then back at Miroku, her face a little annoyed. Miroku gave her a look that said, Leave it. All paps are assholes .

As if on cue, there was a honk from the Porsche that made both Inuyasha and Kagome jump a little, stunned out of their conversation. They slowly turned around. Kikyou was sitting inside the car, hands thrown up in a gesture of frustration and impatience.

Inuyasha turned back to Kagome for a brief moment, and she smiled warmly and patted his shoulder, then sent him on his way toward the Porsche.

“Okay, okay, here we go,” Miroku said urgently, “Get ready.”

 


 

Inuyasha put his hand on the door handle, took a deep breath, and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Hello, Kikyou.”

She turned to him, her face just as beautiful as he remembered it. 

“Hello, Inuyasha.”

Chapter 8: That Was A Moment, Wasn't It?

Summary:

In which Kikyou immediately ruins Inuyasha's mood, Kagome looks far too cute standing by the car at night, and our gang prepares for a dramatic red carpet return with a few extra friends in tow.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Eight

That Was A Moment, Wasn't It?

 

Kagome glanced over her shoulder, watching Inuyasha get into the car with Kikyou. Well, now it was time to keep herself busy. She reached into her purse and pulled out her book.

“I guess I can just...stand over here?” she muttered to herself with a slight chuckle.

 


 

“How have you been?” Kikyou said, her smile distant and serene. Ever the goddess.

“Why, what have you read?” Inuyasha fought to keep the snapping edge out of his voice. Don’t get angry, don’t get angry.

There was a small moment of silence. Kikyou just looked at him, still smiling softly.

“Sorry,” Inuyasha muttered.

“You know, you ought to talk to someone. Get all that anger out of you,” she said, laying a hand on his. He pulled away.

“What did you want to see me about?” Inuyasha said, trying to not act like a nervous wreck. He remembered when this feeling had been all he’d ever wanted, that frenetic energy whenever she was around. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it now.

“Do I need a reason to want to see you again?” Kikyou said.

Inuyasha blinked, trying to ignore the way his heart had quickened. “Usually you have one,” he said, keeping his voice gruff, “How’s the boyfriend?”

“Naraku is fine,” Kikyou said, “He’s working as a personal trainer while he goes on auditions.”

“Sounds thrilling.”

“You look good,” Kikyou said.

“Thanks.”

“I see a lot of photographs of you at bars. You’ve started smoking again.” She looked at him like he was a poor lost soul, a child adrift in the wild world. A few months ago that look would have melted his heart. He wasn’t sure how he felt now.

“Sometimes that happens when your future wife decides to start fucking somebody else,” he said softly.

Kikyou sighed. “I knew this would be a mistake.” She flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder. “You’re being hostile.”

I fucking wonder why, Inuyasha thought but did not say.

“Okay, listen,” Kikyou said, turning to him, her smile gone, “I got in touch with you because I want to make sure we’re on the same page. It’s awards season. This movie is likely going to result in nominations for both of us. I’m just making sure if we’re asked about the breakup, we need to have the same narrative in place.”

Inuyasha leaned back in his seat, fixing her with a pointed stare. “I see.”

“So the story is, our breakup was a dark time, we’re working through it together, and we’re still close and talk all the time.”

Inuyasha snorted humorlessly and ran a hand through his hair. “You are unbelievable.”

“Inuyasha.” Her tone was approaching sharp.

“Keep your panties on. I’ll go along with the bullshit. Just don’t think I’m an idiot. I hope you enjoy your precious Oscar you get out of this.”

He yanked the driver’s side door open and slid out, slamming the door behind him, then all but stomped toward his own car, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

 


 

Kagome was leaning against the hood of the Lexus, reading, and she closed her book hesitantly as Inuyasha approached. “How’d it go?” she said, smiling.

Oh, man. He looked murderous. She’d seen him look like this only a few times before.

Like that night .

“That well, huh?” she said, trying to keep her tone of voice cheerful.

“That deceptive little--” He cut himself off and sighed, “Well, we’ve apparently got a game plan for awards season. She got what she wanted. Like always.”

Kagome didn’t know what to say. Her heart felt like it had dropped into her stomach. She had figured this would happen, and she’d dragged him right into it. Had it been for her own selfish reasons? Had it been because of her obligations to do what Kikyou said when she said it? Perhaps both? Regardless, she felt like shit.

She tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder, a gesture she’d done time and time again. 

He caught her hand gently.

“Don’t,” he said almost snappishly, then raised his eyes to meet hers.

They stood there for what was probably a matter of a few seconds, but to her it felt like ages. He hadn’t let go of her hand. Kagome stared at him, scarcely daring to move.

Another honk of the horn. They immediately jumped apart. Inuyasha turned to look at the Porsche, his scowl returning.

“I have to go,” they both said in unison, and then grinned at each other.

Inuyasha ruffled her hair as he walked past her to get into his car. “See you Friday, kiddo.”

Kagome went back to her own car, unable to resist touching the top of her own head for an instant.

 


 

“Did you get it?” Sango demanded. The photographer nodded, but kept clicking even as Inuyasha and Kagome stood there talking.

“Excuse me,” Sango said pointedly, “The moment’s over. Camera down.”

“Just doing my job, ma’am,” the pap said snappishly, and put his camera into his knapsack.

Miroku groaned, letting himself fall back onto his ass from his crouching position. Yeah, whatever, it’s not like these pants are expensive as all hell . “Can we go home now,” he muttered to Sango, who was still watching the pap like a hawk.

“Yes,” Sango said, “That should do it. I’ll be expecting the photos up by tomorrow morning.”

“You got it,” the pap said, and left them sitting there.

There was a brief moment of silence. Sango was watching the cars drive away from between the leaves.

“You saw that, right?” she said after a moment, turning to face Miroku.

“I did,” Miroku replied, leaning back on his hands.

“That was a moment, wasn’t it?” Sango was frowning and looking conflicted.

“Certainly looked that way.”

A beat of silence. “What should we do?”

Miroku sighed. “The same thing we’ve been doing. Our jobs.”

Sango stared at him. “You’re acting like this doesn’t change everything.”

“It doesn’t. We have a movie to promote. Keep your head in the game and maybe we’ll get through this with our heads intact.”

 


 

“Well, that had to be weird, huh?” Kagome said, trying to make conversation. Kikyou had been sitting in haughty silence for most of the drive home. 

Kikyou didn’t reply, just looked out the window at the passing city lights.

Just as Kagome gave up, her elder sister spoke.

“So how long have you and Inuyasha been in contact with each other?”

“You know the answer to that already,” Kagome said evenly, “I saw him a few days ago with the press people.”

“I mean, have you been talking before then.”

“No, Kikyou, we haven’t.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“I would never.”

Kikyou sat back in her seat sullenly. “When we get home, I’ll need a bubble bath and some chamomile tea.”

“Right away.”

 


 

Friday afternoon was a whirlwind of preparations. The altered dress arrived for Kikyou, along with a whole shipment of others that she’d decided on and then turned down at the last minute. The hair and makeup people arrived about 5 pm, and the house was loud and bustling as an entire entourage devoted their time to preparing the goddess to meet her public.

Naraku, for his part, demanded his own hairdresser and tailored suit, which Kikyou and her enormous salary were only too happy to oblige him.

Kagome was able to grab a few minutes in between bringing Kikyou her glasses of wine and running to the store for Naraku’s special hairspray with tea tree oil to get herself ready in a simple blue cocktail gown and throw her hair up in an elegant updo. Kikyou’s dress had a train tonight, which meant not only was Kagome on purse-holding duty, but she had to arrange the train for photos as well. That meant some comfortable designer flats; there would be a lot of bending and stooping involved.

The limo arrived at 8:30, and Kagome was relieved to see that apparently Sango had found the largest and most obscene-looking stretch vehicle possible. There was enough room to seat twenty-plus people and their party would number only eight. If people needed to be separated, there was at least room to do it.

They all piled in, Miroku looking sharp in his black Armani suit, Sango in Vivienne Westwood, and then the Higurashi entourage. There was always an odd mixing of perfumes and colognes and smoke and champagne in a limo, Kagome mused. 

On to Inuyasha’s to pick up the rest of the group.

 


 

“Here’s to the whirlwind starting up again,” Kouga said, holding his glass aloft.

Ayame, his supermodel flavor of the month, tossed her fabulous head of red hair and wrapped her arm around Kouga’s, clinking her glass to his. 

Inuyasha obliged, and the three downed their drinks.

“Ayame, go get your fur thing,” Kouga said, slapping her playfully on the backside. She giggled and her heels clacked across Inuyasha’s living room floor as she disappeared down the hallway.

“This is gonna be a hell of a night,” Inuyasha said, smiling humorlessly.

“Eh, you’ll be fine,” Kouga said, rolling his shirtsleeves down and fastening the cufflinks, “It’s not like you have to stand next to her the whole time.”

Inuyasha’s phone buzzed. It was Kagome. “Elvis is in the building.”

“They’re here,” he said, shoving the phone into his pants pocket and throwing on his suit jacket, “Let’s get going.”

Chapter 9: Hello, Party People!

Summary:

In which a limo ride gets both flirtatious and awkward as hell, Inuyasha is already sick of this shit, and Kagome needs a beer break.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Nine

Hello, Party People!

 

“Hello, party people!” Kouga opened the limo door and shoved his way in, he and Ayame scooting onto a plush bench seat right by the door.

Kagome had never actually met Kouga (or Ayame, who she had last seen on TV in a million-dollar diamond-encrusted bra and giant angel wings, standing next to Bruno Mars), but she smiled warmly in greeting.

Kikyou, seated with Naraku at the back of the limo, raised a hand in a small wave and leaned back and crossed her legs. Naraku seemed a little excited to see Kouga; no wonder, since Kouga was getting exactly the roles Naraku dreamed of getting. Kagome hoped she wouldn’t have to restrain him from trying to go sit by Kouga and talk to him about workout and diet tips.

Sango was making Kagome struggle not to laugh. As tough as she talked, Sango was at her core a good old-fashioned movie fangirl, and the sight of Kouga had sent her cheeks into a lovely flush. “It’s lovely to finally meet you,” Sango said, and Kagome could hear her struggling to keep her voice steady, “I’m Sango Ryoshi, the new Sunrise Studios publicist.”

Miroku threw an arm around Sango’s shoulders, clearly emboldened by the champagne he was drinking. “Hey Kouga. Hello Ayame, pleasure to meet you. I’m Miroku Houshi, the old Sunrise Studios publicist.”

Kouga raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Ayame, poor dear, looked genuinely confused.

“Where’s Inuyasha?” Miroku asked as Sango glared at him and gently shrugged out of his grip.

“He’s coming,” Kouga said, nodding his head out the open limo door.

Kagome turned to look over her shoulder out the window.

Damn, boy .

He was wearing a navy blue pinstriped tux lined with lighter blue velvet piping down the front of the suit jacket. He looked like a goddamn marble statue, a golden god. 

Couldn’t find yourself a nice, normal guy, could you, Kagome? Had to go and crush on the most unattainable man in the history of the modern world. Way to go.

Kagome swallowed as he stepped inside. Her throat was suddenly quite dry.

 


 

Inuyasha glanced around the spacious interior of the car, letting his eyes rest on Kikyou for a brief moment. She looked back at him, expressionless.

“Hello, all,” he muttered, averting his gaze and turning to Kagome, “Kagome, look at you! You look like a girl for once.”

Kagome smiled, her cheeks pink. “Thanks a lot,” she said as Inuyasha sat next to her.

“He’s right, Kagome,” Miroku said, sipping his champagne, “You’re beautiful. You’re glowing .” 

From the corner of his eye, Inuyasha saw Sango elbow Miroku hard in the ribs. Kagome, for her part, just laughed.

“Miroku,” she said, batting her long lashes playfully, “You do know how to turn a phrase.”

“Alright, alright,” Inuyasha said with an eyeroll and a smirk, “Pipe down, you two.”

“Wait, come here,” Kagome said, reaching onto the front of his jacket suddenly and picking off a piece of lint. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she focused on getting him all spic and span. “What did you do,” she said softly, “Roll in a pile of dirt?”

“You know me,” he said, “Filthy bastard I am.”

She picked off the last piece and said, “There, good to go,” then looked up at him, her smile easy and warm like it always was.

“You really do look fantastic,” Inuyasha said, surprised at himself and his low tone of voice as he leaned down towards her ear, “The dress is great.”

Kagome’s blue eyes widened and she opened her mouth to reply when Kikyou spoke up from the rear of the vehicle.

“It was mine last season.”

 


 

The second Kikyou spoke, one could almost hear a snapping sound as Inuyasha turned towards her. Immediately, Kagome felt like she’d been stuck into a colorless, soundproof box.

“Was it?” Inuyasha stared at Kikyou evenly, his eyes narrowed, “It doesn’t seem your type at all.”

“That’s why Kagome is wearing it, silly,” Kikyou said, rearranging her pearl-encrusted clutch on her lap, “I always found cocktail gowns a little childish-looking on me, don’t you agree?”

“Cut it out, Kikyou,” Inuyasha said, not looking at Kagome, “Leave the kid alone.”

The air left Kagome’s lungs so quickly she was surprised she didn’t cough. 

She looked across the aisle at Miroku and Sango, who were stopped short and staring at Kikyou with mouths slightly agape. She knew they were outraged on her behalf, but that didn’t make it much better.

“Hey, bro,” Naraku said, glaring at Inuyasha and grabbing Kikyou’s hand, “Don’t talk to my girl like that.”

Kagome winced.

Inuyasha let out a sound that sounded almost like a growl and opened his mouth to retort, but Kouga stood up and grabbed Kagome by the hand.

Kagome was too stunned to react and was pulled along down the bench seat until she was between Kouga and Ayame. Ayame smiled at her in a blank yet friendly manner, then went back to her glass of champagne.

“Kagome, was it?” Kouga asked. Kagome nodded, a little too surprised still to answer. She supposed she would never get used to it, seeing these sorts of people in movies and magazines for years and then coming face-to-face with them in real life.

“Lovely to meet you,” Kouga said, giving her a wink, “Champagne?”

Kagome couldn’t remember when she had been more grateful. She took the glass and glanced back at Inuyasha, who was staring at her and Kouga, still looking annoyed but sufficiently distracted from Kikyou.

Her sister, on the other hand, was giving her ‘the look,’ the withering glance of the goddess. Kagome cleared her throat and picked at the lace on her skirt with one hand.

This was going to be a long night.

 


 

The limo rolled to a stop. 

“Here we are,” said Miroku, clearing his throat, setting down his glass, and straightening his suit jacket. “Okay, folks, Sango and I will obviously get out first, since we’re peons and not talent.” There was a small chuckle amongst the group. 

“And then,” Miroku continued, looking around, “I suppose we’ll do Kouga and Ayame, then Naraku and Kikyou with Kagome, and then Inuyasha. Mind bringing up the rear?”

Inuyasha shook his head. “No problem.”

“Excuse me,” Kikyou said, not looking up from her compact where she was checking her lipstick, “I didn’t realize you were still calling the shots, Miroku. It was my impression you don’t represent the studio anymore, but Inuyasha alone. Of course you’d put your own client last. Sango, dear, I’m not anyone’s opening act. I’m sure you understand.” She raised her eyes to look pointedly at the girl seated next to Miroku.

Miroku gave a weak chuckle and wished murder were legal in extenuating circumstances. I could claim temporary insanity and I’d have at least six witnesses to back up my story--stop. Wait. Oscar. Oscar. Oscar. You are an oak. You are unmovable. You are in control.

Sango, for her part, blinked in surprise at Kikyou’s statement, then glanced up at him, her eyes searching him for annoyance or anger. He decided to reassure her, squeezing her hand once where no one could see. It almost made him laugh how a gesture that simple could make her flush, and she immediately snapped back into publicist mode.

“Inuyasha?” Sango asked, looking across the aisle.

Inuyasha was glaring at Kikyou. “It’s fine,” he ground out, “Let her go last.”

God, this was uncomfortable. Great idea, Sango, put the feuding ex-lovers and the new paramours all in one car together. I wish I were dead. Oscar. Oscar. Oscar.

Kikyou smirked at the rest of the vehicle’s inhabitants, releasing her left hand from where Naraku held it on his lap. “I didn’t mean that,” she said sweetly, “Inuyasha, I think we should go out together.”

Naraku spluttered. “Wh-what?”

Kikyou placed a hand on Naraku’s cheek. “Oh, honey, don’t. This is an important night; the press wants to see that we all are still friends and we all get along famously. You understand that, don’t you? It will be good for all of us.”

Naraku put his hand over hers and they immediately looked like they were about to start sucking face. Inuyasha, for his part, looked like he was about to jump Naraku and rip him in half.

“Kikyou,” Kagome said quickly, “Your lipstick. Don’t want to smear it.” Kikyou immediately pulled away from Naraku after patting his cheek once.

God bless you, you sweet angel of mercy , Miroku thought, thinking he might have to give Kagome a gift after this whole thing was over. “Alright, so new order. Me and Sango, then Kouga and Ayame, and then all four of you at once.”

The limo door opened to a flash of camera bulbs and thousands of people screaming. 

“Okay, babe,” Miroku said quietly to Sango, who was looking a bit like a deer in the headlights, “Your first red carpet. Let’s go be fancy.”

 


 

“Here they are, folks,” a reporter cried into her microphone, struggling for space in the pushing and shoving crowd, “Your It Couple, Inuyasha Takahashi and Kikyou Higurashi, together again for the first time in six months! And with Kikyou’s new love, Naraku, by her side! Looks like there’s been a hatchet buried recently! How are the two of you? You look happy to be reunited!”

“Oh, we are,” said Kikyou as they walked by, making sure to tilt her chin to give her best angle to the cameras, “It’s been amazing!”

Kagome followed along behind, holding Kikyou’s clutch and her own small purse, a full foot shorter than all three of them (with Kikyou in her heels anyway).

She stared at the back of Inuyasha’s head. He was doing his best not to look in Kikyou’s direction, and whenever Kikyou turned to look at him he would find someone new in the crowd to wave at and focus his attention onto.

Kikyou, her arm linked with Naraku’s, had the charm turned on full-force. It always left Kagome in awe, watching her sister relate with the public. Her fans had always adored her, and she had returned the favor by making herself into the princess, the idol, the one they all wanted to be. It was always hard to reconcile the public Kikyou with the private one for Kagome.

A reporter waved them down for an interview. There wouldn’t be too many of these tonight, since Inuyasha and Kikyou weren’t actually in this movie that was premiering, but Kagome had known that it would be hard for the press to resist getting what they could. It was their first time on the red carpet together since the breakup to end all breakups.

After the reporter, a young woman with a short black bob of hair, respectfully declined to have Naraku in frame for the interview (because of course she did, who would want Naraku crowding the It Couple), Kagome pulled her sister’s boyfriend off to the side, where they stood watching.

“Hello, I’m Yura Kaminoke, Entertainment News Tonight, coming to you live from Grauman’s Chinese Theater for the red carpet premiere of ‘Blades of Blood and Glory!’ And look who I have with me! Kikyasha fans, rejoice!”

Kikyou and Inuyasha demurred with quiet chuckles. Inuyasha shot Kagome a look only she noticed, and she fought the urge to laugh.

“So it certainly looks to me like you two have reconciled. Any confirmation on that front?”

“We’re just good friends,” Inuyasha said, flashing that winning smile like only he could. 

“That’s right,” Kikyou said, laying her hand on Inuyasha’s shoulder, “We’ve always been there for each other and we always will be, even outside of a relationship.”

Yura Kaminoke smiled eagerly. “Your new film together, ‘The Red Robe,’ was filmed during your, some would say, tumultuous breakup earlier this year. How does it feel now to reunite? Are you eager to work with each other together in the future?”

“I would say, never say never!” Kikyou said animatedly, her hand still on Inuyasha’s shoulder, “Like I said, we’re still very close, and I wholeheartedly respect Inuyasha as an artist and as an actor. We’ll see!”

Inuyasha gave a nod and a small shrug. Kagome wanted to rush forward and hug him.

“Celebtattle-dot-com just posted a series of photos of the two of you having a secret rendezvous just last night in MacArthur Park,” Yura pounced, “Do you have a comment on that? Were there discussions of getting back together as a couple?”

There was a beat of silence. “Excuse me?” Inuyasha said, his smile still pasted on his face. Kagome knew that look in his eyes, and she placed an awkward hand over her mouth.

“If such photos exist,” Kikyou intervened smoothly, “we would like the public to know that it was just a meeting between friends, nothing more.”

Kagome glanced at Naraku. He was glaring at Inuyasha, looking outraged. When he opened his mouth to speak, Kagome watched Miroku quickly dart forward to grab him and lead him off, muttering something about a fitness magazine wanting to talk to him.

“Inuyasha, there are also some photos of you at that same park with an as-yet-unidentified woman with braided hair and pajamas. A new flame, perhaps?”

Kagome felt faint.

Kikyou glanced toward her for a moment, then returned her attention to the reporter. Inuyasha, for his part, seemed to be careful to not look Kagome’s way.

“I’d rather not comment, thank you,” he said, keeping his voice civil and friendly.

“Just one last question and then I’ll let you go; I know how busy you two are. There’s a ton of buzz on the internet about this being a possibly huge awards season for both of you. Can you share with our viewers your thoughts on the upcoming film?”

“It’s really the project of a lifetime,” Kikyou said, “In fact, I said that to Inuyasha when we signed on for it, didn’t I? Being able to play that part was such a thrill for me as an actress.”

“And Inuyasha? Any thoughts?”

Still smiling, Inuyasha leaned into the microphone. “I agree.”

There was an awkward silence, and Yura turned back to the camera. “Well...there you have it! I’m Yura Kaminoke for Entertainment News Tonight. We’ll see you at the movies!”

As soon as the cameraman said, “We’re clear,” the group moved on, Inuyasha obviously working to keep himself from losing it.

Kagome followed along, torn between trying to hide and having to do her job.

 


 

Three more reporters asked about the photos. Miroku stood there for every one of the interviews, watching Inuyasha’s friendly expression stay the same but his answers to questions get shorter and terser every time.

He was going to have to talk to Sango about the pap publishing the photos of Kagome. He couldn’t imagine they showed her face, from the angle they had all been sitting at, but this was still an egregious overlook on their part. They should have insisted the guy delete all the photos of Kagome right then and there.

Sango was off on her own right now, of course; since she repped the studio and it was the studio’s movie, she was off wrangling a whole different set of stars right now and probably enjoying her panic high. That girl loved nothing more than to have shit down to the wire. She was the Hollywood equivalent of an adrenaline junkie, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t charming as hell.

Kagome sidled up to him casually, keeping her demeanor calm for all the watching eyes. Her voice was a different story. “Miroku,” she said, grinding the words out through her teeth, “Why are there photos of the MacArthur Park meeting?”

“Oh, you know, Kagome, the paps are vultures. They probably followed you guys from your house, they’ll do anything to get a shot.”

“Miroku, I’m not an idiot. I know you called them. Why?” 

“You really do look beautiful tonight, Kagome. Even when you’re angry.”

“So help me, I will grab you by the ear and drag you out of here if I have to.”

“Alright, alright,” he said with a sigh, “Come on, Kagome, you know the biz. No publicity is bad publicity. We need this film to do well. All of our careers depend on it.”

“Whatever happened to letting the film speak for itself? What happened to art for art’s sake?”

“That’s kind of the problem,” he whispered, putting a friendly arm around her to create the excuse to speak quieter, “The film is shit. At least it was when Sango previewed it. It’s in heavy re-editing. If we’re going to salvage any awards cred we have to divert attention from the actual film and toward the fact that Inuyasha and Kikyou are due for their Oscar wins this time around.”

“You want them to win the Oscars as consolation prizes for not winning in past years,” Kagome said softly, looking over at the subjects of conversation.

“Exactly. It’s been done before. You really think Pacino deserved the Oscar for ‘Scent of a Woman’ and not ‘The Godfather?’ Hell no. The performances in the film are the one solid. If we can get double wins this year it will get us all back on top, your sister included.”

“That would explain why you’re trying to push this reunion angle,” Kagome said, still staring at her sister across the aisle, “Keep them talking about Inuyasha and Kikyou.”

“Yep.”

“I see.” She gave a smile that almost looked sad.

“It’s just for the next few months, Kagome,” Miroku said quickly, “Just long enough to get the Academy’s attention. Everyone loves a good redemption story.”

“Understood,” she said, “Just, promise me, next time, you’ll keep me in the loop?”

“Of course.”

She patted his arm briefly and walked back over to Kikyou, who was through with the interview and calling for her bottle of water.

Miroku hated having to lie to her. Poor girl.

“What the hell are you doing here?” A voice sounded behind him. He turned to find none other than Randall Warner, head of Sunrise Studios and the person Miroku could have gone his entire life without seeing again.

“Now, now, Mr. Warner,” Miroku said, smiling calmly, reaching out to shake his hand, “Wouldn’t want to make a scene with a hundred-plus members of the international press standing all around us.”

“You are no longer affiliated with this studio or this production. Do I need to call security or will you leave on your own?”

“I’m sorry, Randy. You’re stuck with me. I represent your top-dollar star this season.”

Randall Warner was a thick, heavyset man with weird stubble that appeared to be his attempt to cultivate a beard. He was always red in the face, but redder now that he was spluttering and angry.

“Are you telling me,” Warner hissed, “that you’re representing Inuyasha Takahashi now?”

“Indeed I am,” Miroku said, “And aren’t you lucky for it. I smell Oscars this year.”

Warner looked ready to explode, but he just moved on. “This isn’t over, Houshi. Not by a long shot,” he said as he pushed past.

“You should be nicer to me. I’ll have my client’s best interests in mind all season, and that means you’ll be able to benefit too, Randy.”

Should have told him to say hi to his wife . Best not to, though. Getting punched in public was all well and good if it got your client more attention, but this wouldn’t benefit Inuyasha at all.

Miroku put a hand in his pocket and scanned the crowd. Where was Sango? Now that the confrontation with Warner was out of the way, he felt like kicking back and enjoying the company of a beautiful woman.

 


 

Finally, the doors were closed and the film premiere began. Inuyasha unbuttoned his pinstripe jacket and took his seat in the private opera-style viewing box. Kikyou and Naraku were sitting in the next box over, thank god. 

“Hey, buddy,” Miroku said in greeting, appearing over his shoulder and clapping him on the back once before taking the seat next to him.

“Miroku, what the hell was that?” Inuyasha fought to keep his voice down, his hands clenched into fists.

“What was what?”

“You know goddamn well what I’m talking about. Who called the paps last night?”

Miroku gave a gasp of mock outrage. “You can’t think it was me , do you?”

“I think you would sell my kidneys on the black market if you thought it would get you good reviews.”

“Inuyasha, we’ve been friends since we were twenty years old. I would never do something like that!”

“Spare me,” Inuyasha snapped.

“Okay, okay, I can’t cover for her any longer. You know who it was?”

“Sango?”

“No, Kikyou.”

Inuyasha blinked. “What?”

“I swore not to tell. She’s trying to get photos of you two circulating. She even lied to Naraku about where she was going last night. What does that tell you?”

“Then why was she so awful to everyone in the limo?”

“Oh come on, Inuyasha, you lived with her for eight years. Is it so hard to believe she’s putting up a front for everyone because she knows how people talk?”

Inuyasha’s heart thumped a little in spite of himself. “I guess not,” he allowed, running a hand through his long silver hair.

The curtain behind them opened and Kagome popped her head in. “Do you guys need anything?” she asked, “Kikyou’s sending me to the bar for a tonic water.”

“Yeah,” Miroku said, “Forget Kikyou. Get over here and sit with us.”

Inuyasha really did love that grin of hers; it made her whole face light up. She stepped inside the curtain. A spiral-shaped lock of hair had fallen out of her simple updo, and she looked a little out of breath. Kikyou always ran her ragged at these events.

“Just for a few minutes,” she said conspiratorially, and sank herself into the plush chair next to Inuyasha with a delighted sigh, closing her eyes.

She turned her head towards him, still leaning back. “Hey,” she said softly. Had she always had that small dimple on her right cheek? Of course she has, you just never noticed, idiot.

“Hey, you,” Inuyasha said back, “Tired?”

“Just a little,” she said, cracking her neck loudly, “She’s been a bit on edge all day, with everyone. It’s always like this on red carpet days. I guess you remember.”

“Have a drink,” Miroku said, handing her a cocktail, “They’re expensive, but I got them comped. Perks of being a bigshot.”

“What’s in it?” 

“Alcohol,” Miroku offered.

“Fuck yeah,” she said, tossing the whole martini glass back and then handing it to Miroku, “It’s not bad. Give me a beer any day though.”

“Beer coming up,” Miroku said, standing up, “I need to find Sango anyway. I just know she’s off in the lobby somewhere, still trying to straighten poster corners or something. Girl doesn’t know when to quit. I’ll get that tonic water for your sister, too. Inuyasha, anything?”

“I’m good,” Inuyasha said. He couldn’t take his eyes off that escaped lock of hair. It was hanging in front of Kagome’s face, and she kept absentmindedly batting it out of the way only to have it return to right where it was.

“I’m sorry about the photos,” Kagome said, turning again to face him when Miroku had left, “I didn’t know.”

“Not your fault,” Inuyasha said, holding up a hand, “Paparazzi are the scum of the earth. We all knew this beforehand.”

She pulled out her phone and pulled up the web page. “I checked earlier. You can’t see my face in any of them.”

“That’s good,” Inuyasha said, “Otherwise the press might drag you into this whole thing. Try to say there’s something between you and me. It would be hell.”

Kagome nodded, brushing the lock of hair away again. “Kikyou sure wouldn’t have liked it.”

“Is she…” he trailed off, then started again, “Is she actually happy with Naraku?”

Kagome sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know her at all anymore. Not since--well, you know.”

Inuyasha gently reached out and grabbed the lock of hair and tucked it behind her ear. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes downcast, “I miss the old days, when it was the three of us. Before all this fame and money, before it all went to shit.”

“Do you remember,” she said suddenly, “when we were doing ‘The Kitsune and the Hound,’ and we stayed up all night watching old Marx brothers movies and playing video games in that tiny little Hollywood apartment?”

“And you and I fought over how to properly do fatalities in Mortal Kombat, which resulted in a giant popcorn-throwing battle.” He grinned.

“And then you tried to throw a bottle of water on me, but I ducked and it hit Kikyou when she was sleeping on the couch?” Kagome erupted into peals of laughter, “She was so mad.”

“She locked me out of our bedroom!” Inuyasha said, “I had to bunk on the living room floor with just a sheet!”

Kagome laughed again. “I forgot about that.”

“We were all so young then. You were still a teenager, and your mom was still…”

“Yeah.” There was something unreadable in her eyes now.

“You wanted to be a photographer then.”

“I also remember wanting to run away and go on tour with Iron Maiden, but my mom put her foot down for some reason.” She smiled. “I guess life takes you in different directions. Who’d have known my sister and her boyfriend would become the biggest actors in Hollywood, almost simultaneously and overnight.”

They were both silent for a few moments. Kagome just looked at him with those huge blue eyes of hers, smile betraying the dimple on her cheek which he now could never ignore again.

“Here you go,” Miroku said, flying back through the curtain and jarring them both into sitting straight up, “A lovely Lux Mundi patersbier for you, Kagome. It’s Belgian, you’ll like it.”

Kagome took the tall glass from him and took a sip, coming up with a foam mustache. “Delicious!” she exclaimed, then thrust the draft at Inuyasha. “You should try this.”

Inuyasha chuckled and took a drink. “It is good,” he said, then reached with the back of his hand to wipe the foam off of her mouth gently. They both grinned.

“And I have a tonic water for her highness,” Miroku said, holding it up.

Kagome sighed. “Duty calls,” she said, standing and carrying both of her drinks to the door, “You guys enjoy the movie, I’m sure they’re starting any minute now.”

And with that she was gone. 

 


 

Once through the curtain, Kagome backed up until she was flush with the wall, willing her heart to slow down. Her stomach was in knots and it was hard to breathe.

Get a grip, girl, she said to herself as she straightened up, Kikyou needs her tonic water .

Chapter 10: It's All A Big Conspiracy

Summary:

In which Sango gets a drunken marriage proposal, Kagome gets asked out on a date, and Inuyasha gets...jealous about it?

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Ten

It's All A Big Conspiracy

 

Sango awoke the next morning in her sparse studio apartment, clad in nothing but a bathrobe, makeup still on. She’d been so exhausted getting home last night that it was all she could do to at least get her expensive fancy dress and shoes off before collapsing.

Reflexively, she grabbed her phone and checked her messages. Six messages straight from Miroku? She shot up into a sitting position. Was something wrong?

“Where are you? Movie’s over, I’m in the lobby.” She had indeed seen him there last night, looking around for her, but then Hiten Raimei had eaten some sort of appetizer that he hadn’t known contained shrimp, and Sango had had to spend the next hour sitting with him in his private box, force feeding him Benadryl and getting a discrete makeup artist to disguise the red hives that had broken out all over his face.

“Do you need help?” Once the Hiten situation was handled, she’d had to go run to make sure the press junket for ‘Blades of Blood and Glory’ was good to go at the hotel. All the chairs were set up, the lighting was in place. That had at least run smoothly. But there weren’t enough press kits for the amount of reporters they were expecting, so she’d had to run to her office to get another few dozen ready, then run them back to the hotel and leave them waiting in the press lobby. 

“Heading to afterparty at Sound. Traffic insane. Too many limos. See you there.” Sango had then been confronted with Hiten’s frantic girlfriend, who had apparently been left behind at the theatre by him and his entourage. She’d arranged for a cab to take the girl to Sound.

“You outdid yourself. This shit is awesome. At what agency did you find the sexy ninja models? I need to know, for reasons.” At that point, Sango had realized that she’d had nothing to eat since about noon that day, so she’d grabbed a cab and bribed him to take her through a drive-thru burger joint.

“Drinksd are greatt. Wher are you I misss youuuuuuu.” And of course, being Sango and having the worst luck in the history of human existence, she’d spilled ketchup all down the front of her gorgeous Vivienne Westwood gown. So she’d had to tell the cabbie to turn around and take her back to the apartment so she could change.

“Sangooooo will yoou marryt me? You’r the womna of my dreamsz. Where ar youuuu…” The sight of her own bed had evidently been too much for Sango, and she’d simply thrown in the towel and flopped down and fallen asleep within seconds.

Sango smiled at the messages and texted back, “Good morning, idiot. Sounds like you had a fun night. I had a whole series of crises to handle and then I went straight home. Hope you’re not too hungover.”

She yawned and stretched, then trudged into the bathroom to get the makeup off her face. She should probably get that dress to the dry cleaners as soon as possible, too.

 


 

“Can I get some scrambled eggs, please?” Kikyou yelled from her room.

“Right away,” muttered Kagome, her hair a wild mess, as she rolled out of bed and walked barefoot to the kitchen.

“Egg whites only for Naraku,” Kikyou added insistently.

“I got it!” Kagome yelled, more snappishly than she normally would. She needed coffee, stat.

As she got to work on the scrambled eggs (which were seemingly all her sister ever wanted for breakfast these days), she recalled last night’s events at the afterparty. The club had been done up like feudal-era Japan per Sango’s design, with murals lining the walls and a full buffet with no doubt the best sashimi Kagome had ever had.

Kikyou and Naraku had posted up in one of the VIP booths and spent most of the time just talking to each other and other A-listers who came up to say hello. 

Meanwhile, the lesser cast and crew, most of them contract workers for Sunrise Studios, had been getting down on the dance floor, and had dragged Inuyasha along with them. Kagome had sat and watched him interact with all of them, from the key grip to the extras, and had tried not to fall for him harder. It was a losing battle.

As the party had wound down and everyone was saying goodnight, he had insisted on getting Miroku home safely, as Miroku had apparently drunk the entire bar and kept asking where Sango was, to the point where he was starting to get belligerent.

Kagome had only gotten a small wave in before he was carrying Miroku’s drunk ass out the door. Kikyou had said she wanted to leave shortly after that.

And now here Kagome was, the next morning, making scrambled eggs to give her sister breakfast in bed. The glamorous life never ended, did it?

When the eggs were done, she put the plates on the silver serving tray and carefully walked to the master bedroom.

Kikyou and Naraku were in the middle of a fairly animated conversation. Kagome just kept her head down and went to set the tray on the nightstand.

“Don’t you trust me, sweetheart?” Kikyou was saying.

“I trust you. It’s that asshole Inuyasha I don’t trust. He wants you back, I can tell,” Naraku griped.

Kagome almost knocked over Kikyou’s glass of grapefruit juice, but caught it in time.

“What makes you say that?” Kikyou asked coquettishly.

“Babe,” Naraku said, sitting on the bed next to her, “Look at you. You’re a goddess. What man wouldn’t be obsessed with you?”

“You’re sweet,” Kikyou said, smiling as she pulled her long black curtain of hair over her shoulders, “but really, you shouldn’t worry. I’m doing all of this for us.”

Naraku looked a little confused. “How does any of that help us?”

“Sweetie,” Kikyou said in a sing-song voice, crossing her legs seductively, “When I win the Oscar, think what that will mean for us! Think of all the roles that will open up! It puts us back on top! And by ‘us,’ I mean all of us!”

Naraku’s bewildered look stretched into a smile. “You’re so smart, babe.”

They started kissing and writhing around, and Kagome took that as her cue to leave the room as quickly as goddamn possible.

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her shorts. It was a text from an unknown number.

“What’s happening, hot stuff? Meet me for lunch downtown?”

Kagome rolled her eyes. “Who the hell is this. Not funny.”

A reply twenty seconds later. “Not joking. This is Kouga Okami. We met last night in the limo, remember?”

Kagome figured she could probably be knocked over with a feather at this moment.

“How did you get my number?”

“Houshi gave it to me at Sound last night.” Of course he did. It was shocking he hadn’t given out her date of birth and social security number while he was at it. 

Still...this was at least intriguing. What on earth did Kouga Okami, Hollywood’s number-one bad boy, want with her? Well, she figured she knew what he wanted, but she wasn’t exactly his type , as in she wasn’t a model or a pop singer.

“So will you meet me? I promise to be a good boy. Won’t even hold your hand if you won’t let me.”

Kagome thought about it for a second, she really did.

“No, thanks. Have a good day.”

She assumed that would be the end of it, but her phone buzzed again a few seconds later.

“Damn, cold as ice! I have to come clean then. I need a date for the Hollywood Film Awards. They’re tomorrow night. You game?”

Okay, was she still asleep somehow? Or in some weird alternate reality? 

“What about Ayame?”

“She has to film a music video in Belfast. No dice. Plus, we're not exclusive, just close friends. So I’m asking you. Say yes.”   There followed a heart-eyed emoji. Kagome snorted.

Why not go, though? A wicked little voice in her mind was chattering away. Kikyou’s already said she won’t go to the HFA’s in a million years. It’s a tiny awards show; why shouldn’t you go? Maybe you’ll even get the dinner course this time.

“I don’t have a dress.”

“I’ll take you shopping.” Kouga was a smoothie, she had to admit. It was getting harder and harder to find excuses to say no.

Kagome sank into a barstool at the kitchen counter, running a hand through her wild black hair. Dared she do this? There was no reason not to. It wasn’t like she had to work that night.

“Actually, I think I do have just the right dress.”

What on earth was she doing? This was crazy! And yet, there was a little excitement in the pit of her stomach. It would be fun to just sit back and enjoy an elegant evening without feeling like the hired help. To feel like she was there because someone wanted her there, not because they needed her there.

“What color is dress?” the next text from Kouga read.

“Malachite blue. Draped-silk taffeta. Why?”

“Have to make sure I don’t clash for photos.” And a wink emoji.

Kagome put her phone back in her pocket and returned to her room. She’d been just about to make herself some breakfast, but her stomach was so tied in knots now she was worried anything she ate might work its way back up immediately.

She went to the closet and pulled out the huge box with the De La Renta dress in it, the one Kikyou had decided against at the last minute. It was sized to fit her sister, Kagome knew, but maybe, just maybe…

Shedding all but her panties, she carefully stepped into the gown and zipped up the bodice (thank the heavens for side zippers). 

It fit perfectly. 

Looking in the mirror, Kagome was amazed at how grown-up she looked. Okay, sure, she was 23 years old, but even to her closest circle of friends, it seemed she was always the youngest, always the “kid sister.” No one would mistake her for a kid in this .

This would have been way too short on Kikyou, she mused, noting how the hem fell perfectly at her ankles. Kikyou was a good four or five inches taller than she was. All well and good that she rejected this one, then .

That little stab of guilt started weedling its way in. Thoughts about what Kikyou would say when she found out, what would happen if Kikyou needed her while she was out on the town…

She shook her head, returning to look at her own reflection, and gave a slight smile.

 


 

Miroku’s peaceful slumber was interrupted abruptly by something fist-sized and hard colliding with his left cheekbone. “Gah! What the fuck-” he muttered, sitting up, then crumpling in pain at his own pounding head.

“Shit, sorry. Someone’s texting you,” Inuyasha’s voice called from across the room. Miroku screwed his eyes shut and picked up what he now knew to be his phone.

It was Sango, finally responding to those texts he’d sent her last night.

Wait. What had he sent her, again? He scrolled through his sent messages.

“Aw, jeez,” he muttered, “How drunk did I get?”

“You’re still in your suit from last night. What does that tell you?” Inuyasha approached him, wearing what looked like workout clothes and offering him a bottle of water.

“I texted Sango last night and asked her to marry me.”

“Did she say yes?” Inuyasha smirked and took a sip of his own water.

Miroku glared at him. 

“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” Inuyasha said, holding up his hands, “I had to get you out of there before you killed that bartender.”

“What bartender?”

“The one you accused of hiding Sango from you. You said, and I quote, ‘It’s all a big conspiracy to keep her away from me, man.’”

“What the fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Where would he have kept her hidden, anyway?”

Miroku groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Honestly though,” Inuyasha said, “You’re obviously a little hung up. Why not just ask the girl out?”

“Because I was her boss?”

“Not anymore you’re not. Just tell her you’re into her and you’d like to make sweet, sweet love to her.”

“Easy for you to say,” Miroku grumbled, “You can get any woman you want.”

Inuyasha shrugged. “I don’t want any woman.”

“Fucking boy scout.”

“Alright,” Inuyasha said, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly, “Let’s not fucking do this. We’ve got the Hollywood Film Awards tomorrow. Let’s just try not to kill each other before then.”

“You’re going to that?” Miroku looked a little bemused. “Kikyou isn’t.”

“Hey,” Inuyasha said with a shrug, “Free booze. I’m not turning that down. And neither are you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Miroku said with a groan, sinking back into the couch and covering his eyes with one hand, “I’m never drinking again.”

“I’ll remember you said that tomorrow. Want a Hangover Special?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Nazuna!”

 


 

“You’re going to the HFA’s?” Sango exclaimed through a mouthful of cheeseburger, her eyes wide, “With Kouga Okami? ” 

Kagome and Sango were sitting at good old In-N-Out Burger, on the patio, enjoying lunch and milkshakes, and after Sango had related the rather hilarious texts she’d gotten from Miroku last night, Kagome had opened up with some news of her own.

“Where the hell did this come from?” Sango said after swallowing a sip of her soda.

“No idea,” Kagome said with a shrug, “He just said he felt like we hit it off in the limo last night, and Ayame will be out of town, and he doesn’t want to go stag.”

“Of course he doesn’t. Kouga Okami without a woman on his arm? Civilization would fall,” Sango said flatly.

“So I said I would,” Kagome said, looking a little defiant, “And I mean, why not? I’ve never been to one of these without having to hold Kikyou’s purse. She’ll be at home all evening pretending not to watch it on TV. You know, because these awards aren’t important .” 

Sango giggled. “Well, you’ll see me there, of course, and Miroku and Inuyasha. We can all enjoy the open bar, at least.”

Kagome smiled. “Yeah, and for once I can say no to being asked to run to said bar and grab a mineral water.”

 


 

“Huh,” Miroku said, looking at his phone, “Well, how about that.”

“What?” Inuyasha asked, cueing up for his next shot on the pool table.

“Kouga’s going to the HFA’s...with Kagome .”

Inuyasha jerked forward. The cue ball shot forward, straight into the rear pocket. Scratch.

“What?” he said, conscious of keeping his voice nonchalant.

“Yeah,” Miroku said, brow furrowed in bemusement, “Apparently he texted her this morning and asked her. Ayame’s out of the picture, for some reason. Sango just texted me about it.”

Kagome was going with Kouga Okami to the Hollywood Film Awards? Going with a man who was probably the most notorious womanizer since Casanova? Inuyasha felt a little out of sorts. Maybe he was getting sick.

“She can’t go with him!” he spat, “She’s too young for him! It’s like--it’s like cradle robbing!”

“Inuyasha, she’s 23. She’s all of five years younger than you. That equals a grown-ass adult who can take care of herself. Let her have some fun for once.” Miroku lined up for his own shot.

“Why are you so calm about this?” Inuyasha snapped, gripping the edges of the billiard table to steady himself, “Kouga’s literally the worst person for her to go out with! It will make everyone think--”

Think she’s cheap. Think she’s easy. Think she’s just some desperate starlet. But she’s none of those things. She’s Kagome. 

“Like I said,” Miroku said evenly, making his shot and sending one of Inuyasha’s solid-color balls into the side pocket, “Grown-ass adult. Nothing we can do about it.”

Inuyasha knew he was right, but god damn, did it boil his blood.

“Your turn,” said Miroku, smiling that insufferable way.

“Fuck it,” Inuyasha said, clattering the pool cue to the floor and stomping towards his bedroom, “I gotta make a phone call.”

Chapter 11: You're Bad For Me

Summary:

In which close friends have a terrible fight, Kikyou recommends some allergy meds, and plotting makes Sango and Miroku rather horny.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Eleven

You're Bad For Me

 

“Hold on,” Kagome said as she and Sango were throwing away their food trays, “Why is Inuyasha calling me?”

“Ohhhhh shit,” Sango said, looking very sheepish and very, very guilty.

“Sango?”

“I may have told Miroku about your going to the HFA’s without considering that he’s probably with Inuyasha right now.” Sango winced and threw up her hands.

Kagome was a little confused by this reaction. What was wrong with Inuyasha knowing? Surely he’d be glad to see her there.

She answered the call. “Hello?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Kagome blinked. “Hi, Inuyasha. Good to hear from you, too.”

“Never mind all that. Answer my question.” He sounded furious . What the hell was going on?

“I’m...going to the Hollywood Film Awards tomorrow night?”

“With Kouga Okami.”

“...Yes?”

“Oh, nothing. I just thought you were smarter than that.”

“Excuse me?” she said, eyes narrowing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sango inch away toward a nearby bench and sit down, still with that expression like she’d been electric-shocked.

“You heard me. You know who Kouga Okami is. Different girl every month, every week even. And you just signed up to be tabloid news.”

“It’s not like that at all!” Kagome said frenetically, “Ayame’s just out of town last minute, and we sort of hit it off in the limo yesterday, and--”

“And his intentions are completely pure and wholesome, are they?”

Kagome was unable to speak for a moment, and when she could again, pure blind fury had edged into her voice. “One, he’s promised to be a gentleman. Two, even if he isn’t one, I’ll be surrounded by other people I know. Three, my plans and who I go out with are none of your business. Weren’t you just asking me about my dating life the other day, practically encouraging me to put myself out there? I don’t see the difference between that and what I’m doing now.”

“There’s a world of difference!” he screamed.

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t see it and I don’t understand why you’re being this way,” Kagome replied, her voice starting to tremble. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t you dare cry in front of him .

“Your picture will be all over the paper. People will put two and two together. And they’ll instantly start comparing you to your sister!”

“And that’s just the worst thing that could happen to me, isn’t it?” Kagome snapped, the tears spilling out of her eyes now, “I mean, you’ve been doing it to me for years, all of you, comparing me to Kikyou, but when the public does it it will be different, won’t it? Who gives a shit what they have to say. I want to go out, I want to dance and drink and have a good time and I want to pretend for just one fucking night that I’m not just Kikyou Higurashi’s kid sister.”

There was stunned silence on the other end of the line.

“I want you to leave me alone from now on,” Kagome said, her face streaming and her voice choking back a hoarse sob, “You’re bad for me.”

She hung up and sank into a crouch, face buried in her hands. She felt Sango rush over and place a comforting hand between her shoulder blades, and she turned and threw her arms around Sango.

They remained there on the concrete sidewalk for a good ten minutes.

 


 

Inuyasha stared at his phone, unable to speak, breathing heavily.

“Well, that went well,” Miroku said, and ducked as the phone whistled through the air toward his head.

 


 

“Kagome, what’s wrong with your face?” Kikyou said, looking up from her exercise bike with mild curiosity. Naraku didn’t even break from his lifting reps.

“Nothing,” Kagome said, half-heartedly reaching up to cover her bright red nose and cheeks, her eyes swollen from tears, “Just a sneezing fit.”

“Well, take a Benadryl,” Kikyou said, returning to her pedaling with a shrug.

Kagome nodded and went on to her bedroom.

Once inside, the tears began to flow again. Thank goodness Sango had been the one to drive to lunch; Kagome didn’t know how she would have made it home without her.

She’d just told Inuyasha that he was bad for her. Full stop. And it was true, wasn’t it? Unrequited love was always bad for a person. Especially when the object of said unrequited love was instead in love with your older sister . There was no competing with Kikyou, not when it came to men’s hearts. Kagome had always sort of understood this, and yet…

And yet .

There was no question, he was bad for her. She had been fine during the six months without him, able to stand on her own and breathe. She just needed to recreate that distance again.

That’s not quite true. You were miserable those six months without him .

But that was different, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

Kagome sat at her desk and buried her head in her arms.

 


 

“I feel just horrible,” Sango finished. She and Miroku were sitting side-by-side on his living room couch, comparing notes, relaying each side of Inuyasha and Kagome’s conversation as they had heard it firsthand.

“Yeah, this is rough. I get why Inuyasha would worry for her, but, as he usually does, he picked a shitty way of going about it.” Miroku lit a cigarette and put his lighter back in his pocket. 

Sango leaned back on the couch, propping her long legs onto the coffee table. “Houshi,” she said softly, looking at him with those beautiful brown eyes.

Miroku gulped and almost got ash on himself. “Yeah?”

She smiled softly. “Can I bum one of those off you?”

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t; I bum cigarettes as needed.” She recrossed those long, fabulous legs. Miroku’s mouth felt very dry.

He pulled another cigarette out of his pack, put it in his mouth, lit it, then handed it to her. She inhaled, closing her eyes, her long lashes dusting her cheeks.

This is hardly the time or the place, you moron. Get it together. Miroku couldn’t feel himself succeeding, however.

“See?” she said with a grin, “If you just bum as needed, you always get the nicotine buzz. Like it’s your first ever cigarette.”

“Economical,” Miroku said, dimly aware that he was staring and finally able to shake himself out of it.

Sango flipped her long ponytail over the other shoulder, brow furrowed. “So what should we do?” She met his eyes again.

I can think of a million things. 

“Wh-what?”

“About this Inuyasha-Kagome situation,” she said blankly, “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh.” Cold bucket of water, right over my head. Miroku, you idiot. Get your head in the game.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Guess I’m still a little hungover. Sorry.”

Sango smirked, and he just knew she was remembering that play-by-play of texts he’d sent her last night.

“As far as Inuyasha and Kagome go, we need to play a little chess. Keep them apart the whole night if we have to. We need them bursting to talk to each other by the end of it.” Miroku stubbed out the butt of his finished cigarette.

Sango’s eyes lit up with mischief. That was it. That was the look that practically drove him crazy. “You want to force a confrontation rather than avoid it,” she said, the corners of her mouth turned upward. She set her lit smoke in the ashtray and leaned in towards him.

“Bingo.”

“This will shove Kagome’s name into the spotlight; you do understand that?”

“Might add another juicy angle to the whole thing, though. Like we were saying, Kagome’s a big girl. She should know what she’s getting into. If she doesn’t, well, lesson learned. She’ll just need a few months to get over it.”

“Houshi, that’s mean.” The way her nose wrinkled a little, yet she remained smiling. Dear lord.

“I’ve told you before, babe. Yes, we’re her friends, but we’re amoral pieces of shit here to promote a movie first. We’ll be her shoulder to cry on when it’s all said and done. No harm, no foul.”

“What about Kikyou?”

“Oh, she’ll be at home with that meathead. Don’t worry about her.”

“You don’t think this will make Kikyou a little angry to see her sister and her ex fighting it out all over the papers?”

“Oh, I know it will. You know Kikyou. Doesn’t like anyone else touching her things.”

“That’s...diabolical,” Sango said, her eyes full of glee, “You fucking genius .”

God dammit .

Miroku couldn’t stand it any longer; he lunged forward, grabbed Sango’s face with both hands, and slammed a hell of a kiss on her. She whimpered in surprise as he pulled her across the couch toward him, running his hands through her ponytailed hair.

Get a grip get a grip get a fucking grip.

He tore himself away from her mouth as quickly as it began. “Christ, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that--”

She threw her arms around his neck, climbed onto his lap, and whispered against his lips, “You’re a fucking genius , Houshi.”

And they fell into each other, knocking over the tableside lamp as she straddled him on the couch, clothes flying every which way.

Sango’s lit cigarette in the ashtray proceeded to burn slowly down to the butt, unattended.

 


 

“You’re going where?” Kikyou said, her beautiful face screwed up in what looked like the beginnings of a temper tantrum.

“To a nightclub,” Kagome said, hands clasped in front of her, looking as singularly innocent as she possibly could, “With my friend from middle school. You remember Ayumi Hito?”

“Not at all,” Kikyou said dismissively, folding her legs under her on the couch and returning her attention to her TV show.

“So I’ll be gone all tomorrow night and maybe some of the next day. You can handle it, right?”

Kikyou rolled her eyes and let out a sound that was half-groan, half whine. “If I have to,” she said, “Guess I’ll have to stay home then.”

You were going to anyway; you said that to Naraku earlier.

“I mean,” Kagome said, wringing her hands awkwardly, “You and Naraku will have the house to yourselves all night. That’s kinda romantic, right?”

Kikyou shrugged. “He’s been kind of a bore, lately. Ever since he started getting jealous over Inuyasha, he’s trying to watch me like a hawk. It’s tiring.”

Kagome flinched at the mention of the name. “He’s just so in love with you that he’s afraid of losing you. Reassure him.”

Her older sister raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you become such an expert?” She scoffed and turned the volume up on her show, a not-too-subtle method of dismissal.

Kagome walked back to her room.

Since never.

Chapter 12: I Want To Thank My Leading Lady

Summary:

In which Kagome cleans up NIIIIICE, Inuyasha can't resist starting more shit, and Miroku and Sango are forced to schmooze with unsavory characters.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twelve

I Want To Thank My Leading Lady

 

Kagome knew that having Kouga Okami show up on their driveway to pick her up would look just a little bit suspicious to Kikyou, so she texted him and told him to pick her up from the salon near the Beverly Hilton, which happened to be the venue for the awards ceremony.

She and Sango spent what felt like an entire day getting completely overhauled - hair, makeup, nails, everything . It all felt so weird to Kagome. Sure, she had been to the creme de la creme of Hollywood events, but always with her staff pass, and always wearing whatever hair and makeup she could think up herself.

When the makeup artist finished with her and turned her around to look at herself in the mirror, Kagome was stunned. So this is contouring . She looked like herself, but... enhanced was the best way to put it. Her eyes, already quite large and blue to begin with, were painted with various shades of sharkskin and silver. The lipstick was muted, almost the color of her natural lips, to bring the focus back to her eyes.

“Holy shit,” Sango said from her own makeup chair, wincing a little as her hair was pulled into the curling iron, “ You clean up well! Kouga won’t know what hit him.”

Kagome grinned. She’d probably never get to do this again, so she might as well enjoy looking like a famous person for once. Screw Inuyasha. 

 


 

“Inuyasha?” Miroku said, entering the master bedroom that dwarfed his entire condo, “I’ve got our tuxes. Yours, of course, is the flashy, fashion-y one.”

Inuyasha, fresh from his shower with his hair still damp, grabbed the hanger without a word. Miroku sighed. This was going to be a long night if Inuyasha’s foul mood didn’t let up.

“Listen,” Miroku said as Inuyasha disappeared behind the bathroom door, “We should probably go over your acceptance speech tonight. You know, since we already know you’re winning and all.”

Still no answer.

“I was thinking,” Miroku continued, taking his own tux off the hanger and starting to change into it, “You need to mention Kikyou in your acceptance speech.”

“Hell no.” There. That got a response.

“Oh come on,” Miroku said, grinning at himself in the mirror, “For one, she’s your leading lady, and one should always thank one’s leading lady. For another thing, it might be nice to show the public that you’re mature enough to let bygones be bygones.”

There was a crashing sound. Something had just been knocked off the bathroom counter and onto the floor. Sounded like glass.

“Careful,” Miroku said, tying his bowtie with a practiced precision.

Inuyasha stormed out of the bathroom, wearing his dress shirt and carrying his suit jacket, which was black with splashes of ruby red on the lapels. Very high-fashion, but that was Inuyasha’s style.

“You’re going to tear your suit with all that energy,” Miroku said, “You probably want to look your best tonight, considering all the company we’ll be keeping.”

Inuyasha lunged, grabbing him by the vest. “Say one more fucking shitty remark,” he hissed in a low voice, “I will rip your fucking head off. So go ahead. Do it.”

Miroku glared back, gripping his friend’s wrists and shoving him off. “Don’t turn this shit around on me,” he snapped, “I get that you’re not in a good place right now, but we’ve got a fucking ceremony to go to and you need to get yourself together. The show must go on. At least get yourself an Oscar out of all this--”

“I. Understand,” Inuyasha ground out, “Now stop. Pushing.”

Miroku threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender, still frowning. He turned and left the room, pulling out his phone as he did so.

“How are things on your end?” he texted Sango.

A few moments later, the phone buzzed in reply. “Just fine. Little Cinderella is going to the ball. She looks amazing, btw.”

“Great. Operation Evil Stepmother now in effect.”

“...Did you just make that up?”

“Of course.” Miroku chuckled to himself as he hit “send,” then hesitated a moment and furiously typed a second message.

“So what kind of underwear are you wearing tonight?”

“I will choke the life out of you, so help me.”

Miroku grinned, pocketing his phone. “Please do,” he said to himself.

 


 

“Well, look at you.” Kouga’s face was bemused, a cigarette dangling from his lip. He was standing by the open limo door on the street corner, seemingly oblivious to the excited passersby staring and pointing at the very famous man standing in open public. 

It was a good thing Sango wasn’t here anymore, Kagome mused. She would have taken the photo op for all it was worth; luckily she had grabbed her own taxicab and headed to the event early, not batting an eye when she had to get the cabbie’s help arranging her insanely long dress train in such a way to avoid it getting dirty. “I’ll give you a very, very good tip,” she’d said to the man with a wink, and he’d just about turned to putty in her hands.

Kagome tried to avoid blushing as Kouga took her hand and made her do a single spin. The dress funneled out around her, its magnificent shimmery blue color sparkling in the neon lamplight. Her hair was pulled into a wonderful arrangement of large, perfect black curls. She felt like a total badass.

Kouga, dressed in a simple Armani tux with dark blue accents, brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You’re a lot taller than you were on Friday,” he said with a wink.

“Five-inch heels will do that,” Kagome grinned, kicking up a leg and showing him her silver peep-toe pump. The shoes were a half-size too big; Sango had insisted, saying it would make standing on a red carpet for over an hour a little more bearable. 

“Hmm,” Kouga said, removing his cigarette from his mouth and standing there, arms folded, giving her a once-over, “Something’s missing.”

Kagome looked at him, down at herself, then back at him with a questioning expression.

With a flourish, he produced a large velvet box and tossed it at her.

“Holy shit ,” she said upon opening it.

A diamond necklace with ornate stones, and matching dangling earrings. This was worth more than her dress, shoes, and lifeblood combined. Never in her life had she felt more nervous than she did holding this in her hands.

“You didn’t buy this, right? It’s only on loan,” she said quickly, running her fingers over the jewels nervously.

“If I bought it, it’s because you deserve it,” Kouga said huskily, reaching to pull the necklace out of the box and put it on her.

“You didn’t,” Kagome said weakly, feeling a little faint as he clasped the necklace behind her neck. 

“Alright, I didn’t, it’s on loan,” Kouga said with a chuckle, “You’re too smart for my money.”

Thank goodness it’s not his money, Kagome thought, hands trembling a little as she put the earrings on. 

“Okay, angel face,” Kouga said, stepping back into the limo and holding out his hand, “You look good to go. Shall we?”

For a brief moment, Kagome closed her eyes and remembered Inuyasha’s voice, screaming at her.

“...his intentions are pure and wholesome, are they?”

She shook her head slightly, took Kouga’s hand, and slid into the limo less than gracefully. Hey, who could blame her? This skirt was huge and weighed a ton!

 


 

“And here we are, ladies and gentlemen, coming to you live from the red carpet of the Hollywood Film Awards!” Yura Kaminoke was in rare form tonight, dressed to the nines and ready to talk fashion. Inuyasha wanted to walk past, of course, but Miroku gently nudged him in the ribs and gave him that infuriating ‘I’m-your-agent-now-go-dance-like-a-little-trained-dog’ look.

“Inuyasha, you’re looking sharp! What are you wearing?”

“McQueen,” he said, smiling into the cameras and giving a cheeky little wave, “Custom-made.”

“I’d expect nothing less from you,” Yura said with a wink, “So tell us, you’ve received the Hollywood Actor Award tonight for your performance in ‘The Red Robe,’ which hits theatres this Christmas. I know this is your third HFA, but how does it feel to have your performance rewarded this time around?”

Make that the first of about eight thousand times this same question will be asked for the next four months. “It always feels like such an honor,” Inuyasha’s tone was markedly sincere, “So many people go through their entire careers without getting recognized, and I’m very, very lucky to be able to work in this business, so I try to always keep that in mind.”

“Yes, ladies, he’s humble and relatable!” Yura turned to the cameras, throwing her arm around Inuyasha’s shoulders (he grunted and forced a grin on his face), “So my next question is, who’s your date this evening?”

“My agent,” Inuyasha said flatly.

“...Ah,” Yura said slightly dejectedly, her gaze following back to where Miroku was standing behind them, “Well, nothing like a guys’ night out, right? Rumor has it, though, you’ll be taking a certain costar and old flame of yours around the awards circuit next month; can you give us a comment on that?”

Inuyasha wanted to tell her just where, precisely, she could stick those rumors, but a look from Miroku from over Yura’s shoulder kept him in publicity mode. “I can’t confirm anything at this time,” he said, hoping that would be sufficient.

Who was he kidding, this was Yura Kaminoke. “Not even a little hint for our viewers whether or not we can count on a possible reconciliation of everyone’s favorite It Couple?”

“I mean,” Inuyasha said, struggling for a diplomatic answer, “never say never, right?”

Yura looked about ready to piss her pants with excitement. What was the deal with these people?

“Let’s move on to your role in the film. You play a Roman gladiator tasked with protecting a beautiful young courtesan across the war-torn lands of ancient Syria. What made this project so attractive to you in the first place?”

The fact that my then-fiancee wanted to do it . “Definitely it was the opportunity to work with Mr. Myoga again. We had done a play together when I was young, and it was great to be able to see him again and fall right back into that working relationship.”

This was at least half-true; Myoga had directed a very young Inuyasha in one of his first acting roles in Hollywood, but the play had closed very quickly and Inuyasha had had very few fond memories of it except for Kagome sitting in the audience every rehearsal, doing her homework while Kikyou was at a part-time job. They used to make faces and throw things at each other from the stage to the front row, and Myoga had eventually gotten furious and banned Kagome from waiting inside the theatre.

A half-smile found its way to his face, then was quashed almost immediately by a cold dose of reality. She hated him now, didn’t she? “You’re bad for me,” she said. What a thing to say. Is this what I get for trying to look out for her? For trying to be her friend?

“Inuyasha?”

Oh, shit. Yura had asked a question and was waiting expectantly for an answer.

“Sorry,” he said, turning on the charm again, ignoring the dull look Miroku was giving him in the background, “Can you repeat the question? It’s loud in here.”

 


 

Miroku accompanied Inuyasha through about two more interviews before deeming it probably okay to leave the idiot on his own, so he took to walking the red carpet casually, searching for a certain someone in a designer gown. What color was mauve, anyway?

He spotted a familiar neck and back (he’d become intimately familiar with how she looked that way, not that he’d ever admit it) and walked up almost animatedly. So mauve was apparently a grayish-purple. Damn woman should have just said grayish-purple.

There you are,” Miroku said, coming up behind Sango and touching the small of her bare back (incidentally, his vote was that every dress she wore from now on should be backless), “How’s tricks?”

Sango gently ducked out of his touch and turned to shake his hand for the TV cameras. “Good to see you again, Mr. Houshi,” she said loudly.

“What’s this Mr. Houshi shit--” He stopped at the urgent look on her face.

“Miroku Houshi,” said an all-too-familiar growl. Miroku turned.

“Randy!” he said, grabbing Warner’s hand exaggeratedly and shaking it, plastering a huge smile on his face, “How have you been?”

Warner, in turn, squeezed Miroku’s hand back so hard he swore he heard his own fingers pop. “Get out of my sight,” Warner said in his raspy voice, “You get one warning.”

“Now, now, Randy,” Miroku said, yanking his hand out of the studio executive’s meaty grip, “What was it we were talking about on Friday--”

“My wife is here,” Warner hissed, “And you will stay away from her, or I’ll--”

“Say no more, say no more,” Miroku said with a casual shrug, “We’ll steer clear of each other as much as possible. Wouldn’t want to sour our new working relationship, would we?”

Warner glared at him but said nothing further. Miroku glanced at Sango next to him. Her face was tranquil, but her eyes betrayed a look of concern. 

Miroku raised a casual hand. “See you around, Sango. Fantastic job with this red carpet, by the way, it looks great.”

And he walked off, smile dropping as soon as he was out of sight. 

Time to find Inuyasha and get him in the building as soon as possible. Miroku needed another drink. What else was new?

 


 

“You ready?” Kouga asked. The limo was pulling up in the queue, and they were fast approaching the red carpet, with its blazing spotlights and glittery people all grouped out front. The photographer’s pit was a flurry of flashes and activity, as usual.

“Yeah, I think so,” Kagome said, awkwardly arranging the cascade of curls around her face, “Do I--do I have lipstick on my teeth?” She bared her grin at Kouga, who blinked in surprise.

“You know,” he said, leaning on his elbow, “you’re nothing like the other girls around here.”

“Yeah, don’t I know it. Lipstick?”

“I don’t see any. You’re good.” Kouga flashed a smile and tucked a curl behind her ear, then took her hand. Kagome felt herself getting a little flustered and wasn’t sure what to do, so she just went to turn and open the limo door.

“Wait,” Kouga said, gently tugging on her arm and pulling her close.

Whoa whoa whoa whoa hold it.

“Um,” Kagome said, ready to yank her arm back, then Kouga opened the limo door on his side instead, the one facing away from the gathered crowds.

“In that dress,” Kouga said, “you should probably get out over here. Lots of fabric to maneuver. Don’t want to risk tripping, right, angel face?”

Kagome almost audibly sighed in delight. “Yeah,” she said, and let him help her out of the car.

Almost immediately upon walking up to get past the gates, Kagome felt her stomach tie up in knots. This was different than all the other times she’d done this; the eyes would be on her now. Wasn’t this what she had wanted?

Yes, it was.

And yet, some feeling in the back of her mind was almost dragging her back, making her limbs heavier and her neck hurt with tension.

Curse her stupid brain. Of course he would be the first face she saw in her mind’s eye right now. She felt like slapping herself in the face to rid herself of the annoying thoughts, but then again, there were a shitload of cameras flashing in her face right now; it might be a little hard to explain that away.

“Kouga! Over here!” It was that fashion reporter, Yura Kaminoke, the one who always asked Kikyou what she was wearing, what her daily skincare routine was, all that jazz. Kagome wondered that Yura’s viewers didn’t get tired of hearing Kikyou’s beauty regimen every red carpet event, but then, that was one of the weird things about celebrity.

“Come on,” Kouga said, shoving Kagome’s arm into the crook of his own and starting over to Yura.

“Oh, I don’t know about--”

“No ‘I don’t knows’, Kagome. Not tonight,” Kouga said, flashing her a charming grin, “Tonight, you’re just as famous as all the rest of us, okay?”

How was it so easy for him to treat her like an equal? He seemed so easygoing and almost proud to have her on his arm as his date for the evening. It was such a refreshing change that Kagome almost stammered like an idiot before closing her mouth and smiling.

“Okay.”


 

 

“Welcome back to the Hollywood Film Awards! And look who I have here with me now, it’s the silver screen’s ultimate action star, Kouga Okami! Kouga, who is this charming young woman here with you?”

“A close, personal friend of mine. And we’re both wearing Oscar de la Renta tonight. Doesn’t she look stunning?”

“She does indeed!”

From the next room, Naraku stepped out of the shower, hair wrapped in a towel, to hear the sound of something shattering against the TV in the den.

A voice rang out in a shrill cry.

“What is Kagome doing on TV?!”

 


 

“Alright, everyone, broadcast starts in twenty minutes, so please take your seats as soon as possible,” the loudspeaker sounded, and there was a bustling noise as the auditorium full of the rich and famous meandered to their assigned locations.

Inuyasha and Miroku were already seated at their table, both about two drinks deep at this point. “You’re a bad influence,” Inuyasha said, and immediately felt a stabbing pain in his chest at the way it sounded even now.

“Yeah, well,” Miroku said, “at least they’ve outlawed smoking in this ballroom, otherwise I’d be half a pack down at this point.”

“Hello, gents,” Sango said, appearing from behind Inuyasha and squeezing his shoulder once in greeting before moving to sit next to Miroku, her great long skirt held up with one hand.

“Sango,” Inuyasha said in acknowledgement. Miroku simply looked at her.

“Whew,” Sango said, flopping into her chair somewhat unceremoniously. She looked a little out of breath. Inuyasha recalled when Miroku had had that job; he’d always looked three sheets to the wind by the time the actual ceremonies got going for any awards show.

“Here,” Miroku said, handing Sango a dark red cocktail, “Strongest one I could hustle.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Sango said, taking it from his hands. Inuyasha noted that her fingers intertwined with Miroku’s for a brief moment but said nothing.

“Look who it is,” Miroku said, nodding towards the ballroom doors.

Sango turned and smiled. “Doesn’t she look great?”

Inuyasha knew immediately what they meant, downed the rest of his drink, and looked up.

Christ Almighty .

That blue dress... where on earth did she find it? He supposed it must have been one of Kikyou’s discards. That jewelry definitely hadn’t been hers, though; quite a lot of ice around that neck for one evening.

For some reason, it was really hard to reconcile that messy, tomboyish kid sister look with what Inuyasha saw before him now. Sure, he’d seen Kagome dolled up before, but always in her own, do-it-yourself way, charming but not overwhelming.

This was certainly overwhelming. Inuyasha gulped.

He realized Miroku and Sango were looking over at him like sharks who smelled chum, and he quickly cleared his throat and composed himself.

 


 

“Come on, gorgeous, our table’s over there,” Kouga said, gently leading her along. Kagome followed, feeling even more self-conscious than before with the creme-de-la-creme surrounding her. She could glance every which way and name at least five famous people just within twenty feet. This was definitely where it was getting weird for her.

“Holy shit, there’s Tom Hanks,” Kagome muttered so only Kouga could hear her.

“Yeah?” Kouga said, like he hadn’t even noticed, “Come on, we’re right here.” He pulled out her chair for her and helped her into it. “You want something to drink?”

“Sure,” Kagome said gratefully. Getting a little numb might help right now.

Kouga waved a waiter over and whispered to him, then sent him on his way. Kagome busied herself with trying to set her pearl-encrusted clutch in between all the centerpieces and water glasses on the table.

She looked up at Kouga, who was peering around the room bemusedly, and she followed his gaze and…

And.

Her eyes locked with a pair of amber ones she knew all too well, and her stomach flipflopped around and she felt a little weak.

He was sitting about three tables away next to Sango and Miroku (who, she somewhat registered, were trying to wave at her in greeting, but she didn’t respond). His face was impassive at first, but the longer she held his gaze, the more his brow furrowed, and finally he snapped his glance away, face twisted in anger.

Kagome felt about six inches tall all of a sudden.

“What’s up?” Kouga said as the waiter quickly placed two cocktails in front of them on the white tablecloth. Kagome seized hers and quickly took a sip.

“You’re going to spill all over your dress,” Kouga said, whipping out a cloth napkin and laughingly dabbing at her chin, “Of course, if you want to try something involving sticky champagne cocktails later, I wouldn’t turn you down.”

Kagome couldn’t help it and dissolved into nervous laughter, which Kouga returned.

“Did I tell you already that you’re a vision of loveliness?” Kouga said as their laughter died down.

“You did,” Kagome said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, “I wish you’d stop though. It’s embarrassing!”

“You really don’t get complimented much, do you?”

“Not really,” she said with a sheepish grin. 

He took her hand and held it aloft, then pulled her in closer to whisper in her ear. “There are tons of people staring at you. And it’s not because you stick out, trust me. It’s because you look like you belong here.”

Kouga kissed her hand then, and intertwined his fingers with her own before dropping their joined hands below the table. Kagome didn’t pull away, but she did cast a brief glance back over her shoulder in Inuyasha’s direction.

 


 

Sango was sitting there watching Kouga and Kagome interact, her chin in her hand, a drink in the other one, and Miroku’s hand surreptitiously on her thigh under the table. She nudged him with her foot and gave him a look that said both “cool it, idiot, everyone’s watching” and “I will deal with you later but good.”

He removed his hand gently, but his smile remained.

Inuyasha, however, was glaring daggers at the couple across the room. His knuckles were white where he gripped his glass of whiskey.

“Inuyasha,” Sango said gently, thinking she should probably be the one to speak and not Miroku, since Miroku’s track record with Inuyasha of late had been less than stellar, “Are you alright?”

Their famous friend didn’t answer for a moment, then seemed to relax some, releasing the death grip on his glass. “Yeah,” he said, “just a little sick to my stomach, is all.”

“Well, buck up,” Miroku said good-naturedly, speaking to Inuyasha but staring lovingly at Sango (he really needed to cut that out; it was going to blow their cover), “You’ve got an acceptance speech to give.”

 


 

“And accepting the Hollywood Actor Award for 2018 is…Inuyasha Takahashi!”

There was an uproarious round of applause. Kagome had known this whole night was building up to this, and where she once had been so excited and proud for him, now she just felt ill.

Across the room, Inuyasha stood, flashing that million-dollar smile, and buttoned the bottom two buttons on his designer jacket. As he made his way to the stage, he seemed to detour on purpose to take himself right past their table.

Kagome opened her mouth to wish him congratulations, just to be polite, just to try and mend the rift she’d caused even a little, to reassure him that really, she was all right after all…

He collided with Kouga’s elbow on his way past, not in an obvious way to anyone else, but enough for Kagome to gasp a little. Kouga grunted, then laughed mirthfully, obviously enjoying the situation.

“Glad to see you’re having fun,” Inuyasha said, his face a mask of distant politeness, and his gaze flashed in Kagome’s direction for a fraction of a second.

Any shame or apology welling in her chest immediately turned back to stone-cold anger, and she narrowed her eyes contemptuously as he continued on to the platform. He accepted the trophy from waiting hands and turned to the podium to speak.

“Thank you all so very much,” he began.

“Hey,” Kagome said, leaning over Kouga’s shoulder to whisper intently, “I want to leave. Now.”

Kouga blinked at her, then smirked. “Sure,” he said, “Where to?”

 


 

“So really, from the bottom of my heart, I want to thank everyone involved in this project. Myoga, all the crew, the supporting cast…” Might as well. Whore yourself out a little. Everyone’s doing it. “...and of course, my leading lady, Kikyou Higurashi.” 

There was an excited whoop from the audience. He wanted to groan in disgust. Any other time he would have looked offstage to Kagome waiting in the wings and sent her a look only she could read.

His eyes fell on the table she was at.

Or wasn’t at. Not anymore. She and Kouga had disappeared.

He gripped the edge of the podium, his hair falling over his eyes for a brief moment. 

What are you even worrying about? It’s like everyone said. She’s not yours to worry about. She never was, and never will be. You should be more concerned with her sister, you know, the woman you still love?

“That’s all I have to say. Thank you again for this honor.” He held the statuette aloft, smiling as cameras flashed, then walked offstage as quickly as his legs could possibly carry him.

Chapter 13: How Very Hollywood Of You

Summary:

In which Kagome continues her Cinderella moment and meets some new friends who indulge her wild side, Inuyasha is still in a shitty mood despite his brand new award, and Miroku gets an unwanted blast from the past.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirteen

How Very Hollywood Of You

 

“Oh, man,” Miroku said, applauding with everyone else as Inuyasha walked offstage, “This is turning out to be an interesting night. Kagome’s playing her part even better than I thought she would.”

Sango sipped her drink. “One thing you can always count on, fools in love or lust always behave in fairly predictable ways when you push them.”

Miroku smiled and put his hand on hers for a brief moment, squeezing her fingers, then releasing her. “I bet I could still surprise you once in a while.”

“No offense, Houshi,” Sango said, reaching over and cheekily tweaking his nose, “but I doubt it. Come on, let’s go collect the man of the hour and get to the afterparty before the rest of the crowd starts to rush the exit.”

They stood as soon as the show director called for a commercial break, and Miroku dutifully picked up the train of Sango’s dress and held it up. He moved to put his arm around her lower back, and she gently grabbed his wrist and leaned in toward him.

“Warner’s watching us like a hawk,” she said quietly, her breath ghosting across his ear. Resisting the urge to bend her backwards and ravish her right then and there, Miroku sighed and merely placed a hand on the middle of her bare back, a friendly gesture to any prying eyes.

“Did I tell you,” he murmured as they got out of everyone else’s eyeline, “that you look amazing in mauve?”

Sango craned her neck to look at him, and the smile she gave him was dazzling. Honestly, if she’d ever wanted to try being in front of the camera instead of behind the scenes, Miroku would be one hundred percent behind that decision.

Hell, I’d be her press agent. For free.

Still smiling, she reached up, grabbed him by the chin, and gave him a quick kiss before turning back around and leading him outside the hotel doors to arrange for transportation to the afterparty.

Okay, maybe not for free...

Miroku was pretty sure his face was stuck in a dopey-looking grin. Oh well.

 


 

“Champagne?” Kouga said, popping the bottle and holding it away so none of it spilled on their clothes, “We have to celebrate your first red carpet as a bona fide celebrity. How’s it feel?”

Kagome, her brain still a little muddled from the brief interaction with Inuyasha, hesitated to answer. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Kouga leaned in close to her on one elbow, flashing a charming smile, “Does that mean I might get a second date?”

Kagome felt her face flush a little, and she returned his smile with a weak one of her own. “You honestly want one? With me?”

“Yeah. What can I say, I find you fascinating and I’d like to get to know you a bit more.”

“Well...maybe?”

Kouga put a hand over his heart as if it were beating too fast. “She said maybe!” he yelled at the limo driver, who glanced in the rearview mirror looking not a little bewildered.

Suppressing a small giggle behind her hand, Kagome took the offered glass of champagne when handed to her and took a generous swallow.

“You ready to party all night?” Kouga asked, downing his entire glass in one fell swoop and refilling it.

Kagome honestly didn’t feel like doing much more than going home at this point and zoning out (her brain still seemed to be betraying her over and over by flashing images of Inuyasha’s furious face like a strobe), but, oh, what the hell. Kouga had been nothing but a gentleman, as promised, and since she was bound to hear about all this from Kikyou in the morning anyway, she should make the night last as long as possible, right?

“Sure,” she said with a shrug and a warm smile.

Kouga raised his glass to toast. “Here’s to being the belle of the ball, Miss Cinderella.”

 


 

“You guys go on ahead,” Inuyasha said, keeping his face impassive, his hands shoved into the pockets of his obscenely expensive jacket, “I think I’ll just go home. Not really in the mood for this.”

“Negative, friend,” Miroku said, beckoning him into the limo, “You won an award tonight so you have to play extra nice with all the bigshots and show gratitude. Otherwise, what will they think when voting opens for the Globes next month?”

Inuyasha scoffed. Once again, it was time to play the game and kiss ass all evening. 

“Why do I even bother with this career,” he grumbled, climbing in the car after his agent.

“Because you’re damn good at it. Also, you don’t want to hurt Kikyou’s chances too, do you?” Miroku scooted next to Sango (who had Inuyasha’s brand new award cradled in her lap), already lighting a cigarette now that they were out of the nonsmoking areas.

“What do you mean?” Inuyasha narrowed his eyes.

“I only mean,” said Miroku, gesturing with his cigarette, “that the press still thinks of you two as the ideal pairing. The It Couple. So any bad attention you generate might find its way to her chances at Oscar gold, especially since she’s already neglected to show for these awards in the first place.”

“Champagne!” Sango said too quickly, pulling the bottle out of the ice bucket and holding it aloft.

 


 

Another red carpet, another thousand flash bulbs going off in her face, but mercifully this pre-afterparty one was much shorter. No long interviews to teeter through in her heels. Kagome thanked the blessed mother.

Posing for the photos, Kouga moved this time to put his arm around her waist, still smiling. Kagome ignored the voice in her head screaming at her to tone it all down, put a hand on her hip, and gave the cameras a shy smile.

Once all that was over with, they walked into the private party area, where it seemed almost every top star in Hollywood was dancing, drinking, schmoozing, gossiping, smoking, ordering their assistants around. 

It was almost funny, she thought, how strong the urge was to pick up a tray and rush around with it, catering to demands. Key word being almost.

“Come on,” Kouga said, “You want to meet Colin Farrell?”

“Um.” She rooted to the spot instinctively.

“I promise he doesn’t bite!” Kouga laughed, tugging her hand and pulling her along.

After that wonderfully awkward meeting, in which Kagome surreptitiously pinched herself above the elbow to remind her mouth not to vomit out stupid fangirl idiocy and to just politely introduce herself, and in which Colin Farrell politely shook her hand and gave her a cheeky wink in greeting, she allowed herself to be led to a table in the far corner of the dark room, where Kouga ordered drinks for the two of them.

“What’s in this?” she asked, raising her voice slightly over the pounding club music.

“It’s a Greta Garbo. Cherry liqueur, lime, and most importantly, rum.”

“A Greta Garbo? How very Hollywood of you,” said Kagome with a grin, taking a sip. It was good, but a little sweet for her taste. I’d kill for a Trooper Ale right now .

A group of young Hollywood elites were calling Kouga’s name from across the dance floor (Kagome was sure she recognized a few sons of famous people among them), and he shot her a quick look of apology and a shrug before going to join them.

Kagome sat and sipped her drink, trying not to stare at the crowd of beautiful people in front of her and most certainly trying not to feel more self-conscious. There’d been quite enough of that for one evening, surely.

Kouga returned much quicker than she’d expected, and she couldn’t help the flash of gratitude that flowed through her. “Come meet all the guys,” he said, pulling her out of her seat, “They were asking about the hottie I had with me.”

 


 

 

“Inuyasha,” Sango said, scrambling to catch him as they exited the limo and headed up the red carpet, “Your award!”

He took it without a word, smiling and waving at the pit of photographers gathered to catch the group as they entered the afterparty. A few poses with the award held aloft and he was through, free to drop the shit-eating grin, sigh, and crack his neck.

There weren’t a ton of people here yet, mostly B-listers and technical people (though he did note Colin Farrell sitting in a cloud of smoke at one end of the room). Despite himself, he scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes, searching for someone quite particular.

“She’s over there, Inuyasha.” Miroku threw a thumb over his shoulder as he handed the coat check girl his suit jacket and Sango’s fur wrap, “Give me your jacket, unless you want to die stylishly of heatstroke in here.”

Inuyasha did as he was told, handing Miroku the jacket and the obscenely heavy award, then trailing his gaze to where his friend had pointed.

There she was, as naturally as can be, holding a cocktail and laughing with Kouga’s arm draped over her shoulders and surrounded by about six other young men, all laughing right along with her.

“What the hell ,” he muttered, “She’s sure working fast, isn’t she?”

“Did you say something, Inuyasha?” Sango’s tone of voice told him she had heard exactly what he’d said. Her eyebrows were raised disapprovingly.

“No.”

“Great!” she said, looping her arm through his, “We’ll leave Houshi to check the coats. Come on, let’s get a table.”

“Thanks a lot!” Inuyasha heard Miroku grumble as they walked off.

 


 

“You’re shitting me!” One of Kouga’s friends, a fellow by the name of Ginta, stared at Kagome wide-eyed. “You’re Kikyou Higurashi’s baby sister?

“Guilty as charged,” said Kagome, giggling sheepishly. This group were obviously a little rowdy, a little rough around the edges for the Hollywood jetset they belonged to, but that was a little endearing. She’d seen worse at heavy metal concerts before; these guys seemed more like her kind of people.

“You’re cuter than she is,” another guy piped up, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“They’re right,” Kouga said, squeezing her shoulders.

Kagome elbowed him gently, cheeks pink.

“Oh, I forgot,” Kouga said, “Kagome isn’t one for too many compliments, guys.”

“Uh oh,” Ginta said, swirling his highball glass, “Guess that means Kouga isn’t getting anywhere, huh? That’s his whole strategy with women.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Kouga said with a grin, “I got other tricks up my sleeve.”

“Be afraid, Kagome,” Ginta said, “Be very afraid.”

Kagome laughed. “I think I can handle him.”

Kouga turned to her. “You sure about that?” he said in her ear, his voice suddenly much lower. Kagome’s eyes widened a little in surprise.

“I need another drink,” she said quickly, ducking under Kouga’s outstretched arm and heading toward the open bar with her empty glass.

“I wouldn’t go alone,” Kouga caught her around the waist, hard enough to make her squeak in reaction, “Look who’s here.” He nodded straight ahead.

It was Sango and Inuyasha, with Miroku trailing behind. They cut a path through the crowd, all of whom broke into applause at the sight of their Best Actor recipient of the evening. Inuyasha smiled demurely and gave a wave, mouthing his thanks as the trio sat down at a central table. Immediately, they were swamped with well-wishers, obscuring Inuyasha from Kagome’s view.

“...You’re right,” Kagome said, her jaw clenched, “Come on.”

Kouga left his arm around her waist and escorted her to the bar.

 


 

Miroku was feeling emboldened enough by the massive amounts of champagne and whiskey he’d had at that point to immediately grab Sango’s hand under the table when they sat down. He linked his fingers with hers, pleased when she didn’t pull away.

She was listening attentively to every person coming up to congratulate Inuyasha, trying to pick up on any hints or clues as to how said person might vote as a member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences come January. 

“You can stop working for tonight,” Miroku whispered in her ear, his voice low and husky. She clearly jumped a little and gave a little shiver, which made him want to ravish her all over again, but he could wait for later. Probably.

Sango turned and opened her mouth to say something, but Miroku’s eyes suddenly snapped to the woman standing in front of their table.

It was her. Lana Novak, or he supposed it was actually Lana Warner. The woman with whom his affair had ended his career at Sunrise. She looked just as she had the last time he’d seen her, when she’d invited him over to her apartment only for him to discover that she’d lured him there to expose him to her husband. To make Warner jealous.

“Hello, Miroku,” she said, her long blonde hair cascading over one shoulder, her smile at once knowing and innocent. That had been her best trick, pretending her intentions had ever been pure.

Sango looked at Miroku’s face, then back to Lana, then back at him. Her eyes seemed to light up with realization, and she squeezed his hand in warning. He must look like hell, he mused.

“Lana.”

“I hope Randall didn’t give you too much of a hard time tonight,” she said, “He gets so jealous sometimes.”

“Tonight was no problem,” Miroku said smoothly, “It was him firing me that was a little harder to stomach.”

“I knew you’d land on your feet, though,” Lana said, eyes flitting to Sango, who narrowed her own gaze in return, “In more ways than one, it seems.”

“Houshi and I are merely colleagues,” Sango said firmly, releasing Miroku’s hand under the table.

“So I see,” Lana said, her smile lovely despite the eyes as hard as iron. She turned to Inuyasha, all social butterfly again. “Congratulations to you for your well-deserved win tonight,” she said, and Inuyasha took her outstretched hand and shook it, “Please let me know if there’s anything my husband can do to help you out this season. Or anything I can do, for that matter.”

Inuyasha blinked in surprise. She held his grip for a few moments longer before releasing him.

Miroku was about ready to turn the table over.

“We’ll be seeing you, I’m sure,” Sango said, voice syrupy sweet, but he saw murder in her beautiful brown eyes.

Lana only smiled, shrugged, and sauntered off into the crowd.

“Who the hell was that? ” Inuyasha said, face screwed up in confusion.

“Warner’s wife,” Miroku said, yanking his pack of smokes out of his shirt pocket and fumbling with the lighter. Damn thing wasn’t working. He clicked it over and over. Must be the AC running full blast in here . He tried again.

Sango closed her hand around his and gently took the lighter from his grasp, then clicked it into life and lit his smoke for him. Their eyes locked.

Under the table, her hand grabbed for his and held it again, this time more tightly.

 


 

“You’re kidding me,” Kouga said, leaning against the bar next to Kagome, who was feeling quite buzzed and pleasant at this point, “You’ve never taken a body shot before?”

“No,” Kagome said, shuffling from foot to foot. Her feet were starting to hurt; she should have never listened to Sango and gone with the tallest possible heel (“You need to get as close to his height as possible for good photos,” she had said).

“Guys,” Kouga said, gathering the group around again, “Kagome’s never taken a body shot!”

There were varied outbursts of “What?” and “Seriously?” and guys nudging each other with huge grins on their faces. 

“She can take one off of me any day!” Ginta said.

“What is a body shot?” Kagome asked.

“No, no,” Kouga said to Ginta, “I think we should let a lady provide her first time. A little less intimidating, if you catch my meaning.”

“How about Caitlynn?” Ginta said, waving over a blonde starlet with boobs that almost overflowed her strapless minidress, “Caitlynn’s an old pro at body shots.”

“What is a body shot?” Kagome asked again. She felt a little dizzy; maybe she should sit down as soon as possible--oh, their table had been taken. Bummer.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Kouga said, tugging her along to an adjacent room that was even darker lit than the main hall, “Time to get a full Hollywood party initiation.”

 


 

“And there go the wild crowd,” Miroku said, nudging Sango with his foot under the table, watching Kouga and his cohorts disappear through the archway into the other room, “Typical. They turn these afterparties into their own personal nightclub.”

Inuyasha was paying no attention, nursing his own cigarette and looking pensive and moody.

Sango caught the signal from Miroku, winked at him, and said loudly, “Was that Kagome with them? I’m glad she’s making friends so quickly!”

Bingo. Inuyasha’s head shot up. “What?” he snapped, “Kagome went with them?”

“You know Kouga,” Miroku said sagely, “It’s eleven-thirty. He’s probably breaking out the tequila shots at this point.”

“What’s wrong, Inuyasha?” Sango asked, eyes wide. She wanted so badly to burst out laughing at the stricken look on his face.

“Fuck all that!” he said, loud enough for neighboring tables to turn and look as he stood and stalked toward the back room.

Sango turned to her partner-in-crime and smiled. 

“Are we sure she’ll be okay in there? Really? I do consider her a close friend, you know,” Miroku said.

“Oh yeah, no worries,” Sango said, “This is all going swimmingly so far.”

Miroku shrugged, nodded, and took another sip of his drink.

“By the way,” Sango said, taking the opportunity now that they were alone, “Are you okay? You know, after--”

“You should know me better than that by now, babe. It takes a lot more than that to faze me.” He squeezed her hand.

Sango nodded, but couldn’t help but notice that his nonchalant grin didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. 

Words failed her at the moment (for once), so she simply reached up lightning-quick and pecked him gently on the cheek.

Chapter 14: Hold My Train, We're Leaving

Summary:

In which Kagome probably shouldn't do her first body shot but does one anyway, Inuyasha is ready to Mike Tyson some motherfuckers, and Sango doesn't dance.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fourteen

Hold My Train, We're Leaving

 

“What are we doing, Kouga?” Kagome asked hazily. She was really wobbly now. Damn shoes. She clung to her date’s arm for support.

“Taking the party to the next level, angel face,” Kouga said, sliding a hand around her waist, “Caitlynn here has volunteered to let you do a body shot off of her. Isn’t that nice of her?”

“I guess…” Kagome said. She still wasn’t sure what this involved.

“We’ll keep it PG, I promise,” Kouga said with a wink, “or PG-13 at least. Caitlynn, salt.”

Surrounded by the rest of the young men, Caitlynn gave Kouga a knowing wink and tapped the bottle of tequila salt with a long red fingernail. “Where do you want it?” she said in a flirtatious voice.

Kouga smiled. “Wrist first. Ease the poor girl into it.” He turned to Kagome, who stumbled a little, still feeling quite confused. “Alright, hotshot, you’re going to take this tequila shot.”

Kagome reached for it, but he moved it out of reach.

“Not so fast,” Kouga said, “You gotta take the shot properly. Do you know what goes with a tequila shot?”

“Salt and lime?” Kagome offered. God, she was so dizzy .

“Give the girl a prize! Now then,” Kouga said, gesturing to Caitlynn, who was slipping a lime wedge between her teeth, pulp facing out, “Caitlynn’s going to help you take a proper shot. You lick the salt off her wrist, then take the shot, then get a good bite of lime to cut the tequila’s edge a little. It’s super easy.”

“Uh,” Kagome said flatly, “I have to bite the lime while it’s in her mouth?

“Part of the fun,” Kouga said, handing her the shot glass, “You can do it, angel face. Can’t she, boys?”

The crowd of guys erupted in a raucous cheer. Kagome started toward Caitlynn, staring down at the shot in her hands, then an all-too-familiar voice growled behind her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Okami?!” 

 


 

Inuyasha was dimly aware of Kagome turning to face him, looking like a child caught stealing from a cookie jar, but his attention was focused squarely on the tall, dark-haired man next to her.

“What does it look like?” Kouga said flippantly, placing a hand on the small of Kagome’s back, “Showing her the ropes.”

“Kagome, put the shot down. You’ve had enough,” Inuyasha snapped, meeting her eyes for a brief second, then returning his glare to Kouga.

“What’s up your ass, Takahashi?” Ginta Tesaki, one of Kouga’s entourage of enablers, spoke up roughly, “Let the girl take her shot.”

“Do you know who she is?” Inuyasha snarled.

“Yeah, she’s your ex-fiancee’s sister,” Kouga said, “You trying to babysit or what?”

“Kagome, put the shot down.”

“She’s not a kid, Takahashi. She can do what she wants. You’re being a hell of a stick in the mud.” Kouga crossed his arms, still smirking.

“Kagome, put the fucking shot down now .”

“No!” Kagome said, glaring at him hard enough to make him take a small step backwards, “Kouga’s right. You’re not my babysitter. You’re not my guardian. I already have a big sister, I don’t need a big brother to deal with too.”

Big brother? This bratty, insufferable little--

“I was as good as your big brother, at one point,” Inuyasha spat, “but I don’t even know who the fuck you are right now. You’re acting like an idiot, frankly.”

Her glare intensified, and she darted forward and grabbed the blonde girl’s arm, quickly running her tongue over the girl’s wrist, then tipping the tequila down her throat and jumping forward to seize the lime from the girl’s mouth into her own.

There were whoops and cheers from the crowd of young men. Kagome pulled the lime wedge out of her mouth and tossed it to the floor, wiping juice off her lips with the back of one hand, glaring daggers straight at Inuyasha.

“I don’t want a fucking big brother ,” she hissed, slurring her words, “Not anymore.”

How was it she was so good at finding the right way to get him right where it fucking hurt? It was infuriating. Kikyou had never even gotten this hurtful, and she was a master at it.

With an inhuman growl, he lunged forward and grabbed her roughly by the wrist. “We’re leaving,” he snarled.

She tried to shove out of his grasp, then promptly turned away and threw up on the floor, coughing and spluttering. Inuyasha kept hold of her arm. God dammit, Kagome.

Kouga stepped forward to intervene, but Inuyasha used his free hand to shove him hard enough to knock him stumbling back into the crowd of partiers. Said partiers moved to square up as well, but Kouga stopped them by raising his hands.

“Let me go,” Kagome muttered, stumbling and almost falling to her knees, her head lolling heavily. Inuyasha held her up and lifted her back into a standing position.

She looked up at him, face still set in a defiant frown, eyes glazed over with alcohol.

Then her expression cracked into one of almost unbelievable sadness, so much so that Inuyasha was taken aback. She looked stricken . Her eyes welled with tears and she seemed to choke back a sob, never averting her gaze from his.

And then she seized the lapel of his vest and threw herself into his chest, crying audibly and uncontrollably. Instinctively, though he was absolutely flabbergasted, he closed a protective arm around her.

“Takahashi,” Kouga said.

Inuyasha looked up, his expression murderous.

“Take her upstairs and get her cleaned up. Use my suite.” Kouga pulled a key card from his pocket and whipped it at him. Inuyasha snatched it out of the air with his free hand, still glaring at Kouga, and scooped Kagome up in his arms.

There was a clicking sound, and Inuyasha turned to see several young partygoers and hangers-on holding their phones aloft, snapping photos. He fought back a frustrated snarl.

Inuyasha didn’t have the time nor the inclination to question Kouga’s actions at the moment.

“Where’s the fucking private elevator?” he demanded.

Kouga just pointed to his left and Inuyasha made a beeline in that direction.

"Hey, Takahashi. One more thing," Kouga shouted after them. Inuyasha paused, turning back, ready to fight the guy for real this time if he said one more shitty comment. Even with a sobbing Kagome pressing her wet face into the crook of his neck.

"That necklace she's wearing," Kouga said with a smirk, folding his arms over his chest, "It's on loan and it's worth the GDP of a small country, so if you could please get it off of her before she pukes again, I'd appreciate it. Just leave it for my assistant to find."

Inuyasha had to bite his tongue to avoid telling Kouga where to go and what to do with himself once he got there as he turned and rushed toward the elevator.

 


 

“You sure you don’t wanna dance, babe?” Miroku asked again, “It’s a party; we should allow ourselves to enjoy it.”

“No way,” Sango said, tipping back her whiskey and smiling, “I don’t dance, as a rule. Only at weddings, and even then, only if I’m forced.”

“Well, how am I supposed to keep you entertained?”

“I can think of a few things,” Sango said with a wink, sliding her foot against his leg under the table.

“I mean right here, right now,” Miroku said, though she pleasingly noted how hot under the collar he now looked, “Oh! I got it. We can talk.”

“Talk?” Sango blinked in surprise.

“Yes, talk. You know, that thing humans do. What’s your favorite color?”

“...You want to know my favorite color.”

“Yes, now tell me.” Miroku massaged the back of her hand with his thumb and sipped his whiskey with the other hand.

“Pink, I guess…?”

“Okay, now you ask me one.” Miroku smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re asking each other questions, getting to know each other. You know, like a real couple would.”

Sango felt her stomach flutter. “A real couple? Houshi, we agreed we’d keep everything under wraps.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to publish your answers in the tabloids, babe.”

Sango smiled, but she could feel the goosebumps forming up her arms. “We also agreed to keep it casual, Houshi.”

“Who says it’s not? I’d just like to know more about you than how exquisite your body is and how you can bend in pretty much every direction--”

“Okay, okay. Ask away. What do you want to know?” Sango grinned, elbowing him gently in the arm.

“Your Zodiac sign.”

“Aquarius.”

“Great.”

“You have no idea what that means, do you?”

Miroku smirked. “Not at all. I just know you’re supposed to ask that.”

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Sango said conspiratorially, “My Zodiac sign is Aquarius, which means…” she leaned in close to his ear, “...absolutely fucking nothing.”

They dissolved into quiet chuckles. He squeezed her hand again, and against her better judgment, she felt her heart thump.

“Alright, alright,” Miroku said, breaking his hold on her hand to light yet another smoke, “Where are you from originally?”

“Hollywood, actually.”

“Bullshit. All people from Hollywood are from the Midwest.”

“No, it’s true!” Sango said, laughing, “Born and raised here.”

“Were you one of those little girls who dreamed of becoming a great star?” Miroku asked, offering her a puff of the cigarette.

She obliged, inhaling and handing it back. “Nope,” she said, feeling proud of herself, “I wanted to become a bigshot instead.”

“You’re well on your way,” chuckled Miroku, “Alright. What’s your family like?”

Dammit. Deflect deflect deflect.

Sango shrugged. “Just like any other. Well, raised by a single mom, but other than that, nothing too interesting.”

He seemed satisfied with the answer, and she had to refrain from letting go of the breath she’d been holding in one big whoosh.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kouga sidle out of the side room, looking a bit sheepish, his arm around the waist of a curvy blonde. He caught Sango’s gaze and held a thumbs up, shrugging his shoulders.

“Bingo,” she whispered, grabbing Miroku’s hand and standing up, “Hold my train, we’re leaving.”

“Where are we going?” Miroku furrowed his brow and stubbed out his cigarette butt, “I really think we should check on Inuyasha and Kagome--”

Sango leaned in and blew a gentle cool breeze across his ear. “We’re going to my place,” she said, “and I’m going to fuck your brains out.”

“Ah,” he said with a gigantic smile, standing up readily and grabbing the train of her dress as requested, “Well, let’s get this show on the road.”

 


 

Kagome was stirred somewhat awake by a jostling motion. When had she even fallen asleep?

“What-” she started, then realized where she was, and in whose arms.

“Wake up, drunky,” Inuyasha said, sternly but not near as harshly as he’d sounded before. He reached out with a damp white washcloth and gingerly wiped at her tear-stained cheeks.

“I threw up,” Kagome said, leaning her head back against what she realized was the tile wall of a luxurious hotel bathroom. She was seated on the floor near the claw-footed bathtub, and Inuyasha was crouched in front of her.

“You did,” Inuyasha grumbled, clearly concentrating on getting her face cleaned up.

“Where are we?”

“Kouga’s suite, upstairs from the ballroom,” Inuyasha said. His face was still screwed up in annoyance, but his touches were almost mind-numbingly gentle. He reached around her neck, removing the gorgeous diamond necklace and tossing it into the bathroom sink as if it were a strand of plastic, worthless Mardi Gras beads, and then his disappointed gaze was back on her face.

It just took looking at him like this to send fresh tears to Kagome’s eyes, and her bottom lip began to tremble.

“Cut that shit out,” Inuyasha said testily, averting his gaze.

“I just wanted…” Kagome trailed off, a single tear spilling from her eye and snailing down her cheek.

Inuyasha caught the tear with the washcloth. It was cool and soothing on her burning cheek.

She tried again, struggling with the words. “I just wanted to be my own person for once. I got invited and I said yes.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. She noticed he had rolled up the sleeves of his costly dress shirt and removed his vest. There was a grey-black smudge on the front pocket. My mascara , she realized with a grimace. The shirt was likely ruined.

“I know why you did what you did,” he said, not meeting her eyes, “and I shouldn’t have gone after you like that. But frankly, you’ve been confusing the hell out of me lately. You must have changed a shitload these last few months we were apart, and I guess I’m just trying to reconcile that fact.”

“I’ve changed?” Kagome said, sniffling.

Inuyasha scoffed. “You’re blowing off Kikyou, you’re going out to parties with people you barely know. What’s going on with you lately? You used to be the responsible one. The one we all could count on.”

“Maybe I’m tired of holding everything up by myself,” Kagome said, bopping her head against the tile wall with a sob.

Inuyasha said nothing for a moment, then stood up from his crouching position and offered her a hand. “Come on,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, “let’s get you home.”

“I can’t go home,” Kagome said, shaking her head dizzily, “Kikyou will be so angry. I can’t deal with her tonight.” She hiccuped.

Inuyasha gingerly pulled her to her feet. “Then you’re coming home with me.”

Chapter 15: Scout's Honor

Summary:

In which Sango is five steps ahead as usual and Miroku can't keep his hands to himself because of it, an elevator operator named Tommy gets the biggest tip of his life, and Inuyasha gets an eyeful of black lace panties that sends him reeling.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifteen

Scout's Honor

 

“Hey, Kouga,” Sango said, her voice even and professional despite the lavish attentions of Miroku on her collarbone at the present moment, “It’s all good, then?”

The other end of the line was full of shouting voices, and Sango could barely make out Kouga’s voice saying, “Yeah, poor kid had too much and threw up so Inuyasha took her up to my suite.”

“And there were photos, yes? Of him carrying her?”

“Sweetheart, there were photos of the whole confrontation.” From what she could hear, he sounded quite amused at the commotion he'd caused.

Sango pulled the phone away from her face to plant a huge kiss on Miroku, who had been breathing into her ear for several seconds, then fought to keep her breath steady as she continued her conversation. “Perfect. Thanks for your help.”

“Honestly, Kagome’s a cute kid. I kinda feel bad. She was just in over her head.”

“Maybe with you ,” Sango raised an eyebrow, “Did you have to get her that drunk?”

“Hey!” Kouga sounded outraged but she could hear the grin in his voice, “She said she was used to just beer! No wonder a few shots sent her spinning!”

Sango sighed, though she wasn’t sure if it was from exasperation or from the absolutely filthy things Miroku was saying in her other ear.

“Alright,” she said finally, “A deal’s a deal. You get a sit-down with Spielberg for his new one next spring. After awards season.”

She hung up the phone, then looked up to see Miroku staring at her, eyes glazed over slightly, mouth agape.

“You really did plan this whole thing,” he said, that dopey, bemused look on his face.

“I told you,” Sango said with a wicked grin, “I don’t like surprises.”

Miroku went to kiss her again and she ducked out of the way, putting a finger to his lips. “Just one more thing,” she said, pulling up her phone contacts, “and then I’m yours, I promise.”

They both seemed to pause at the way that had sounded, just for a second, and then Sango was letting the line ring on speaker.

“You know the doorman at that afterparty, right?” she asked, playfully ruffling his bangs.

“...yeah?”

“Tell him he needs to collect all cell phones on the way out the door. Tell him to say it’s a studio security measure and that all photos of the incident that just occurred need to be deleted.”

Miroku smiled wryly. “But he’s not deleting them, is he? He’s sending them to us.”

Sango winked. “That is one thing I learned from you,” she said, fiddling with his tie, “Control all the footage, all the time, all that you can.”

 


 

“Alright,” Inuyasha said, having slipped his jacket over Kagome’s shoulders, “We’re going to have to leave in separate cars. Otherwise this whole thing will get more out of control than it already is.”

Kagome stood before him, her shoes in her hand, still wobbly but looking much more steady. Her eye makeup was a little smeared, but only noticeable on close inspection. Her hair was a wild tumble of curls but there wasn’t much he could do about that right now. “You need an assistant,” she said with a small smile. Her voice had finally stopped shaking, and other than a slightly redder nose than normal there was no evidence she’d been bawling her eyes out. “An assistant would take care of the cars for you.”

“Miroku’s close enough to an assistant,” Inuyasha hand-waved her off, “but I’m pretty sure he’s busy right now.”

“No, I mean it,” she said, slurring her words and hopping from one foot to the other. She was so short when her heels were off, eye-level with his chest. “You’re famous as fuck , dude.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Inuyasha said dryly, taking her by the arm, “Come on.”

“You are, ” she stressed, “and I’ll be your assistant and you can win an Oscar.”

“Think your sister might have something to say about that,” Inuyasha said, patiently leading her into the elevator. There was a young operator sitting in there reading Nietzsche, who looked up and stood with a start.

“Good evening, sir, madam,” he said, obviously a little starstruck. People seemed unable to act naturally around Inuyasha since...well, as long as he could remember, anyhow.

Kagome was obviously simultaneously trying to stand still and hold in a giggle. Inuyasha nodded a greeting to the bellhop and said, “Parking garage, please,” as he tightened his hold around Kagome’s waist.

She seemed to flinch for a moment and he wondered if he’d hurt her. But then she looked up at him with those huge blue eyes of hers, her face flushed, lips slightly parted, and he blinked in surprise and panic.

He reached behind him surreptitiously and steadied his own height with his free hand on the railing. Kagome seemingly noticed this, shook her head slightly as if to clear it, and turned her face toward the opposite wall.

“Parking garage,” the elevator attendant said softly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Kagome went out first, and Inuyasha paused to turn to the bellhop. Okay, flash that winning grin , he thought, feeling like a trained seal.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“T-Tommy, sir.” The guy looked like a deer in headlights.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy. So, I’ve got something for you,” Inuyasha reached into his wallet and pulled out several crisp hundred dollar bills, shuffling through them until he reached the right number, “A thousand bucks. For being the greatest elevator operator in the world. And the most discrete .”

Tommy obviously understood, his eyes bugging out like a grasshopper as Inuyasha pressed the cash into his hand. “Th-thank you, sir,” he stammered, “And can I say, I’m a huge fan?”

“You can,” Inuyasha said bluntly, though his smile was still pasted on, “Have a good night, Tommy.”

When he turned back around, Kagome already had her phone out and was calling a cab. Leave it to her to be the resourceful one, even drunk off her ass.

“What’s your address?” She put her hand over the receiver, cheeks pinkening as she said it.

Inuyasha gave it to her and set about calling his own limo driver.

 


 

Kagome arrived at the gate in her taxicab just before Inuyasha’s limo pulled up. She swiped her card for the cabbie, left him an amazing tip while also making sure to read his name on the registration just in case he tried to play press leaker later on, and slipped her heels back on to step onto the sidewalk.

She was pretty sure Inuyasha’s mansion was half the size of Kikyou’s, which she supposed made sense since... since he lives here all by himself . There were a ton of grounds though, but she couldn’t exactly see it too well from her vantage point in front of the huge iron fence.

“Oi, you in the dress.” A low voice sounded behind her, and she turned to see Inuyasha, leaning out of the backseat window of his limo. “You probably want to get in here; the driveway’s like half a mile long.”

Kagome wobbled over to the door and he scooted over to accommodate her. His scent filled her nostrils and she kept her eyes cast to the floorboards.

“Listen,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier at the ballroom.”

“Don’t,” he said, looking straight ahead, his expression stone-faced, “You’ve got a right to say how you feel.”

“I probably should clarify--”

“I’d wait til you’re sober for all that,” he said. His face hadn’t changed, but there was a bit of a stern edge to his voice.

He was so mad at her, wasn’t he? Hell, he has a right to be, I guess. He’s not the one who was acting a fool. 

Kagome fell silent and leaned her head back on the leather seat cushion.

 


 

“Okay,” Inuyasha sighed, shrugging out of his waistcoat and tossing it haphazardly on a leather chair, then turned to remove his suit jacket from around Kagome’s shoulders. His fingers brushed her collarbone and she shrank back just a little. “Sorry,” he said, “my hands are probably cold, huh?”

She didn’t answer, just kicked out of her ridiculously tall high heels. 

“Whose shitty advice did you take when you picked out those shoes?” Inuyasha shot her a small smile.

“Sango,” Kagome said, “She said it would be better for the press photos if I was closer to Kouga’s height.” She grimaced, squeezing one of her sore feet.

The idea of Kagome posing for press photos on the arm of Kouga Okami (and obviously being encouraged to do so by people who should have damn well known better) was still enough to make Inuyasha’s blood boil, but he heard Miroku’s voice in his head. “Hey pal, why not control that famous temper of yours for once?”

“Easy for her to say,” he griped, “Pretty sure Sango was born in high heels.”

Kagome smiled weakly. “Do you...um...have something I can change into?”

“Yeah,” Inuyasha replied, “I mean, it’s just like t-shirts and boxers, but--”

“Perfect,” she said, lifting her huge skirts up, “Where’s your bedroom?”

A heavy pause hung in the air. Okay, Inuyasha thought, why did I just ogle Kagome, of all people? I mean, she does look fucking gorgeous tonight, public display of intoxication aside, but…

“I mean,” she said quickly, “your closet!”

He wordlessly pointed and she seemed to flee his presence as quickly as possible. As she walked, her arms bent around to the zipper on the dress and she yanked it, seemingly sighing with relief at the release of tension. Inuyasha looked away just in time.

She entered the bedroom at the end of the hall and Inuyasha busied himself with undoing his cufflinks and tie. 

“Where are your boxers?” Her voice carried and he realized she’d left the bedroom door cracked open.

“Top drawer of the bureau, I think,” he replied. Unless Nazuna moved them . She was always finding new and creative ways to organize and save space, even though, one, he lived in a fucking mansion, and two, he didn’t own too much compared to others in his celebrity bracket. Maybe it came with growing up dirt-poor; you never wanted to overspend because all the money could be gone in a second.

There was another pause. “I don’t see them,” she said, “Whoops.” There was a thumping sound. Before Inuyasha could dart to her, he heard, “I’m okay. Who put that damn footstool there?”

He chuckled to himself under his breath, then jumped when she appeared in the doorway, hair even more disheveled than before.

“Can I just wear this? It was hanging in your closet.” She held up a red cotton nightshirt with short sleeves. A woman’s nightshirt.

Inuyasha froze. Kagome looked puzzled at his lack of response.

He tried to recover quickly. “Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in boxers and a t-shirt? I feel like that’s more your thing. Here, let me help you find them.”

He started down the hallway towards where she was, leaning out the bedroom door, holding her dress up with one hand. As he did, Kagome looked at him, then at the nightshirt, then back at him.

Her eyes told him she had realized whose nightshirt it was.

“O-oh,” she stammered, trying to pull the garment back behind the door as if it would erase its entire appearance, “Y-you’re right, boxers are more my style..”

She trailed off as he approached. Were those more tears forming in her eyes? Dammit, you idiot, quit making this poor girl cry .

As gently as he could, he pushed past her in the doorway, making a beeline straight to the giant mahogany bureau drawers. She remained in place, still holding up her unzipped gown.

He pulled out some boxers (from the bottom drawer; Nazuna had indeed been rearranging his underwear to her heart’s content) and then a white cotton tank top. “Will this be okay?” he asked, not meeting her eyes as he tossed them onto the bedspread.

“Of course it will,” she said, her tone almost pleading.

He looked up at her. She seemed to have forgotten her partially-dressed state (he could just see the curve of her back and hips in the reflection of the mirror by the door) and was staring at him like an orphaned puppy.

“Stop,” he said, forcing a smile, “How the hell could you have remembered? She only wore that thing like once, ages ago. Don’t worry about it. In fact, hell, wear it if you want to. It’s not like she’s going to anytime soon.”

The wounded animal look in her eyes vanished. Oh shit, he thought, now what did I say?

“I wear enough of her clothes as it is,” Kagome said evenly, her grip still firmly on the bodice of her evening gown, “Is there a room I can bunk in for the night?”

He pointed to the door immediately diagonal to his.

Kagome grabbed the boxers and tank top and stumbled into the hallway, with her voluminous skirts evidently giving her great trouble in her intoxicated state.

“Here,” Inuyasha said with a roll of his eyes, grabbing the majority of the lacy, sheer material and helping her through her bedroom door. 

“Thanks,” she said sheepishly, turning back around to face him. There was that tiny dimple again, the one he’d never thought to notice before.

He realized quickly that he was making this far more awkward than it needed to be and ducked back into his own room.

He was halfway out of his now-ruined dress shirt that he heard it.

“Um...Inuyasha?”

Inuyasha gulped. “Yeah?”

“Can you...come back in here?”

Whoa. Whoa whoa whoa. What the hell. Why was his throat suddenly dry?

He contemplated taking the shirt entirely off, decided that was probably a bit much, and went across the hall to the guest bedroom, pushing the door open gently.

Kagome stood there, hand clasped over the neckline of her bodice, a clean v-shaped hole in the side of her gown. The zipper was stopped halfway down, entangled in…

Are those black lace panties?

Kagome was fifty shades of red, her eyes screwed shut, still wobbly from drinking an entire bar’s worth of booze. Her hair was unpinned, hanging in large, loose curls over on shoulder.

“...I’m stuck,” she said finally, obviously unable to look him in the eye.

“I-I can see that,” he said, fighting to keep his own voice calm and collected.

“Just help me, please,” she said exasperatedly, stumbling and placing a hand on the guest bed to steady herself.

“Alright, alright.” He was about to say “Keep your panties on” but common sense won out. He approached and knelt at her side.

“Yeah,” he said, squinting, “I don’t know what the hell you did here but this is well and proper fucked up.”

He began pulling at the black lace, trying to free it from the zipper’s teeth, but to no avail. “Kiddo,” he said, “we’re gonna have to cut you out of this thing.”

“Oh, God,” she said, slamming a hand over her face, “Just get me some scissors or a knife and I’ll do it.”

“With your motor skills right now you’ll stab yourself in the hip,” Inuyasha snapped, “I won’t look, alright? Scout’s honor.”

He raced down the hallway into a room that was haphazardly arranged into a kind of office (maybe Kagome was right, an actual assistant would leave things less of a mess). He grabbed a pair of scissors and returned to find that Kagome in her drunken state was now leaning against a vanity, bracing herself upright with both hands, her face still beet red.

“Alright,” he said, kneeling again and tentatively placing a hand on her hip just beneath the cut of those panties. Who’da thunk she was this adventurous when it came to underwear? Wow, Inuyasha, you have reached a new low.

He slid the scissors beneath the black lace band, looking to her for a response, yay or nay. When none came, he clipped the band in two with one jerking motion.

The whole gown slid precariously downward an inch or two, and Kagome squeaked in surprise and grabbed at her chest before the whole damn thing fell off.

Though she hadn’t asked him to, hadn’t even looked at him, Inuyasha found himself reach forward and with both hands continue the zipper’s path downward to her upper middle thigh. This was hard to reconcile with the skinny teenage kid he’d known and adored, all elbows, knees, and braces. He couldn’t see anything, really, just the curve of her hip and leg, but good lord, where had she been hiding this figure? 

I said ‘Scout’s Honor.’ Guess it’s a good thing I was never a Boy Scout.

“Thank you!” Kagome said quickly, stepping away, still holding her dress up to her chest. Her eyes were anywhere but his right now. “See you in the morning, okay?”

It was with strange, feverish, and above all confused dreams that Inuyasha Takahashi found sleep that night.

Chapter 16: I Swear, She's Part Puppy

Summary:

In which some intrusive photos send Kagome into a panic, Inuyasha reminisces about the past, and Sango and Miroku try to contain their evil glee.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Sixteen

I Swear, She's Part Puppy

 

Kagome awoke with a pounding headache, wearing men’s boxer shorts and a white cotton tank, in a bed that wasn’t hers, with her De La Renta gown crumpled on the floor next to…

Holy shit, Inuyasha had to cut my panties off me last night.

She grabbed a goosefeather pillow and slammed it over her face to stifle her mortified scream.

When she had summed up the courage to tiptoe down the hallway and toward the kitchen, she realized immediately that she was not, in fact, the first one up.

Inuyasha was sitting, scrolling through his phone, an irritated look on his face, a cup of coffee sitting unattended in front of him. A girl in jeans and a simple t-shirt was standing at the stove, flipping eggs. She looked up at Kagome and smiled warmly in greeting. His housekeeper? Kagome wondered.

“Morning,” she said quietly, and he looked up at her, face still set in an irritated grimace.

She chose to pointedly ignore this look, whatever it meant, and went to get a cup of coffee for herself. The girl at the stove stopped her. 

“Oh no, Miss! Kagome, isn’t it? I’ll get it for you. You just have a seat. You must be exhausted, Mr. Takahashi always is after an awards night. Cream? Sugar?”

Kagome, who had never had her coffee prepared for her outside of a restaurant, began to decline politely when Inuyasha interrupted.

“You might as well let her do it, Kagome. Nazuna is nothing if not stubborn as all hell.”

“And that’s why you keep me around,” Nazuna said tartly, turning back to Kagome with a bright smile. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Just a little cream, please,” Kagome said hesitantly, returning the warm smile and taking a seat next to the obviously grumpy most famous man in the world.

They said nothing for the next minute, not until Nazuna swooped in with a lovely cup of steaming coffee for Kagome and two plates for both of them containing an all-too-familiar sandwich.

“Are these-” Kagome could barely conceal her delight, “Are these my old Hangover Specials?”

Nazuna grinned. “It’s practically all Mr. Takahashi ever wants for breakfast.”

Kagome flashed Inuyasha a genuine smile. “Just like old times, huh?”

He took a sip of his coffee and grunted in reply. Oh well, let him be a jerk. Kagome dug in, relishing the familiar taste.

“I never get to eat these anymore!” she said with delight through a mouthful of bagel, egg, and ham, “Kikyou doesn’t eat bread so I can’t have it in the house. Too much temptation, she says.”

Nazuna started washing up the frying pan in the sink. “Did I make it right, Miss Kagome? Mr. Takahashi couldn’t remember your recipe so I had to sort of improvise.”

“Only thing I do differently,” Kagome said, smiling conspiratorially, “is mix in a little Cajun spice along with the black pepper.”

She looked up to find Inuyasha staring at her, expression unreadable.

“So,” Kagome said, lowering her voice slightly so Nazuna couldn’t hear, “Have you had enough coffee yet to be cordial, or are you still angry with me?”

Inuyasha wordlessly turned his phone screen to face her.

“Celeb-tattle-dot-com,” she murmured, then cast her eyes to the photo centered on the webpage.

It was her and Kouga on the red carpet last night, dressed to the nines. She looked pretty good, if she did say so herself. “Yeah?” she said, looking at Inuyasha with a puzzled look.

“You’re famous now,” he said, a bitter edge to his voice as he read the photo’s caption, “‘Kouga Okami at last night’s Hollywood Film Awards with date identified as Kikyou Higurashi’s younger sister Kagome Higurashi.’”

Kagome swallowed. “Well, it’s a one-time thing. They’ll forget soon enough; you know the press.”

“Kagome,” Inuyasha said, barely controlled fury in his voice, though not necessarily entirely directed at her, “They’re a snakepit. And you’ve just been dropped in headfirst.”

He scrolled the page down. A blurry snapshot of the private room at the afterparty, with Kagome and Inuyasha locked in a dramatic embrace. Kagome remembered crying into his chest and reddened for a moment before the whole thing dawned on her.

“Do you want me to read this caption?” Inuyasha said sternly but honestly seeming to want to wait for her okay.

“Go ahead.” Kagome already had a pretty good idea of what it would say.

“‘Celeb-tattle-dot-com exclusive: Photo of Kagome Higurashi cuddling up to her own sister’s ex-flame Inuyasha Takahashi at last night’s Hollywood Film Awards afterparty. Sources report a dramatic scene as the younger Higurashi threw herself into Inuyasha’s arms.’”

Kagome wanted to shrink to the size and weight of a feather and float away. “Oh no,” she muttered into her hands.

“There’s a whole ‘exclusive’ profile on you. They know everything about you and what they don’t know they just made up.” Inuyasha slammed his phone on the table, eyes burning with fury.

“You were right,” Kagome said, tears springing to her eyes as she slumped forward on the table, “I should never have been so stupid. Leave it to me to have my first night by myself on the red carpet end up as a giant trash fire.”

She felt Inuyasha’s hand on her shoulder, one gentle squeeze, the way he’d always done when she’d been stressed out, when Kikyou had been particularly difficult, when she’d been told in no uncertain terms at 18 by her mother that college was out of the question.

“Listen,” he said, putting a finger under her chin and making her look at him. Her eyes met his and for a second she was back in the guest bedroom last night, fighting every instinct inside herself not to throw her arms around him. “You might have acted...a bit hasty last night-”

“Acted a damn fool, more like,” Kagome said, smiling weakly, “You can say it.”

“Well, yeah,” he said, shrugging, “but no one’s going to let you get thrown to the wolves. I’ll call Miroku and tell him to get his ass over here and we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Oh, God,” Kagome’s hands went to her temples, “Where’s my phone? What am I gonna tell Kikyou?”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened slightly and his mind seemed to go elsewhere. He looked...almost guilty . Was he feeling like he’d been unfaithful to Kikyou, even in spirit? Probably. Kagome wanted to slide under the table and hide.

“Let’s get Miroku over here talking damage control first, yeah? We’ll deal with your sister when the time comes. Hell, I’ll talk to her for you.”

She felt simultaneously a little better and a little worse.

 


 

Miroku lay in bed, arm draped over Sango’s sleeping form curled up at his side. Her hair was down for once, fanned out over the white sheets. One of her hands was curled up by her cheek, and she had a serene smile on her face as she dreamed. She looked so young like this, younger than she actually was. And peaceful. So very peaceful and calm.

Miroku’s phone went off.

Sango sat straight up, all but karate-chopping the air, her face wild with excitement. “Who is it?” she demanded, a manic grin stretching over her lips.

Miroku sighed and grabbed the phone from its charger. So much for peaceful and calm.

“Inuyasha,” he said as both an answer and a form of greeting to the other end of the line, “Odd to hear from you this early in the--”

Sango curled up into his shoulder, trying to hear every word Inuyasha was now yelling into the phone. Miroku nonchalantly draped an arm around her and continued.

“Kagome what? She did what last night?” he said in what he knew sounded like genuine outrage and panic. Sango smiled into his chest and he shot her a wink.

“Hold on, I’m coming over, right now,” he finished urgently and hung up.

Sango tweaked his nose gently, her smile never letting up. “You shoulda been an actor, Houshi. You’re that good when you need to be.”

“You should know, babe,” Miroku said, leaning in for a kiss, “We’re the real talent in this business.”

Right before their lips touched, Sango’s phone went off and she darted out of his path to grab for it.

“Oh, right on time,” she said, sliding out of bed and throwing a silk bathrobe over her shoulders before answering brightly, “Sango Ryoshi. Oh, good morning, Kikyou. How can I help you?”

 


 

“He should be here soon,” Inuyasha said, and Kagome just nodded mutely in reply, staring glumly at her now-empty plate, then gathered her dishes and his to take to the sink.

Nazuna sprang into action, taking the plates and cups out of Kagome’s hands, insisting all the while that Kagome let someone else help her for once.

And somehow, that tiny exchange, watching Kagome’s small but genuine smile at the kindness, strengthened his inner resolve. Kagome had always been the one helping, the one holding everyone up even as her arms and legs trembled from the effort. 

He closed his eyes briefly and then... 

And then it was suddenly five years ago, in the first apartment he and Kikyou had been able to afford after cashing in some of their first paychecks.

He saw himself, Kagome, and Kikyou walking through the front door, with Kagome in a bright sunshine yellow graduation gown, her cap and diploma in hand, teeth still in braces. Inuyasha, wearing a suit jacket a size too large (borrowed from a friend, he remembered) took a photo of the sisters hugging, and then gave Kagome a bear hug of his own, lifting her off the ground as she laughed in delight.

“You did it, kid,” he said, ruffling her hair, “I’m proud of you. Aren’t you proud of her, Kikyou?”

Kikyou smiled serenely. “I wish Mom had been here to see it.”

Kagome smiled back, eyes shining with emotion. “Me too.”

“Alright, get that yellow Snuggie off yourself and get changed. We’re going out to eat to celebrate. On me!” Inuyasha had just been cast in a pretty sizeable supporting role in a big ensemble movie, so he had been eager to give the girls a night on the town. Kagome grinned and pulled the gown over her head, then started toward her tiny bedroom to change out of the fancy dress he knew her mother would have wanted her to graduate in.

At that moment, Kikyou’s phone rang and she sprang to answer it. Her voice became excited and animated, and she hung up with a genuine expression of thanks before turning back to them. “I have a callback tomorrow! For the James Cameron movie!”

Kagome squealed with delight and hugged her sister. Kikyou, however, was already starting to look panicked.

“Oh god, what do I do?” Kikyou exclaimed, “I need to get my lines down better, I need to get my hair done, I need a face mask-”

“Kikyou,” said Inuyasha pointedly, motioning toward the front door, “We’ll all take care of it. It’s not every day your sister graduates from high school.”

Kikyou was obviously not listening, and Kagome stood at her side, placing a hand on her much taller sister’s shoulder. “This might be it,” Kikyou was saying, “This might be all we ever wanted, Kagome! You, me, and Mom!”

Inuyasha moved to interject again, but Kagome just squeezed Kikyou’s shoulder and smiled warmly. “You’re right,” she said, “Let’s get you in a tub to relax for a bit, and then I’ll run lines with you as long as you need.”

Kikyou nodded, the terror vanishing from her face and excitement replacing it once again. “A James Cameron movie!” She rushed past Kagome and flung herself into Inuyasha’s arms, “Can you believe this?”

Inuyasha kissed her and twirled her in a circle, prompting a delighted laugh. Kagome smiled as well and went to draw a bath for Kikyou. “Do you want lavender or vanilla, Miss Famous Actress?” she said teasingly as she went.

“Lavender!” Kikyou called, then resumed those kisses that had driven Inuyasha wild back in the day.

When Kagome returned and announced that Kikyou’s bath was ready, prompting her sisters wild, bounding exit from the room, she was in her old familiar jeans and ratty band t-shirt, her hair already let down from the simple chignon she’d had it up in under her graduation cap. She flopped on the couch next to Inuyasha, grabbed the remote, and turned it to VH1 Classic’s never-ending parade of old rock and metal videos.

“Sorry about all that,” Inuyasha mumbled at her, his eyes fixed on the TV, “I didn’t make a reservation or anything, but I can still go pick up something-”

“Oh, stop,” Kagome said brightly, her eyes lighting up at a Judas Priest video coming onscreen, “I’ll heat up the leftovers in the fridge. Tonight’s about getting Kikyou ready for her big moment.” She turned up the volume and started headbanging with a huge grin on her face, shouting along with the lyrics, “HEEERE COMES THE METAL MELTDOWN, RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! CAAAN’T STOP THE METAL MELTDOWN, NO ONE SURVIVES!”

From the bathroom there was a shriek. “Do you mind keeping it to a dull roar, please?”

Both Kagome and Inuyasha dissolved into laughter and Kagome lowered the TV volume again.

“Seriously though,” Inuyasha said, “It’s your high school graduation. We should do something special.”

Kagome, still giggling, gave a small shrug. “I’m not bothered. We’ll just go out another night to celebrate.”

Inuyasha blinked out of the all-too-clear memory and stared at his hands, shoved into the pockets of his expensive silk bathrobe.

They never had gone out another night to celebrate.

 


 

“Okay, I’m here,” Miroku rushed in the front door, creating all illusion of urgency like he wasn’t a piece of shit that had a game plan ready and waiting.

Inuyasha was standing at the bar, seemingly chain-smoking, facing away from Kagome, who was wearing silk boxers and a white cotton tank and...not much else.

“...Oh my,” Miroku said dramatically, looking her up and down, “Did you two…?”

Kagome’s eyes widened to the size of teacup saucers, and her face flushed bright red. “ No! ” she shouted emphatically, scrambling for a pillow to cover her braless state, as if she’d only just realized it herself.

“Miroku,” Inuyasha’s growl of warning sounded, though he didn’t turn around from the drink he was pouring.

“I just don’t have anything to change into!” Kagome continued protesting, seemingly not hearing Inuyasha, “The only thing I have is that huge gown from last night and-” 

She stopped, flushed even redder (if that was possible), and fell silent.

“Sorry, Kagome, that’s my fault,” Inuyasha said, and Miroku noted how gentle his tone became, “I didn’t even think...Nazuna, will you grab her my dad’s old college sweatshirt to wear?”

Nazuna poked her head around the corner. “Sir, you told me to have that framed and put on the wall in the billiard room.”

“So take it off the wall,” Inuyasha ground out, cigarette pinched between his teeth, “and out of the frame.”

Looking quite bewildered, Nazuna nodded and headed down the eastern hallway.

“Wait,” Kagome said quickly, springing up from the couch and rushing after her, “I’ll help you.”

When they were out of earshot, Miroku sidled up next to Inuyasha and took the liberty of pouring himself a drink. 

“So…” was all he said, and he had to restrain himself from smiling smugly as Inuyasha downed the rest of his glass, then turned to face him.

“Listen to me and listen good,” Inuyasha spat, obviously fighting to keep from raising his voice, “The kid had too much last night. Who hasn’t? But you’re going to help me fix this. We owe her that. She’s not part of this tabloid bullshit, and she should never be.”

“‘The kid,’ huh?” Miroku said, unable to help himself, “Last I checked you should probably stop calling her that, given how grown-up she’s been looking and acting lately.”

He knew the punch was coming and deftly swung his head out of the way. Inuyasha’s fist collided with the column behind Miroku’s head. “Always,” Inuyasha panted out, his face red and his breathing heavy, “ Always with your shitty comments.”

Miroku stared at him bemusedly. He’s furious, almost the maddest I’ve ever seen him. Did I touch a nerve?

“But you put up with me because you know I’m the best,” he said aloud, taking another sip of his drink and setting it on the bar counter, “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours, Inuyasha. Whatever the situation is, Sango and I can fix it.”

“Did you see celeb-tattle-dot-com this morning?” Inuyasha examined his bruised knuckles, his breathing seeming to calm slightly.

“Well, I’m glad I did. Managed to get those photos taken down in the car ride over.” That’s it, cast the bait.

Inuyasha blinked. “You did?”

“Yep,” Miroku took a smoke from Inuyasha’s pack without bothering to ask and lit it, “Check for yourself if you don’t believe me. Killed all the news stories, too, with threat of defamation. They’re not going to risk a lawsuit over illegally-taken photos of someone who’s only famous by proxy.”

“...oh.” Inuyasha seemed to release a long-held breath. “That’s good. That’s really good.”

“It’s why you pay me the big bucks,” Miroku said, “or rather, it’s why I pay me the big bucks, out of your account.”

“Okay,” Inuyasha said with a handwave, “What about Kikyou? Does she know anything about this? I wouldn’t want her thinking...well…”

“Thinking what, Inuyasha?” Miroku took a drag of his cigarette, making sure to look puzzled. He wished Sango could see him right now. Watch the master at work, babe.

“Thinking that, oh you know, there’s something going on. Between me and Kagome.”

Before Miroku could respond, Kagome re-entered the room, now sporting a very crisply starched (but clean nonetheless) sweatshirt that said “NYU” on it in big block letters. 

“Thanks, Inuyasha,” she said with a warm smile, “You’re a lifesaver. Okay, what were you saying? How bad am I in for it?”

Inuyasha grinned back. “Looks like we’re clear. Miroku already took care of it. Everything taken down as of a few minutes ago.”

Kagome gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She looked at Miroku. “Really?” she stammered, eyes brimming with tears.

I am the worst human being on the planet. Why am I stuck dealing with the one who looks like a happy puppy when I tell her her worries are over? Sango has it easy right now, and I’m going to remind her of that later.

“Yep,” Miroku said smoothly, “Got it taken care of in three phone calls. Aren’t we lucky all the news and gossip websites own one another nowadays?”

He almost choked on his cigarette as Kagome threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly and muttering what sounded like “Thankyouthankyouthankyou” into his shirt pocket. He patted her gently on the back until she released him.

“It’s really more than I deserve,” she said, eyes shining, “Thank you so much for doing this.”

I swear, she’s part puppy. This is ridiculous. No wonder Inuyasha can’t keep his head on straight.

“Don’t mention it,” he said suavely. Really, please don’t. My chest hurts in this hole where I presume a human heart could be .

Inuyasha grinned and reached over to ruffle Kagome’s hair. “Pretty lucky, huh? Aren’t you glad I know people?”

She smiled back at Inuyasha, placing her hand atop his on her head for a moment before pulling away.

“Not so fast, folks,” Miroku said, “We still probably have Kikyou to deal with.”

“Oh god,” Kagome’s smile was erased instantly and her shoulders slumped, “She’s going to be so angry with me.”

“Are you sure of that, though?” Miroku said, “I know she’s the Queen Bee and all, but she’s still got a heart deep down.” I’ll take ‘Sentences I Never Thought I’d Say About Kikyou Higurashi’ for a thousand, Alex.

Kagome looked up at him, unsure but hopeful. “I guess I should call her, then?” she asked.

“No need,” Miroku said, taking another sip of his drink, “Sango’s bringing her over now.”

With a wry smile, he braced himself for the exclamation in unison.

What?

Chapter 17: What'sa Matter, Kikyou?

Summary:

In which Kikyou does exactly what Sango wants her to do and does it perfectly, Inuyasha is both confused and suspicious, and Kagome is now completely in over her head.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Seventeen

What'sa Matter, Kikyou?

 

Sango tried not to stare or be starstruck at any given moment in her daily life. It was a jobkiller in her line of work.

But it was still hardest when she was in a limo, one-on-one with Kikyou Higurashi, especially when Kikyou Higurashi was dressed to the nines in a stark white pantsuit with dark sunglasses, a gold watch, and five-inch designer stilettos. It was also hard not to feel awkward right now during this silent car ride, because Kikyou Higurashi was mad as hell , tapping her foot on the carpeted floor in silent fury.

She’d screamed at Sango for a solid twenty minutes about her bad press and her reputation on the line and her idiot, man-stealing sister before Sango had managed to talk her down and convince her that she, Sango, was entirely on her side and working on her behalf. Woman, Sango had thought, I am trying to win you an Oscar, so you should probably stop yelling at me so much before I stop caring whether it happens or not .

Sango had told her that she knew Inuyasha well enough to know that his feelings for Kikyou were still there, still strong, and that his actions toward Kagome wouldn’t have been anything more than residual brotherly instinct, surely. Kikyou was hard to convince of this, at first. I guess she’s more perceptive than we all give her credit for. She knows enough to feel threatened by this.

The limo rolled to a stop at Inuyasha’s gate. Sango watched Kikyou glance out the window at the mansion up the hill, then seemingly scoff a little. What’sa matter, Kikyou? Don’t like the color? Or are you just mad he moved on without you?

As the driver buzzed the intercom and announced them, Sango tentatively spoke. “Please remember, Miss Higurashi,” she said, “that above all else, she’s your sister. I don’t think she would ever mean to hurt or disrespect you. Nor, too, would Inuyasha. The important thing now is to forgive and move forward with our awards season.”

“Kindly don’t speak to me unless I’ve asked you a question,” Kikyou snapped, pulling out her compact from her purse and checking her red lipstick for perfection.

Listen here you daffy stuck-up little- The scrappy street-kid side Sango had promised never to show to anyone ever again was trying to claw its way out, but she merely smiled warmly and opened the limo door when the vehicle stopped at the front drive.

Kikyou got out after her, long Hermes scarf whipping Sango in the face as she passed, all but stomping up to the front door, hands clenched in fists.

“Oh god,” Sango muttered to herself. She had to just cross her fingers and pray that Kikyou would do the smart thing here.

The door opened and Nazuna tentatively let them in. Sango took in the scene in the spacious living room. 

There were Inuyasha and Miroku at the bar smoking. Inuyasha looked like he had hastily changed into something casual but presentable - a nice pair of tailored jeans and a button-down that wasn’t quite tucked in properly in the back. Sango bit her lip to stop the smirk from rising to her face.

Kagome, on the other hand, was seated on the dark leather couch, wearing what looked like boxer shorts and an NYU sweatshirt so large her hands were lost in it. She was hugging her knees and looking anxious, even more so when her eyes shot up to meet Sango’s.

Sango winked at her to reassure her, but it didn’t seem to register. 

There was a heavy pause. Everyone in the room froze and everyone was staring at Kikyou. Nazuna gently shut the front door with a click.

Kikyou removed her sunglasses and scarf and handed them to Nazuna behind her. 

Kagome slowly stood up, her face a mask of fear and her eyes welling with tears.

And then Kikyou revealed once again why she was the greatest actress of their generation. She didn’t overdo it, didn’t make it dramatic. She just smiled softly, pityingly, and held out her arms without a word, offering the magnanimous, forgiving embrace of the goddess.

Kagome gave a tiny sob and rushed forward into her sister’s arms, burying her face into her shoulder. She looked so grateful

Sango felt a little ill. She cast one tiny look at Miroku, who raised his glass ever so slightly behind Inuyasha’s back as if he were saying “Well done, miracle worker.”

Inuyasha, for his part, just looked stunned and a little touched.

“Are you okay, honey?” Kikyou said softly, folding her arms around her younger sister, “Don’t cry. We all make mistakes. I know you didn’t mean any of it.”

Kagome sobbed a little louder and clung to Kikyou’s arms.

Eventually, Kagome let go, and Kikyou walked over to Inuyasha, who, Sango noticed, immediately cleared his throat and stubbed out his cigarette. Kikyou hated smoking.

Miroku immediately found an excuse to cross the room and join Sango, leaving the two ex-flames standing alone. Good boy , Sango’s eyes told him, and he winked without changing his expression.

 


 

Inuyasha tried his best to look casual as his former fiancee approached, but damn, was it hard. She had that look in her eyes that had him reminiscing about the good old days, when it had all been so simple, when it had all been a struggle but they had weathered it together.

His eyes flashed to Kagome, who was still standing in the center of the room, and their gazes met all-too-briefly before Kikyou was face-to-face with him.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” Kikyou said softly, placing a hand on his cheek, “You really are a wonderful guy, being the big brother she never had.”

Over her shoulder, he saw Kagome flinch a little and he remembered her words from last night. “I don’t want a fucking big brother , not anymore.”

He frowned. “I’m not her big brother. I’m her friend.”

“Of course,” Kikyou said smoothly, “and you were there to watch out for her when I wasn’t. I’ll forever be grateful.”

In any other situation, Inuyasha might have pointed out that it was usually Kagome watching out for Kikyou at any given moment, but right now Kikyou just looked so... sincere.  

“Like I said,” Kikyou continued, “we’ve all made mistakes before.” Her eyes were downcast as she gently took his hand and held it in both of hers. Inuyasha’s heart thumped in his chest. Did she mean-

“Come on, Kagome,” Kikyou said quickly, looking up once more to meet Inuyasha’s eyes before releasing him slowly, then turning and leading Kagome by the waist toward the door.

Inuyasha swallowed, his heart still pounding. What in the hell was going on?

 


 

Miroku took another drag of his smoke as Kikyou and Kagome passed by (Kikyou pointedly frowning and waving the smoke away with a brief look of disgust at him), restraining himself from dancing for joy. It might not be appropriate at this moment. He was also restraining himself from grabbing Sango and kissing the daylights out of her. He had no clue at this point what she had said to Kikyou to get her to act like this, but the girl was a goddamn master puppeteer.

“Wait, Miss Kagome!” Nazuna rushed down the western hallway and returned with her arms full of the huge beautiful gown Kagome had worn the night before. On top of the pile were a pair of...was that black lace? And were they split up the side?

Kagome stopped short, face red as a tomato, and quickly took the pile of clothing from the maid’s outstretched arms. “Thank you, Nazuna,” she said quietly, quickly shoving the underwear under the folds of the tulle skirt fabric.

Miroku was pretty sure he and Sango might have been the only ones who noticed the look of pure venom Kikyou shot for a split second at the back of her younger sister’s head, but in a blink it was gone.

“Just one more thing, before you go,” Sango said quickly, trying to get Kikyou’s head back in the game, “We got rid of all the party photos and the slanderous stuff, but we still have Kagome on record as Kouga Okami’s date to the HFA’s last night. She’s public interest now and we need to address that.”

Kikyou turned to Sango with a flat, “Excuse me?”

“The photos were only up for an hour, if that,” Sango continued, “but even though most of the gossip world won’t know what Kagome got up to last night, they’ll still start recognizing her when she accompanies you to the rest of the events this season.”

Kikyou’s grip must have tightened on her sister’s shoulder, because Kagome winced a little.

“What do we do?” Kagome said, “Should I just disappear for a while? Get Kikyou a new assistant?”

“I think that would do more harm than good,” Miroku swept in deftly, “The second we just make Kagome disappear from the public eye, the more interested the vultures become. They’ll wonder what we have to hide.” He didn’t add that by adding and deleting those blurry party photos to celeb-tattle-dot-com, he and Sango had done just that - bait the public interest. Now dance, little puppets, dance.

“So what do you propose?” Kikyou said, drawing herself up to her full height and folding her arms. Ah, theeeere she is. That’s the Kikyou we know and remember. Best not to push too hard or this whole dang opera falls apart.

“Just this,” Sango said, actually looking nervous for a split second as her eyes shot to Miroku’s, “We’ll start bringing Kagome along on red carpets as your guest and not your assistant. She’ll attend premieres, sit at your table at all the awards shows, be shown cheering in your corner, if you will. It’s a great angle - the younger sister showing up, the family bond accentuated, all the way to the Oscars. Everyone loves a good bond between siblings. Look at Jake and Maggie Gyllenhaal.”

Kagome’s eyes were wide with shock. Kikyou’s, however, narrowed slightly with thought.

“What about her job?” Kikyou said in a clipped tone.

“I’m sure Kagome can get everything taken care of like she always does,” Sango said, casting the younger sister a warm smile, “It’s just now she gets a seat at the table for the time being.”

Miroku could almost see the wheels turning in Kikyou’s head before she finally turned to her sister with a smile.

“Well, Kagome,” she said, her voice sweet as syrup, “Guess you’ll get to see what it’s like to be me for a while. Aren’t you excited?

Kagome looked a little faint. “S-sure,” she said, smiling weakly.

“Now wait just a goddamn minute,” Inuyasha said, looking at Kagome with not a little concern, “She shows up on one red carpet, a stupid decision, I’ll grant you, and now she’s some sort of prop?

“Don’t think of it like that,” Miroku said, “Think of it as Kagome getting her turn to shine.”

At that, Kikyou shot another daggerlike glare into the back of her younger sister’s head, but once again, it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “Kagome,” he said, seemingly ignoring everyone else in the room, “Are you okay with this?”

How touching, Inuyasha, but you’re killing my vibe. We’re trying to make Kikyou jealous here, not cause a murder spree.

Sango, as usual, could always be counted upon. “Don’t you worry,” she said sweetly, smiling at Kagome, “We’ll help you through it. You want to help your sister, right? And Inuyasha? This will only mean good publicity for everyone.”

Boom. They had her. “Of course,” Kagome said with a nod, still looking at Inuyasha as if trying to assure him that the decision was, indeed, her own.

“Good. So we’ve got the LA Film Critics Award announcement next week, but the ceremony’s not until-”

“January 13,” Kagome supplied quietly.

“Right. Actually, next week is going to be crazy. No red carpet events, but LA Film Critics Awards and New York Film Critics Awards are announcing winners ahead of time, and then the Critics Choice and Golden Globe noms are announced live on TV. We need to get everyone out and visible and happy and keep everyone in the public eye.”

“Aren’t we visible enough already,” Inuyasha groaned.

“Inuyasha, I’m surprised at you,” Miroku said, “You know how all this works.”

“I know, I know,” Inuyasha said, taking out another cigarette, “I’m just fucking exhausted thinking about it.”

“Well since everyone in here is going to be smoking, apparently,” Kikyou said snippily, “We’ll be leaving now.” She turned to the front door and Nazuna opened it promptly and held it open.

“Kagome,” Miroku said, “We’ll give you a call tomorrow and go through our game plan for next week.”

Kagome nodded weakly, glancing back over her shoulder once at Inuyasha before Kikyou ushered her out the door.

Inuyasha took the cigarette from his mouth, examined it, seemed to think about it for a second, and then said, “Fuck it,” and stubbed it in the ashtray.

 


 

When they were in the car, Kagome gently placed the bundle of blue tulle on the limo floor. Kikyou crossed her legs, her foot bobbing up and down.

“Did you sleep with him?” Kikyou said sharply, looking out the window, arms folded.

“No,” Kagome said, almost pleadingly, burying her face in her hands. Would people please stop asking that question? It hurt to hear it.

Kikyou turned to face her, lowering her sunglasses, almost gauging Kagome’s reaction. “Are you sure?”

Yes, ” Kagome said, looking her square in the eye. I guess all isn’t as forgiven as I thought…

“Well then,” Kikyou said, replacing her sunglasses and returning to her gaze out the window, “I suppose we’d better go through my closets and find you a dress or two.”

Kagome just nodded, looking down at the enormous sweatshirt. She looked utterly ridiculous in this oversized tent of a garment, silk boxers, and her high heels from the night before. She knew it, and she knew Kikyou knew it.

“That gown,” Kikyou said without turning around, gesturing at the crumpled mess on the floor with her stilettoed foot, “It needs to be dry-cleaned. And it’s coming out of your salary.”

Kagome felt a lump in her throat, swallowed it, and said, “Understood.”

Chapter 18: Beer-Branded Beer

Summary:

In which Sango and Miroku push the It Couple even closer together, Kagome sits at a bar and thinks of unhappy memories, and a few unexpected arrivals might make dinner plans even more interesting.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Eighteen

Beer-Branded Beer

 

“There, you see? That wasn’t so awful, was it?” Miroku poured whiskeys for the three remaining people in the house. Sango sidled up and took one out of his outstretched hand, then pulled up a barstool and sat.

He didn’t need to look at Sango to know she was trying not to scoff at his easy appraisal of the situation, but Inuyasha was looking well and truly dazed. Mystified, even.

“It’s like…” Inuyasha began, then trailed off.

“It’s like…?” Sango took a sip of whiskey, then motioned for him to go on.

“It’s like she’s on a ton of Xanax or something.”

Miroku glanced at Sango questioningly. She rolled her eyes at him as if to say “No, you idiot, I didn’t force feed her Xanax.”

Miroku smiled and shrugged. “Maybe she’s being genuine? You never know. Sometimes you don’t know what you got until it’s gone.” Ugh, now I’m quoting power ballads from the 80’s? Kill me.

Inuyasha groaned, like this news was more exasperating than exhilarating. “How does she do that? I’ve hated her guts for seven months, and now she’s got me thinking she might want me back? Ugh, I gotta go for a run or something. You guys can hang out here. Or leave. Whatever.” 

“One little thing,” Sango called after him, reaching for the cigarette in Miroku’s hand and taking a puff.

“What?” Inuyasha snapped, turning around. “I didn’t know you smoked, Sango.”

“I don’t smoke,” she said, exhaling and handing the cigarette back to Miroku, “The studio has arranged for you to have dinner with Kikyou at Nobu tomorrow night.”

“A fucking pap stroll? Are you kidding me right now?” Inuyasha raked both hands through his hair.

“Just dinner. You don’t even have to order appetizers. But some Academy members are also going to be there.”

“How the hell do you even know that?”

“I used to work for the CIA,” Sango said dully.

Miroku tried not to choke on his drink from laughing.

Sango shot him a grin, then turned back to Inuyasha. “I have an old girlfriend from high school who’s still the bartender there. Never got her big break, poor dear.”

Inuyasha glowered. “I don’t care. I’m not doing it.”

“Inuyasha, you’re an actor. Order an entree, try the wine, smile, catch up, then leave in separate cars. This isn’t rocket science. The press needs to see you and Kikyou making nice.” Miroku ran a hand through his hair.

“Kikyou already agreed to it,” Sango said, sipping her drink with a sidecast glance.

Boom.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Inuyasha spat, “but now you two fuck off and leave me alone for the rest of the day.”

“Thanks, hon! Miroku, do you mind dropping me off at the office? It seems Kikyou stole my limo,” Sango said brightly, finishing off the shot of whiskey and grabbing her purse, then heading toward the door with Miroku hot on her heels.

 


 

Once they were in Miroku’s car, Sango sighed and sank into the passenger seat. “Ugh,” she murmured, pulling her Chanel sunglasses down over her eyes, “Ten in the morning and I’m already exhausted.”

“We can always take the rest of the afternoon off,” Miroku said, turning the key in the ignition and then reaching over to squeeze her thigh gently.

“Maybe you can, Mister Single-Client. I have a studio to promote and a meeting with Warner at noon. Have to get the updates on the reshoots. Have to call Dame Judi Dench about accepting the Lifetime Achievement Award…” She trailed off. 

“Say no more,” Miroku said, kicking the car into gear, “let’s get you to the office where you can run the world.”

Sango just smiled and remained silent for the rest of the ride, thinking just how cute he looked when he was being kind. It didn’t happen that often.

 


 

“Good evening, ladies. Welcome to Nobu,” the maitre d’ said, inclining his head respectfully.

“Hi,” Kagome said softly, stepping up to the podium, “we have a reservation under ‘Warner.’”

“Indeed you do, Miss Higurashi.” The maitre d’, in fact, all the front-of-house staff in the lobby, was looking at Kikyou and focused entirely on her. Kikyou had, of course, dressed for the occasion in a long-sleeved, lace-lined Prada evening gown, her hair long, straight, and loose, spilling over one shoulder. Kagome, standing beside her in a standard-issue navy blue number from French Connection, sighed almost inaudibly and gave a complacent smile as the maitre d’ walked around the podium to personally escort the Grand High Miss Kikyou Higurashi to her table.

Inuyasha was already there, at the table by the window overlooking a magnificent view of the Pacific Ocean and at the sight of Kikyou he was clearly about to fall all over himself; as they approached, he made to stand in greeting and had nearly upset his water glass. The quiet dinner atmosphere Kagome made sure Kikyou was seated, assured that the waiter knew that Miss Higurashi was to have a gluten-free menu courtesy of the chef, and all but raced to the bar before Inuyasha could even say a word to her in greeting. Best not to tempt fate in public.

“What can I get you, miss?”

“Do you have beer here?” Kagome said quickly, sliding into the seat, staring at her black-painted manicure.

“We don’t have it in the building, ma’am.” The barman sniffed, raising an eyebrow.

Well, la-dee-freaking-da. “Champagne?” she tried.

The bartender looked at her dully. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, ma’am.”

Kagome suppressed a snort. Once she and Inuyasha had had a wonderful conversation about the inaccuracy of drink orders in movies. Apparently in celluloid-land, there were no brands, just ‘Beer’ branded beer, ‘Whiskey’ branded whiskey, and so on. They’d had quite a laugh about it. Now, of course, she was just distracted.

“Just bring me whatever you think is best,” she said with a friendly smile. The bartender did not return it as he went to retrieve a glass.

When the barman set her drink in front of her, she thanked him and he quickly resumed his attentions on the other end of the bar where an older man was buying sake after sake for his young, curvaceous date. 

Kagome sipped her drink and chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. Kikyou and Inuyasha were sitting down, Kikyou’s smile easy and warm, Inuyasha’s a mite more uncomfortable, looking to and fro at the other patrons. People in the restaurant were starting to buzz and whisper to their dates to look over there, that’s Kikyou Higurashi and Inuyasha Takahashi, oh my goodness, I thought they busted up, how strange, blah blah blah.

Kagome drummed her fingertips on the table, trying to keep from looking too glum.

And then, in her mind’s eye, she was eighteen again, sitting in a hospital room holding her mother’s hand. Kikyou had already been in and out, and had been too hysterical to remain in the room for what both sisters knew were the final moments. 

Her mother, once a great beauty, was paper-thin and jaundiced, her head wrapped in a scarf to hide her bald head. Cancer had ravaged her body, and now it was time for her to go. Kagome knew that and simply held her hand, not crying, surprised at her own lack of emotions at a time like this. Was she a bad person? She had known this day was coming for months and had always expected herself to cry when it was time.

“My sweet Kagome,” her mother said, smiling in that easy, tolerant way that Kikyou was so good at imitating, “I know you wanted to go to journalism school.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Kagome said quickly.

“It’s just that with me gone, there will be no one to help Kikyou. She’s so talented, Kagome. She’s going to be what I never was. What I never got a chance to be.”

“I know, Mom. It’s okay. I’ll help her, I promise.”

“I wish I could be here to see her succeed.” Her mother’s eyes closed wistfully, tears brimming in them.

“We’ll make you proud, Mom,” Kagome patted her hand gently, not knowing what else to say. This was weird and terrible and awkward and heartbreaking all at once, and she was truly at a loss for what you were supposed to do when saying a goodbye this final.

“Can you--I hate to ask this--can you see if Kikyou would come in here just one more time? I know this is all so very hard for her, but…” Her mother trailed off.

“Sure, Mom,” Kagome said, standing up, feeling extremely hollow and empty and hating herself for it, “She’s out in the hall with Inuyasha. I’ll get her.”

Kagome opened the door and poked her head out. Kikyou was curled up on Inuyasha’s lap, sobbing into his shoulder. He was rubbing circles into her back, looking crestfallen and just as somber as she was. They both looked up at Kagome, expectant but hesitant.

“Kikyou,” Kagome said quietly and evenly, looking at the floor, “She wants to see you one more time.”

Kikyou wiped her nose. “I can’t,” she whispered, eyes frantic and frightened.

“Come on,” Inuyasha said gently into Kikyou’s ear, “Up you get.”

At his prodding, Kikyou got to her feet and on trembling legs went into their mother’s hospital room. Kagome gently pulled the door closed and all she could hear was Kikyou sobbing and their mother saying how proud she was to be Kikyou’s mother.

“You okay?” Inuyasha asked, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“I’ll be fine,” Kagome said, and once again felt like a shitty daughter for not crying right now.

There was a good five minutes of silence, both of them leaning against the wall in the hospital corridor, not knowing what to say or how to say it, and then there was a wail of sorrow from inside the room before Kikyou stumbled through the door, tears streaming down her face.

“She’s gone!” Kikyou cried, collapsing into Kagome’s arms. Kagome caught her with an air of practiced strength, and let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Inuyasha moved to assist her, lifting Kikyou somewhat out of her grasp, and their eyes met for the briefest of moments before Inuyasha mercifully escorted her sister outside for some air.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

A voice in her ear startled Kagome out of the troubling memory, and she whirled around in her seat.

“Oh,” she said, her expression flattening into one of faint distaste as she took in the sight of Kouga Okami standing there in a sharp suit, a blonde bombshell on his arm. The girl seemed to take no notice of Kagome and was instead looking over at Inuyasha and Kikyou’s table with a surprised and interested expression.

“How you doin’, angel face? It’s been a minute.”

“Three days, actually,” Kagome said dryly, turning back to her champagne glass and unfortunately finding it empty, then trying to wave discretely to get the bartender’s attention.

“Here,” Kouga said, sliding into the barstool next to her, “Let me. Have a seat, Paulina.” He pulled his date into the seat on his other side.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Kagome said testily as the bartender shuffled over, having clearly recognized Kouga, “I’m kind of in the doghouse and part of it’s your fault.” She scooted one seat over, leaving an empty barstool between them.

“Don’t be like that,” Kouga said slyly, trying to move to close the space and stopping at Kagome’s outstretched hand.

“Seriously,” Kagome said, her voice growing more urgent, “Everyone can see. I’m under a microscope right now as it is.” She shot a glance over to Kikyou and Inuyasha’s table. They mercifully appeared not to have noticed yet.

Kouga was obviously not listening, and gave the barman a wide, winning smile. “Another champagne for the lady,” he said, “Your finest cognac for me, and...what would you like, Paulina?” He gave a quick glance and smile to his date, who whispered in his ear. “And a rose for the other lady.”

The bartender, obviously much more thrilled to be catering to a famous face than just a lone girl in a middling designer dress, rushed to get the drinks.

“Really, Kouga,” Kagome said quietly, “there’s no need. I’m not staying long, just long enough to get Kikyou situated.”

“Kikyou’s here?” Kouga said, looking around with mild interest. His eyes lit on the oceanside table and then looked at Kagome almost gleefully. “And with Inuyasha. How interesting.

Kagome fought the urge to squirm uncomfortably. “Kouga, please, leave me be.”

Kouga looked her dead in the eyes then, appearing to read her mood for once, and held his hands up in mock surrender. “Come on, Paulina, that’s enough catching up with old friends for one evening. See you around, Kagome.”

As the two intruding parties stood, drinks in hand, Kouga took a half second before continuing on to the table he’d no doubt reserved in a dark corner of the restaurant to bend at Kagome’s ear and whisper.

“For what it’s worth, you look better than your sister tonight, hot stuff.”

Kagome rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the clench in the pit of her stomach at the words. Am I really that much of a shallow, jealous person, that one little compliment at Kikyou’s expense causes such a reaction? Jeez.

She took the glass of champagne sitting in front of her and sipped carefully, stealing a glance over at Kikyou’s table once more. Kikyou was facing away from her, chatting away from her body language, but Inuyasha was looking dead at Kagome. His expression was either stomach trouble or irritation. With her.

Kagome groaned, running a hand over her face, and leaned further down into her drink. She needed to get out of here, but quick. Get home, get under her covers, and escape into a romance novel where all the endings were happy and conflicts got resolved with a kiss.

Or not.

A new voice sounded behind her, female this time. “Kagome!”

She was enveloped from behind with a friendly hug, and recognized Sango’s signature ponytail hanging over her shoulders.

 


 

“Hey,” Kagome said, looking a little surprised to see her, “What are you two doing here?”

Sango smiled as Miroku deftly appeared over her shoulder. “Oh, just checking on our little social event,” she said, nodding over where Kikyou and Inuyasha were sitting.

Kagome nodded mutely. Sango took the opportunity to seat herself at the bar, Miroku on her left, Kagome on her right. Miroku, dutiful fellow he was, immediately ordered drinks for them. Sango shot him a wink and turned back to Kagome.

“Are you okay?” she asked, putting a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. Kagome looked really cute tonight, she thought to herself. A pretty little blue cocktail gown, her hair woven with a simple strand of pearls. Not a goddess in white like her sister, certainly, but beautiful in her own right. It seemed the one night out was already sparking a change in this little sister. Excellent.

“Why do you ask?” Kagome said, disappearing briefly behind her champagne flute and making sure not to meet Sango’s gaze.

“We just saw Kouga on his way to his table,” Miroku supplied helpfully as the bartender handed Sango her wine.

“Ah,” Kagome said, grimacing, “I’m sorry, guys, he just came over, I didn’t say anything--”

“Of course you didn’t,” Sango said reassuringly, squeezing Kagome’s shoulder, “It’s to be expected. Kouga Okami is the least perceptive man in history. As far as he’s concerned, that little date of yours ended well.

Kagome swallowed, obviously uncomfortable at the flashbacks no doubt going through her head. 

“Did Inuyasha notice him?” Sango said, keeping her voice nonchalant as she glanced over Kagome’s shoulder toward the ocean view table.

Ooh, he did. He was sitting facing them, offering what appeared to be one-word answers to Kikyou, his eyes still trained on Kagome, who was looking everywhere but at him.

Well, this is touching, Sango thought, but what we really needed was for Kikyou to see Kagome getting some male attention. Light a fire under her skinny ass.

With a short glance to Miroku, Sango shrugged. “Oh well, at least no one made a scene. That’s the last thing we need.” For now, anyways.

Kagome sighed, looking down at her lap. Poor girl. She looked tired. Well, she always looked a little stressed and overworked, but this was different. Sango inwardly resolved to try and be careful with her, as much as she could, anyway. This whole situation was obviously trying for a girl who’d spent her entire adult life holding purses and fetching mineral waters. Especially for a girl with a bit of a crush on her sister’s ex-fiance.

Miroku motioned to the bartender. “See that table over there?” He pointed.

“Yes, sir,” the bartender said, looking over and getting visibly more animated in his quest to serve.

“Send them a bottle of the Salon Blanc No. 4, with my compliments,” Miroku said, moving to get his card out of his wallet.

“No, no,” Sango said quickly, “Let me get it.” That champagne was 800 dollars a bottle. Let Randall Warner foot the bill for this little publicity stunt. She had it covered. She handed her company card to the barman.

Miroku smiled at her and she fought the urge to blush under his gaze. When he looked at her like that she sometimes actually felt like a nice person. How very discomforting.

Sango watched the bartender take the bottle over to Inuyasha and Kikyou’s table, and at the revelation that it was compliments of the group at the bar, Kikyou turned in her seat, ready to smile and wave, then realized who they were and sat back sullenly. Inuyasha merely narrowed his eyes suspiciously. You two could at least smile for the cameras, Sango thought grumpily, holding her glass aloft in an across-the-room toast, Of which, rest assured, there are several.

Miroku caught her eye after the toast. He looked a little uneasy. This wasn’t quite going as planned and he knew it. Sango wanted to pull her hair out; she hated being out of control.

There was a slight commotion arising near the front of the restaurant. A man was beginning to raise his voice despite obvious attempts at placation from the wait staff. Sango glanced over, only mildly interested.

It was Naraku. He was demanding to be let in, pulling the don’t-you-know-who-I-am card, saying he knew Kikyou Higurashi was here and he wanted to see her. The maitre d’ obviously didn’t recognize him from Adam and was trying to gently shove him out the front door.

Sango blinked, then looked at Miroku, allowing him and only him to see the ridiculous grin breaking out over her face.

Now this she could use.

Chapter 19: Sorry For The Mess

Summary:

In which Kikyou is simultaneously alluring and annoying, a public fistfight ensues, and Miroku makes an impulsive decision and will likely live to regret it.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Nineteen

Sorry For The Mess

 

“So, Inuyasha,” Kikyou did that magnificent move of tossing her hair over her shoulder, glass of champagne in her hand, “What should we toast to?”

Inuyasha was only barely listening. Watching Kouga Okami have the nerve to approach Kagome again in a public setting had turned his stomach in a way that made it hard for him to sit still. And Kagome had actually blushed when Kouga whispered in her ear!

“Inuyasha?” Kikyou looked at him, seemingly rather annoyed that he wasn’t responding.

“Sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair and grabbing the champagne glass a little too roughly, spilling a drop or two on the white tablecloth.

“What should we toast to?” Kikyou said, smiling knowingly and seductively, “To...our future, perhaps?”

“What?” Inuyasha’s head snapped to attention and he nearly spilled the rest of his champagne, “What did you say?”

“No, maybe not,” Kikyou said testily, now obviously noticing his wavering attention, “What about, to this year’s award season?”

“What did you just say? Before that,” Inuyasha said, his focus entirely on the woman in front of him now. It was practically tunnel vision now.

She must have worn all white tonight because she knew he loved it. He’d always loved her in white. She was a statue, an oil painting, a goddess.

She smiled knowingly and clinked her glass with his, then delicately sipped her champagne.

Inuyasha knew he must be looking at her like she’d grown a second head, but she seemed not to notice as she perused the menu. “So what should we order?”

“Uh-”

“They have a wonderful sea bass, I remember.” 

The waiter appeared as if summoned telepathically, obviously a little in awe of the two insanely rich and famous people in front of him. 

“I’ll have the sea bass with the heirloom tomatoes,” Kikyou said with a smile, “but absolutely no gluten must touch the plate, do you understand? I have an allergy.”

No she doesn’t.

“Oh, of course, Miss Higurashi,” the waiter said, scribbling frantically, “And for you, Mr. Takahashi?”

“The same,” he muttered, still not taking his eyes off Kikyou. He hadn’t even glanced at the damn menu.

“Now then,” Kikyou said, pulling her phone from her purse, “Excuse me for just a minute, but I’m sure you’re as curious as I am.”

“...what?”

She looked up at him like he was a brainless infant. “The Globe nominations, honey. They’re due to come out any minute now.”

Oh. This sure was a weird awards season, Inuyasha thought. He hadn’t even checked once. In past years he’d at least been curious.

Wait, did she just call me ‘honey?’

“Hmmm,” she said, furrowing her brow slightly, “Nothing yet.” She replaced the phone in her purse on the table, then resumed smiling at him, taking another sip of the very expensive and very delicious champagne.

Inuyasha said nothing. This was impossible , he thought. A few months ago he’d at least have been talking and getting a word in edgewise. She was reducing him to a stammering dunce with a look. She’d always been good at that.

“Who are you going with, by the way?”

“Huh?” Chalk up another stutter for the tally.

“To the Globes, silly.” Kikyou was looking at him with that concerned look, like maybe he’d suffered a recent head injury.

“Oh,” he swallowed a sip of champagne, trying to regain his composure, “I don’t know yet.” His eyes flashed over to the bar, where Kagome sat with Miroku and Sango. All three of them were facing away, looking toward the restaurant’s front door. Kagome had a string of pearls in her hair tonight. She really did look fantastic in blue.

“I see,” Kikyou said, and he tried to not make it too obvious where his line of sight had gone as the waiter dipped in to top off their champagne glasses, “Well, if you still need a date the week of, let me know.”

Wait, what?

“What about Naraku?”

“What about me?” 

And like he’d appeared from thin air, there was Naraku, wearing gym shorts and a tank in Nobu , of all fucking places. He stood behind Kikyou, practically snarling and panting. The surrounding diners all looked scandalized and not a little intrigued as they began whispering amongst themselves.

Naraku put a hand on Kikyou’s shoulder. Her eyes widened briefly, then she recovered like a champ. Inuyasha had to marvel at the way she did that.

“Naraku!” Kikyou said, turning in her seat to greet him, taking his hand from her shoulder and clasping it in her own, sending Naraku a dazzling smile, “What are you doing here, honey?”

Oh, now he’s honey again, is he? Inuyasha scoffed under his breath but kept his expression neutral.

“I’m protecting the woman I love!” Naraku snapped, his eyes fixed on Inuyasha’s, “What are you doing here with him? Without telling me?”

Kikyou looked up at him. “Naraku, honey,” she said as sweet as sugar, “I thought we went over this.”

“Did we?” Naraku said, spit flying out of his mouth, his face red as a tomato, “I didn’t think we talked about you going out with this bastard again in public, without me!”

Kikyou, seemingly oblivious to the now obvious whispering around them, kept her eyes to Naraku’s. “I thought you trusted me, honey.” Her voice was still kind, but her eyes were narrowed in annoyance.

Inuyasha gripped the edge of the table, fighting the urge to scream.

“I told you, babe,” Naraku said, looking down at her lovingly then snapping a furious glare back at Inuyasha, “It’s this son of a bitch I don’t trust. This guy attacked us in a club, and now you’re seeing him alone?

There were titters of laughter and even more whispers.

“You know what,” Inuyasha hissed, throwing down his napkin and moving to stand up, “You two sit down and have a nice dinner. I’m getting the fuck out of here. I don’t need any of this shit.”

 


 

From the bar, Kagome watched Inuyasha sit through the barrage of very public insults. He was seething . This could be bad.

She practically threw her credit card at the bartender and hurriedly signed the receipt (noting in her haste that the bill for three glasses of fucking champagne in this place was two hundred and twenty-five dollars).

“Aren’t either of you going to do something?” she whispered urgently to Miroku and Sango over her shoulder as she stood up.

They just looked at her blankly, as if they hadn’t understood the question.

Kagome growled under her breath and stalked over to Kikyou and Inuyasha’s table, where a small crowd of people had just happened to gather.

 


 

“That’s right, bro,” Naraku taunted as Inuyasha stood, “Get the fuck outta here. And stay away from my girl, you hear me?”

Kikyou seemed to be trying to catch his gaze as he moved around the table, but he just stared straight ahead, fists clenched, feeling his nails prick his palms from the effort.

“Naraku, wait a second.” It was Kagome’s voice. She had obviously rushed from the bar at the first sign of trouble. 

Kagome tried to put a hand on Naraku’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

“Listen,” she tried again, standing on her tiptoes and leaning towards Naraku to try and keep her voice low, “Come over to the bar. I’ll get you a drink and I’ll explain everything.”

“Quit your goddamn buzzing in my ear!” Naraku moved his arm to wave her off again.

The arm collided with Kagome’s collarbone. Not hard, but enough to send her teetering off balance. She collected herself fairly quickly, stepping back. Naraku’s eyes were still on Kikyou and Inuyasha.

Inuyasha didn’t notice anything after that point. He lunged.

“You fucking BASTARD!”

 


 

“Holy shit,” Miroku said as the two men crashed over the table and onto the floor.

Sango couldn’t help a gasp of surprise, which she quickly washed down with the rest of her wine.

 


 

 

“Inuyasha!” Kagome screamed, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him off Naraku, “That’s enough!

With an inhuman snarl, Inuyasha allowed her to pull him backwards, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and realizing his knuckles were beginning to bleed.

Kagome turned to Kikyou, her voice urgent and almost snappish, “Get him out of here!”

With a scowl, Kikyou stood, gathered her purse, and left, waiting for Naraku briefly at the door. 

Naraku gathered himself up, sent one last glare to Inuyasha and Kagome in turn, and without a word turned to follow Kikyou. He wasn’t nearly as bad off as he could have been, Inuyasha thought. Just a busted nose. Inuyasha had obviously kind of rung his bell, though, because he staggered a bit on his way to the entrance.

“Are you okay?” Kagome said quietly, eyes darting back and forth from his own to the crowd, who were either cheering for the jilted husband-to-be finally getting his revenge, or were hurriedly texting whoever that Inuyasha Takahashi just punched the ever-loving fuck out of Kikyou Higurashi’s boyfriend, yes that one, the one she left him for…

Inuyasha didn’t answer. He suddenly realized the weight of what he’d just done. He’d assaulted someone. In public . “Shit,” was all he could say.

Kagome put an arm on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of it,” she said, her voice steady and her eyes on his now, that unwavering blue stare, “Just get out of here, okay?”

He could only risk a short lingering look at her, not even able to mouth a ‘thank you’ for fear of cameras or whatever-the-fuck-else picking it up, as he gently pushed past her and towards the bar.

A quick flash of the credit card. God damn, his knuckles were hurting now. Hopefully, Naraku’s face hurt way worse.

“Sorry for the mess,” he managed to stutter out, and he pushed past Miroku and Sango on his way out the door, already dialing the phone to call his driver.

 


 

Kagome tried to ignore the stares and whispers as she gently knelt to right the upturned table.

“Oh please, miss, let me,” the waiter said, clearly still a bit shaken by what had just taken place, and he knelt beside her to gather broken dishes and champagne glasses.

“I don’t mind,” Kagome said, a little dazed, as if she herself had been the one just in a very public fistfight. I’m used to this, aren’t I?

Careful not to cut herself, she placed the hollowed shell of the broken bottle in the waiter’s outstretched apron.

“Kagome,” Miroku said from above her. She looked up. He and Sango stood there, looking a little shell-shocked.

“Kagome,” Miroku said again, “Go after him.”

Sango turned to Miroku, looking very clearly flabbergasted.

Kagome fought back - what was it, a gasp? A sob? “I can’t,” she said, face calm but eyes huge.  Everyone’s watching, everyone knows who I am. I can’t.

“Go,” Miroku said, his voice low and his expression kind, “He needs you.” This was all said under his breath and with as little lip movement as possible, and Kagome would have laughed if it were under any other circumstances.

He needs you . The words echoed in her brain, pinging back and forth like a pachinko ball. 

She nodded slightly, stood, and quickly walked towards the door.

 


 

When Kagome was gone and the place had started to resume its normal buzzing tone of conversation (if slightly hushed and conspiratorial-sounding conversation), Sango handed the studio credit card to the poor beleaguered waiter.

“Here,” she said, holding it out between two perfectly-manicured fingers, “This should cover the damage and all the dinner bills. Give yourself a good tip, say, forty-five percent.”

The waiter stammered his thanks (that was at least two weeks’ salary) and scurried off.

When it was all paid up and in order, Sango let Miroku take her arm and lead her toward the door.

“Why the hell did you tell her that? ” she muttered under her breath to him as soon as they were mostly out of earshot.

Miroku, for his part, looked a little bewildered. “I...I have no idea,” he said, “It just sort of spilled out. I saw his face, I saw him look at Kagome, I saw Kagome’s face…”

“Oh, for the love of-” Sango shoved away from him slightly and began stomping toward the car, “Wrong girl, Houshi! We’re supposed to be using Kagome to make Kikyou jealous! It doesn’t work when Kikyou has no idea what’s happening! She’s going to be busy with her gym-rat meathead punching bag boyfriend the rest of the night; how in the hell does sending Kagome straight to Inuyasha’s house after a huge public display like that work in our favor when we can’t send Kikyou right after them? Did you not stop to think that this might undo the little progress we’ve made with Inuyasha the past few days? Getting him accustomed to the idea of maybe taking Kikyou back?”

Miroku said nothing, still looking a little stunned at his own actions. He opened the car door and sat inside, scratching his head.

Sango pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright, take me home now,” she snapped, “I’ve got to think this through. We can’t undo this, but we can spin it somehow. There’s always an angle. Always.”

 


 

Inuyasha was already three fingers of whiskey deep and getting ready to demolish some of his nice, obscenely expensive furniture when his front door suddenly flew open.

“Not now, Miroku, I will fucking kill you if I hear one word…” He trailed off, turning to face the intruder.

He paused.

He swallowed.

“...Kagome?”

Chapter 20: My Favorite Kind Of Ridiculous

Summary:

In which Sango does serious damage control, Miroku puts his foot in his mouth yet again, Golden Globe nominations are announced, and Star Wars band-aids may yet become the fashion accessory of the season.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty

My Favorite Kind Of Ridiculous

 

There she stood, her car keys in hand, out of breath, in that navy blue cocktail gown with a string of pearls in her hair. She had this look on her face that was just so stricken , full of pity and friendship and...something else…

“Kagome?” Inuyasha said again, “You’re-you’re-” He couldn’t finish the thought, couldn’t even string out a coherent sentence, dammit.

She just walked in and shut the door. "I thought so...I thought you'd be drinking. You don't need it, Inuyasha. Not when you're like this. Not that much."

His eyes immediately fell to the glass in his hand, and he sheepishly set it on the bar in front of him like a child who had been scolded.

Without taking her eyes off of his, she slowly approached. He was a full head taller than she was, even with the short heels she was wearing.

“Your hand,” she whispered, after what seemed like ages, “Is it-”

“I’ll live,” he said, wincing as she took his hand in her two small ones to examine it closer.

“There are shards of glass in here,” she said, gingerly prodding at the scrapes on his knuckles, “I’d hate to imagine what Naraku’s face looks like right now if glass got in the mix while you were punching him.”

“Hope the bastard needs a fucking nose job,” Inuyasha growled, then sighed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I mean, I’ve wanted to do that for months , but to do it in public? During awards season with the press breathing down my throat? It’s a hell of a mess to clean up, isn’t it?”

“Hey, it’s what I do,” Kagome said, looking up at him and giving him that sweet smile.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said gently, fighting to keep his voice steady and fighting to keep his eyes from the dimple on her cheek.

What felt like an eternity passed until she gently released his hand. “I need tweezers, alcohol, and a shitload of band-aids,” she said with a small laugh, brushing past him as she headed towards the east hallway, “Point me in the right direction.”

 


 

“I still cannot fucking believe you,” Sango growled. They were halfway to her house and Miroku had the distinct suspicion that he would not be invited to spend the night tonight.

“I said I was sorry,” Miroku mumbled, wincing at the terrifying and intimidating aura emanating from the passenger seat. He wondered as an aside if pure fury would stain his new leather seats.

“He’s your client, Houshi,” she said, staring out the window, arms and legs folded so tightly he wondered her limbs didn’t hurt from the exertion, “So you’re going to clean this mess up in the morning.”

Miroku sighed. “Understood. I’ll make him play ball.”

Sango sniffed derisively, then her phone buzzed. She fished it out of her purse and furiously hit the unlock code.

A few moments of silence. Miroku decided to bite. “What are you looking at?”

Her face was impassive. “The Globe nominations just came in.”

 


 

“Congratulations,” Kagome said softly, a bundle of bandages and first aid implements in one arm and her phone held aloft in the other hand as she reentered the living room.

Inuyasha was sitting on the couch, having removed his dinner jacket and rolling up his sleeves (hard to do with one hand quickly swelling up). He looked up sharply as she entered.

“For what?” he said. 

She kicked out of her heels, which were making an annoying clacking sound on the finished wood floors, and continued approaching him, now three inches shorter.

“You got nominated,” she said with a grin, “for a Golden Globe. So congratulations, though I can’t say I didn’t see it coming.” She held her phone screen out for him to read.

“Oh,” he said, looking a little sheepish, “Thanks.”

“Kikyou did too,” she said quickly, “But she’s not answering her texts right now. I did call a doctor to go to the house and look at Naraku, though.”

Inuyasha shrugged and nodded. 

“And,” she continued, wondering why she was telling him this, “I told her I’d be out all night dealing with the fallout of what just happened.”

“I’m sure Miroku and Sango are handling it,” Inuyasha said quickly, looking guilty as all hell for bringing this down on everybody’s heads.

“Oh, I’m sure they are,” Kagome said reassuringly, sitting next to him on the couch, dumping all the cotton balls and bandages on the coffee table in front of her, “It’s just my way of...well...getting her off my back for a while, that’s all.”

Inuyasha just looked at her, his face unreadable.

“Alright,” she said, “let’s get your hand fixed up.”

 


 

“Kagome’s called Kikyou’s personal MD to their house,” Miroku said upon checking his phone when they pulled up in front of Sango’s apartment, “He’s going to check Naraku’s nose and see if it’s broken and needs setting.”

Sango didn’t answer, just rummaged through her purse for her apartment keys. 

“How are we gonna avoid him pressing charges? He’s a loose cannon now.”

“I know, I know,” Sango grumbled, “If Kagome hadn’t gotten in the way in there this wouldn’t have gone so south. We would have had a public argument and that’s it.”

“Hey,” Miroku said, throwing his hands up, “you’re the one who called Naraku’s gym with the anonymous tip that his girlfriend and her ex were making googoo eyes at each other at Nobu behind his back.”

She glared at him and he felt himself take a step back.

“What,” he said, shocked at his own daring even though that fiery gaze made him want to piss himself, “I’m not allowed to call you out for mistakes?”

Sango said nothing but resumed searching her purse for her keys.

“Babe,” Miroku said softly, “You’ve got to realize that not everything is always gonna go like clockwork. These people we manage, they’re human beings . Granted, most of them are fucking idiots, but they have feelings .”

“That’s not my problem,” Sango snapped, “What matters right now is getting this whole thing just right .”

“You’re already doing enough,” Miroku protested, reaching for her and stepping back when she snatched her arm away, “You’re playing the whole game as it’s traditionally done, schmoozing up to voting members of the Academy, making sure press is circulated, all of it. This whole extra drama for publicity’s sake is just icing on the cake. We’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” she said, dropping her purse to her side, her search for the keys temporarily abandoned, hands clenched into fists, “You have a single client who obviously doesn’t give a shit how he looks to an entire voting body or to the public. He couldn’t care less about winning, so you have it nice and simple, don’t you? I have an entire studio to please. Warner, the other executives, the shareholders, everybody. They all want results.”

“You say that like I’ve never been in your position,” Miroku felt himself getting angry, “Like you didn’t steal your position right out from under me.”

He regretted it the moment it left his mouth but there it was, the words hanging between them on that cold, dark sidewalk. Her eyes were almost red with fury, and she opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, seemingly swallowing a scream.

“Get the fuck out of my sight, Houshi,” she finally said, through gritted teeth, turning away and walking up the steps to her front door.

Miroku felt the air rush out of his lungs and wanted to run after her, to hold her and kiss her and apologize, but instead he got back in the car and sped off down the street.

 


 

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Inuyasha said haltingly as she took his hand, her eyes fixed on his knuckles.

“Not at all,” she said, tucking that same stray curl behind her ear. It always seemed to be the first lock of hair to pop out of place no matter her hairstyle, he mused.

“Great,” he said weakly as she positioned the tweezers above his index finger, placing his hand in her lap to get a better angle.

“I promise not to maim you too bad, though,” she said, looking up at him with a grin, and he forced himself to concentrate on her making him laugh and not on the fact that her dress had ridden up with her seating position and his hand was resting on her bare thigh.

“Ah! Damn, that stings!” he swore, fighting the urge to snatch his hand away at the first pluck of the tweezers.

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, but continuing her efforts all the while, “The glass shards are tiny , like powder. It’s seriously like you went through the champagne bottle to get to him. I’ll go fast but I don’t want to miss any. Can’t have you on the red carpet with one giant swollen hand.”

He chuckled. “It’s fine, keep going. Ignore me.”

There was silence for the next few minutes aside from the occasional hiss of pain from Inuyasha or sympathetic groan from Kagome. Then she pulled back, satisfied with her work, and just when Inuyasha thought he was off the hook, she was full on splashing rubbing alcohol on his open wounds without warning, ignoring his bellow of pain, and then applying an insane amount of cartoon-print band-aids over the abrasions. His hand looked like a damn kid’s show.

“Where did you get these bandages?” she wondered aloud as she finished up, clearly holding back her laughter, “Are these Star Wars band-aids?”

“Laugh it up, dork, these are yours,” he said, cracking a grin, “From the old apartment.”

“So they are!” Kagome laughed delightedly, “Well, you look very distinguished. It’s a good change for you. You’re a fashion guy, right? So maybe this will be the in look next season.”

“Are you done,” Inuyasha said flatly, though he couldn’t help the laughter rumbling in his chest.

She nodded but kept laughing and he found himself joining her, his spirit feeling lighter than it had for several days. Eventually she was able to work herself down to just a low giggle at the admittedly ridiculous sight of him, Inuyasha, the biggest male celebrity on the planet, with a swollen hand decorated with such wonderful bright colors it would make Betsey Johnson throw up.

He realized he was staring at her dimple again and mentally shook himself out of it.

“You don’t mind if I bunk here tonight, right?” she was saying.

“S-sure.”

Okay, now he was stammering with Kagome , too. What was it with these Higurashi sisters?

Kagome smiled again (there went that dimple again) and made to stand up. “Thanks, Inuyasha.”

She leaned in as if she were going to kiss him on the cheek.

And then Inuyasha did either the smartest or most foolish thing he’d ever done (he’d figure out which one later, dammit).

He turned his head.

Their lips met.

 


 

Kagome’s eyes flew wide open and she made to pull away in shock, but Inuyasha pulled gently at the back of her neck with his uninjured hand, pulling her down to him. The kiss was tentative, but sweet, and lasted several seconds.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god what the what oh my god oh my god

Her mind raced. Was this really happening? Was this really fucking happening? 

Wait. Is he drunk? No, there’s no way, he only got half a glass of champagne before he decided to plant his fist through it. Did he drink before that? Is he on drugs? Does he have me confused with someone else?

That last thought shook her out of her insanity as their lips parted.

Immediately, Inuyasha’s satisfied smile turned to a look of terror. “Oh god,” he said, “Kagome, I’m so sorry, what have I done?”

She was confused for a moment, then her hand went to her cheek and she realized tears were streaming from both eyes.

Inuyasha continued to stammer out an apology. “So sorry--took advantage--I’m such an asshole--”

His hands wrapped around her back and he pulled her close.

And Kagome, like the moron she was, began to sob.

 


 

Inuyasha felt her shaking in his arms and knew then that he was the lowest of the low. He continued to whisper apologies, trying to ignore that his own hands were trembling now. From what? Embarrassment? Anger at himself? Or...something else…

Kagome then attempted to pull away and he fought the urge to hold her tighter, as if that would make everything okay, as if that would erase the line he had just crossed.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again as she sat back on the couch, legs folded under her, shoulders racking with sobs.

“It’s not that,” she said, wiping her cheeks with both hands, “I’m not angry.”

“What is it?” 

“I’m just so... happy ,” she said, dissolving into heavy sobs once more.

The sigh of relief was immense and Inuyasha fought the urge to laugh. This sweet, wonderful, adorable young woman was, in fact, happy he had kissed her and he had never known the feeling of joy that was now bubbling up in his stomach.

He couldn’t help it, he had to let out a chuckle, and in response to it, she started to laugh too, wiping at her cheeks in an exercise of futility.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, “I’m just--sob--so ridiculous.”

“You’ve always been my favorite kind of ridiculous,” he said with a grin, and she started to cry and laugh harder.

“Okay,” he said in mock annoyance, “Is this going to happen every time I say something from now on?”

She was full-on laughing now, leaning on his arm for support. “Give me a--sob--second,” she said, “Lots of emotions--sob--coming out here.”

He pulled her into his arms again, leaning his forehead onto hers. 

Why did I never notice, she was right here this whole time and now it all makes sense, everything, all of it, it’s all so easy…so easy to feel this way about her...

“Can I tell you you’re amazing without you ugly-crying some more?” he said.

Apparently not. He started to laugh harder.

“Can you at least stop long enough for me to kiss you again?” he choked out, grinning from ear to ear.

Ah, she could do that.

Chapter 21: That Would Be Clapping

Summary:

In which a couple cuddles and is just too cute for words, Naraku has a flight to catch, Sango is well and truly done with taking Kikyou's shit, and Miroku is ignored by seemingly everyone on the entire planet.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-One

That Would Be Clapping

 

Inuyasha’s phone was buzzing off the hook. He grunted and reached out a very colorful bandaged hand to grab it off the bedside table. 

Ten missed calls from Miroku. Had to be a new record. Oh, and several texts.

“Answer your phone.”

“Inuyasha answer your phone.”

“Looks like you’re in the gossip rags this morning for that wonderful stunt you pulled at Nobu. Answer your phone.”

“No charges pressed by Naraku. Prob can thank Sango for that, now answer your phone.”

“You got a Globe nomination last night answer your phone.”

“And you got the LA Film Critics Best Actor award answer your damn phone.”

“Fuck and the NY Film Critics one too and a Critics Choice nom dude you swept it now ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE.”

Inuyasha smirked, then looked down at Kagome, sleeping in his arms, their limbs entangled so tightly it was a wonder either of them actually got to sleep last night.

He tossed his phone onto the bedside table and laid back down.

 


 

“What?” Kikyou cried, “To Mongolia ?”

Naraku kept packing his clothes, his dopey grin beneath his heavily bandaged nose betraying how happy he was. “Babe, you don’t get it. I’m gonna be the new Conan the Demonslayer . This is huge. A real credit to my career.”

Sango kept sipping her chamomile tea and avoided Kikyou’s gaze. How singularly innocent she must look this morning. She had certainly dressed for the occasion. What better color than carnation pink to make one look non-threatening?

Kikyou, still clad in her silk dressing gown, threw her arms around Naraku’s waist from behind. “But you were gonna be my date to the Globes!” she whined, “And the Oscars! I thought you wanted to go to the Oscars!”

“Don’t you worry, babe,” Naraku said, disentangling himself from her nonchalantly and continuing to pack with that same doofy smile on his face, “By this time next year, you can be my date.”

Oooooh. Sango quickly sipped on her tea to muffle the temptation to laugh. Kikyou looked livid , but recovered quickly.

“Wh-what am I gonna do without you?” Kikyou demanded, her whine growing higher and higher pitched. 

“Oh, babe,” Naraku said, pulling her into a rough and enveloping hug (through which Sango could see Kikyou’s furious and uncomfortable expression), “Don’t worry. You’ll be amazing. There’s nothing wrong with going without a date.”

Sango burst out laughing and coughed to cover it up. She didn’t need to look at Kikyou’s face to know what reaction that statement had elicited. Go alone? To the Oscars? Seven or eight months after unceremoniously dumping her equally famous and much more likable fiance? The idea was hilarious, Sango had to admit, but it wasn’t like Kikyou was the dump- ee here. Hard to make a solo cheater look sympathetic to voters. A companion at least made people think, “ Well, someone can stand the bitch.”

“Fine!” Kikyou screeched, “We’re through! See if I care! I’ll just stay at home for all of it!” She slammed her hand on the wall to accentuate her point. The young maid cleaning the baseboards right below her cringed a little and ducked out of the way.

“Actually,” Sango said firmly, “That’s not an option.”

Kikyou looked over at Sango almost as if she had just noticed the young woman sipping tea on her living room couch. I’ve been here over an hour and you know it, you stuck-up little -- easy girl , she cautioned herself.

“I don’t remember addressing you at all,” Kikyou snapped, moving to turn back to Naraku, who had in that moment left the room to grab his weightlifting belt (had to pack the essentials, naturally).

Alright, then, bitch, you wanna do this? Fine. Sango was in no fucking mood to be talked down to anymore. Time to play hardball.

“That’s alright,” Sango said sweetly, “because I couldn’t help overhearing and I thought I could contribute.”

“You were wrong,” Kikyou snapped dismissively.

“Was I? Pretty sure I’ve contributed already.”

Kikyou looked a little confused and Sango pounced. She’d tasted blood and since she was in such a foul disposition, she wanted more.

“When I say I have, I don’t mean me , directly, of course,” she sipped her tea, “but Sunrise Studios, whom I represent and who made you who you are today, has contributed quite the large sum not only to this dumpster fire of a movie, but to your entire Oscar campaign. So no, staying home for the remainder of awards season is not an option.”

Kikyou nearly squeaked in indignation. Clearly no one had spoken to her like this in a very long time, maybe never.

“I will call Warner right now,” she said, her voice trembling with rage, “I’ll-I’ll have you fired . How dare you.”

“Oh, I dare,” Sango muttered, “and you aren’t calling anyone, because there’s no one at that studio but me who can get you the Oscar this year. Even with a middling performance in a largely forgettable movie.”

Kikyou was at a loss for words.

“Call Warner if you want,” Sango said, getting up to open and hold the front door for Naraku, who reached through and motioned to the chauffeur parked outside that he needed help with his luggage, “Go ahead.”

There was a moment of silence. Sango could see the wheels turning in Kikyou’s head.

And then...Kikyou smiled sweetly.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she said, “I’m so sorry. What with this sudden news of Naraku leaving, and with the drama with Inuyasha yesterday, and I can’t find my sister… I’ve been a little out of sorts. Please forgive me.”

“Aw, damn, I’m out of tea,” Sango said, casting a bemused look at her empty cup and saucer.

“Oh, please,” Kikyou said eagerly, taking the dishes from her hand, “Let me.” She turned on her heel and barked into the kitchen, “ Kaede! Our guest needs a fresh cup of tea!”

The poor elderly housekeeper waddled into the room. Kikyou dropped the dishes into her hands with a loud clack and turned back to Sango.

“Now then,” Sango said, avoiding the temptation to help the poor old lady up the stairs, “There’s only one person you could possibly have as your date to the Globes at this point. Unless you want to go the charitable route and take a homeless war veteran. That’s plenty of voter cred right there.”

Kikyou grimaced slightly.

“Yeah,” Sango said, “I didn’t think that was your bag either. So there’s only one other viable option.”

Sango’s phone buzzed for the umpteenth time this morning. She knew who it was and so she ignored it.

 


 

“Good morning.”

Kagome, who had been slowly blinking awake, sat up with a start, realized she wasn’t wearing anything, gave a small “eep” of surprise, leaped to cover herself--

“Whoa there,” Inuyasha said from his position next to her, draping a hand over her hip, “Too much energy. Take it down a notch.”

Kagome stared at him, breaking into a smile. “Holy shit,” she said, holding the sheet over her face in delirious happiness, “Last night really happened, didn’t it?”

“Unless somehow we both blacked out and dreamed the same dream,” he said dully, his hand stroking small circles on her skin.

“We did the thing!” Kagome said with a laugh, trying to run her hands through her wild tangle of curls and failing (too messy, would have to comb it in the shower later).

Inuyasha laughed. “We did do the thing. Several times.”

Kagome wasn’t sure what to call this feeling. Could you die from happiness? She was giddy . She felt stupid , but a good stupid.

With a sigh, she flopped onto her back. “We actually did the thing. I never thought--I never even dreamed --”

Words failed her, so she propped up on her elbow and turned to face him, mirroring his position.

“Maybe stop calling it ‘The Thing’, though,” Inuyasha said, reaching up to brush her hair out of her face, “That’s a science fiction movie.”

“It’s a horror movie.”

“It’s both,” he said smoothly, and they grinned at each other, then leaned together for another kiss. How many is that now? Holy shit I’ve lost count. This is amazing.

“Are you ever gonna stop grinning like an idiot?” Inuyasha said after they parted.

“Only when you do, moron,” she shot back, and he pulled her close so her forehead rested against his collarbone.

“Seriously, though,” he said into her hair, “How do you feel?”

She thought for a minute, then said, “I feel like high-fiving myself.”

He snorted. “That would be clapping.”

“What about you?” She snuggled into his chest. He held her tighter.

“I feel weird. But a good weird. Does that make sense?”

She nodded. “That’s about where I’m at too.”

“Want some breakfast?”

“Sure. Can I borrow some boxers and a tank top, as per usual?”

“I’ll do you one better. You can have all that and a robe , this time.”

“Uh oh, watch out, buddy, you’re spoiling me,” she laughed as they sat up and moved to get dressed.

 


 

“So let’s hash this out,” Sango continued, ignoring her phone buzzing in her pocket once again, “You got a Globe nom and a Critics Choice nom, but neither of the Film Critics Awards. Normally I wouldn’t worry about that, but the categories for both the awards you’re nominated for are generally much broader and easier to get into than the Oscars.”

“Stupid Meryl Streep,” Kikyou muttered, “She gets nominated every year like clockwork for breathing in an accent, and I had to learn to bellydance for this role.”

“You poor dear,” Sango said, careful to keep the edge of sarcasm out of her voice. “And it looks like Inuyasha swept all of his nominations last night. Interesting.”

Kikyou put her head in her hands, black hair streaming all around her shoulders. “It’s not fair!” she griped, as if Sango over the last thirty minutes had suddenly morphed into a good girlfriend of hers with which to gossip and complain, “We did the same movie, didn’t we? How is his performance getting so many better reviews?”

Probably because he spent the duration of the shoot learning his lines and getting into character while you spent a good chunk of it screwing your beefcake costar , Sango thought but didn’t say. She was getting a migraine.

Her phone buzzed again. She ignored it again.

“So if I’m not winning an award for the Film Critics,” Kikyou said, reaching up to take a bottle of mineral water from Kaede’s outstretched hand, “then I don’t have to go, right?”

“Wrong,” Sango said, “You need to go to show respect for the awards. And also as Inuyasha’s date.”

Kikyou groaned dramatically and took a sip of her water.

“Kikyou,” Sango said evenly, “We need you in the public eye now more than ever. You want that Oscar, don’t you?”

Kikyou narrowed her eyes contemptuously and sank back in sullen silence. “You have to make him be nice to me, at least.”

Woman I am a publicist not a goddamn hypnotherapist--

“We’ll certainly explain the situation to him,” Sango said with a complacent smile, “You’ll have to work your particular brand of magic for the rest. Also, have you seen your sister this morning? I have a few things to go over with her, like about the brand she’ll be wearing to the film’s premiere in three days’ time.” She fought to keep her tone casual; she’d been trying to get in touch with Kagome all last night with no luck and knew that what she and Miroku had talked about had probably happened but she wanted to call and be sure and oh, man, was this a whopper of a migraine.

Kikyou seemed to have forgotten that Kagome would now be her red carpet guest as well, and she scoffed. “I don’t know where that girl is,” she said testily, “And always when I need her the most!”

“I’m sure she’s just out running errands,” Sango said quickly. Best not to arouse suspicions. Not with Kikyou Higurashi. Sango had her right where she needed her.

 


 

“I get it, I get it,” Miroku grumbled, “No one wants to talk to me.”

Already well into his first drink of the day and it was only ten in the morning. He was a hot mess and he knew it. At least he still looked good.

Phone in hand, he collapsed onto his bed, still in his bathrobe and fresh out of the shower, avoiding spilling his drink through sheer fucking practice. He hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. He’d paced the floors of his spacious living room, tempted to pull an Inuyasha and break a few potted plants. He’d contemplated rushing back over to Sango’s and begging her to let him inside, let him talk to her, let him apologize. And each time, he’d checked himself. He needed to let things cool down.

Absently, he pulled up the celebrity gossip hub on his phone. There, in obnoxious pink headline, were the words.

“KIKYOU HIGURASHI AND BOYFRIEND SPLIT DAYS BEFORE ‘RED ROBE’ PREMIERE.”

Raising an eyebrow, he clicked on the article. Sango, you’ve been busy the past few hours. He quickly shook her from his mind and read on.

Kikyou Higurashi and her boyfriend of six months, Naraku Warui, have called it quits as of last week, sources close to the couple tell us. This is after reports surfaced of an altercation between Naraku and Kikyou’s ex-flame Inuyasha at Nobu in Los Angeles last night, in which a punch was apparently thrown. No reports on who threw the punch or whether authorities were called, but several patrons dining at Nobu seemed to recall the confrontation starting when Kikyou was found dining with her former fiance by Naraku. More details as they are released.”

Sango really had been busy. So this was her fix-it game. It was good, he had to give her that. Now if only she’d return his calls. It was weird not having her in his ear all day long, sharing ideas and schemes, sitting beside him on the couch as she made phone calls, her ponytail draped over his shoulder as she leaned into him affectionately even while dressing down some event planner on the other end of the line…

Well, he had a plan to get back in her good graces. Hopefully without too much bloodshed. He was starting to grow a conscience and it was weirding him out.

He finished his drink, set the glass on his bedside table, and jumped up to get dressed. People might not want to talk to him right now, but Inuyasha and Kagome would have to, dammit.

Chapter 22: Do Their Thinking For Them

Summary:

In which Inuyasha can't figure out his own damn kitchen, Kagome wears a giant robe, and Miroku regrets shipping his OTP and tries to make up for it with some carefully-worded manipulation.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-Two

Do Their Thinking For Them

 

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” Kagome laughed from her perch in the kitchen island, hair still a wild mess around her shoulders, drowning in Inuyasha’s oversized plush robe (“I look like Puff Daddy,” she’d joked when she first put it on) and taking in the amusing sight of the Inuyasha Takahashi trying to cook her breakfast all by himself. She was pretty sure he hadn’t cooked a meal in five years; that was the first splurge he’d ever made with a big-movie paycheck, hiring a full-time housekeeper and cook. Leave it to them to be in the house alone on Nazuna’s day off. 

He shook his head, glaring at the eggs sitting in the frying pan uncooked. “I swear, it’s just this damn kitchen. More like a spaceship than what I’m used to,” he grumbled, “Where are the damn buttons? Who designs this shit?” He fumbled around on the dark grey panels, looking very lost.

Kagome chuckled. “Are you really sure you don’t want me to help?” She rested her chin in her hand.

“No, no,” he said stubbornly, glancing over his shoulder at her with a sullen expression, “I promised you I’d make you breakfast. You sit right there and relax.”

“Oooh!” Kagome said after a second’s thought, “Do you have any cereal? That’s what I really want.”

He blinked, then the realization seemed to dawn on him and he broke into a smile that made him look ten years old. “Yeah, we do,” he said, “Nazuna’s always got something on hand. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

He scurried off towards the enormous walk-in pantry. Kagome suppressed a giggle at his childish enthusiasm and reached for her phone, which had been sitting abandoned on the kitchen counter since last night when she’d called the doctor to the Higurashi home. She wondered if she even had any battery left.

She did, but it was wavering at around twelve percent. Several missed calls from Miroku, Sango, you name it, but it was the six from Kikyou that really made her stomach drop a little. 

It had been nice for about twelve hours, pretending that she wasn’t the younger sister of the most famous woman on planet Earth, but now it was all starting to hit home.

What am I gonna tell her?

Interrupting her sober gaze at her phone, Inuyasha plopped a ceramic bowl down in front of her rather loudly.

“Okay,” he said, holding up two cereal boxes, “I have Cheerios and I have Raisin Bran.”

Kagome laughed, putting her phone down. Worries could wait just a little longer, couldn’t they? “So you just have old man cereals? Great.”

“Hey,” he said, looking scandalized, “These are healthy . Sorry I didn’t stock up on Lucky Charms; I didn’t know to expect you last night.”

“I know,” she said, pink rising to her cheeks ever so slightly, “Raisin Bran will be just fine, thank you.”

Inuyasha poured the cereal into the bowl in front of her and made a great show of pouring milk on top, then inserting a spoon. “Your breakfast is ready,” he said, sliding it up to her with a smirk.

“How did I get so lucky?” Kagome said, “Actor, celebrity, fashion plate, and chef.”

“That’s me,” he said, eyes softening as he leaned in to kiss her, “Jack of all trades.”

“Well isn’t this adorable,” A voice behind them grumbled.

They pulled apart and turned to find Miroku standing there in the archway, leaning against the wall, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. He looked a little disheveled and there were dark circles under his eyes, which were narrowed in the bright light of the kitchen windows.

 


 

“Have you ever heard of knocking or ringing a fucking doorbell?” Inuyasha snapped, removing his hand from the side of Kagome’s face and stepping away. Kagome, for her part, remained silent and immediately turned to her bowl of cereal and started eating.

“I called you on the way to let you know I was coming,” Miroku lied. He hadn’t bothered. “Not my fault you won’t answer your damn phone.”

Inuyasha gave an irritated sigh and crossed his arms. “What do you want, Miroku?”

“Oh nothing,” Miroku said casually, walking up and taking a seat next to Kagome, who was evidently refusing to look him in the eye as she ate her breakfast, “Just wanted to make sure you were alive, that’s all. How’s your hand?”

“It’s fine,” Inuyasha ground out, turning to grab his coffee. Miroku caught sight of some brilliantly colored cartoon band-aids on the back of his fist and fought the urge to snort.

“That’s good. Well done, Kagome.” He watched her choke a little on her latest mouthful of cereal and push her head a little further down. Even though he knew last night’s events hadn’t been Kagome’s fault, not really, Sango was still angry at him over all of it and that fact alone made him a little less sympathetic to the whole happy-and-in-love vibe. Ugh, I’m such a bitter cold bastard.

“You look awful,” Kagome mumbled through a mouthful of cereal, a look of sincere concern on her face, “Are you hungover?”

“Possibly,” Miroku said, “I didn’t get to go straight home last night unlike some people.”

“Are you done?” Inuyasha leaned against the kitchen island over his coffee, towering over Miroku’s seated form with a furious scowl on his face. He really ought to get that look patented; it was quite intimidating, “We’re a little busy.”

Miroku’s mouth got the better of him once again. It sure seemed like that was happening a lot lately, didn’t it?

“I can tell,” he said with a smirk, looking Kagome up and down, “You guys have apparently been busy for a while now, huh?”

He knew it was coming and didn’t flinch away when Inuyasha growled and moved to grab him by the collar. Kagome reached out with the reflexes of a cat and grabbed Inuyasha’s outstretched fist in her own small hand, stopping it in midair.

“Don’t,” she said softly to Inuyasha, though her eyes shot Miroku a baleful look before she returned to her cereal, “He’s just being an asshole. Miroku, cut it out.”

Inuyasha seemed to immediately check himself and his face grew gentle as he stared at his hand where she’d touched it. How precious.

Instantly, Inuyasha’s narrow-eyed glare returned as he returned his eyes to Miroku. “Spill it,” he said evenly, “What do you want? Really?”

“Well, we’ve got a premiere in three days. Little movie called ‘The Red Robe,’ maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“Great,” Inuyasha said, “So fuck off and come back tomorrow and we can discuss details then.”

“Afraid I can’t do that, pal. Especially with all the shit that’s just happened this morning. We’ve got to get all this out in the open and talk about it like adults.” Miroku fumbled in his pocket for his lighter, cigarette already in his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” Inuyasha said, watching Kagome putting her spoon in the now-empty bowl and getting up to rinse it in the sink, “Wait, wait, I’ll do it.” He moved to take the dishes from her hands.

“You really don’t know?” Miroku said, almost wishing he had a camera to film the reaction to this bomb he was about to drop, “Kikyou and Naraku went splitsville.”

“What?” Inuyasha and Kagome both cried, letting the bowl drop to the floor and shatter.

“Shit,” Kagome swore, “My fault, I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Inuyasha said, “That was me. Just caught me off guard.”

Miroku was pretty sure he was getting a cavity at just how cute they were acting together. There was a knot in his guts that felt suspiciously like jealousy but certainly could be an ulcer. Yeah, that had to be it. With the amount he smoked and drank and carried on? Definitely an ulcer starting. He needed some antacids, stat.

“Where’s the broom?” Kagome said, bending to pick up the larger pieces.

Inuyasha stared at her blankly. “I dunno.”

“You don’t know.” She stared at him blankly.

“I’m a fucking bajillionaire! I have household staff so I don’t have to know!” Inuyasha protested, looking a little embarrassed.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, stop with the cleanup and flirty chitchat for five seconds so we can get back to the subject at hand, please?” Miroku snapped, and they both turned to him with raised eyebrows.

“Fine,” Inuyasha said, stepping gingerly over the broken glass and pulling a barstool to the far end of the kitchen island. Kagome put the glass shards she had picked up on the counter and followed his lead, sitting next to him.

“When did this happen?” Kagome said urgently, “Last night?”

“This morning. Naraku just got the lead role in the ‘Conan the Demonslayer’ reboot. He’s leaving now for Mongolia and won’t be back for six months at least. Kikyou basically had a fit.”

“That sounds like Kikyou,” Kagome mumbled.

“You texted me that he’s not pressing charges for me rearranging his face last night,” Inuyasha said, eyes narrowed in clear suspicion.

“Oh, so you did read your texts, did you?”

“Now all of a sudden he’s being shipped off to Mongolia? Miroku, I’ve known you for eight years. I know when you’re full of shit.”

“I honestly had nothing to do with that,” Miroku said, taking a drag of his smoke, “You’d have to ask Sango. I’m sure she’d tell you. She’s not answering my calls either.”

“I thought you two were thick as thieves,” Inuyasha said, absently taking Kagome’s hand where it sat on the tabletop and interlocking his fingers with hers (prompting a blush from her), “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Miroku said, maybe a little too snappishly, “But now you’re going to get a ton of questions about Kikyou’s newly single status at the premiere junket. Just thought I would warn you. You know how the public and the press are. With Naraku out of the picture they smell a reunion coming. They’re gonna see you and Kikyou arm-in-arm at the premiere and start foaming at the fucking mouth.”

Kagome said nothing, her face impassive, but Inuyasha frowned. “Since when am I taking Kikyou as my date to the premiere?”

“Since Kikyou is newly single and open to the possibility, and since you made the bright decision to costar as the leads in a movie together. That’s not really a choice, Inuyasha. You know the biz. You know all the photographers are gonna just want the two of you. Oh, by the way, Kagome,” another drag of the cigarette, “You should probably call Sango. She’d mentioned she wanted to talk to you about whatever dress you’re wearing to the premiere. Kikyou’s wearing Versace so you probably should too.”

“To the premiere?” Kagome looked momentarily confused, “Why does it matter what I wear? It’s never mattered before.”

“You’re walking the red carpet solo. Your big debut.”

“I’m what? ” she cried.

“She’s what? ” Inuyasha echoed. God, they were just the cutest, weren’t they? Peas in a pod.

Miroku shrugged.  “We already discussed this,” he said patiently, “Kagome’s part of the whole shebang now. You’re part of the campaign now, kid, more than ever before.”

They looked at each other with uncertainty, and Miroku saw fit to continue. “Like we said, we can’t avoid having Kagome be of interest to the vultures, but we sure as hell can come out ahead of it like this is her big debut, with all the pomp and circumstance that involves.”

“And what does Kikyou think about that?” Inuyasha said skeptically.

“She’s thrilled. She loves her sister. By the way, Kagome, have you called her at all?”

Kagome winced.

“She’s been worried sick about you. You probably should go talk to her.”

“What do I-” Kagome glanced at Miroku, then fixed her eyes on Inuyasha, an expression of absolute terror on her face, “What do I tell her? What can I even say?”

“Tell her you spent all night calling paparazzi off of the house and spent the night on my couch to be safe,” Miroku said smoothly, “I even brought you a change of clothes. You’re a size 6, right?”

“Yeah,” she said softly.

“Good, I guessed right,” Miroku said with a smirk.

Kagome stood, looking a little dazed. “I guess I better shower and get back home, then,” she said quietly.

“Now wait just a goddamn minute,” Inuyasha started towards her but Miroku cut him off.

“Good idea, Kagome. Go get yourself all cleaned up. I left your change of clothes on the couch by the front door.”

“Thanks,” she said, meekly, back to the same old Kagome again. Miroku tried not to feel guilty. 

She turned to Inuyasha, already undoing the ties of the enormous plush robe she was engulfed in. “Can I use your shower?”

Inuyasha blinked and nodded, and she smiled and kissed him chastely before exiting the kitchen.

Miroku waited a hot second, then looked at Inuyasha, who was still looking a little out of sorts. 

“Okay,” Miroku said, “At the risk of you trying to punch me again, I gotta ask. What the hell do you think you’re doing, man? She’s Kikyou’s sister . I mean, I get it, she’s cute. Not necessarily my cup of tea, but hey, to each their own. What do you think Kikyou will do when she finds out you’ve been going behind her back this whole time?”

“We haven’t!” Inuyasha said, slamming an open hand on the countertop, which then balled into a tight fist.

“That night she stayed here after the HFA’s,” Miroku said, “Are you sure nothing happened then?”

“Nothing. Fucking. Happened,” Inuyasha ground out, though he refused to meet Miroku’s eyes. How very interesting.

“Well, when Kikyou finds out that all of a sudden you two are hot and heavy, lovey dovey, meant to be , whatever you two are calling it, do you think she’ll believe that nothing’s been going on before last night?” Miroku felt like an ass for bringing it up, but dammit he needed Sango to speak to him again and this was the way to do it.

Inuyasha said nothing, just frowned at his fist on the table. Of course this is only just now occurring to him, Miroku thought, I guess that’s why they pay people like me to do their thinking for them.

“So we’re not telling her,” Miroku said, “Or she’ll make everyone’s lives a living hell, especially Kagome’s. Got it?”

Inuyasha gave a sigh that sounded more like a growl and pressed his fists into his eyes.

“Inuyasha,” Miroku said insistently.

“I fucking hear you,” he snapped, “but I can’t just pretend. Last night...Miroku, it changed everything . All this time, it’s been Kagome. All the memories I’ve been hung up over, all of them, they’re all because Kagome was there, supporting me all the way, making me laugh, keeping me grounded. She’s made me happy, and now I want to make her happy. It’s all because of her. It’s not Kikyou I was missing. Kikyou hasn’t been Kikyou for years.” He ran a hand over his eyes.

Miroku hated it, but he believed him. The guy hadn’t looked truly happy in years unless Kagome had been around.

Feeling that guilty pang again, Miroku drowned it out by handing Inuyasha a cigarette and lighting it. “That’s quite an epiphany, Inuyasha,” he said, making sure to emphasize the sarcasm in his voice, “but I think you’re writing off your eight years with Kikyou a little too easily and conveniently, aren’t you? Maybe you need a little time and space to figure things out for yourself.” 

Inuyasha took a drag of the cigarette and said nothing, continuing to stare at his hands. He’s wavering, Miroku thought, Am I good? I am damn good. Move in for the kill.

“Besides,” he said casually, standing and going to the bar to pour himself drink number two of the day, making sure to pour another for his very famous and very confused friend, “I’m curious how being the new girlfriend of the most famous man in the world just in time for the Oscars could possibly make Kagome happy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this upcoming red carpet will be the first time we acknowledge who she is and her relation to Kikyou. Sure, she’s been caught in the background of photos before, and sure, she was Kouga’s date to the HFA’s, but this is the first time we’ve got her on a red carpet where we’re in control of the whole narrative. She’s going to be an asset to both of you in your campaigns, but only if you show up as the big happy reunited family. What will the press, hell, what will the public think if all of a sudden you switch from Kikyou to her younger sister? Think what that makes Kagome look like. One date with Kouga, a few scandalous paparazzi photos, and now she’s with you? The press will tear her to shreds. Kagome’s not built for that shit. Her skin’s too thin.”

Inuyasha immediately downed the drink Miroku had handed him, grimacing at the bitter taste and burying his face in his hand again. “You’re right,” he mumbled, the realization slowly dawning on him, “She doesn’t deserve any of that shit.”

“I’m glad you’re starting to see some reason,” Miroku said gravely, “So no, we’re not telling Kikyou about any of this, and you two are going to play nice for the next two months. Once we’re all home with gold statues we can work on how best to tell Kikyou that after one night you’ve fallen head-over-heels for her little sister, a girl you yourself lived with for eight years, and that nothing happened before last night.” This sucks. I suck. I am a bad man.

“I don’t give a fuck about the Oscars,” Inuyasha snapped, “I don’t even want to do any of this anymore. I could just disappear - Kagome and I could both just-”

“And go where, exactly?” Miroku said, taking a drag of his smoke, “Inuyasha, you’re not this fucking naive. You know how it felt when Kikyou did it to you, just dropped you in front of everyone. I wish there were some way I could spin this where everyone just comes out squeaky clean and smelling like roses but there are some miracles even I can’t pull off. So listen to me when I say this - you two cannot be seen alone together at any point. That includes house calls; the paps are gonna be watching your houses now waiting to see you and Kikyou spend quality time together-”

Crash. Ah, there went the empty whiskey glass. Yet another mess for poor beleaguered Nazuna to clean up when she got here in the morning. 

“Son of a bitch! ” Inuyasha snapped, but said nothing further, raking his hands through his hair.

Then they both heard Kagome coming back up the hallway and immediately sat upright, trying to make their positions look casual.

She reentered the kitchen, hair towel dried and spiraling around her shoulders, wearing the outfit Miroku had brought. “Whose clothes are these?” she was saying with a slight grimace.

“I don’t remember,” Miroku lied. It was a grey blazer and pencil skirt, smartly tailored and paired with a random t-shirt Miroku had just happened to find in his top drawer. The shirt had been his from college. The rest of it had been Lana Warner’s, left in a pile on his floor after one amorous night of deceptively romantic cuddling. Miroku had had it washed and hung up in his closet for when she’d come back to retrieve it, but she had given him the slip the next day and it had hung there untouched. On Kagome, the skirt was a bit long, but it would do.

“Great,” Kagome said with a grin, “So I’m wearing some random chick’s leftovers?”

Never stopped you before , Miroku thought, then mentally chided himself at how nasty he was being. He needed Sango back, badly. Somehow with her around, he was a nice guy, even if he did get them into some weird moral quandaries. Sango might be a wild power-crazy control freak, but around her he at least felt like a human being and not just a - 

“Inuyasha,” Kagome said, her smile fading into a look of concern, “Are you okay?”

Miroku glanced at him and realized that Inuyasha had been staring at Kagome with a heartbreaking look on his face. 

But never let it be said that Inuyasha Takahashi couldn’t fake it til he made it. Almost instantly, the look of sadness vanished and Inuyasha flashed Kagome an easygoing grin. “Yeah, sorry,” he said, “Just zoned out for a second.”

Not a great excuse, but it would do.

Kagome shrugged as she pulled on her heels from the night before. “I’d better go,” she said softly, stepping up to give Inuyasha a parting kiss. 

Miroku had to hand it to Inuyasha; he obviously fought to keep the kiss short and sweet, then ruffled her hair slightly. 

“Get on home, kiddo,” he said affectionately, “I’ll see you at the premiere.”

Kagome blinked at him, obviously a little confused, but smiled and nodded.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Miroku said quickly, whisking Kagome out of the room.

Chapter 23: You Might Want To Duck

Summary:

In which Miroku is overcompensating by being an absolute dickhead, Kagome has to face the realities of her situation, and Sango continues her metamorphosis into a stone-cold power player and tries not to let her conscience get in the way.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-Three

You Might Want To Duck

 

“I wouldn’t bother buckling up just yet,” Miroku said as soon as they were in the car and starting down the long gravel driveway, “In fact, you might want to duck down.” 

“Huh?” Kagome said, then her eyes followed down to the gate at the bottom of the hill. 

Paparazzi everywhere , clamoring around each other to try to get a shot of the inside of the car when it drove up, cameras and microphones held aloft.

Her heart fell to her stomach and she immediately let herself slide onto the floor of the car, wedged between the seat and the dashboard, keeping her eyes down and covering the sides of her face.

There was a sound like the whipping of fabric through the air, and she suddenly felt it around her shoulders - Miroku’s leather jacket.

“Put it over your head,” he said, “We don’t need them getting shots of you leaving this house. What will your sister think if she sees?”

Suddenly her stomach ached even more. She nodded mutely and from her precarious seat on the floor pulled the leather up over her ears.

There was a buzzing sound of shouts and flashbulbs for a few moments, and Kagome didn’t dare look up until the car had started accelerating properly.

“We’re clear,” Miroku said, “Keep the jacket on though, just put your seatbelt on. I’m taking some detours; we’re probably being followed.”

“Ugh,” was all Kagome could manage in reply. She felt a little nauseous.

“You realize,” Miroku said casually, turning onto a side street, “that there’s no way Kikyou can know about this. About the two of you, I mean.”

Kagome turned to him sharply, but he just looked straight ahead, expressionless. 

“I have to tell her,” Kagome said, the collar of the jacket up to her ears, “Otherwise, with her being broken up with Naraku, she’ll think that maybe she and Inuyasha are going to-”

“Kagome,” Miroku said sharply, “Exactly what do you think just happened between you and Inuyasha? Do you think you’re getting married now, because of one night? Did you think maybe his ongoing, undefinable relationship with your sister might just disappear because you managed to fuck him into submission? Do you honestly think he’s going to drop everything, drop his career for you?”

She tried not to visibly wince. “N-no,” she struggled to get the words out, “That wasn’t what I expected...I just-”

“Kid, you’re in over your head here,” he said, “And that’s my fault. It was an impulsive thing, sending you after him last night. You were both super vulnerable and obviously sought comfort in each other. That’s not a bad thing. Except you both forgot just who he is and who you are.”

The tears were coming. She could feel them. She willed herself not to sob. “Why are you being like this?” she murmured, not looking up.

He pulled back onto the main highway, toward the gated neighborhood and toward home. “I’m being honest, Kagome. I never said I was a nice guy. I’m not. I’m here to make sure my client wins an Oscar.”

“And I’m a complication,” she finished for him bitterly, “I get it.”

“I’m not good at putting things nicely,” Miroku said, and his voice was now a bit gentler, “But you need to step back and let Inuyasha and Kikyou figure this whole thing out on their own. They were together for eight years, Kagome, and the feelings are at least somewhat still there. Respect that, at least.”

Kagome wanted to protest that Kikyou hadn’t been all that great at respecting that relationship when she and Inuyasha had been together, but she fell into an almost sullen silence. Miroku was right. She’d had Inuyasha for one night and he’d been wonderful, amazing, just the greatest, but when he walked out his front door he was Inuyasha Takahashi and she was nobody.

“Try calling Sango,” Miroku said, obviously by way of changing the subject.

Kagome did. “No answer.” She looked at him under her lashes for a reaction and got nothing as they pulled up to the Higurashi gate.

“Should probably hide again,” he muttered, eyeing the waiting paps brandishing their cameras, and Kagome obliged, unhooking her seatbelt and sliding to the floor again.

 


 

“Afternoon, Kikyou,” Miroku said, stepping into the foyer and seeing Her Royal Highness seated at the coffee table alone, drinking what was probably tea, “I brought you something.” He motioned to Kagome who stood behind him and shot her sister a weak smile and small wave.

“Kagome?” Kikyou cried angrily, slamming her cup onto the saucer and moving to stand up, “Where have you been? Everything’s gone to hell! I needed you last night, and now Naraku’s left for Mongolia and I’m just a mess and everything’s terrible and you weren’t here to help me!”

“She spent the night on my couch last night,” Miroku said smoothly before Kagome even opened her mouth, “Poor thing spent the whole time calling all the pap agencies and telling them in no uncertain terms not to publish who threw what punch last night.”

“I tried to call you a few times,” Kagome supplied softly, running a hand through her wild hair.

“I was dealing with the doctor coming to the house and making sure Naraku’s nose wasn’t broken! Don’t you think maybe I could have used your help last night?” Kikyou crossed her arms and glared, “I haven’t even gotten my massage today!”

“You’re right,” Kagome said quickly, putting out the fire like only she could, “I’ll call the masseuse right now, okay?”

“Don’t bother,” Kikyou said, “I’m a disaster. I need a drink. Get me a glass of pinot grigio, now .”

And like nothing had ever happened, Kagome was back to being the reliable assistant as she headed immediately toward the kitchen to retrieve the grand high bitch’s wine.

“Oh, hello there, Kagome,” a voice called from the kitchen. Miroku recognized whose voice it was and immediately felt himself start to sweat. Sango passed Kagome with a friendly smile on her way back into the living room and only paused a moment upon seeing Miroku standing there.

She was wearing a light pink sweater and jeans, smart but casual, with gold hoop earrings and that typical high ponytail. She looked stunning and Miroku felt himself swallow. She looked like she’d slept well, and he felt a stab of envy in his gut. Just had to go and get obsessed with this woman, didn’t you? Right after another woman gets you in trouble, you go and find a girl for whom you’d crawl through miles of crushed glass just to get kicked in the face by her boot.

“Houshi,” she said shortly, “Glad to see Kagome was safe and sound after all.”

“Yeah,” he said, “Like I said, she had to hang out with me til the wee hours of the morning calling pap agencies.” He hoped the signals he was sending her with his eyes were legible; the signals said “Please for the love of god go along with this, it’s the best I could come up with, also I miss you already even though we’ve been apart for twelve hours and also I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

Sango at least got the first part. “Well, good on you for taking care of it.” He wasn’t sure quite what she was referring to, but decided to forget about it for now.

She crossed to the couch and Miroku noted that she was wearing her black Louboutins, the ones she’d worn that first night they’d slept together that had ended up kicked across the room, forgotten. He hoped it wasn’t obvious that he was staring.

Sitting on the couch and crossing her legs, Sango turned to Kikyou, who seemed to immediately snap to attention and focus on every word Sango said. Interesting, Miroku thought.

“So, Kikyou,” Sango said sweetly, “We’ve got a fitting with Versace this evening. With Donatella herself, in fact. You’re not busy, are you?”

“Of course not,” Kikyou said quickly, “We have to find the perfect dress for the premiere, don’t we?”

Kagome emerged from the kitchen barefoot with Kikyou’s wine, which she handed to her sister wordlessly and turned to leave the room.

“Seven pm at Versace work for you, Kagome?” Sango called after her, and Kagome stopped short, momentarily confused, then seemed to remember and nodded, eyes darting to the back of Kikyou’s head with not a little hesitation.

Miroku smirked at the way Kikyou’s face cycled through emotions of disgust, resignation, and immaculate perfection as she smiled sweetly over her shoulder at her sister. “Kagome, where are you skulking off to? Tell Kaede to make us all some brunch. You must be famished.

“I’ve eaten,” Kagome said softly, but immediately returned to the kitchen to summon their poor cook to get up and make some food for everyone.

“Me too,” Miroku said quickly, wondering if it was obvious how much he was sweating, “We grabbed some drive-thru on the way over.” No one could hear his stomach rumbling right at that moment, right? It was all in his head.

Sango raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. Kikyou merely wrinkled her nose at the idea of anything deep-fried.

 


 

Post-brunch, as she was standing in the magnificent foyer of the Higurashi home, Sango felt Miroku approach and immediately made a point of busying herself with a phone call. Pulling up her home screen, she saw a missed call and a text from her mother, and her stomach immediately dropped until she opened the text and read it, trying not to audibly sigh with relief.

“Hey,” Miroku said behind her, “Do you have a minute?”

“I really don’t,” she said, forcing the steel edge into her voice as she opened her email and began scrolling through various communications from Warner, agents, you name it.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said, and she could hear his almost pleading tone, “I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

“Ohhh,” she said with an easy smile at him that she didn’t mean, not for one second, “You thought I was still mad about that? Please, Houshi, I’ve had worse said to me before and I’ll have worse said to me yet. Your words can’t hurt me.” Except they did and you were right but that changes nothing.

Miroku ran a hand through his hair and she could tell he was trying to get her to look him in the eye, but she wasn’t ready to give him the satisfaction just yet. Because you’re right, Houshi, I am just a fucking puppeteer who can’t feel a human emotion. I have to be.

“Anyway, well done with the cover story, meager though it is. Just to clarify, it was what we thought it would be, yes?”

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly, “but I talked to both of them. They don’t like it but I think when push comes to shove they’ll keep in line.”

“Kagome was never going to be the problem there,” Sango said pointedly, casting him a brief glance, catching his eye and immediately returning to her phone, “It’s Inuyasha you need to keep tabs with. He’s an impulsive idiot and could undo all of this with one sideways glance during all the red carpets we need to get through this season.”

“I know,” he said softly, and she saw him out of the corner of her eye reach for her free hand. She immediately found an excuse to switch her phone to the other hand and placed her right one on the strap of her purse. She couldn’t let him touch her, not here, not now, because she might break down, fall into his arms, and betray that she wasn’t a cyborg, and that just wouldn’t do.

“Is it as bad as we thought?” she continued nonchalantly.

Miroku retracted his hand and shoved it into his pants pocket with a sigh. “Worse,” he said under his breath, “Pretty sure they’re actually in love with each other.”

Sango scoffed and smirked. “After one night? What are they, sixteen?

“It’s not quite that simple,” Miroku said, keeping his voice very low in case a member of the staff wandered in and started listening in, “Kagome always had a crush, and we knew that, but the two of them together makes more sense than I’d like to admit.”

“Get that thought out of your head right now,” Sango said testily, “You talking like that gets us in trouble, in case you don’t remember.”

“Miss Ryoshi,” a young maid said, inclining her head, obviously hesitant to interrupt the private conversation, “Your car is here to take you to your office.”

“Well, then,” Sango replaced her phone in her purse and pulled out her sunglasses, “See you at the premiere, Houshi. And make sure your client is really, definitely on the ball. We need them smiling and happy for the press junket. Later.”

She walked out the front door like she had no cares in the world and without looking back. Only when she got into the backseat of the limo and shut the door did she let the tear she’d been holding back fall down her cheek.

 


 

“What do you think of this one, Kagome?” Kikyou said, turning around in the mirrors. It was floor-length, a rich burgundy color, with long sleeves and an almost capelike drape over the collarbone.

“I think you look amazing,” Kagome said with a genuine smile. It was true; Kikyou could pull off the most high-fashion and risky dress like it was meant for everyone. 

Kikyou looked herself up and down in the mirrors’ reflections, and frowned. “You don’t think it’s too...dark? I want the camera bulbs to pick me up, not wash me out.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Kagome said.

“Do me a favor,” Kikyou said, stepping around the young seamstress pinning up her hem and continuing to stare at herself from every angle, “Text Inuyasha and ask him what color he’s wearing. I don’t want to clash when we pose for the cast photo.”

Kagome couldn’t tell her sister that every text she had sent Inuyasha since she’d left this morning had been read but left unanswered. She couldn’t tell Kikyou that every time she’d sent any message trying to gauge his mood, where his head was at, or even when she’d sent him a terrible joke she’d overheard on TV, that he hadn’t replied. And Kagome really couldn’t tell Kikyou that the only thing in this world she, Kagome, wanted right now was for at least some acknowledgement from him in a shortly-worded message that no matter what they might have to do for the cameras for awards season, in private they were still...oh god... something . That last night hadn’t been the impulsive lark that Miroku had made it sound like. 

Sure, Kagome was new to long-term relationships in general (she’d had maybe a boyfriend or two for a week at a time before her job got in the way), but it seemed like if you spent the whole night in each other’s arms, alternately laughing and kissing and joking and talking about life and making love like there was no tomorrow, that it had to mean something

True, they’d never said the “L” word, and that was okay since it was just their first night, but the way he’d looked at her… Surely there was no way to fake that.

“He’s wearing a slate-grey tux with a navy shirt, no tie,” Kagome supplied automatically as she mentally slapped herself back into the present moment and tentatively perused the ready-to-wear gowns, pulling out one in emerald green with a sweetheart neckline. Hmmm, she thought, this one actually might work for me and I wouldn’t look like a little kid playing dress-up-

“How do you know that?”

Oh, shit. “Uh, Miroku told me. Last night.” Whew. Can’t exactly tell Kikyou that I saw it hanging on the door of Inuyasha’s closet. Last night.  In his bedroom. Where he pointed it out to me and I called him a fashion plate again and he rolled his eyes in that slightly annoyed way but started laughing nonetheless. She felt that stupid stab of guilt flow through her again.

“I’m going to try this one,” she said, holding up the green gown, and headed behind the changing partition.

“Slate-grey? Ugh, what is he thinking, that won’t go with this one. Take it off,” Kikyou commanded the seamstress, who had clearly just finished hemming the gown because she gave an ill-tempered snort.

Kagome could still hear them as she shrugged out of her sweatshirt and jeans and pulled the green gown over her head.

“I need something in navy blue,” Kikyou said, “Do you have this one in navy blue?”

“We have a white one,” the seamstress was clearly trying to be patient, but after six gowns in the past thirty minutes she was growing tired, “I can get it dyed.”

“You have a white one?” Kikyou cried, “Then why am I trying on the burgundy?!”

“This is just for sizing purposes, miss.” Kagome could hear the resignation in the poor woman’s voice. “We can get the white dress dyed navy in time for the event.”

Kagome jumped around in a little half-circle trying to reach the zipper, got it, zipped it up, and then smoothed her hands down the gown. It was super soft and smooth, silk maybe, she wasn’t sure. 

Tentatively, trying not to trip on the overlong hem (this would most certainly have to be tailored to accommodate her being height-challenged), she stepped around the partition and up to a small side mirror where she looked herself up and down.

 The neckline wasn’t quite a sweetheart neckline, she qualified, but more a notched v-neck that showed quite a nice amount of cleavage. And there was a hell of a train, besides. A real grown-up fancy dress. Kagome couldn’t believe she was actually excited, since she lived in jeans with ripped knees and concert t-shirts, but there was something that made her sort of light up inside, just as she’d felt when she’d put on the blue dress she’d worn to the HFA’s. 

“No,” Kikyou said, and Kagome looked over to see that her sister was watching her like a hawk. “Leave it white. Inuyasha loves me in white.”

Chapter 24: There's A Red Robe Involved

Summary:

In which Inuyasha has declared war on a grove of palm trees, Miroku is a sneaky sneaky phone thief, and Kikyasha's red carpet reappearance (with a solo Kagome making her official debut) makes fangirls and press alike collectively piss their panties.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-Four

There's A Red Robe Involved

 

“Inuyasha?” Miroku called, ready to duck if something came flying at his head as he stepped into the living room. He was back at the Takahashi palace, holding a bag of In-N-Out (a peace offering, he’d told himself at the drive-thru, but really Miroku was hungry himself) and a really expensive bottle of scotch. 

No answer. It was around nine in the evening, so he wasn’t asleep, surely. His car was in the driveway (well, all six of his cars were in the driveway, being lovingly tended to by a garage attendant). 

Where the hell was he?

Miroku couldn’t help the feeling that he was in a horror movie and he was going to get beheaded by an axe as soon as he passed each corner. This was terrifying. He knew Inuyasha was pissed off. The question was, was Inuyasha pissed off enough to try and murder Miroku?

He might be.

Quietly moving through the living room, Miroku stooped to toss Inuyasha’s phone (which he’d shamelessly pickpocketed earlier) haphazardly onto the couch and then shove a pillow over it. There. Now it just looked like Inuyasha had lost it.

Gingerly sitting at the kitchen table, eyes shifting to and fro, Miroku set the fast food bag in front of himself and began to open it. “I got your fries animal-style,” he called out to the silence, praying that this meager offering would be enough to appease the furious movie god in his home domain.

Still no answer.

Miroku unwrapped a burger and took a tentative bite in the dark kitchen.

The sound of a chainsaw roared to life.

Miroku just about pissed his pants, all but throwing the burger down and standing up, knocking the chair over and backing into a corner. “What the hell? ” he cried.

The chainsaw sound was coming from the backyard. 

Peering in between the shades and by the light of the numerous outdoor lamps, Miroku saw that beyond the fabulous pool with a built-in waterfall, beyond the meticulously maintained garden, there was a glen of palm trees.

Palm trees that Inuyasha, dressed in a tank top and pajama bottoms, now seemed to be sawing down, one by one.

“Oh god,” Miroku sent a silent prayer that this wasn’t his last day on earth and stepped out the patio doors.

 


 

These fucking trees.

They’d been blocking the sunset for god knows how long, and Inuyasha had realized, about four whiskeys in, that he was sick of looking at them.

He’d run out of gas in the chainsaw once already, and had called the garage to have one of the chauffeurs run him over a can (which they had done promptly but with an admittedly bewildered look). Didn’t they understand that these goddamn palm trees needed to die?

Revving the chainsaw up once more, Inuyasha set his sights on the next fucking palm tree and turned his face away slightly to avoid flying chips of wood as he cut the sucker clean in half . This felt good, he thought, panting and dripping with sweat.

Stepping out of the way as the tree fell, he realized he might have miscalculated a bit as the palm fell leaves-first into the swimming pool, where it cracked through the finished stone border and sank like a stone.

“Whoops,” Inuyasha said to himself, then turned to the next tree.

“Inuyasha!” It was Miroku’s voice coming from behind him. Inuyasha turned to see the older man approaching, hands up like there was a gun drawn.

“The hell do you want?” Inuyasha snapped, powering down the chainsaw.

“To talk,” Miroku said, obviously hesitating to come within arms’ reach, “That’s all. I brought you a cheeseburger and some scotch.”

“To talk?” Inuyasha was ready to scream, then his own stomach grumbled. He was seven or eight whiskeys down and no food in his stomach. Either he ate now or he’d have a whopper of a headache in the morning.

“Alright, fine, sounds good.”

“Maybe leave that out here?” Miroku said, gesturing to the chainsaw. He sounded nervous as all hell. What a weirdo.

“Yeah, okay,” Inuyasha dropped the chainsaw like a stone on the grass beside him and stumbled inside. Miroku put out an arm as if to hold him up and he batted it away.

 


 

Kagome thought, as she was getting ready for bed, to try texting Inuyasha just once more. Maybe he’d been too busy to answer her; she understood that, of course, he had tons of people clamoring for his attention all the time.

So she sent him one more message.

“Seriously, are you okay? Are WE okay?”

Tossing her phone onto her bed, she sighed and turned on her game console. She needed to be distracted so she didn’t just stare at her phone like a pathetic child, willing him to reply.

About thirty seconds later, her phone buzzed and she all but tossed the controller over her head in her haste to grab it.

“Delivery failed. Invalid destination or number blocked at destination.”

That was weird. She checked the number. It was right.

She sent another text.

“I know I’m just being silly and overthinking this but you weren’t exactly affectionate when I left today. Was it just because Miroku was there?”  

Another thirty seconds later her phone pinged. Same error message.

So that’s why he’s not answering! He broke his phone or had to change his number because some obsessed fan found it again. God, Kagome, quit worrying, girl! You’re overthinking things, once again.

With a quiet laugh to herself, she put her phone down and picked up her controller again.

“Kagome!” Kikyou called from the other room, “I need some more pinot grigio!”

God forbid she reach out and pour it herself, Kagome thought as she paused the game once more and with a roll of her eyes walked out of her room.

 


 

“Can’t find my fucking phone,” Inuyasha slurred, patting at himself.

Inuyasha, you’re wearing pajamas. No pockets. Miroku fought the urge to roll his eyes as he poured them both a glass of very very expensive scotch.

“Here,” Miroku said, holding the glass out, and Inuyasha took it without pausing and gulped the whole thing down, then coughed a little in surprise.

“Scotch? I wasn’t drinking scotch earlier,” he said, scratching his head. There were leaves and toothpick-sized wood fragments in his hair, and he smelled like lawn trimmings. Miroku wondered what Sango would have done if she saw him now. Probably just smirk behind her hand and give Miroku meaningful looks. Ugh, there went that ache in his stomach again. Damn grilled onions all over the fries were giving him indigestion.

“I bought it for you,” Miroku said casually, “or rather, you bought it, since you pay my salary. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“The scotch.”

“What scotch?”

Okay, maybe any meaningful discussion was out of the question at this point, but dammit, Miroku had come over here with a mission.

“We need to talk about you and Kikyou,” Miroku tried, “In two days you have to sit together for a press junket and we have to make sure you play nice.”

“I’ll kill her with kindness. That’s what I’m supposed to say, right? You’re the press agent. You say bark, and I ask, big dog or small dog? Then I bark.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

“Dogs.”

“Why dogs?”

“You brought it up, didn’t you?”

“No. Inuyasha, I need to know if we’re going to have a problem with you sharing a red carpet with both Kikyou and Kagome. If so, Kagome’s out. She can stay home.”

“No, no, don’t do that,” Inuyasha’s head lolled over to one side and he smiled dreamily, “I want Kagome there.”

“Okay,” said Miroku, pinching the bridge of his nose, “but you and Kikyou are the main attraction of this event. Smile at Kikyou, hold her hand, whisper whatever-the-hell-you-have-to in her ear for the cameras. Got it?” There’s literally no point in doing this, he’s a hot fucking mess, but I have to be able to tell Sango that I hammered it in as much as I could.

“I got it,” Inuyasha said grumpily, eating another fry.

“And Kagome is…?” Miroku prompted, waving his hand.

“Beautiful.”

Off. Fucking. Limits,” Miroku ground out through his teeth.

“Sure, that. Yeah.”

Christ, this was going to be a weird premiere. Miroku was glad he’d acted on instinct and stolen Inuyasha’s phone out of his pocket this morning, because with the amount of alcohol Inuyasha had imbibed, Miroku wouldn’t have been shocked to have come here to an empty house and find that he and Kagome had on a whim eloped to Southeast Asia or some shit. He could just feel Sango glaring daggers at him and her voice saying “See this mess? You did this. Well done.”

He and Sango would just have to hold hands and pray. Especially the hold hands part. If he could manage that.

 


 

“Hello, movie fans! This is Yura Kaminoke once again, coming to you from the press screening of ‘The Red Robe’ in Los Angeles! I’m sitting here with Kikyou Higurashi and Inuyasha Takahashi, and guess what? Everyone is getting along!”

Inuyasha forced a genial laugh alongside Kikyou, whose smile was only slightly strained as she patted him affectionately on the arm.

“So Kikyou,” Yura honed in hard, “It’s been awhile, we know you’ve been asked this question before but, I think under the circumstances it’s relevant. What’s it been like these past few weeks, being reunited with your leading man?”

Kikyou smiled at the question and kept her hand on Inuyasha’s arm as she answered. “It’s been like coming home,” she said, “There’s no scene partner who understands me better than he does.”

That’s interesting. I remember having to do several scenes in this movie playing against your body double because you were in your trailer “sick.” Inuyasha’s sarcasm certainly couldn’t be voiced right now, but no one could police his thoughts, dammit. 

Normally at this point, he would have looked just beyond the camera to where Kagome was sitting with her book (her “battle station,” she used to call it), but Kagome was over by the door, obviously juggling several questions at once from studio employees about what color flowers to present the great Miss Higurashi with after the premiere tonight and whatever else. Poor thing. He had thought about calling her and explaining that his not-so-loving goodbye the other day was less of a changing-one’s-mind thing and more of a Miroku-is-watching-and-I’m-trying-to-be-a-good-boy thing, but then yesterday he’d been insanely hungover and basically slept about twelve hours straight. Besides, he thought, she hadn’t texted him either, so it was clear it hadn’t bothered her too much.

“And Inuyasha,” Yura turned to him and he mentally snapped to attention, “How has it been for you, after all these months apart, now that Kikyou is finally next to you again?”

“It’s been okay,” he said, but then a glare from Miroku off camera, so he quickly added on, “I mean, it had been weird before. You know, we were together for eight years, so you don’t just move on from that kind of stability very quickly.”

Yura nodded emphatically. “Of course,” she agreed, “And Kikyou, you were dating someone else until very recently. Was it awkward at all for you?”

Kikyou took the invasive question like a champ. “It was at first. Even though our breakup was mutual and friendly, it can be hard after some time has passed to get back together and rethink things, reevaluate…” She trailed off, glancing at Inuyasha, obviously wanting him to jump in and help her with her bullshit.

“Exactly,” Inuyasha agreed with an easygoing smile, “We’ve both changed. She’s changed. I’ve changed. Everyone’s different now. And that’s a good thing.”

Miroku didn’t move but Inuyasha knew he was likely mentally facepalming. What do you expect? You’re the bullshit artist, not me.

Inuyasha couldn’t chance a look beyond Miroku without the camera catching his eyeline wandering, but he was pretty sure Kagome had paused at that before continuing her fifty conversations at once.

“Okay, hold on,” Yura pointed at Kikyou excitedly, “Kikyou, you said ‘back together.’ Are you two back together?!”

Before Kikyou could reply, Inuyasha swept in. “We’re both not commenting right now.”

“Phooey!” Yura said, then turned to the camera with a wink. “Now then, on to the topic at hand. ‘The Red Robe.’ Can you explain what the title of this movie means to viewers?”

“There’s a red robe involved,” Inuyasha said dryly, and both Yura and Kikyou laughed congenially. Kikyou’s arm on Inuyasha’s sleeve tightened a little.

“Oh, goodness, you are just too funny! How do you live with him, Kikyou?”

“She doesn’t!” Inuyasha interjected, and the three all dissolved into almost manic laughter. Kikyou’s grip tightened again.

“Oh, Inuyasha,” Kikyou said affectionately, brushing his shoulder with her forehead in a loving gesture, “To answer your question, Yura, the film is about a courtesan, that’s me, who is involved in a huge epic story of forbidden love. A gladiator, that’s him, earns her affections but doesn’t want to pay, so they elope across a continent, with a corrupt ruler who will stop at nothing to get her back. The ‘red robe’ in the title is symbolic of what the courtesans wear in the course of this story, and how my character has to work past all the circumstances of her status and all her built-in self hatred in order to allow herself to love this man.”

Succinct enough. Inuyasha let himself nod in agreement.

“So, I think I have time for one more question,” Yura said, practically drooling, “Are you going to the Golden Globes together?”

Kikyou leaned forward but Inuyasha stepped on her again. “No comment.”

Yura looked disappointed again but didn’t let her smile slip.

“And that’s five minutes,” Sango called from the door, where she was standing with a clipboard in hand, looking most businesslike.

Yura smiled and left them sitting there. Miroku and Sango both shot him an irritated glare, but Inuyasha just folded his hands back behind his head with an easygoing grin and watched Kagome take another phone call out of the corner of his eye.

 


 

Just hours later, the red carpet in front of Graumann’s Chinese Theatre was once again lit up with spotlights. 

Sango stood there next to Randall Warner, running the whole thing via text message and quick phone calls while in a slinky black dress and four-inch Jimmy Choos. She could feel the studio head watching her out of the corner of his eye, even as he schmoozed with other bigshots, and she wanted to scream. Yes, I am handling everything, because I’m a fucking badass. Quit breathing down my throat and find your wife; I think she’s at the bar flirting with some teenager. Sure, she sounded bitter and annoyed, but lately that was her resting mood so it was fine.

The lesser stars were already walking the carpet, pausing for autographs and photo ops with fans. Only about three hours to go until the big guns arrived. They were likely all getting ready together right now.

There was a strange compulsion in her to text Miroku and see how things were on his end. They’d barely spoken in the last few days, as she’d made it very clear he was to give her space, but now she found herself wondering if perhaps she’d pushed too hard. It really was weird not having him around to vent to, to make evil plans with, or even to just sit in her nice-but-not-too-lavish apartment and veg out on some trash TV nursing hangovers and eating some cheap Chinese food he’d brought over.

She felt Warner’s eyes on her again and fought the urge to throw her hands up and yell “WHAT?!” at him.

 


 

“Miss Kikyou, Inuyasha is here.”

Kikyou looked up from the makeup table, where a young twenty-something girl with the most amazing blue and purple hair Kagome had ever seen was seated in front of the actress, working her makeup magic. Kikyou had elected to go with a bright red lip and black winged liner, and it would look perfect with the white Versace dress.

“Have him wait,” Kikyou said with a smirk, “Or, better yet, Kagome, you go. Pour him a drink.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kagome looked up from her own red-carpet treatment. She’d had to wait for the hairdresser to finish Kikyou before even starting on her, which was a little odd since Kikyou’s hair was by far the easier to tame and style, but whatever. Kagome knew where she ranked in the grand scheme of things. She wasn’t an idiot.

Kagome’s hair was halfway in the process of being styled. The hairdresser had taken one look at her dress and decided on a semi-1940’s style side updo.

“Kikyou, I’m in the middle of having my hair done. I can’t exactly get up right now. He knows where the bar is, and he’s a big boy. He can pour his own drink.” Plus, for some reason, Kagome felt like she didn’t want to speak to Inuyasha for the first time in three days with her hair only half-braided into a side updo.

Kikyou sighed resignedly and sat back in her chair, holding out her hand again to the makeup girl who was also doing her nails in bright red. It looks like she’s torn out someone’s throat , Kagome thought with a little amusement.

After about thirty seconds of silence, Kikyou obviously couldn’t stand it anymore. “Oh fine,” she said with a dramatic huff of breath, clutching her white terrycloth bathrobe around herself with one hand and allowing the nails to dry on the other. She stood and whisked out of the room like a hurricane toward the foyer.

Kagome watched her go, then caught the eye of the rainbow-haired girl and echoed her exasperated sigh.

 


 

Inuyasha had indeed found the bar. Right where I left it eight-and-a-half months ago , he mused, adding a few drops of water to a finger and a half of his old standard whiskey.

He stood, drink in hand, taking in how the decor in the living room had changed. Gone were all the vintage movie posters he’d spent days on end finding, restoring, and framing in heavy mats. There had been at least four here.

“She better not have thrown out that ‘Casablanca’ poster,” he grumbled into his glass.

“I didn’t, I swear,” Kikyou said from the hallway entrance, and he nearly choked on his drink, “We just moved it to the game room area. I wanted the room redone in pale pink and it clashed.”

She was standing there, hair long and loose and curled ever so slightly at the ends, leaning against the wall as if she’d been watching him dreamily. 

“Good to see you, Inuyasha,” she said softly, “I’d give you a better greeting but my nails are all wet.”

“I’m good,” he said flatly, shoving his free hand into his pocket.

Kikyou laughed as if he’d just told a joke. He swallowed the rest of his drink and went to make another.

“Don’t have too much,” Kikyou said in a voice like melted sugar, “I need you awake and alert and present with me tonight, okay, honey?”

“Whatever you say, dear,” he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm, pouring a generous amount into his glass, then headed into the game room to locate his old posters without a backward glance.

 


 

“He’s resisting,” Kikyou said as three women helped her into her dress, “but I know him. It’ll just take one night to get him eating out of the palm of my hand.”

Kagome grimaced, but her own dress was gingerly being lowered over her head by Kaede (who’d had to drop in to help since Kikyou wasn’t about to spare any of her hired entourage when Kikyou needed help) so no one could see.

Kagome was well aware of her sister’s long-held ability to inspire affection and devotion with a few well-placed glances, but she was pretty sure she and Inuyasha were okay. He still had never texted her back, and during the hours-long press junket this morning Kikyou had kept her so busy that she had never gotten even half a moment with him alone. He was still acting annoyed with Kikyou, so Kagome had that much to hold onto.

Unless it was an act to just get Kikyou crawling to him for once. The thought made her shiver a little, but she shook it out of her head. Positive thoughts, Kagome. Ignore your inner saboteur. She scoffed a little at the thoughts running through her mind; she sounded like some half-assed self help guru.

“All done, Kagome,” Kaede said in her grizzled old voice, and Kagome crossed to the mirror to take a look at herself.

She looked good. Damn good. Of course, her Versace wasn’t custom Versace, but it would do, especially since she had gotten it tailored to hug her curves perfectly. She’d insisted to the stylist that she be allowed to keep her multiple ear piercings in, but had relented when it came to them being replaced with diamonds. Her entire face glowed like the fire of a star, and it was kind of staggering. Sure, she’d looked pretty darn nice at the HFA’s, but there was something different now. She felt...less stiff. 

Being head over heels in love sure helps with the inner glow, don’t it? 

Keeping it a closely guarded secret sure did suck, though.

The open smile she sent at her own reflection was interrupted by Kikyou brushing past her. “Kagome, grab my new white fox fur, will you? Donatella sent it over with her compliments.”

Kagome stepped into her silver pumps and went to grab it from its perch on the loveseat, then followed Kikyou into the living room.

 


 

Miroku arrived in his simple black-and-white tux and was promptly escorted to the game room, where Inuyasha sat on the edge of a billiard table nursing a small drink and gazing at the posters adorning the walls.

“Are these your old ones?” he said by way of greeting, and Inuyasha glanced over his shoulder briefly, then turned back and nodded.

“I thought they got thrown away,” Inuyasha mused, “Kagome and I spent hours restoring these old things back in the day. They’re worth a shitload of money, probably.”

“I remember,” Miroku said quietly, standing casually next to him and folding his arms.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Inuyasha said, brow furrowed as he took another sip of his drink, “And I already understand, so don’t waste your breath. Tonight is Kikyou’s night and I’m going to play the part beautifully.”

“It’s your night, too,” Miroku mumbled, feeling a little awkward and like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He needed a drink too. 

Inuyasha apparently noticed him fidgeting and nodded toward a globe in the far corner. “Bar’s in the globe.”

Miroku crossed and starting preparing himself a vodka soda. It was practically guaranteed with nerves like this that he was going to spill something on himself tonight, so clear alcohol was a must.

“Have you talked to Kagome? Alone, I mean.” 

Inuyasha shook his head. “I guess I should have texted her, but I was pretty much out of commission yesterday. Besides, you told me not to, and like a good dog I’m barking when I’m told.”

Miroku smirked. “What did Nazuna say when she saw your spot of gardening?”

“That I needed to quit drinking.” Inuyasha took another sip. “She’s probably right.”

“So you haven’t talked to Kagome since…?”

Inuyasha shot him a look. “No, I haven’t. And she hasn’t texted me either, so keep your goddamn panties on. We’re doing what we’re told.”

Miroku tried not to look like a shifty raccoon stealing a dog’s breakfast and took a drink.

“Inuyasha, we’re all trying to win you an Oscar. I wish you would just sit back and say ‘thank you’ once in a while.”

“Oh, I’m grateful,” Inuyasha said, “Hell, it’s been my dream since I was a snot-nosed kid to be up on that stage someday. And I’ll be sure to thank you by name in my speech. A little extra publicity for you, just like you like it.”

Miroku sighed. Inuyasha was so good at pointing out the flaws in his character. He took another drink.

“Just know this,” Inuyasha continued, his manner calm but his voice deadly serious, “If this shit gets any more out of hand and Kagome ends up hurting, I’m leaving. I’m leaving and I’m taking her with me. Fuck all of you and your Oscar campaign. Got it?”

“Read you loud and clear,” Miroku said, trying to hide the fact that he was sweating and hoping that sweet, lovable Kagome didn’t decide to suddenly grow a vindictive streak and let slip what Miroku had said to her on the limo ride home three days ago.

“Gentlemen,” a maid poked her head in, “The ladies are ready for you in the foyer.”

 


 

Kikyou stood there, draped in fox fur and blindingly, dazzlingly covered in white diamonds from head to toe. Every inch the goddess.

Kagome had thrown a little lip gloss, a few twenties in cash (for tipping doormen, naturally), and, inexplicably, one of her dime-novel paperbacks into a white oversized clutch (one of Kikyou’s hand-me-downs). “Shit,” she swore, heading quickly back down the hallway to her room, “I forgot my phone.”

She had texted Inuyasha when they started getting ready and got the same error message. Trying not to let it bother her, she had immediately gotten swept into hair and makeup. It was strange, though, wasn’t it? Not to have talked once since she’d left his house wearing someone else’s clothes with the scent of his shampoo in her hair?

With a quick glance in her tiny bedroom mirror, she grabbed the phone off her dresser and rushed back toward the living room.

And there he stood, with Miroku, being helped into his slate-colored dinner jacket by a very eager and excited looking young housemaid. He shot the housemaid a playful wink (to which the girl might nearly have fainted; she very definitely stumbled on her way back out of the room).

“Kagome,” Kikyou whined impatiently, “quit dawdling and let’s go.”

The two men looked up at that, and Kagome let herself briefly meet Inuyasha’s eyes before rushing ahead of Kikyou to open the front door.

 


 

After the Higurashi sisters had exited the house toward the waiting limo, Miroku was able to turn to Inuyasha.

“Close your goddamn mouth, Takahashi,” he hissed, sweating now more than ever, “You’re going to give yourself away.”

 


 

“Good evening, everyone at home! We’re back with the red carpet premiere of ‘The Red Robe,’ a film that is generating serious Oscar buzz this year! We’ve seen some amazing red carpet fashion tonight, especially Ayame’s fabulous dress that we’re flashing up on the screen for you all to view. And now, I’m glad to say, the moment has arrived! Here they are, moviegoers! Your ‘It Couple,’ together again!”

Inuyasha and Kikyou walked arm in arm, waving to the crowds with huge, winning smiles on their faces. In front of them, Kagome walked side-by-side with Miroku, both hands on her white clutch. She tried to keep a smile on her face and walk demurely with her gaze fixed on the red carpet in front of her.

“Wave, Kagome,” Miroku mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, “You’re not an assistant tonight.”

At the prompt, Kagome raised a tentative hand and tried not to have a seizure from the ever-repeating flash of cameras and the roar of the crowd (though she was pretty sure their cheers were not for her, but the couple behind her).

“Good,” Miroku said, smile pasted on his face, “Now get over there. Yura Kaminoke is calling you over for an interview.”

“Me?” Kagome said sharply, then remembered herself and waved even more emphatically.

“Okay, cool it on the waving, you look like an inflatable tube man. And yes, you. Go.”

He gave her a gentle shove at the small of her back, and she quickly walked up to Yura, whose grip on the microphone must have been amazing because Yura practically threw it in her face. Kagome just kept her smile pasted on and shot a glance back at Inuyasha and Kikyou, who had paused in their journey down the red carpet to sign a few autographs and pose for photos with screaming fans.

“I understand you’re Kikyou Higurashi’s younger sister!” Yura had apparently been sent a nice little blurb about her ahead of time; Kagome probably had Sango to thank for that.

“I am indeed,” Kagome said, fighting to keep her nerves under control and her voice steady, but dammit it was a little difficult when you knew you were broadcasting to thousands if not hundreds of thousands of people worldwide.

“You’ve made quite the splash lately! Just bursting on the scene all of a sudden! You’re gorgeous, by the way. You look a bit like your sister!”

Just look for me in all the rejected press photos of Kikyou with my arm still in the shot rearranging her dress, Kagome thought but mercifully didn’t say.

“Thank you very much,” was all she could muster.

“And who are you wearing tonight?” Yura asked, and the camera panned up and down Kagome’s body. Oh, right, the fashion shot.

“Versace,” Kagome said, her hand holding up the skirt of the emerald green gown, “and the shoes are vintage.” That was Kagome’s key word for ‘I don’t actually remember where I got these shoes and there’s no label, so there.’”

“Beautiful! Just beautiful!” Yura said, though Kagome caught her surreptitiously glancing at Kikyou and Inuyasha, who were approaching ever closer as they made their way from brief interview to interview, “It’s wonderful to see you here supporting your big sister on her big night! Have you seen the film?”

“No, I haven’t,” Kagome said, “I’m excited to!” She would have rolled her own eyes at the answer if Kikyou had given it but she was just ready for this moment to be over.

“You made your red carpet debut at the Hollywood Film Awards last week, didn’t you?”

“I did, yes.”

“You went as Kouga Okami’s date. How do you two know each other? Oh, through your sister, of course. Did she introduce you? Are you seeing each other?”

“No,” Kagome fought the blush, “Just friends.”

“Well, have a great time tonight! Thanks for stopping!” And it was over.

Three stunted, halting interviews later, Kagome was at the end of the red carpet. Not many reporters wanted to talk to her unless it was to tell her how much like a teenaged Kikyou she looked (gag) or to ask her about Kouga (awkward).

Miroku was there, waiting to collect her. He offered his arm and she took it. “These damn heels,” she muttered under her breath, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to them.”

“You just gotta practice,” Miroku said, “Like tonight was practice. You did a pretty good job, kid. A lot of one word answers, but it’s not like the questions were any good either.”

“The things I’ll go through to get my sister an Oscar,” Kagome mumbled. She gazed down the red carpet, where Yura Kaminoke was obviously fighting to keep Kikyou and Inuyasha talking to her and not moving on, while Inuyasha was gently trying to lead Kikyou away.

“Hang on a sec,” Miroku said, and like an absolute boss he walked over to them and threw an arm around Inuyasha’s shoulders like he was saying something super important, leading him and Kikyou away just long enough to reach the next news reporter clamoring for their attention. Once they were situated with the new interviewer, Miroku shoved his hands in his suit pockets and meandered back to where Kagome was standing just inside the doors.

“I’ve seen you do that a million times,” Kagome said, “and it’s still impressive.”

“Take notes, babe. Now, why don’t you go inside and grab a seat? Should be easy to find, since your name’s officially on the door now.”

Kagome nodded and went into the theatre lobby, where ushers were waiting to escort her to the usual opera box.

Miroku was right. Her name was on the door this time.

Chapter 25: Ohhhh The Cringe

Summary:

In which Inuyasha has to hate-watch his own movie, Kagome is an angel bearing gifts of heavy metal music, and Sango gets a raise with a heaping side of sexual harassment.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ohhhh The Cringe

 

Man, Miroku wasn’t kidding when he said this movie was a mess , Kagome thought.

Sure, it was visually beautiful and had some lovely slow-motion battle sequences a la ‘300’ or ‘Gladiator’, but this movie was slooooow . The entire runtime was around three hours and change, and Kagome realized, glancing at her phone from where she sat in the row behind Inuyasha and Kikyou, that the movie wasn’t even a third done and she was already restless.

Inuyasha seemed to be feeling the same way from what she could see; at least, if she counted the number of times he exasperatedly ran his hand over his eyes or looked away with a small cringe, he knew the movie itself wasn’t great either.

They had almost, almost had a second to talk, when Kagome had been sitting alone in the opera box nursing her favorite draft beer and trying not to spill any on her green Versace gown. Inuyasha had come into the box first, sweeping past the curtain as if he’d been in a hurry. Kagome had stood up (almost spilling that damn beer), they’d looked at each other…

And then Miroku ducked inside under Inuyasha’s outstretched arm, drinks in hand, shooting both of them a warning look, to which they’d reluctantly taken their seats without a word.

Now that he was sitting there with Kikyou leaning on his arm, both of them drinking champagne in ‘celebration,’ Inuyasha seemed to be taking extra pains not to turn back and look at Kagome. Probably for the best, because what could they say right now? All she wanted to do was run and jump into his arms and have him tell her that their single night wasn’t just an impulsive action, wasn’t some sort of weird display of pity or friendship…

She’d texted him a joke when the movie started, something about Naraku’s incredibly idiotic period hairstyle (he was playing one of the other gladiators and was nearly unrecognizable behind a ton of scars and an unidentifiable accent that sounded weirdly Irish), because she’d noticed how Inuyasha had squirmed uncomfortably when first seeing his former rival pop up on screen. He must have gotten it by now, but even when he checked his phone for the time, he didn’t bother replying to her. Shame , she thought, a good text conversation would certainly liven this whole thing up a bit for me.

Oh, god, it was Kikyou’s big bellydance scene. Flashbacks of accompanying her sister to every dance class and being forced to participate so Kikyou would feel like she was doing better flashed through her head. There had been three months of the torture. Kagome was still no damn good at it.

Slowly, Kagome reached into her clutch and pulled her bluetooth headphones out of their slot in her phone case, and with a good stretching fakeout she slipped them over the backs of her ears without Miroku noticing (he would have probably elbowed her in the ribs and told her to cut it out and be respectful). In the guise of reaching for her beer on the small oak table, she pulled up her phone’s music app with the phone still safely in her clutch so as not to let any light out from the screen.

Sitting back, she tried not to giggle. Watching Kikyou bellydance to “Hell Bent for Leather” was infinitely more entertaining.

 


 

The cringe. Ohhh, the cringe.

Every waking second of this movie was bringing back horrible memories for Inuyasha, and the girl responsible for most of said horrible memories was currently clinging onto his left arm like it was a teddy bear.

I want to die.

God, this movie was so long, he thought, pulling up his phone to check the time. He thought to perhaps text Kagome something snarky, but decided against it since Kikyou might see, and he didn’t need the headache of Kikyou trying to demand his attention even more.

She would occasionally lean in close to his ear and whisper something, a compliment about how hot he looked in his armor, or an “oh, remember that scene” or the like. The truth was, he remembered too well.

“Cut!” Myoga cried.

 “Good take, Inuyasha, let’s get everything reset. One hour for reset, people! Take a break, everybody else.” The assistant director patted him on the shoulder as he passed.

Inuyasha sighed, allowing the costume people to take his armor off of him so he could breathe a little better in the scorching desert sun. The armor had fake blood splashed all over it from the squib he’d hit on the stunt guy, so the seamstress and her assistants needed to grab him a new breastplate.

He half-walked, half-stumbled to the craft services tent, still a little out of breath from the action scene’s choreography. He was in the best shape of his life but the weight of that armor was like carrying a small adult woman on his shoulders at any given time.

“Here.”

Kagome, wearing a black Metallica tank top and denim shorts, her hair in twin braids that hung to her shoulders, was handing him a bottle of water. “You look like you’ve been in a battle all right,” she said through a mouthful of potato chips. Her shoulders and cheeks were red from the sun, her hair fighting to frizz its way out of the braids. She gave him an easygoing smile.

“I feel like hammered shit,” Inuyasha confessed, grabbing a seat in front of the merciful electric fan.

“It’s okay,” Kagome said, sitting beside him and crossing her legs, her black sneakers covered in sand and dirt and mud and who knows what else, “You’ll get through it. You always do. It’s not your fault it’s so damn hot today.”

“Kikyou’s almost lucky she’s sick. I couldn’t see her sitting out here in this.”

Kagome laughed. “You don’t have to answer her every demand. I swear, when she’s sick she gets worse. She either wants me by her side every waking minute or she orders me out of the trailer because, as she says, my cheerfulness makes her want to vomit. So I’m banned for a few hours.” She pulled her phone out and began scrolling through emails.

Inuyasha folded his arms behind his head and leaned back, letting the fan blow somewhat-cool air across his face. “You’re sunburned,” he said, eyes closed.

“I know,” Kagome said, “Sunburned, windburned, you name it. Plus I’ve got sand in places I didn’t even know existed. Why do they call this business glamorous again?”

“Because at the end of it all we get paid lots of money and can buy jet skis and shit.” Inuyasha smirked, his eyes still closed. He heard her chuckle.

Kagome’s phone buzzed. “Oh,” Kagome said, moving to get up, “Her Highness wants some tea.” 

“Wait,” Inuyasha held out a hand and sat up straight, “Let me take it to her. I haven’t seen her since last night, and hell, I’ve got an hour to kill…”

“Say no more,” Kagome said quickly, filling a styrofoam cup with hot water and dropping a bag of black tea into it with a lemon, then holding out to him, “Your sickly dream girl awaits.” She sat back as he took the cup of tea, pulled her sunglasses over her eyes, and returned to her phone without a word.

On his way to the lavish trailer he shared with Kikyou, he passed the guy playing one of the other gladiators - Naruki, was that his name? - who promptly shoulder-checked him.

“What the hell?” Inuyasha scrambled to keep the tea from spilling all over the sand and glared over his shoulder at the man with the oversized bodybuilder physique, who just muttered an “Oh shit, sorry bro” and continued walking.

“Kikyou?” he said, entering the trailer.

She was sitting there, clutching a box of tissues and sniffling miserably. She looked a little surprised to see him. “Inuyasha,” she said, then gave a few delicate quiet coughs.

“How are you feeling?” He put the tea on the vanity and looped his arms around her neck, kissing her cheek.

“Oh, just terrible,” she said, “I doubt if I’ll be able to shoot tomorrow. You’ll have to go on without me.”

She certainly did look flushed. Poor thing probably had a hell of a fever.

“Well, I just came to bring you tea and tell you to get to feeling better because we all miss you on set.” Inuyasha was well aware that he was stretching the truth of that a bit; the atmosphere without Kikyou had been much smoother sailing, but hey, she’d been feeling so sick lately, of course she was bound to be a little snappish and angry at times. That was just Kikyou.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching for the tea and then leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

“I love you,” he said, dropping a trail of kisses from her neck to her shoulder.

“I love you too, honey.”

The memory was poisoned with what Inuyasha knew now.

That she hadn’t been sick at all, just avoiding him.

That that flush all over her skin had nothing to do with having a fever.

He glanced down at Kikyou out of the corner of his eye. She was so good at pretending nothing had happened, that she hadn’t betrayed him in the basest way possible, that she hadn’t immediately thrown him out of the mansion they’d custom-built together when he’d found her out. Here she sat, continually forcing him to hold her hand, as she watched herself on film, clearly enraptured with her own performance.

“Kagome,” Kikyou whispered over her shoulder, not quite turning around, “I need some more champagne please.” She held aloft her empty glass while smiling at Inuyasha dreamily.

There was no answer. 

Both Kikyou and Inuyasha maneuvered in their seats to crane their necks to look behind them.

Kagome was sitting back in her seat, legs stretched out in front of her, eyes on the screen, in the middle of a very sizable gulp of her beer, with her head bobbing up and down in a constant beat. She didn’t seem to notice that she had everyone’s attention until about ten seconds later, and she immediately ran her hand over her left ear. “Sorry, did you need something?” she said to both of them, a blush rising over her face.

Inuyasha was sure only he caught the glint of a small bluetooth headphone in her closed fist. Is she listening to music? He fought back the rising laugh into merely a smirk and raised his eyebrow at her.

“I said I need some more champagne.” Kikyou was talking as if maybe Kagome had brain damage and needed words spoken very, very slowly.

“I think we all do,” Miroku said, “Come on, Kagome.”

Inuyasha, eager to get out of this theatre for a minute, made to stand up. “Here, I’ll help her.”

Miroku shot him a piercing look that said “Sit your ass down.” All he said was, “No, no, you two are the stars. We’ll take care of it.”

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes and eased back into his seat with a scoff. Kagome had already bolted out of the opera box.

 


 

“Miss Ryoshi, can I have a word with you?”

Sango looked up from her exhausted perch on the bar counter, a glass of straight rum in her hand, ready to tell off whoever was interrupting her one moment of peace the entire night.

It was Randall Warner. 

Sango immediately sat upright. “Mr. Warner, sir, what can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to let you know what a fantastic job you’ve done the last few weeks,” he said, a congenial smile on his face. He slid up and took the seat next to her.

“Th-thank you, sir. I’ve done my best.”

“I know you have,” Warner said, raising a hand to the bartender, who immediately turned and started making what must be his usual, “And I want you to know that all the Academy insiders I’ve talked to are very amenable to the idea of multiple acting noms this year. Of course, they can’t confirm anything to me directly, but…” He took his drink and raised it in a toast.

“So the nominations are a lock, is what you’re telling me,” Sango said.

“I didn’t say that,” Warner said, but the gleeful smile on his face told her that he was saying exactly that, “Your running of the ‘Red Robe’ campaign has been nothing if not masterful, especially for a girl with your level of...experience.”

“I appreciate that, sir. Now I just need to keep the speculation going about Kikyou and Inuyasha and really up the emphasis that a dual win between them would be a fantastic Hollywood success story. Redemption, love conquers all, King and Queen of Hollywood, all that jazz.” Sango realized that she was starting to ramble out loud and fell silent.

Warner gave a small chuckle and held his glass aloft. “You really are quite the find,” he said, “I always imagined Houshi simply hired you for your looks. Such a womanizer, that one.”

Sango felt a small stab of anger. “He actually hired me over the phone. He didn’t even get a look at me until I showed up for my first day of work.” Am I actually defending Houshi to the one man who hates his guts more than anyone? Brilliant way to kiss up to the boss, Sango.

“Well, we’re lucky to have you on board, Miss Ryoshi. Please keep me updated on everything. I like to be kept in the loop. Also, you’ll hear from payroll; I’m raising your salary. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

As he was leaving, he put a meaty hand on her shoulder and squeezed once. Sango immediately wanted to douse herself with water, but she couldn’t. This dress was Gucci , for god’s sake. The news of the money wasn’t awful, though. God knows she needed it.

“Sango, it’s me. Another bad night. We just heard that he needs another-”

“Oh, one more thing,” Warner said into her ear, and she avoided the urge to use a well-positioned elbow to his gut to make him step off the train of her gown, “I know you’re having to work very closely with Miroku Houshi for this. It’s unavoidable, since he somehow managed to con his way into being Inuyasha’s new agent. Just trust me when I say that after the Oscars, it’s probably best not to be seen with him anymore. Inuyasha will have to find new representation if he ever wants to work with this studio again. And with your career so on the rise, it would be unwise to be associated with someone like that.”

With a final meaningful look, he was gone. Sango drained her glass and slumped forward onto the bar. “One more,” she said, holding the glass out to the bartender.

“Sango?”

Ugh, now what. She turned.

It was Kagome, decked out in a gorgeous green gown, her hair curled and arranged to one side. She was looking at Sango with such genuine sympathy.

“Oh, hey,” Sango said, giving a small wave and taking her new drink from the bartender.

“Are...are you okay?” Kagome came up and dropped both elbows on the counter. This girl looked like she was willing to spend all the time in the world talking through Sango’s problems and trying to make her feel better, even if it took all night. Sango, for her part, was a little grateful, but she would rather vomit.

“I’m fine. Enjoying the movie?”

Kagome looked unsure of how to answer that, and that was when Miroku appeared behind her.

“Sango?” Okay, why did everyone have that same hangdog look on her face when talking to her now?

“Sup, Houshi,” Sango said, sipping her drink and choosing not to look him in the eye anymore.

He seemed to take the hint and busied himself ordering champagne for four. Kagome was still looking at Sango, those big blue eyes shining. 

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Kagome tried again, laying a hand on Sango’s arm. 

“I’m fine ,” Sango said, making sure to flash her an easygoing smile, “Just a long day. I’m sure you understand.”

Kagome still looked unsure but seemed to understand that whatever it was, Sango didn’t want to talk about it. Thanks, Girl Scout, I owe you one.

The bartender brought four flutes of champagne and Kagome and Miroku took two each. Kagome went immediately back upstairs to the balcony boxes with a quick, “See you later,” to Sango. Miroku stayed behind.

“Nice dress.” He seemed to be struggling for anything else to say.

Sango let herself meet his eyes then. “Thanks.”

“Now tell me what’s really going on.” 

“I got a raise,” she said, forcing a smile on her face, “Warner’s really happy with the job I’ve done.”

Miroku frowned for a moment, then shrugged. “That’s...good, right?”

“I thought it would feel better than this.”

“Sudden attack of conscience?”

And there it was. He could always say just the right thing to piss her off. “No. Better get that champagne back to your buddies, Houshi. It’ll get flat.”

As she stood to stride away purposefully, he called after her, sounding younger and more lost than she’d ever heard him before. “Will I see you at the afterparty?”

“Of course you will,” she all but snapped, “I put the damn thing together. Later, Houshi.”

 


 

“I swear I don’t know what’s going on with that girl lately,” Kikyou whispered with a small shake of her head, “She’s getting all her work done, but that attitude, I swear. It’s unbearable.”

“It’s not like you’re easy to deal with,” Inuyasha said shortly, watching yet another battle scene unfold on the screen. 

At this, Kikyou seemed to fall silent for a moment, then she looped her arm back around his and leaned seductively into his chest. He could smell her shampoo and perfume. “I remember when you didn’t seem to mind,” she whispered into his left ear. He really wished she would stop doing that. It was driving the memory portion of his brain almost insane with effort.

“Stop that,” he muttered, trying to pull out of her grip.

“Stop what?” Kikyou looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. That look used to be all it took. Now he just wanted out of here.

“I mean it, Kikyou, cut it out.” He managed to wiggle free of her grasp and folded his arms across his chest, casually leaning away from her.

She gave a mewling little whine and sat back in her seat, crossing her arms and pouting a little. He blew a strand of silver hair out of his face and just tried to focus on watching the damn movie.

It was hard. This movie was weird. And not in a good way. In an awkward, incompetent way.

“Champagne?” Kagome appeared between his and Kikyou’s shoulders, holding two glasses out. Kikyou took hers without a word or even an acknowledgment.

“Thanks,” Inuyasha said, and their eyes met. He wanted to do so many things at that moment and most of them involved whisking Kagome out of the room and finding a private place where they could talk, kiss, whatever else…

He reached out to take the champagne and Kagome’s hand closed around his for a brief moment. Immediately, Inuyasha’s eyes lit up with realization and he fought the urge to grin at her like an idiot. That wouldn’t do; Kikyou was watching.

Kagome winked without changing her expression and went back to sit down. Inuyasha’s gaze trailed down to Miroku, who had just stepped back through the curtain with the two other champagne glasses, was looking at both of them very suspiciously but obviously not suspiciously enough to try and intervene. Well, he could go fuck himself. Inuyasha would play this little game for golden statues, but there was no way to pretend he wasn’t smitten with the little five foot three angel in green sitting just behind him. He would have had to been made of stone.

Casually, Inuyasha put a hand to his right ear, the one safely facing away from Kikyou, and attached the bluetooth speaker.

Ah, Kagome was playing him some Black Sabbath. Nice.

 


 

At long last, it was over. There was uproarious applause, and Kagome immediately fished the remaining earbud out of her ear. Did we all watch the same movie? It sounds like everyone just loved it.

Then she remembered what it represented. Everyone, the viewing public and reviewers alike, had thought this film would be the last time Kikyou and Inuyasha were paired together onscreen. Now that Miroku and all the lovely studio minions were teasing a reunion, what self-respecting ‘Kikyasha’ fan wouldn’t want to love the hell out of this movie for all its flaws?

Inuyasha, well, what she could see of him from the back of his head, also seemed a little bewildered at the response. Kikyou seemed to be loving it.

“Come on, honey,” Kikyou said, pulling on Inuyasha’s arm to make him stand up, “We’ve got to get to the afterparty!”

Inuyasha grumbled something unintelligible and stood up begrudgingly. As he and Kikyou passed, Kikyou with her arm looped around his, he reached over to the table as if to set down his champagne glass and slipped the earbud into Kagome’s open clutch on her lap.

Before she could even look up to meet his eyes, they were gone, behind the velvet curtain.

“Alright, kid,” Miroku said, draining the last of his champagne and throwing on his dinner jacket, “Time to go change Kikyou into her afterparty dress. Did you buy one?”

“No.”

“Well, that thing you’re wearing will do just fine, I suppose. Probably shouldn’t dance in it though.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Kagome said, resisting the urge to self-consciously run a hand through her immaculately styled hair. This dress had been twelve thousand dollars . Sure, she had a millionaire sister who actually did pay her a decent salary, one that she hardly ever got the chance to spend, but the idea of purchasing yet another dress of that price for one evening? This whole red carpet thing was just bonkers if you weren’t paid $20 million a movie (or famous enough where the designers would just give you the clothes, a la her elder sister).

She just hoped at some point she might get a chance to talk to Inuyasha. Even for five minutes. Even for a second.

But experience had warned her about being hopeful.

Chapter 26: His Little Side Project

Summary:

In which pretty much everyone is getting way too drunk, Kagome is the recipient of not one but TWO romantic gifts that cause a bit of confusion, and Kouga pops up to make everything even messier.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-Six

His Little Side Project

 

“Kagooooome!”

Ah, there it was. The sound of her life.

Kagome looked up from her book from her perch on the chaise lounge in the hotel suite’s dressing room. The entire top floor had been rented for Kikyou, Inuyasha, and their respective entourages, though the hotel staff hadn’t seemed to realize that Inuyasha’s entourage consisted of just one Miroku Houshi.

“Yeah?” she said, looking over to where Kikyou was being helped out of the long, capelike white Versace and changing into a much shorter, body-conforming white dress (also Versace of course) with almost sashlike red accents running from one shoulder and ending at the waist. A ‘red robe.’ Very subtle, sister darling.

“I need some more champagne.” Kikyou’s words were slightly muffled as she blotted her reapplied red lipstick on a tissue.

“Right now?” Kagome said skeptica lly, “You’ve had three glasses already. Don’t you think you should slow down?”

Kikyou pouted and waved the makeup girl away with a swatting motion. The girl with the rainbow hair immediately jumped back. “Kagomeeee,” Kikyou said sweetly, “I want another one. This is my night, isn’t it?”

Kagome went to pick up the phone and call the front desk.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. With a sigh, Kagome put the phone back in the receiver and answered it. Never a moment’s rest on premiere nights.

There stood a starstruck-looking group of bellhops with their heads poking through what looked like a forest of flower bouquets, all different colors but mostly red. “Deliveries for Miss Kikyou Higurashi,” the young man in front stammered.

“Come on in,” Kagome said, holding the door fully open. The bellhops streamed in, each of them with arms full of flowers.

Wow, ten in a row. Might be a new record.

“Uh, where should we…” The lead bellhop was staring at Kikyou, who still sat in the makeup chair. She smiled and flashed him a flirtatious wink and the young man flushed beet red. 

“Over here,” Kagome said quietly, “On the coffee table is fine. If they don’t fit, just find a surface and stick them there. We’ll figure it all out later.”

The hotel employees immediately set about arranging the flowers and (Kagome noted) quite a few expensive-looking bags of gifts all over the back corner of the suite. Kikyou certainly had her share of friends in the industry, eager to make it known that they supported her.

“Let me see the bags,” Kikyou said, holding still for the makeup artist to add smidges of red eyeliner on top of the black already applied. Kagome, nearly tripping on the hem of her dress and falling headfirst into the field of roses, reached amongst the pile and pulled out the two bags she could get to.

“Here,” she said, holding them out to Kikyou.

“Open them up, silly!”

Kagome sighed and opened the first bag, pulling out the card to read it. “It’s from Randall Warner,” she said, “‘All my love to our fantastic star of stars. Love, Randy.’”

“How sweet,” Kikyou said complacently, “What is it?”

Kagome pulled out a black velvet box. “I think it’s a bracelet.” She opened it. It was. Solid diamonds. 

“Gorgeous!” Kikyou said, “Here, put it on me. I’ll wear it to the afterparty.”

“Hell,” Kagome said with a smirk as she fastened the clasp, “Wear it forever. It’ll keep you safe when you’re jogging at night.”

“Very funny,” Kikyou sniffed. “What about the next one?”

“Begging your pardon, Miss Higurashi,” the lead bellhop said hesitantly. One of the young men behind him was still holding an armful of flowers.

“Just put them on the floor,” Kagome started to say, then realized the lead bellhop was holding what looked like a...dress bag? With Versace written on it?

“These here are for a Miss Kagome Higurashi,” the bellhop read off the card, “Is that her cousin, or what?”

“I’m Kagome Higurashi,” Kagome said softly, her brow furrowed, “I’m her sister.”

“How cute,” Kikyou said in her singsong voice, “You got a few flowers too. I guess you’ve got a few admirers among the teenybopper set.”

Trying to ignore her, Kagome reached out and took the black dress bag. There was a card attached. The message was typed and unsigned.

“Got you this as an apology. Took a wild guess and figured black was your color.”

With trembling hands, Kagome unzipped the bag.

Black leather, knee-length with fringe, strapless, and covered in a diagonal spray of... oh my god are those METAL STUDS? It was gorgeous, sexy, flattering, and heavy metal as hell. Completely her style and much more comfortable than the (admittedly amazing) green Gucci dress she was wearing. 

He had gotten her an afterparty dress. So she wouldn’t keep tripping and falling in the ballroom.

Fighting back the traitorous lump in her throat, Kagome looked up at the bellhop, who held three bouquets of roses, two pink and one red. “Where would you like these, Miss Higurashi?”

“Um,” Kagome stammered, “put them in my room. Third door on the right. Thank you so much.” She fished in her purse for twenties and gave one each to the bellhops as tips.

“What on earth is that? ” Kikyou said, making Kagome turn and hold up the dress, “Ugh. Of course you’d order something that looks like a motorcyclist’s old lady. Whatever happened to class , Kagome?”

“I like it,” Kagome said softly, holding it to her chest. She didn’t feel like saying the dress was sent to her. Too much to explain.

“Whatever. Get changed. I’m sure Inuyasha’s waiting for me.”

Kagome said nothing and sidled to her room to dress. On the bedside table there were the three bouquets of roses. Struggling to unzip her dress, she finally managed it and sat on the bed in her underwear, reaching for the cards in the roses.

The two pink bouquets were simple enough. One each from Miroku and from Sunrise Studios (so Sango, really). Both said the same thing to the effect of “Well done, kid. Keep playing ball, please, so we can get our Oscars. Love you etc etc.”

The red one was handwritten and she recognized Inuyasha’s messy scrawl. “To Kiddo, from Jerkface. Thanks for putting up with all the bullshit. All my love. Inuyasha.”

She fought the urge to smirk at the familiar nickname and was instead bewildered. She supposed that perhaps he’d arranged the dress delivery under more surreptitious circumstances, so of course he would have to play coy with the gift he’d actually attached his name to. The worldwide press were no doubt watching. Still, why two gifts?

Kagome shrugged and decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth as she pulled on the good grief absolutely fantastic afterparty dress and fought the urge to run down the hall and thank him personally. After all, they were all being watched like hawks.

 


 

“Miroku, maybe you oughta slow down on the drinks, man.”

“Fuck off.”

“Ah,” Inuyasha said sagely, brushing out his long hair without a backward glance, “Sounds like you ran into Sango at some point. What even happened there? Honestly, you two were so lovey-dovey and trying to hide it that it was almost enough to make me believe you have a human heart under there.”

“You’re one to fucking talk. Trying to flirt with Kagome in front of Kikyou . Are you insane or just wanting to torpedo your career in one fell swoop?”

“Don’t turn this back around on me. What happened with Sango?”

“Nothing I can’t fix. I said some things I shouldn’t have and she got a little angry.”

You? Saying things you shouldn’t say? No fucking way.” Inuyasha snorted.

“I’ve already apologized but she seems to want nothing to do with me.” Miroku drained his gin and tonic and went to refill it.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Inuyasha said, tossing his jacket over his shoulder, “I have to go out there and act all lovey-dovey with a woman that is trying her goddamn best to drag me into hell with her, while her sister who I like a hell of a lot better looks on. I think I win on the miserable scale. And before you even fucking say the Oscar will be worth it, I think I’ll reserve judgment on that one until afterward.”

“Fair enough,” Miroku said, raking his fingers over his own face, “Just please don’t cause any scenes with Kagome in public tonight. The last thing we need is Kikyou hopping mad and Sango even more mad.”

Inuyasha said nothing for a moment. Then, “You said ‘in public,’ right?”

Miroku choked mid-drink. “Wait a second, Inuyasha, I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no .”

Inuyasha kind of relished the astonished look on his agent’s face. “Too late, buddy.”

“What. Did. You. Do.” Miroku was looking flabbergasted and furious and terrified all at once. This was a beautiful feeling. 

“Nothing like what you’re thinking,” Inuyasha said calmly, unable to help the smirk on his face, “I just sent Kagome a present. Left it via anonymous delivery at the front desk. She’s probably getting it right about now.”

“What did you send her?” Miroku collapsed into a chair.

“Just a bouquet of flowers. Roses. I didn’t write anything obscene on the card. You’re welcome.”

“You fucking people,” Miroku said, lighting a cigarette, “You sure don’t make it easy, do you?”

Inuyasha smirked. “If I did, you wouldn’t have much of a job, would you?”

Miroku, from his seated position, leaned forward on his elbows and buried his face in his hands. “I did this,” he grumbled, “I pushed you two together and now it’s a huge fucking mess.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Inuyasha shot back, “This would have happened regardless. And quit talking like this is some sort of catastrophe that will ruin all your evil plans. I told you I’d play the game and I’m still going to play it for the cameras. But you can’t run all of me, Houshi.”

“Ugh,” was all Miroku said through his hands.

“If you don’t like it, walk.” Inuyasha was deadly serious and knew his voice was making that clear. “You’re my friend, Miroku. So be my fucking friend instead of my bloodsucking agent for once.”

Silence for a moment.

“You sure you’re not rushing all this? I mean, you’re reunited with the girl a month ago and now you’re just over the moon? No thought to what Kagome wants, no thought that maybe all this press attention isn’t the best right now. Not to mention the complications of who her sister happens to be-”

Before Inuyasha could formulate a response, the hotel room phone rang.

With a sigh, Miroku went to answer it.

“Takahashi suite,” he said casually, then without a word handed the phone to Inuyasha. “It’s for you. I’m out of here for now. See you at the party.”

Inuyasha, the phone in his hand, watched him leave, then spoke into the receiver.

“Yeah?”

“Hi, honey.” 

Inuyasha felt his stomach tie up in knots at that stupid familiar term of endearment. “What do you want, Kikyou?”

“Do I need an excuse to talk to you? I just missed you.”

“Kikyou. Hurry up, I’m busy.” It was a lie, he’d finished freshening up, but still.

“Okay, okay, so demanding! I’ve got a whole tray of champagne and strawberries in my suite and no one to help me finish it all. Come on over.”

“Not much of a champagne guy, myself. Have Kagome help you.” 

“I managed to get her out of the dressing room for a few minutes while she changes for the afterparty.” Kikyou’s tone was a low purr. “The rest of my entourage isn’t here either. I’m all by my lonesome.”

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what, brushing your hair? Come overrrrr.” The last word was drawn out in a childish whine. “Or I’ll come over there, if you prefer. I remember how you used to like my opinion when I was watching you get dressed for a party.”

“No!” Inuyasha said, “I’ll come to you. Just gimme a second.”

“Wait til you see my dress. It’s killer. See you soon, honey.”

Inuyasha sighed and hung up the phone.

 


 

“Hello?” Kagome said, struggling into the black minidress with her phone cradled on her shoulder.

It was Sango. “Where are you guys?” she said, sounding a little distracted, “The press is nipping at my fucking ankles. Tell me you’re getting here soon.”

“Soon enough,” Kagome said, pulling a strap of the dress onto her shoulder, “One thing you should know about Kikyou. Full wardrobe change before an afterparty, especially during awards season.”

“Of course,” Sango said, her tone even, “Is Inuyasha ready to go?” The last sentence had a hint of what Kagome would have mistaken for venom if she didn’t know better.

“I’m not sure,” Kagome said.

“Alright. Well, get here as soon as you can. This crowd is getting more rabid. I don’t want a mob situation on my hands.” And Sango hung up without saying goodbye.

With a shrug, Kagome tossed her phone onto the bed and worked to zip up her dress. Sango was obviously having a tough time of it lately and she knew she shouldn’t take anything personally.

Kagome looked herself over in the mirror for the second time tonight. With apparently no time to consider it, she contented herself with a sarcastic finger-gun to her own reflection, then left her room quickly and headed down the hall back to Kikyou’s dressing room.

The hair and makeup girls were waiting outside, their hands folded in front of them like the loyal servants they were playing at.

“Is she ready?” Kagome said, a little confused.

They nodded, looking at each other shiftily.

Kagome opened the door.

Oh.

Kikyou stood there, helping Inuyasha into his jacket, running her hands over his shoulders. Kagome couldn’t see Inuyasha’s face, as he was turned toward Kikyou and murmuring something unintelligible. His hand was closed over one of Kikyou’s wrists. They both held glasses of champagne. The tray of strawberries was nibbled on, but not much.

Kagome couldn’t resist. She folded her arms and cleared her throat. “Ready to go?”

Inuyasha flinched like he’d been stuck with a thumbtack and turned to look at her. She immediately busied herself moving an array of flower arrangements a little further back on the coffee table.

“Nice dress,” he said, his voice genuinely appreciative, and Kagome didn’t reply. This was all a bit too much. Like he hadn’t sent it to her. An actor through and through. 

“I told her it was a bit much,” Kikyou said, throwing her wrap back on and linking her arm with Inuyasha’s, “It’s almost like she wants the attention of the drooling masses for once. I wonder why?”

“I think we should take the private elevator down,” Kagome said quickly, suddenly feeling much more self-conscious in a dress that she had loved not twenty minutes ago, “There’s bound to be press in the lobby. Follow me.”

 


 

Miroku walked into the hotel ballroom, which had been expertly converted (no doubt thanks to the genius of Sango) into a bustling, darkened room full of cast and crew members, all celebrating their apparent (and bewildering) success with the audience at the premiere.

But he didn’t give a shit about any of them. There was one person he wanted to talk to. Only one. And he found her near the back of the room, flanked by none other than Randall Warner and his wife Lana.

Of fucking course. Miroku decided this was the time to disappear among the ranks at the bar for a while until he could maybe, possibly get Sango on her own for a second.

And of course he found himself sitting next to Kouga Okami.

“Hey there, Houshi,” Kouga said genially, raising a glass of whatever swill he was surely drinking, “Where’s your boy?”

“He’ll be down soon. What’s it to you?” 

Kouga shrugged. “I’m not really worried about Takahashi. There’s someone else I need to talk to.”

Miroku ordered a black rum to change it up a bit and turned to Kouga with a bemused look. “Who the hell would that be? Kagome? Don’t tell me your little stunt ended up with you growing a heart, Okami. It would kill your reputation.”

“Listen,” Kouga said, fist clenching around his drink, “Nothing’s ever gotten to me before. None of the partying, none of the women, none of the bullshit. She’s different. She’s a sweetheart. I need to square things up with her. For real this time.”

“That’s just precious,” Miroku felt himself getting nasty, “Get her purposely drunk and publicly embarrassed in return for a Spielberg movie. I’m sure she’ll understand. Classic boy meets girl. Go get her, kid.”

“I’m not pretending I’m not a game player,” Kouga said, “but I need to at least let her know that I meant what I said to her in the limo.”

“And what did you say to her in the limo?” Miroku couldn’t help it. Color him intrigued.

“Not that it’s your business, but I said I wanted to see her again.” Kouga drained his drink.

“Ah,” Miroku said, then sipped his drink. “So that would be why that little bombshell who was with you on the red carpet isn’t here right now.”

“Well, no,” Kouga said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “She’s here. She just had a few too many and is in the restroom throwing up.”

“And the party’s been going for all of an hour. Cute.” Miroku ran a hand through his hair. Kouga was nothing if not easy to figure out. Not much to him, was there?

“I don’t care what you think, Houshi,” Kouga said, seemingly sensing Miroku’s sarcasm and starting to square up on him. Lovely.

“You might get more than you bargained for if you try and approach Kagome here,” Miroku said, “That’s all I have to say.”

“Oh, what, Takahashi’s gonna get jealous again? Great. I don’t care. He’s finally about to get Kikyou back and he’s been a wreck over Kikyou for almost a year. So sorry if I swoop in and pick up his little side project.”

“Well,” said Miroku, “I wish you the best of luck. I doubt she’ll even give you the time of day, and why should she?”

There was a clamoring and a smattering of applause, which erupted into a full roar of the crowd. Both Kouga and Miroku craned their necks toward the ballroom entrance.

There stood Kikyou and Inuyasha, arm in arm, inclining their heads with grace and gratitude to the adoring crowd. Kagome had walked in before them and was already heading straight towards the bar. Towards where Miroku and Kouga were sitting.

“Because,” Kouga said, “I bought her that dress.”

Chapter 27: I'd Rather Drink Bleach

Summary:

In which Inuyasha has to deal with drunk Kikyou, Kagome has to deal with unwanted attention from Kouga, and someone finds out they've been betrayed.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I'd Rather Drink Bleach

 

“Oh, honey,” Kikyou said, snuggling a bit into Inuyasha’s shoulder as she waved to the applauding crowd of partygoers, “We’re back.

Inuyasha, busy doing the aw-shucks-gee-thanks bit with the crowd, didn’t reply. His brain felt like oatmeal right now. Just five minutes ago Kikyou had been in the middle of telling him how much she missed him, and then Kagome had walked in and all of that conversation had been washed away. Especially in that dress. If there were a more Kagome dress than something made of black leather fringe, he didn’t know what it could be. And she looked like a fucking model in it. Granted, no model was ever five foot three, but still. It was perfect, even better than the green gown she’d been wearing earlier. Would there ever be a time when she couldn’t surprise him? He hoped not.

“Inuyasha,” Kikyou was saying insistently.

“Huh?”

“Let’s go sit down,” Kikyou said, inclining her head to a table near the center of the room, “I want another drink.”

Inuyasha let himself be led to the table, his eyes on Kagome making a beeline for the bar. Miroku greeted her with a quick pat on the shoulder and beckoned her to sit down on his left.

Wait, was that Kouga sitting there on the other side?

 


 

“Scoot over,” Kagome said, sitting down.

“You look positively delicious , Kagome. That’s quite a dress. Was the last one not showing enough cleavage, or what?” 

“You think you’re being cute but you’re being patronizing. Where’s Sango?”

Miroku waved the bartender over and ordered her a beer. “Over there,” he finally said, taking a generous drink, “with the fucking Warners.”

“Ah,” Kagome said, needing no other explanation. She wanted to offer him sympathy, but she knew Miroku wasn’t the type for sentiment.

Her beer arrived and she took the bottle in her hand, wondering what to say. Then, from her left, someone tapped her on the elbow.

“Hey there, angel face.”

She knew who it was before even turning around. “Oh, hi, Kouga,” she said dryly, turning to face him. She felt Miroku get up and leave behind her. Thanks a lot, Satan.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Kouga said, “and I tried to at Nobu the other night but you didn’t want anyone watching. So now’s the perfect time, what with your sister and her boyfriend occupied elsewhere.”

Kagome felt a small stab of anger and protest rise in her chest, but merely said, “What do you want?”

“That’s what I like about you,” Kouga said, a suave grin crossing his face, “No bullshit. It’s refreshing in a city where everyone seems to want your blood or your money.”

“Maybe if you stopped trying to fuck every new starlet that arrives in town?” Kagome said, raising an eyebrow. She was still quite irritated with him for abandoning her at the HFA’s, and not a little pissed off about the whole body shot thing, but she couldn’t be mad for what the whole situation had led to. Her and Inuyasha. That was still a thing. It was. Wasn’t it?

Kagome cast a glance over to Kikyou and Inuyasha taking a seat at a center table and ordering drinks. Inuyasha was bent down as Kikyou whispered into his ear.

Wasn’t it?

Feeling a little dizzy and inwardly berating herself for overthinking things again, Kagome returned her attention to Kouga, who was apparently commenting on her dress from the way his eyes ran up and down her body. Well, her dress or something else, but she imagined it was the dress.

She took another sip of her beer.

“So?” Kouga said, “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

“For what?”

“I mean, you don’t have to thank me. Just seeing you in it is enough. But I did go to a lot of trouble calling your friends and getting your dress size and finding just the right thing on Versace’s ready-to-wear website.” Kouga actually looked a little sheepish. 

“Wait a second,” Kagome said, putting a hand on his chest maybe a little too forcefully, “ You bought this dress? But I thought-” Her eyes trailed again to Inuyasha and Kikyou’s table. They were both surrounded by an adoring crowd and were in full public relations mode. 

“Do you like it?”

“...yeah,” Kagome said, her attention snapping back to Kouga.

“So are we good, then?” Kouga threw back the last of his glass, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You bought this as an apology,” Kagome said, looking down at the dress, a smile breaking out over her face.

“Yeah. Did it work?” Kouga leaned in toward her expectantly.

“Whoa there,” Kagome said, shoving him back with a laugh, “My forgiveness can’t be bought for the price of a dress. You broke a promise. You promised to be a gentleman. And you weren’t.”

“You’re right. But I meant what I told you that night.”

“What? That you were going to give me a ‘full Hollywood party initiation?’” Kagome took a sip of her beer, then folded her arms, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Kouga said, “Not that part. I meant where I said I’d like to see you again.”

Kagome swallowed.

“I mean it,” Kouga ran a hand through his hair, actually looking uncomfortable for once. So much for the Hollywood lothario act. Or maybe this part was an act. Maybe everyone everywhere in this town was always acting. Kagome shot a glance briefly back to Inuyasha and Kikyou’s table, but they were blocked by the crowd still.

“So? How about the LA Film Critics Awards with me?” 

“Excuse me?” Kagome was not amused.

“I mean it. Come with me. We’ll try this again. None of my boys there, no Catherine.”

“I thought her name was Caitlynn.”

“Oh. I think it was. Whatever. But c’mon, Kagome. As an apology. To show you that I really meant it.”

“I think I’d rather drink bleach.” Kagome drained her beer, dropped it to the bar counter with a loud clink, and stood up. “Thanks anyway, but I'm not to be bought for the price of a dress. Bye.”

 


 

Sango watched Kagome leave in a huff, and her eyes narrowed in frustration. She fought back a scowl.

“Miss Ryoshi?” Warner had been talking to her and was waiting for a reply. Good one, girl.

“I’m sorry,” Sango said, forcing her sweetest smile on her face, “I guess I zoned out for a second.” Oh, good one again. Let him see you’re a distracted mess on a very important night. Is it too late for him to take back that raise he gave me? Well, yeah, because I’d kick his ass. Ugh, focus, Sango.

“Quite understandable,” Warner said, “You’ve been doing a wonderful job.”

Yeah, you said that already. God, she was in a mood.

Across the room, Miroku was leaning against the wall, nursing a drink and ignoring the crowd. He seemed to gast a bemused glance at Kouga sitting there at the bar alone, then he suddenly glanced right at her and their eyes met. He didn’t give her a nod and a wink like he’d used to, just smiled sort of sadly and returned his attention to his drink after a moment or two.

Sango felt her heart thump in her chest.

“Darling,” Lana Warner said, “I want another drink.”

“Of course,” Warner said, seemingly suddenly remembering his wife’s presence. Scumbag. “What about you, Sango dear - oh, may I call you Sango?”

“You may,” Sango ground out through her teeth.

 


 

“Here’s to us,” Kikyou said, “And I do mean it. You were fabulous tonight, honey.”

The champagne glasses clinked. Inuyasha said nothing, just downed the whole damn thing without taking a breath.

Kikyou, her eyes sparkling with excitement at once again, always being the center of attention in the room, took the liberty of linking her hand with his under the tabletop. Inuyasha immediately moved to pull away, but she held fast.

“Don’t worry,” Kikyou said, “There’s no cameras allowed in here. No one needs to know yet but us.”

“Know what , exactly?” Inuyasha snapped. He watched Kagome shove away from Kouga and stalk off toward the bathroom. That’s my girl , he thought, then realized what a fucking hypocrite he sounded like, sitting here surrounded by sycophants holding another woman’s hand under a table.

Kikyou just laughed. “You’re so cute. I really did miss you all these months.”

“Did you? Seemed like you were doing just fine without me.”

She pouted. “I can’t ever seem to get through to you how really sorry I am. You have no idea what I’ve been through, how it’s been tormenting me, thinking what a mistake I’ve made. Will you ever forgive me for it?”

I could forgive you if I thought you were sorry for doing it and not just sorry that you got caught. Inuyasha refused to let himself reply out loud and simply cut her a side-eyed glare.

“Honeyyyy,” Kikyou said, “Don’t look at me like that. Be nice to me. I liked it when you used to be nice to me.” She took another sip of her champagne and winked seductively. 

“Yeah, I’ll bet you did,” Inuyasha said shortly.

Kikyou evidently took this as enough of a response and smiled brightly at him. She was well into quite a few drinks at this point, and she never had been good at reading the mood in a situation like this.

“More to drink?” A cocktail waitress appeared with a tray of champagne glasses. Kikyou took one eagerly.

Inuyasha took one as well, fighting the urge to get up from the table and leave his ex-fiancee to her own devices.

 


 

Kagome was washing her hands in the posh bathroom, feeling annoyed, bewildered, and heartsick all at once, when suddenly the stall behind her opened.

“Oh, Kagome Higurashi! What a chance, running into you here!” Yura Kaminoke sidled up to the sink next to her.

“Hi there,” Kagome mumbled.

“I can’t wait to get better acquainted with you,” Yura said, that winning TV smile plastered on her face, “Sango Ryoshi told me all about the interview, and I thought it was just the sweetest idea! It’ll give my viewers a real look at your life. And your sister’s, of course.”

“Excuse me?” Kagome felt like her guts had just fallen out of her body.

“And it will run the same day as the LA Film Critics Awards too, just as we discussed. I’ll see you next week!”

“Wait-” Kagome said, but Yura was already gone.

 


 

Miroku hated these kinds of parties. At least, now that he wasn’t a studio agent schmoozing with the bigwigs. Now that he was just a lowly publicist (with admittedly the highest-value client in town), he had no reason to start any conversations with the hundreds of rich and famous people around him. If they had approached him, it would be a different story, but everyone seemed to be treating him like a fucking leper. On Warner’s carefully worded hints, no doubt.

He would have certainly enjoyed it better sitting next to Sango at a table, but for one thing, she seemed to still want as little as possible to do with him (and he had apologized enough already, dammit, she was a big girl and could make her own decisions on when or if to forgive him), and for another, standing over here by the wall was at least a way to shrug off the meaningful looks of irritation Inuyasha kept shooting at him. Best to just pretend he wasn’t watching at all. Best to just get a little shitfaced on Warner’s company dime.

The thought of that made him feel a little better. Not a lot. But a little.

“Miroku.”

He turned to see Kagome standing there, arms folded tightly.

“That pose makes your boobs look huge.

“Bite me,” Kagome said with a fierce glare, “What’s all this about an interview? With Yura Kaminoke?

“Huh?”

“Don’t you fucking play coy with me. The interview . Apparently I’m sitting down with her for a goddamn TV segment or something next week?” Kagome was practically panting in fury.

“Sweetheart, I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” Miroku held up his hands and took a small step back. Though she be but little, she is fierce.

“Do you mean to tell me,” she said, “that you know nothing about this? I agreed to walk red carpets and do the stupid fashion segments for that. I never agreed to a one-on-one tell-all about all my dirty laundry.”

“Kagome,” Miroku said, as sincerely as he could, “I honestly would never have signed you up for that without talking to you first. It must be something arranged by the studio, or-”

He realized what he had done the second it left his mouth. Kagome immediately spun on her heel and marched across the crowded ballroom, fists clenched. She was making a beeline for Sango and the Warners.

“Kagome, wait!” he called, but to no avail. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Inuyasha shove Kikyou’s hand away under the table as Kagome passed and move to stand up and speak to her, but she was able to ignore even Inuyasha at this moment.

 


 

Sango heard Miroku call out Kagome’s name and looked up at him from her middling conversation about the early reviews of the movie that were being posted online. Her eyes snapped straight to his and she fought that all-too-familiar feeling that seemed to flare up whenever they looked at each other, like being on a rollercoaster about to drop.

Miroku’s eyes were wide and flashing warning signs.

Before Sango could react, there was Kagome, standing right in front of her.

“Sango,” Kagome seemed to bite down on every word, “Can I speak to you for a moment, please?”

Chapter 28: Danger, Danger

Summary:

In which Miroku realizes just how much of a monster he's created, Kagome finds out the full extent to which she's been sold out and SNAPS, Inuyasha can't escape from a drunken Kikyou, and Sango gets knocked down a peg or two.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Danger, Danger

 

“Oh?” Warner said, “Is this the famous little sister I’ve been hearing so much about?” He stuck out his hand with a congenial smile. Kagome took it, her eyes still fixed on Sango’s, her expression still hardened.

Sango flashed a glance to Miroku, who was frantically waving his arms as if to say, “Danger, danger! Run!”

She scoffed slightly, and shot him a smirk and a roll of her eyes.

“Kagome,” she said, cool as a cucumber, “I want you to meet Randall Warner. The head of Sunrise Studios.”

“I know who he is,” Kagome said, “Hello, Mr. Warner. Sango, I need to talk to you. Now.

“You’re quite the little character, aren’t you?” Warner smiled at Kagome like a piranha. “Anything I can do?”

Lana Warner gave a little “Hmph” and strode across the ballroom toward the bar, her champagne glass held aloft.

“No,” Kagome said, “Thank you. Sango?”

Behind her, Miroku kept trying to get Sango’s attention. Sango shot him a brief look and then gave Kagome a warm smile.

“Sure,” Sango said, “I’ll meet you in the ladies’ room. Give me just a minute.”

 


 

On her way to the ladies’ restroom, Kagome passed Kikyou and Inuyasha’s table again. She was going to just walk right past, but Inuyasha caught her by the wrist.

“Let go,” Kagome said, yanking away.

“What’s wrong with you?” Inuyasha said, trying to step toward her but obviously being held back by Kikyou, who was well into her cups from the looks of it.

“Kagome,” Kikyou slurred, “Why don’t you stop running around and bring me a mineral water?” She stumbled into Inuyasha’s side, and he all but dropped her back into her seat at the table. “Oh, and some more champagne.” Kikyou smiled, dropping her chin in her hand and immediately getting distracted by the presence of another couple coming up to say hello behind her.

Kagome wrenched her hands into fists and dug them into her eyes. She knew she was probably messing up her makeup, but who gave a shit at this point. 

“Kagome,” Inuyasha said softly, reaching for her, “Are you-”

“Don’t,” she said, raking her hands through her perfectly styled hair, feeling her fingers catch in some of the tiny braids, “It’s not you. I’m handling it. Sit back down, people are starting to stare.”

And with that, she took a deep breath and left him standing there without a backward glance.

 


 

What Sango needed before going into that restroom was information

Information about what kind of situation she needed to be ready to smooth over.

Information that, unfortunately, could come from no alternative source at the moment.

She finished her drink and handed her glass to a passing waiter.

“If you’ll excuse me for just a moment,” she said silkily to Warner in her best PR voice, “I think there’s an issue with Kikyou’s suite. Kagome had mentioned it before.”

“Oh dear,” Warner said, placing a large hand on her shoulder, “Well, if there’s any trouble, send the hotel staff my way. My stars get only the best. And their families do, as well.”

Sango managed a cordial laugh and walked away toward the bathroom.

Slowly. Very slowly.

Miroku was still giving her the “nix” motions, and she shot him a meaningful look and with a minute gesture beckoned him her way.

With a flair she’d always respected, he was grabbing two fresh glasses of some alcoholic drink and headed toward her with an air so casual that any observer would see a man trying to pick up a beautiful woman at a Hollywood party. Nothing worth noting.

He kept his smile even as he growled at her under his breath. “What the hell did you do? Something about an exclusive profile interview Kagome’s doing with Yura of the Devil Press? You’re feeding her to the fucking wolves.”

Sango scoffed, but kept her smile pasted on as well as they clinked glasses. “What the hell else am I supposed to do? If she’s being watched so closely, might as well get some good press for Kikyou out of it. Talk Kikyou up as the ultimate big sister.”

“You should have talked to me first. Or at least to Kagome. What the hell did she ever do to you?” Miroku took a generous drink of whatever red-colored monstrosity was in his glass.

“It’s like you said, Houshi. Fair game. We can patch everything up when it’s all over.” Sango sipped her drink in turn. Ah, it was a Manhattan. Disgusting.

“Not if you break shit beyond repair. Inuyasha will walk, he said he would.”

Sango laughed humorlessly. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” she said, “When he’s this close to an Oscar and the best Hollywood pairing since Burton and Taylor? When I’m about to broker a deal that gets him his dream projects with full creative control for the next five years?”

Miroku looped an arm around her waist as they walked, strolling casually through the tables, keeping their voices low. She tried not to think about the contact they were making.

“You’re playing way over your head here, kid,” Miroku said, “You’re getting too involved. Not everyone is that mercenary.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” she hissed, “The man who taught me how to go for the jugular.”

He sighed then, looking more pained than angry. Sango couldn’t let it lie.

“I’ve been sitting here fixing the situation you got us into because you decided to play high school matchmaker and send them to play Seven Minutes in Heaven.” She downed the rest of the Manhattan and let her smile drop for just a moment to glare at him.

He didn’t even seem to be in a fighting mood anymore. That just infuriated her more. She wanted him to react , dammit. She was pushing him and poking at him and she wanted, needed to know that she was still able to push his buttons like no one else. She wanted him to hurt as much as…

As much as I’ve been hurting .

Miroku just looked at her evenly as he finished off his own glass, then gently, all too gently, took her own glass out of her hand.

And with a quick kiss to her cheek and a lingering look, he walked off, leaving Sango standing there feeling a little winded.

 


 

Kagome wondered if it was possible to cross her legs tighter than she was right now, sitting on this chaise in the ladies’ lounge. Her ankle bobbed up and down with pure nervous energy. Her hands were folded in her lap, her knuckles white with grip.

This was such bullshit.

She’d agreed to play the game, hell, she’d given up (perhaps forever) her pursuit of the one man in the world she worshipped for the sake of the fucking game. She’d agreed to red carpet appearances and brief what-are-you-wearing interviews. Spur-of-the-moment things. But this?

This story would be filed. Forever. The second Yura Kaminoke got her claws in, she never let go. There was no chance of Kagome going back to her anonymous life and just being a private person again. 

Closing her eyes and fighting to keep herself from shaking, she pictured the questions. Just how invasive and cruel Yura could get with a few taps on a keyboard. How many people voraciously read everything Yura printed as gospel. 

The second this story was posted, there was no future for Inuyasha and Kagome. Not if he wanted to keep his public goodwill (or his career, for that matter) and if she didn’t want to be branded a homewrecker for the rest of her life. Yura was devoted to Kikyou; hell, it was part of why Kikyou’s name was so often in the spotlight. Even when Kikyou and Inuyasha had split up, Yura had been one of many defenders of Kikyou’s behavior, admonishing her own readers for judging when ‘no one can know the full story.’ Yura had been rooting for Inuyasha and Kikyou to reunite since the second they had gone bust, and would publicly annihilate anyone who seemed to be getting in the way.

Kagome wanted to vomit.

The bathroom door opened and Sango stepped in. She looked a little out of sorts and distracted, but immediately saw Kagome and fixed a concerned look on her face. 

“Kagome,” she said gently, locking the door behind her, “Are you okay?”

Kagome didn’t reply as Sango approached her.

“I just want to know,” she said finally, fighting to keep her voice even, “ why.

“What are you talking about? Is this about the interview with Yura? I was going to tell you tonight,” Sango said, her voice all caring and sisterhood. She reached for Kagome’s hand, and Kagome snatched it away.

“Sango,” Kagome said, teeth gritted, “ Why? ” She looked her dead in the eye.

Sango sighed and with an almost painful expression stood upright, casually folding her arms. “You know why,” she said.

“Because you want my sister to win an Oscar,” Kagome’s voice was trembling now, “That’s your reasoning for everything, isn’t it?”

“Alright,” Sango said, looking down from her greater height, “I’ll give it to you straight. The studio has big plans for Kikyou after Oscar season if all goes as planned. Huge. Inuyasha too. In fact, he’s the one who stands to gain the most. A full five-year studio contract, an eight-figure salary per picture, with complete creative control. It’s what he’s always wanted, isn’t it? To make the movies that are important to him.”

Kagome felt the angry tears springing to her eyes and willed herself not to scream in frustration. “It has nothing to do with me,” she said, “I said I’d play along and I will, but not like this. Not in the papers to Yura Kaminoke .”

“You’re blowing this way out of proportion,” Sango said, her expression neutral, “It’s a fluff piece, nothing more. You’re telling her all about yourself and your likes and dislikes. Completely harmless.”

“Nothing Yura does is ever harmless and you know it.”

Sango sighed, almost looking exasperated . “Kagome,” she said, “I thought you were willing to do whatever it takes. I’m disappointed now.”

“No Oscar is worth this,” Kagome said, “Nothing is worth this.” She didn’t elaborate but she knew Sango knew what she meant.

“You really want to abandon your sister? Destroy Inuyasha’s career opportunities? All over a short little fling?” It was amazing how callous Sango was being. This was a side she’d never shown to Kagome, and frankly it was terrifying.

Kagome didn’t respond.

Sango crouched down and got eye-level with her. “I’ll even throw in a carrot for you,” she said with a small smile, “You’re done being your sister’s assistant after the Oscar ceremonies. I’ve got a replacement coming to your house in the morning, and you can train him up just perfectly. Think of it, Kagome. A chance to live life on your own and know Kikyou will be okay. Houshi told me you wanted to go start a photography studio. Well, in a few months, you’ll have your chance.”

“I made a promise to my mom. I’m supposed to take care of my sister. You can’t just replace me. Kikyou would never agree to it,” Kagome said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“She already has. Did you think Kikyou wasn’t aware of this situation at all? I told her about the interview date this morning.”

At Kagome’s stunned silence, Sango’s smile turned into an almost pitying smirk. “She didn’t mention it to you, did she?”

Kagome put a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Kagome,” Sango said, “The interview was Kikyou’s idea in the first place.”

 


 

Sango knew the second she dropped that truth, it would all be over.

And it was. 

Kagome had both hands clapped over her mouth, and she sunk low in her seat, elbows on her knees, eyes to the floor.

Sango stood back up, fighting the urge to give comfort. She had to make this stick . Human decency be damned.

“I’ll do it,” Kagome said, her voice a small croak, muffled through her hands.

And Sango felt the horrible rush of pity and sorrow overtake her again. This had to be done, but she’d expected to feel better when she did it. It was another reminder how much she hated when things weren’t able to be taken care of on her own terms.

“I want it in writing,” Kagome mumbled, “That I’m to be left alone after the Oscars. I want the studio and Yura to sign it too. Under threat of libel and breach of contract, non-disclosure, the works.”

“Done,” Sango said quickly. She wanted to reach out and place a hand on Kagome’s shoulder, but thought better of it. So she stood there awkwardly as Kagome folded into a little ball in front of her.

And then.

Kagome started to laugh.

It started as a small muffled giggle, and then turned into almost a scream of laughter. Kagome finally leaned back in her seat, wiping the tears from her eyes and smiling almost serenely at the ceiling.

“Uh,” Sango said, “Are you-”

Kagome didn’t respond.

“Kagome?”

No answer. Kagome stood up and smoothed out the skirt of her leather dress, looking like she’d just spent twenty-four hours in a day spa.

“I said, are you okay?” 

Kagome walked past her, then turned and looked Sango in the eye.

For a brief moment, Kagome’s eyes flashed with what looked like pity of her own. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Oh, no.

Sango knew it was coming, knew she should dodge, or duck, or something . But she stood there and took it.

The punch collided with her cheekbone and sent her staggering into the bathroom sink. Sango braced herself against the sides and her hand immediately went to her face. She said nothing, just watched Kagome calmly shake off her own fist and walk toward the door.

Miroku was standing outside, surrounded by a throng of young ladies whining to use the bathroom. He stepped well out of the way when he saw Kagome coming, and she ducked under his outstretched arm and disappeared into the crowd.

“Excuse me just a moment, ladies,” Miroku said, and their cries of protest became louder as he stepped into the bathroom and swiftly locked the door behind himself.

Sango refused to meet his eyes, her hand clapped over her quickly swelling cheekbone.

“I suppose I should have warned you,” Miroku said, grabbing a hand towel out of the basket on the counter next to her and running cool water over it, “I’ve been on the receiving end of one of those punches before, and that was before she learned how to fistfight. Word of advice, babe, don’t piss off a girl who cut her teeth in mosh pits at Judas Priest concerts.”

Sango just glared at him.

“I just want you to remember one thing. She was your friend, Sango. She was nice to you when no one else would give you the time of day around here. And you threw her to the vultures.”

Sango kept silent but felt her eyes brim with tears.

“Alright, enough of my preaching for one day. Move your hand,” he said calmly, and after a moment of stubborn hesitation, she relented. He pressed the towel to her face gently. “Yeah, that’s gonna be a hell of a shiner tomorrow. Hope you’ve got good concealer.”

 


 

“Why won’t you?” Kikyou whined, “Just one.”

“I’m not kissing you in front of all these people,” Inuyasha snapped, fighting to get out of her arms locked around his neck. 

“So take me home,” Kikyou slurred, burying her face in his neck, “and kiss me there.”

He shoved against her shoulders, teeth set on edge, and looked up to see Kagome walking up. She seemed to be in a daze as she sat across from the two of them, leaning back in her chair, closing her eyes, and letting out a loud, slow exhale.

“Kagome?” Inuyasha said, breaking his concentration, staring at her. Kikyou took advantage and nuzzled up to his chest.

Kagome didn’t answer. She looked a little roughed up, but her manner was cool and collected. She sat there for a moment, eyes closed, then blinked them open. 

She seemed to take in the sight of the two of them, Inuyasha and Kikyou, in what surely looked like a familiar embrace. Inuyasha immediately resumed trying to push Kikyou off of him.

“Help,” he said, fighting to keep his voice low.

“Oh,” she said hazily, “don’t let me interrupt.”

“Very funny,” he said with a roll of his eyes, then his face returned to its look of concern. “Is everything okay?”

“I hope so. Maybe. Eventually.” She gave him a smile that looked both relieved and heartbroken.

“Kagome?” Kikyou looked up, “Where’s my mineral water and champagne?” Drunk as a skunk and she still remembered the demands she made. Inuyasha sighed.

Kagome’s smile widened to a dazzling degree as her attention turned to her sister. She stood, leaning over the table to whisper in Kikyou’s ear (giving Inuyasha a wonderful view of her cleavage, not that he was looking or anything), and whispered.

“I don’t give a shit.

Inuyasha blinked. Kikyou just pouted. She was likely drunk enough to not even know what was going on, much less be shocked at Kagome’s response.

“Come on,” Kagome said, leaning back and folding her arms, “Let’s get her home.”

“What?” Inuyasha knew he was staring at her but didn’t care. His heart was pounding in his chest. “I can’t be seen going to your house.”

“Yes, you can,” Kikyou said, nuzzling him closer.

“Yes, you can,” Kagome echoed, giving him a meaningful look.

Oh.

Fighting to not look as bewildered as he felt, he helped Kikyou to her feet and followed Kagome out the door.

Chapter 29: Loose Cannon

Summary:

In which Miroku's escape plan leads to some awkwardness, Inuyasha witnesses a screaming match, and Kagome gets the hell outta dodge.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Loose Cannon

 

“Come on,” Miroku said, “Let’s get out of here.”

“I can’t leave,” Sango said, “My face-” She checked the mirror. It was swelling even more now, one cheek far larger than the other. And now her face was stained with tears. Warner would see. Everyone would see. And they’d connect the dots, realize who the culprit was, and start asking more questions as to what Sango had done to make sweet little Kagome Higurashi fire off and hit her like that. And what Sango had done was just awful.

“I have an idea,” Miroku said with a sigh, pulling Sango to her feet, “but you’re not gonna like it.”

 


 

Of all the awkward situations in the fucking world.

Kikyou on one side of Inuyasha, wobbling on her high heels and snuggling her face into his jacket sleeve while cooing softly in comfort. Kagome on the other side holding Kikyou’s purse in one hand and with the other on her hip, looking straight ahead at the mirrored elevator doors as they ascended back to the Higurashi suite.

Inuyasha turned his head slightly to face Kagome, opening his mouth to speak, and she immediately shook her head. “Not yet,” she whispered, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Oh, fuck. She’s mad as hell. 

So he shut the hell up and proceeded to help Kikyou limp along through the opening elevator doors.

“Mmm,” Kikyou said, “Send Kagome downstairs, Inuyasha. So you and I can have some private time.” She clutched at his shoulder tighter.

“This is my room, too,” Kagome said tartly as she unlocked the suite door with , “I’m not going anywhere.”

Inuyasha tried to meet her eyes as she held the door open.

“Kagome,” Kikyou said, unceremoniously kicking off her shoes, “Order me some room service. I want some fresh fruit and a bottle of water. With electrolytes.”

“You have two hands,” Kagome said, all too calmly, as she undid her hair in the vanity mirror, “Get it yourself.”

Holy shit. Kagome was not playing around anymore. Inuyasha shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it in a heap on a nearby end table.

Kikyou scowled. “Just who do you think you are all of a sudden, the Queen of Sheba? I told you to do something. I pay you to do what I tell you. Now do it.

Kagome looked like she was ready to scream. Still facing the mirror, she glared at Kikyou’s reflection across the room, digging her hands into the vanity table’s surface as if to anchor herself in place. “No.”

“Kagome, what would Mom say if she saw you right now?” Kikyou shook her head in exaggerated pity, “I just need some help and you won’t help me.”

It was like a ping pong match, Inuyasha’s head snapping back and forth between the two women in front of him. He was going to get whiplash.

“That’s not going to work anymore, Kikyou. You made your decision,” Kagome said, digging her nails into the table even more, her face a mask of pure unadulterated fury, “You agreed to put me in that interview, right? You agreed to have me train my own replacement, right?

“Wait a second-” Inuyasha was cut off.

“Yes, I did!” Kikyou said, wobbling and grabbing the back of a chair to steady herself, “I thought it was high time you got a little humble around here. Everything you have, everything you are , is because of me, and you’ve been acting like an ungrateful little snot. Well, now you can have all the fun you like being me. Having everyone look at you and judge everything you do. And you can go try your hand at existing on your own, knowing you failed Mom and everyone else’s wishes because of your own selfishness.” She stumbled into the chair and sat down, trying to look haughty as she brushed an errant lock of straight black hair away from her face.

“You fucking liar,” Kagome sneered, “You did it for the contract. For the Oscar . This has nothing to do with me at all. It never did. In fact, my feelings have never once been under consideration for the last twenty-three years.”

“Wait,” Inuyasha said, looking at Kikyou, “ What contract?” Kikyou ignored him; they both seemed to be pretty good at that right now.

“Excuse me?” Kikyou screeched, “When Mom died, I took you in out of the goodness of my own heart. I fed you, I bought you clothes, I got you a job-”

“All with strings attached,” Kagome’s eyes were filled with tears now. She looked on the verge of crumpling over the vanity table in exhaustion, but it seemed like pure blind rage was keeping her upright.

Kikyou looked outraged. “I can’t believe you, you little ingrate. You’re going to skip on the interview? After everything we’ve been through to get here?”

What interview?” Inuyasha asked, though he knew it was an exercise in futility.

“Oh no,” Kagome said, “I’m not skipping out on anything. You’re getting your interview. You’re getting me at my ass-kissiest. Don’t you fucking worry; your precious career’s not in jeopardy here.”

The clear look of relief on Kikyou’s face reflected in the mirror only seemed to piss Kagome off further. She turned to face Kikyou, hands clenched into fists.

“Well,” Kikyou said, still clearly slurring from all the champagne she’d had, “I wish you all the best in future. But after you train your replacement, consider yourself fired.

Inuyasha saw it, knew it was coming when Kagome’s hand closed around a hairbrush on the counter behind her. He jumped in front of Kikyou as the brush sailed across the room, catching it deftly with one hand and batting it to the floor.

Kagome looked at him furiously, and with not a little bewilderment. Her eyes went to the brush on the floor, and back to him.

Not fucking worth it,” he said almost sternly.

Kikyou spluttered in indignation. “D-Did you see that?” she demanded of Inuyasha, “She tried to hurt me! My own sister! ” She pawed at his back, grabbing at his arm.

Inuyasha didn’t take his eyes away from Kagome’s. She stood there in that fucking gorgeous dress, shaking with fury, tears now freely spilling from her eyes.

“Get her out of here!” Kikyou cried, “She’s a loose cannon! She’s crazy!

Kagome just looked at Inuyasha, lips pressed together, brow furrowed, eyes wide and shining with tears.

“You’d better go,” Inuyasha said, shrugging out of Kikyou’s grip. Before this gets any worse, he tried to relay without speaking.

“I’m not fucking finished, ” Kagome said, gritting her teeth.

“Get out!” Kikyou screeched, “Or I’ll call security and have you thrown out!”

“Shut up, both of you!” Inuyasha snapped.

“Or what?” Kagome said, her voice a clear challenge.

Kagome seemed fully willing to fight whoever was willing, the way she was squaring up.

“Kagome,” Inuyasha said, fighting to keep his own voice even. All he wanted to do was go to her and throw his arms around her and tell her how sorry he was for everything, but that would risk Kikyou completely going off the deep end and who knew what would happen then. He had no idea what was going on in this conversation, but it was getting dangerous. When Kagome was mad , really fucking mad , she was apt to destroy a whole room if it meant getting to vent her rage.

Kagome held his gaze for a few more moments, then her face crumpled into true tears and she walked briskly to her room down the hall.

“Inuyasha,” Kikyou cried, standing up and throwing her arms around him as Kagome passed. He didn’t react, just watched Kagome look the two of them up and down, her face twisted in pain and anger, until she disappeared behind the door and slammed it shut.

“Kikyou,” he said softly, “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m not going back there with that violent little brat right next door,” Kikyou said, swaying on her feet, “Get rid of her. I want her gone.

“She’s leaving, Kikyou. Now please,” he said, trying to keep his tone civil even with the barrage of questions and creative insults running through his brain trying to fight their way out through his mouth, “I need to talk to Kagome for a minute. Make sure she’s calmed down and won’t do anything stupid.” He meant as far as Kagome’s own health and safety was concerned, but Kikyou could think he was trying to make sure Kagome was still down to do whatever this interview was and remain on their side in public. He frankly didn’t give a shit what Kikyou thought, except he needed a moment alone with the girl who was surely crying in her room right now.

The stunningly beautiful creature in front of him, after this knock-down drag-out fight with her only remaining blood in the world, after practically telling Kagome she was worthless to her face, was able to smile at him so serenely, so calmly, as she ran a finger from his temple to his chin and pushed a lock of his silver-white hair out of his face.

“Anything for you, honey,” she said, her voice like sweet syrup, “I’ll see you in there in a few minutes. Let me slip into something more comfortable.”

He would have scoffed aloud at the tired line, but he merely nodded as she swept past him, down the long hallway into the master bedroom.

 


 

Kagome sniffled as she haphazardly shrugged out of her dress, letting the black leather crumple on the floor at her feet. Reaching in her simple duffel bag, she pulled out a long-sleeved top and her old familiar ripped jeans. She had pulled on the jeans and fastened them and was just about to pull on her shirt when the door opened.

“As much as I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, you sure picked the weirdest time to do it, kiddo.”

“Get out!” she hissed at Inuyasha, who was standing in the doorway looking stricken and concerned and she just couldn’t deal with it right now.

He ignored her and shut the door behind him, locking it.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped, turning away from him and slipping her shirt over her head, then folding her arms around her shoulders.

“Shhh,” he said behind her, “Kikyou’s down the hall and shitfaced drunk, but I don’t want her to hear you.”

Kagome scoffed and folded her dress into fourths and tossed it into her open duffel, then went about putting on socks and her combat boots with an overzealous fervor. Inuyasha sat on the bed beside her. She felt his arms close around her waist and closed her eyes, the tears falling again as she breathed in his scent.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he said softly, “What happened at the party to make you like this?”

“Kikyou’s arranged for me to be interviewed by Yura Kaminoke next week,” Kagome said with a humorless smile.

“She fucking WHAT ?”

“Shhh,” Kagome said, leaning her head back onto his collarbone, “Kikyou’s down the hall and shitfaced drunk, but I don’t want her to hear you.”

 


 

Miroku leaned deeper into the kiss, covering Sango’s body with his against the wall of the hotel ballroom. Sango, for her part, was raking her hands through his hair and seemed to be weakening at the knees. 

“Almost there,” he whispered into her mouth, and she whimpered in response. Okay, devil woman, you didn’t have to make that noise.

They stumbled together, using the wall for support, his hands clutching her face, ravishing each other until they reached the ballroom doors. Then Sango pulled away and nuzzled her face into his neck as they half-walked, half-limped through the lobby and toward the valet stand.

“Um,” the young parking attendant was apparently quite embarrassed at the public displays of affection happening so boldly in full view of everyone, “Do you have your ticket, sir?”

“Right here,” Miroku said, his voice sounding much scratchier than usual, handing the slip of paper to the young man.

“We’ll have your car for you right away,” the valet said.

“Great,” Miroku said, grabbing Sango’s face and kissing her again. She pulled him closer to her, linking her arms around his neck.

Not three minutes later, the car drove up, and the valet awkwardly cleared his throat, holding up the keys. Without breaking the kiss, Miroku grabbed them out of the kid’s outstretched hand and quickly led Sango to the passenger door.

Once they were safely in the car, Sango opened the sun visor mirror to take a look at her cheek, which was still very obviously swelling.

“Thanks for that,” she said, and the awkward tension grew to near suffocating levels. Her face was flushed and her breathing a little labored, and all Miroku wanted to do was get her more flustered.

But he wouldn’t. Not tonight.

“Don’t mention it,” Miroku said nonchalantly, lighting a cigarette and putting the car into drive.

 


 

“So where are you going?” Inuyasha whispered finally, his forehead on Kagome’s shoulder.

“Another hotel, I guess.”

“What about…” He paused, feeling his throat becoming uncharacteristically dry, “What about staying with me for the time being?”

Kagome turned to him with a genuine smile. “You know we can’t do that,” she said softly, “Not yet, anyway. I made a deal.”

Inuyasha growled low in his chest. “Does that mean we have to stay away from each other for the next two months?” 

“Pretty much.” She laid her head in the crook of his neck, clearly fighting back a fresh round of tears.

“Cut that out,” he admonished with a chuckle, “You with the crying in my arms all the time. Makes me feel like a bad man.”

“You’re not a bad man,” Kagome said, trembling a little with her quiet sobs, “You’re the best man. Number one. My favorite.”

Okay, she could surely feel how much his heart was pounding; her ear was right on his chest for god’s sake. And then she had to go and say shit like that.

“I have just one more thing to say,” she said quietly, eyes closed like she was bracing herself for something, “And I don’t want to hear any reply or answer, because I have so much to do and so many things to get lined up and I can’t focus if I hear anything from you.”

“What the hell are you on about now.”

“I’m so sorry,” she was saying, “This is so complicated and I’m about to make it worse.”

“Kagome-”

“I just feel like if I don’t say it now, I might not ever get to say it, you know?”

“For fuck’s sake, woman,” Inuyasha said, turning her in his arms so she was fully facing him, “Spit it out!”

“I’m trying to say that I love you, you moron.”

Inuyasha blinked. For once, he was speechless.

“I’ve loved you from the first time we played heavy metal music together in the drive-thru in Hollywood. There, I said it.” Kagome looked up at him almost defiantly , though her cheeks were flushed beet red.

Inuyasha opened his mouth to reply, but she shoved away. “No! I told you, no replying! You can tell me one way or the other after the Oscars. I can’t hear it right now.”

She grabbed her duffel bag and the Star Wars backpack she often used as a purse. “I gotta go,” she said quickly, “When I figure out where I’m going, I’ll call you, okay?”

In the span of five seconds she was gone, and Inuyasha felt like he’d been sucker punched in the gut.

Chapter 30: How's Your Face?

Summary:

In which an office meeting gets awkward and tense very quickly, Inuyasha is a gullible idiot, Kikyou gives an Oscar-worthy apology, and our new Warrior!Kagome takes someone out to lunch.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirty

How's Your Face?

 

The phone on Sango’s desk buzzed. “A Miss Kagome Higurashi to see you, Miss Ryoshi,” said the secretary over the intercom.

“Send her up,” Sango said, ignoring the nervous energy charging up her spine. She quickly grabbed her small compact mirror out of her desk drawer to check her concealer. The bruise was long and dark, but a good ten coats of her expensive shit had reduced it to a tiny shadow on her face. For a second, she contemplated putting her sunglasses on, then realized what an idiot she’d look like. So she settled herself with looking super busy with a fake phone call.

“Yeah, we need to get the interview with Hiten Raimei rescheduled for later this week. He’s going on some sort of yoga retreat and won’t be back in town until Friday,” she was bullshitting as Kagome walked through the door. Sango didn’t look up yet, trying to give off as much of an illusion as possible that she was Sango Ryoshi and had it all together.

After a good fifteen seconds more, Sango hung up her phone call of lies with a simple, “Get it done,” and looked up at Kagome sitting in the chair across from her.

“Good morning, Kagome,” she said, “Here for the contract? I had it drawn up this morning.”

Kagome sat there, in a Slayer cut-off tee shirt and black jeans with the knees ripped out, her face half-obscured by large dark aviator sunglasses. She said nothing, just remained still with her arms crossed.

Sango got the contract out of the stack of paperwork on her desk and plopped it in front of Kagome.

“How’s your face?” Kagome finally said, and Sango felt a strange aura of animosity grip the room suddenly.

“It’s fine,” Sango said with a wave of her hand, trying to avoid the embarrassing blush rising to her cheeks. “No big deal. I guess I deserved it, huh?”

“Well, I thought so.” Kagome removed her sunglasses and placed them atop her head with a small smile. The air had a distinct chill to it.

“Anyway, the contract,” Sango said quickly, feeling that stupid urge again to apologize tearfully at Kagome’s feet and stamping it out with a distraction, “Just as you wanted. Basically, the studio will represent you for the next two months and handle all your press and public engagements. I’ll email you the calendar. It’s just the interview this week, and then all the awards ceremonies. Not much more than that.”

“I want to see the calendar,” Kagome said politely.

“Oh. Okay.” Sango suddenly felt like it was her first day of work again as she pulled her events calendar up on her phone and handed it to Kagome.

Kagome looked it over for the next few seconds, scrolling through the months, no doubt looking for anything objectionable. Sango suddenly wished she did smoke on the regular; a cigarette would do a lot for her nerves right now.

“Looks fine,” Kagome finally said, “And the NDA?”

“Right here,” Sango pointed out a highlighted bit on the contract, “Already signed by Yura and a dozen of our other local press people for good measure.” She had called the extra people for signatures as some strange form of penance, a way to ensure to Kagome that she really did mean what she said this time.

She fucking hates me now. And it’s all my fault.

“I’m completely off-limits after the Oscars, then,” Kagome said, nodding and reading through the paragraphs, “Nothing reported, no magazine articles, nothing.”

“Well, we can’t stop the unsponsored bloggers, of course,” Sango said quickly, “but once they figure out you’re no longer big news, they’ll leave off. And no pap calls, ever. Not ever. I’ve made that very clear to every agency in town. If anything, and I mean, anything, ever shows up in papers or online, we move forward with a cease-and-desist and a breach-of-contract suit.”

“Good,” Kagome said, still reading carefully.

“Oh, and there’s this,” Sango, almost too eagerly, turned the page to the last clause. “The contract guarantees you your remaining salary as Kikyou’s assistant for the next year and a half, so you’re free to go open that photography studio wherever you want. The studio is covering it for you and the funds will be wired to your bank account bimonthly.”

Kagome just looked at it with a small hum of approval. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her expression unreadable.

“I wanted to,” Sango said, trying to keep the edge of pleading out of her tone, “I realize how difficult this whole situation has been for you, and I really am sorry for using you without talking to you first.”

Finally, Kagome met her eyes. There was a raised eyebrow, but Kagome seemed to read the sincerity in Sango’s face, and finally she nodded.

“Thanks for the apology,” Kagome said, picking up the waiting ballpoint pen and turning to the signature page, “I don’t know if I’m ready to say that I forgive you yet, but…” She trailed off and signed her name on the highlighted blank sections.

Sango wanted to hug her, but knew that was a terrible idea right now.

“You know I really love him, right?” Kagome said, leaning back in her chair, twirling the pen in her hand and staring at it, “You know it’s not just a fling.”

Sango, a lump in her throat, sat back down at her desk, ran a hand through her hair, and said, “I know.”

There was a moment of silence.

Kagome sighed and stood up, replacing her sunglasses on her face. “So when do I meet the new assistant kid?”

“Right now, if you like. He’s in an office down the hall, filling out his W4 and all that shit.”

“Sure. I’ll take him to lunch or something.”

Sango led her down the hall and opened the door.

“Kagome,” she said as the young man stood up with a start, “I’d like you to meet Hojo.”

 


 

Inuyasha blinked awake, wondering where the hell he was for a good ten seconds before remembering. He was still in his suit from the night before, laying atop the covers in Kagome’s hotel room.

He’d lain in this bed, this bed that smelled of her so strongly, so of course his dreams had been plagued with images of her smiling face the entire night. Of course that oh-so-important little nugget of truth she’d dropped just before walking out the fucking door was playing on repeat in his head.

“I’m trying to say that I love you, you moron.”

Inuyasha pressed both fists into his eyes and heaved a great sigh. 

“Good morning.”

Inuyasha shot up with a start. Kikyou was standing there in her white robe, leaning on the doorframe.

“Morning,” he said, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand casually, “How’s your head? You had a shit ton of champagne last night.”

“I knowww,” Kikyou said, running a hand over her face with a pained smile, “What happened last night? Where’s Kagome?”

“You seriously don’t remember.”

Kikyou looked at him with an expression of confusion. “Did something happen with Kagome?”

Inuyasha sighed, stood up, and stretched. “I’ll order room service.”

“Get me some fresh fruit and a Bloody Mary, okay?” Kikyou disappeared down the hall.

He ran a hand over his eyes and trudged to the hotel phone in the suite’s common room. HIs own phone sat discarded on the chair, and he picked it up. The battery was low, crawling at around ten percent. No missed calls.

With a quick look toward the master bedroom, he texted Kagome’s number.

“Morning, kiddo. You okay?”

He slipped the phone into the pocket of his suit pants.

 


 

“Oh, god, Houshi, give me a fucking cigarette.”

“Well, hello to you too,” Miroku said as Sango rushed up to him. He reached in his jacket pocket, produced the pack, and lit the cigarette for her, as well as one for himself.

She stood there, inhaling like no tomorrow, then coughed. Her legs seemed to be trembling. Maybe it was the heels; they were sky high once again. Miroku counted his lucky stars he’d been blessed with a fairly decent adult height or he might have been looking up at her instead of straight into her eyes.

“I take it Kagome came in to sign her contract, then?”

“She just left,” Sango said taking another drag, “Took the new kid to lunch. He’s green as hell, but that’s probably a good thing. Kagome always went above and beyond when it came to her job, so he has no basis for comparison to realize what a snake pit he’s walking into.”

“How was she?” Miroku leaned against Sango’s desk casually. She looked away.

“Fine, I think. Still hates me, of course. But she signed the contract, no problem. Thanks for drafting that, by the way, I owe you one.”

Miroku fought the urge to make a saucy remark about just how she could repay him and instead just gave her a small smirk. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Sango said, holding the cigarette aloft in her hand and fixing him with a suspicious look.

Miroku put a gentle hand to her cheek, his fingers lightly tracing the hint of a bruise on it. “Just came to check in on you. Should I not have?”

Sango’s eyelids fluttered slightly, and the cheek he was touching started to turn a bright shade of pink. “Houshi, just because I had to make out with you last night doesn’t mean-”

“Of course it doesn’t,” he cut her off smoothly, refusing to remove his hand from her face, “I know when a kiss is real and when it isn’t, babe.”

She blinked in what looked like mild surprise. Miroku resisted the urge to grin in self-satisfaction. Weren’t expecting that , were you? He continued.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’m here purely to check on my business partner.”

She looked almost sullen for a second and Miroku wanted to laugh out loud despite the pounding in his chest.

He had her.

Maybe not completely like before, but this was a start.

“And on that note,” Miroku said, practically tearing himself away before she could put her hand over his and make him lose all sense of control and self-respect, “I’d better get out of here. I’m still persona non grata around these parts.”

He turned to leave.

“Um,” Sango said, sounding very flustered indeed, “Did you want to meet somewhere for lunch, maybe?”

Yes, yes I do.

“Oh, sorry, babe. I got a meeting with my client. You know him. Tall, white hair, looks like a lovesick puppy lately?” Miroku refused to turn around; it might give him away entirely. “But call me later if you want. I’m free for dinner if you want to discuss business.”

As he left, he heard her muttering his name and a few choice curse words under her breath, and he finally let himself grin like an idiot.

 


 

“So yeah,” Inuyasha said, “That’s about the long and short of it. Basically, you fucked up big time, Kikyou.” There was a strong, sharp edge to his voice that he refused to bother disguising.

Kikyou just looked at him, chin in her hand, over her barely-nibbled breakfast. “Oh dear,” she said, “I didn’t mean to be that harsh.”

“‘Harsh’ is a fucking birthday cake compared to what you did,” Inuyasha growled, feeling himself growing frustrated again and trying hard to stamp it out.

Kikyou picked absently at the fur lining of her luxurious robe. “I guess I was just jealous, is all. And I lashed out at her.”

“Jealous?”

“Of you and Kagome. How long have you two been...seeing each other?”

Inuyasha almost choked on the water he was drinking. “Wh-what?”

“You and Kagome,” Kikyou said, not meeting his eyes.

Inuyasha gulped, knowing his face was turning beet red. “How did you-” He drank another sip of water. “Uh, not very long.”

Kikyou’s eyes met his. “I knew it,” she said evenly, sitting upright in her chair.

Inuyasha wanted to be anywhere in the world but in this hotel suite at this table right now. He steeled himself for the temper tantrum.

It never came. She just sat there, sipping her mineral water. 

“So you say you knew,” Inuyasha said, “Is that why you threw her to Yura Kaminoke? Is that why you fired her?”

“No,” Kikyou said simply, “I just think she needs to get away from all of this, don’t you? This is the kick in the pants she needs, isn’t it?”

“She didn’t need a kick in the pants in the first place. She didn’t do anything to you at all.”

“You’re right. She didn’t.” Kikyou sighed and resumed playing with the lining of her robe.

Inuyasha had not expected such an easy agreement.

“I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with,” Kikyou said, looking deeply ashamed of herself, “but I’m sad she didn’t feel like she could talk to me about it. I’m her sister, after all.”

Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Kikyou Higurashi?

“I guess I deserve it, anyway,” Kikyou said, her eyes filling with tears, “Losing you to Kagome is my punishment for taking you for granted in the first place.” She buried her face in her hands and gave a quiet sob.

Inuyasha reached out an awkward hand and patted her on the shoulder, his mouth open in a sort of half-grimace, half-frown. “Listen,” he said haltingly, “This thing with Kagome and me...it just sort of happened , okay? It wasn’t-”

“Were you just trying to make me jealous?” Kikyou’s eyes snapped up to his, shining with tears, “Do you actually love her?”

Inuyasha swallowed. There was a long silence. 

“I’m trying to say that I love you, you moron.”

“Yeah,” he said finally, “I think I do.”

And holy shit, it was so true.

Kikyou’s eyes narrowed for an instant, then she crumpled back into tears and buried her face in her hands once again, “And I’ve ruined your happiness. How can I ever ask for your forgiveness?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Inuyasha said, wanting to curl up and die from the awkwardness of all this but putting a good-natured tone in his voice all the same, “She and I are fine.”

“You are?” Kikyou didn’t look up.

“Yeah. So don’t worry. You didn’t spoil anything.” He smiled and sat back in his chair, then glanced at Kikyou to find she was staring at him through her hands.

“Well,” she sniffled, “I suppose that’s good. And at least with her getting out on her own, you’re free to be with her just as you please, right?”

Inuyasha nodded.

She sat back up, wiping the two delicate tearstreaks off her cheeks. “Well,” she said, “I guess I know when I’m out of my league, right? Can’t combat true love .”

Inuyasha winced. “Kikyou-”

“It’s okay,” she said, looking immaculate despite just having cried like a baby, “I understand and I just want the two of you to be happy. And if you ever need someone to talk to, someone who’s not Kagome or your agent, I’m here.”

“Th-thanks,” Inuyasha said, unsure of how to take this. This was like old Kikyou. A little overdramatic, sure, but sweet and magnanimous to a fault. Had she had a drunken epiphany last night and realized treating people like dirt wasn’t worth it?

“You’d better go,” Kikyou said, “I need a good long bubblebath and some me time. It’s not every day you get dumped for your little sister.”

“Kikyou, we haven’t been a couple in months.”

She simply smiled and said, “I’ll see you at the LA Film Critic Awards. I’ll be there as your date, just as planned. Keep me posted.”

And then she left him there, sitting at the table, feeling very confounded but pleased despite himself.

 


 

“It’s just such an honor to meet you,” Hojo said, “I can’t believe I’m sitting with the sister of Kikyou HIgurashi!

“Oh please,” Kagome said, awkwardly waving him off and disappearing behind her menu, “I’m the lowest form of celebrity.”

Hojo was cute, in a college boy sort of way, with short brown hair and a very kind, open smile. Kagome felt both endeared by his enthusiasm and repelled by it. He was young, probably right around her own age. But Kagome had been in this town over eight years and he’d been here all of two weeks.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” Hojo said, talking animatedly as he perused his menu for what to order for lunch, “I saw you on Yura Kaminoke’s blog the other day. The red carpet interview for ‘The Red Robe.’ You’re amazing!”

Please stop, Kagome thought, my thoughts are turning murderous again and I was just starting to feel better now that I’m getting a good sandwich. She simply answered with a shrug and a warm smile.

“Anything you want, by the way,” she said, watching Hojo’s eyes bug out at the prices of the various dishes, “It’s on me. Welcome to Hollywood, Hojo.”

It was weird, feeling like the seasoned, grizzled old veteran here. 

When their food had arrived, Kagome thought of a good icebreaker. “So you just got here,” she said through a mouthful of sandwich, tossing her long dark curls over her shoulder to get them out of her way, “Where are you from originally?”

“South Dakota. I just graduated with my film studies degree, so here I am!”

 Fresh from the Midwest, full of Hollywood hopes and dreams. She wanted to scream, “RUN!” 

“So you’re...twenty-two?”

Hojo nodded. 

Yep, just a hair younger than she was. And he seemed like such a kid.

“So you know Kikyou Higurashi better than anyone,” Hojo said, “What’s she like?”

She’s the absolute fucking worst. She will tell you how much she loves you and needs you and then chew you up and spit you out. Everyone else is an object to her.

“Oh, you know,” Kagome said, “She’s a star , through and through.” Good job, significantly less bitchy. Ten points for Kagome.

“I’m so excited to meet her,” Hojo said, “I have to admit, I had a bit of a crush on her when I was in high school.”

“Tell her that,” Kagome said, “She’ll be thrilled to hear it.”

“You look kind of like her, too. Does anyone ever tell you that?”

Oh, for the love of fucking god.

Hojo didn’t seem to notice Kagome’s subtle attempt to rip her sandwich in half with her bare hands and barrelled on with the questions.

“You know Inuyasha too, right?”

Kagome hoped her gulp wasn’t as audible as it felt.

Hojo looked up at her from his lunch. “What’s he like in person?”

She busied herself with another bite of her sandwich, chewed, swallowed, then said, “He’s a really great guy. You’ll like him; everyone does when they meet him.” Also I love him, I love him, I love him...

“So, I’m sure this is all top secret,” Hojo said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “but are they actually getting back together? Like the magazines and blogs are all saying?”

Kagome sat back in her chair, taking a long sip of water out of the goblet-like glass. Her face was expressionless.

“For now,” she said.

Chapter 31: An Overworked Single Mom

Summary:

In which Kikyou continues to bewilder everyone around her with what seems to be a sudden change of heart, Miroku fears death from any number of angry sources, and Kagome announces her plans for new living arrangements.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirty-One

An Overworked Single Mom

 

“Dammit,” Kagome hissed under her breath. Her contact number for Inuyasha still wasn’t working and she’d completely forgotten all about it. She made a mental note to ask Miroku about it later. She couldn’t right now, not with Hojo sitting in the passenger seat next to her. Besides, texting and driving was illegal and dangerous, and she was still a good little girl at heart.

“Holy smokes,” he said, looking at the size of the mansions whizzing by at a sizable speed.

“You think that’s impressive,” Kagome said, turning onto their street, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

And sure enough, Hojo’s eyes grew to the size of saucers when he saw the almost criminal size of the Higurashi mansion. “How many people live in there?” he asked.

“Right now? Three,” Kagome said with a smirk, “Like I said, welcome to Hollywood.”

They drove through the wrought-iron security fence and began the slow crawl up the driveway.

“M-Miss Higurashi,” Hojo said, “I just wanted to say thank you for lunch today. And for being so patient with me thus far. I’m excited to learn from you all about what this job entails.”

“Please call me Kagome. We’re practically the same age, Hojo. And please don’t thank me.” Like, really. Don’t. 

When they walked through the front door, the place was empty. Kagome had a feeling Kikyou would be back any minute, though, so she told Hojo to have a seat in the living room and briskly walked to her room.

She was tossing more clothes into a ratty backpack when she heard the front door open again, and half-walked, half-ran down the hallway to see her older sister standing there, her luggage being carted in by the driver.

Kikyou, dressed in a lavender pantsuit and her gold Louboutins, immediately removed her sunglasses at the sight of Kagome.

“Kagome,” Kikyou said softly, looking a little bewildered at the sight of her.

Kagome wasn’t about to let her get a word in edgewise. “I’m getting some of my stuff. I’ll be back for the rest later. Also, Kikyou, I want you to meet Hojo. Your new assistant.”

Kikyou whirled around to see Hojo standing there, looking terrified and exhilarated and unsure of what to do with his hands. Her demeanor immediately flipped, of course.

“Hojo,” Kikyou said sweetly, taking his hand, “It’s lovely to meet you. I hope my sister’s taken good care of you thus far?”

“Oh,” Hojo said, still obviously starstruck and unable to transfer coherent thoughts into words, “Yes. Yes, of course!”

Kikyou gave him one of her trademark red carpet smiles, and Kagome could swear she watched him just melt .

“Do you want some coffee? Or some tea, maybe?” Kikyou was playing host now.

“S-sure,” he said.

“It’s in the kitchen,” Kikyou said, “Do you mind giving me a minute with my sister?”

So much for playing host, I guess.

Hojo simply nodded and wandered off in the general direction of the kitchen. He’d find it soon enough, Kagome figured. It wasn’t hidden down a long, dark hallway like the game room or the indoor gym or the swimming pool.

The second Hojo was out of earshot, Kikyou turned back to Kagome, twirling her thousand-dollar sunglasses in her hands like they were from the bargain bin at a Wal-Mart.

“So,” Kikyou said finally, “Inuyasha told me.”

“Inuyasha told you what, exactly?” Kagome snapped, folding her arms tightly, not in the mood for more bullshit.

“That the two of you have been seeing each other.” Kikyou stared straight at her, looking a little forlorn but remarkably calm and open.

Well, shit. She hadn’t been expecting that. Kagome fought not to look a little winded as she kept her composure and offered no response.

“You don’t have to worry,” Kikyou said gently as she stepped closer, “Inuyasha told me everything . He was very forthcoming when I asked him about it.”

“What do you mean, he told you ‘everything?’” Kagome held her posture as upright as possible as she felt Kikyou approach.

“I mean,” Kikyou said, seemingly weighing her words carefully before responding, “He told me it just sort of happened. In fact, I’m pretty sure those were his exact words.”

Kagome spun on her heel and turned back to walk to her room again. Kikyou followed her, moving slower.

“Kagome, wait. I said some things last night that I didn’t mean. Can you just please stop for a second and talk to me?”

Kagome stopped at her doorframe, leaning on it slightly and looking at her feet. “In vino veritas,” she said, “Isn’t that the expression? ‘In wine, there is truth?’” She let herself give out a small chuckle entirely devoid of humor.

“No!” Kikyou said, “I told you, I got carried away. I had too much champagne. I never meant to hurt you. You’re my baby sister.”

Kagome screwed her eyes shut as if in pain and glanced over her shoulder at Kikyou, very much confounded by this outpouring of emotion.

“And,” Kikyou’s eyes were welling with tears and her smile was wide and welcoming, “I’m so happy for you and Inuyasha. Coming together like that after all this time? I think it’s just adorable.”

“If you’re making fun of me,” Kagome said bitterly, “You can stop right now.”

“I promise, I’m not,” Kikyou said, and then her arms were around Kagome’s shoulders. 

Kagome just stood there and took the hug, unsure of what to do. “I’m still leaving,” she said softly, “I need to get on my own and think.”

Kikyou just nodded against the top of Kagome’s head. “Of course you do,” she said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Can you...leave me alone for a little while?” Kagome said, still refusing to return the hug. She felt a little dizzy and guilty and heartsick and she needed to get the hell out of this place.

“Of course,” Kikyou said kindly, “I’ll take charge of Hoho for the day. Don’t worry, I’ll ease him into things.”

“Hojo.”

“Isn’t that what I said? See you later. Don’t forget your interview with Yura is tomorrow morning, okay?”

She turned to leave, and then leaned back in for just a second.

“If you need to talk,” she looked at Kagome meaningfully, “just let me know, okay? I’m here for you.”

Kagome nodded mutely and shut her bedroom door, then began packing at furious speeds, throwing all her shirts and jeans into a haphazard pile in yet another scruffy duffel bag.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she picked up her phone and dialed it.

 


 

“Morning,” Miroku said, sweeping in to Inuyasha’s kitchen like a fucking hurricane. He had two gourmet coffees in his hands, one of which he handed to Inuyasha and the other he took the lid off of and proceeded to add a shitload of cream and sugar to, but not before sending Nazuna a flirtatious wink. She blushed and immediately left the room.

Inuyasha, freshly showered and dressed in a simple tee shirt and jeans, just grunted in reply, taking the coffee like he was on autopilot and staring at his phone with a glum look.

“Everything okay?” Miroku asked. Satisfied that his coffee was close enough to a milkshake to be drinkable now, he took a sip and plopped himself down next to Inuyasha.

“She’s not answering me,” Inuyasha said forlornly. Miroku nearly choked on his coffee. Shit, I forgot I blocked her number on his phone. Oh god, when he finds out he’s going to--

His own phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it.

Kagome? Oh god, she knows, she knows it was me who blocked her number. I’m dead. Dead and gone. If Inuyasha doesn’t make my head into a crater, she sure will. Goodbye, Sango, I very nearly loved you, and you can have my vinyl collection and all my unsmoked cigarettes-

“Hello?” he said, his voice smooth like honey.

“Miroku,” Kagome said, “I’m on my way to your place in a few minutes. I need somewhere to crash for the next few days.”

“Wait a second.”

“I’m sure you already know because you know everything, but Kikyou and I had a huge fight last night and I’m getting out of this house for a while.”

“Uh-” He turned to see Inuyasha staring at him with an eyebrow raised. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? My place?”

“Where else am I gonna go?”

“A hotel?”

“Yeah, like I won’t be immediately recognized and have the paps waiting outside my room door to ask what went wrong between me and Kikyou.”

She has a point.

“But why me? ” Miroku lamented, turning away and speaking in a hushed tone.

“Because you’re the only one I even half trust in this town,” Kagome said, “And because you owe me one for that whole business with Sango.”

“I had nothing to do with that!” A lie. He was as responsible for Sango turning power-mad as if he’d signed the deal himself. He groaned and ran a hand over his face.

Silence on the other end.

He sighed. “Okay, you win.”

“Sweet,” she said, “I’ll see you at your place in fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Well, the thing is,” he said, “I’m not exactly there right now. I’m with Inuyasha at his place.”

She didn’t skip a beat, this girl. “Oh, okay. I’ll head there instead. See you soon.”

“Uh, Kagome,” Miroku said, avoiding Inuyasha’s piercing, suspicious gaze, “Don’t you think it would be better if I just met you at my place?”

“Wait a second, that’s Kagome you’re talking to?” Inuyasha barked over his shoulder, “What’s this shit about meeting at your place? Let me talk to her.” He dove for the phone, but Miroku gracefully ducked out of the way.

“Am I or am I not doing a completely trashy, invasive interview with Yura Kaminoke tomorrow morning?” Kagome snapped on the other end of the line, “I can come to Inuyasha’s if I want to. Don’t worry, I’ll tip the driver super well and show up incognito. See you soon.”

“Give me the phone, Miroku!” Inuyasha snatched for it again.

Miroku was getting tired of feeling like an overworked single mom. “She’s gone already, Inuyasha,” he said, sidestepping once more and shoving his phone into his jacket pocket, “but if it makes you feel any better, she’s on her way here.”

“What?”

 


 

“Okay, you can stop here, thanks,” Kagome said, making sure to look busy with her notebook. Every inch the bedraggled, pigtailed, easily ignored assistant. The driver wasn’t even looking up. Perfect.

She handed him a crisp hundred dollar bill and an extra twenty for good measure, then got out, her three large bags making her stumble a little. Shrugging her sunglasses onto her face, she waited for the Uber to drive back through the gate and dragged her luggage to the front door.

She had barely touched the doorbell when Nazuna flung the door open, looking unbelievably excited. 

“Miss Kagome! So good to see you again, that explains why Mr. Takahashi ran to his room like a crazy person a second ago, he was yelling about having to change his clothes, oh here, let me help you with those!” Nazuna grunted at the weight of an errant duffel bag and helped to drag Kagome’s stuff through the entryway.

“Thanks,” Kagome said warmly, “You can just leave them here, I’m not staying.”

Nazuna’s face crumpled into a look of utter disappointment and she exhaled loudly.

Kagome couldn’t help the small laugh as she patted Nazuna’s shoulder. “So where are my boys?”

Nazuna just pointed her in the direction of the billiard room.

“Hello?” Kagome poked her head inside.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.” Miroku’s greeting could always be counted upon. He was leaning on the edge of the pool table, cue in one hand, whiskey on the rocks in the other.

“Miroku, it’s barely two in the afternoon,” Kagome said, reaching up to undo the girlish pigtails from her hair and running her fingers through it.

“I know, I know, late start for me, but don’t worry, I’ll catch up.” He smirked and downed the rest of his glass.

Kagome sighed and shook her head. “Where’s-”

She got the answer to her unasked question as a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders. With a sigh of happiness, she grinned and closed her hands over his.

“Hey there,” he said, arcing his neck around hers.

“Hey yourself,” she said, giving his hands an affectionate squeeze.

Miroku immediately got up to refill his drink.

Chapter 32: Ah, Sweet Whiskey

Summary:

In which there are differing opinions regarding Kikyou's newfound sincerity, Sango makes a dinner date and then almost immediately cancels it, and Miroku helps Kagome mix a cocktail.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ah, Sweet Whiskey

 

“So,” Kagome said to Inuyasha after a very long, very passionate kiss, “Kikyou knows about us?”

Miroku coughed into his whiskey, spilling some all over his new Ralph Lauren shirt. God dammit, why is this always happening to me?

Inuyasha just nodded, with a small shrug. “Yeah,” he said, tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear, “Seems like she maybe knew for a while? I’m not really sure. She just sort of came out and asked me about it.”

“And you confirmed it?” Miroku dabbed at his shirtfront with his sleeve. Fuck it, he would never have nice things with these people around. “Are you completely insane?

Inuyasha and Kagome both turned to him as if they’d just remembered he was there. Yeah, hi, I’m the guy whose job it is to fix all your problems and you keep creating new ones? I’m the guy who needs a goddamn vacation? Remember?

Kagome seemed to read Miroku’s mood first, and miraculously, she seemed to agree with him. “Yeah, that might not have been the smartest move, Inuyasha.”

“No, no, you don’t get it,” Inuyasha said defensively, “She was happy about it. Like, genuinely happy for us. Coulda knocked me over with a feather.”

Miroku buried his face in his hands.

“She was unusually nice to me when I went to get my stuff at the house today,” Kagome said with a puzzled-looking frown.

“It’s weird, right?” Inuyasha nodded enthusiastically, “But maybe she’s realized what a bitch she was being. Maybe getting away from the influence of that Naraku asshole has been good for her.”

“Okay, hold on,” Kagome said, stepping back from him a step or two, “Did you completely forget her actions last night? When she told me in no uncertain terms how she’d sold me out for press attention? That she wanted me out of her life because of pure fucking spite?”

“Whoa, what?” Miroku looked up from his fetal position.

“She was super drunk. She didn’t even remember anything until I told her off about it,” Inuyasha said, “And then she cried. She cried so hard, Kagome. She feels horrible. She even said you deserve to get away from her and stand on your own two feet because of how she’s treated you.”

“Wait,” Kagome said, her eyes lighting up with realization, “she made you feel sorry for her, didn’t she?”

Miroku would have scoffed at the way Inuyasha’s eyes widened with sheer fucking bewilderment, but that might have turned any of Kagome’s wrath toward him , and that just wouldn’t do. He took a generous sip of his whiskey and remained silent.

“She didn’t make me do anything, ” Inuyasha protested, “but you’re right, I did feel a little bad for her. Especially because…” He trailed off, cheeks reddening. “Never mind.”

Kagome’s eyes narrowed slightly. When she did that, she looked more like Kikyou than she ever did otherwise. “No, I want to know. Because what?”

Inuyasha rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Because she said...the way she acted last night...was out of misplaced drunken jealousy. Which she also apologized for. If she hadn’t been drunk she wouldn’t have freaked out.”

Kagome shot Miroku a brief look, a look that seemed to say “Am I fucking hearing this correctly? If not, feel free to intervene.”

“Inuyasha--” Miroku started to speak, but Kagome had evidently decided in that half a second that she didn’t need his help after all.

“And did she tell you how much she regretted losing you? Did she tell you she missed you?” Kagome’s tone was becoming steely.

“Wait a second, calm down,” Inuyasha said, reaching for her. She ducked out of his reach.

I’ll take ‘Things to Never Say to an Angry Woman’ for 2,000, Alex.

“Answer the question!” Kagome demanded, holding up her hands to keep Inuyasha from getting closer.

“She’s been going on and on about how much she’s missed me for weeks! ” Inuyasha spat, “I didn’t put any stock into it until--”

“Until last night?” Kagome finished softly.

“Wait a second,” Inuyasha said, clearly trying to reach for her again and getting rebuffed at every turn, “What is this? Why are you mad at me all of a sudden?”

“Oh, you know me,” Kagome said, “I’m a loose cannon, right? And you’re a fucking idiot, Inuyasha.”

Miroku wished he had some popcorn. He thought of texting Sango a play-by-play like he normally would, but then he remembered that he was still pretending to be busy right now.

Inuyasha was finally starting to get angry himself. Miroku could tell.

“Just because I said I felt a little sorry for her?”

“She’s playing you like a fucking fiddle,” Kagome said, “She knew just what to say to get you eating out of her fucking hand.”

“That’s not what happened!” Inuyasha roared, “I yelled at her for a good twenty minutes this morning over breakfast, and she immediately owned up and broke down over it. I felt like an asshole, frankly. All she wanted was to make things right with you, and I assumed when I left that she was going to try and do it. And then you just said she was trying to apologize at your house, right?”

Kagome pressed both hands to her temples. “You really do have a blind spot for her, don’t you? I should have known this would happen. She got you to spill all the details and then turned it back in her favor.”

“That’s not fair,” Inuyasha said, “I’m not stupid enough to--”

“Obviously, you are. And it’s fine. I’m stupid too. In that respect, we’re really quite perfect for each other.”

“Can I say something here?” Miroku said, moving to stand up.

“NO!” Inuyasha and Kagome both shouted in unison. Miroku sat back down. Ah, sweet whiskey, you’ll never yell at me like that. I should just drink you instead. He downed his second glass and refilled it.

“We had two months,” Kagome said softly, “Two months to try and get through, and then decide if we wanted to make a go of - whatever this between us is. And the second I leave, after pouring my heart out, no less, you immediately start falling for her bullshit.”

“She said nothing to me that wasn’t about being happy for us!” Inuyasha screamed, “And you’re one to talk about falling for bullshit. If I’m such a fool for believing she might be sincere, how come you followed her around like her loyal servant for the months she was cheating on me? Didn’t think you could have let me in on it? Or at least come to my defense, as I did with you?

Kagome’s eyes filled with fresh tears. Poor girl was probably getting dehydrated by now, with the events of the last few days.

“Would you have believed me?” she said quietly, “You don’t believe me right now. When it comes to Kikyou, you don’t seem to believe anyone until the truth slaps you in the face.”

“Kagome, listen,” Inuyasha said, his voice lowering, “I get that you feel sold out, I do. And you’re thinking Kikyou’s the devil incarnate and you feel paranoid and persecuted. But isn’t it a good thing that you’re getting out on your own? At the end of the day, does it matter if she’s sincere or not?”

“It matters to you, doesn’t it?” Kagome wiped at her eyes with obvious frustration that they were leaking without permission, then continued at his unsure silence. “See what I mean? Palm of her hand, Inuyasha. That’s you.”

Inuyasha growled, threw his pool cue onto the table, and stomped out of the room.

“I guess that’s our cue to leave,” Miroku stood up and realized three whiskeys in the span of about twenty minutes might not have been the best idea.

Kagome hugged her arms around her own shoulders and didn’t reply.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Miroku said, stumbling over to her and looping an arm around her, “I’ll get you set up in the guest room.”

“Give me your keys,” Kagome said, sniffling, “I’m driving.”

 


 

Kagome was able to bite back the tears long enough to get them onto the highway. Miroku was fiddling awkwardly with his phone, the other hand absently hanging out the passenger window, sailing with the cool winter breeze.

She still couldn’t believe what had just happened. Well, she could, but she supposed she’d deluded herself into believing it couldn’t be possible. Inuyasha taking sides with Kikyou despite all she’d done to both of them. One nice look and tearful apology and he was back in her clutches again.

“I think Inuyasha knows,” Kikyou said, blotting at her lipstick. She sat at the vanity table in their large on-set trailer, still in her bellydance costume.

“Knows what?” Kagome held out her arms, and Kikyou stood up to begin removing the skimpy outfit, draping each piece over Kagome’s waiting hands.

“About Naraku and me, silly.”

Kagome felt her stomach drop. Her face suddenly felt burning hot. Was she getting sick now, too?

“Wh-what are you talking about?”

Kikyou just gave her a smirk. “Oh, god,” she said with a laugh, “Do I have to explain the birds and the bees to you now, too? You’re almost twenty-three. I thought surely by this point, Kagome-”

“You and...that weird muscle guy? What?” Kagome knew she looked utterly scandalized. Her arms dropped a little.

“Don’t let that touch the floor!” Kikyou said, and Kagome sprang back upright. 

“And yes, is the answer to your question,” Kikyou pulled her silk robe on and fastened it almost giddily, “I think I may be falling for him, actually.”

“But-but Inuyasha-”

“Has been paying me virtually no attention lately,” Kikyou said with a small pout as she sat back down. Kagome, her hands shaking, turned to hang the costume on its hanger and then zip it into its protective bag.

“Did you even talk to Inuyasha about how you were feeling before you started going behind his back?” Kagome felt her tone sharpen, more so than it practically ever had before. She never talked back to Kikyou, not ever. She had to be getting sick.

“He’s on set practically the entire day,” Kikyou whined, “Even when I told him I was sick, he kept on filming. How do you think that makes me feel?”

Kagome didn’t reply, just closed her eyes and pictured Inuyasha’s huge grin at the joke she’d told him this morning about the bee and the bowl of punch. 

“Anyway, I’ll break it to him gently,” Kikyou continued, “He does deserve to know, but maybe not until we get home.”

“You’re going to tell him? Just like that? ‘Oh, sorry, honey, but I’ve been messing around on-set behind your back while you worked, hope we can still be friends!’”

“Don’t be obtuse,” Kikyou said snippily, “I’m just going to tell him I think we’re going in different directions and that the wedding’s off, at least for now.”

“What do you mean, ‘for now?’”

“I’m not giving the ring back, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Kikyou said, “But I want a break from him, anyway. He’s always acting so exhausted around me, like I’m some sort of chore to be around. Well, let him go without me for a few months. Let him see that thousands of men would kill to have me. Then he’ll see.”

Kagome felt the bile rising in her throat. She swallowed and slumped onto the nearest couch. “I feel sick,” she mumbled weakly.

“Oh, please,” Kikyou rolled her eyes, “Like you have any experience with this sort of thing. I’d be surprised if you did know about the birds and the bees, frankly.”

Kagome didn’t rise to the bait. 

“You’re just being sentimental, Kagome. It’ll be fine, really, I promise.”

“What will be fine?” Inuyasha opened the trailer door and walked inside, his hair covered in dust from the windy desert weather.

“Honey!” Kikyou jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, “I missed you!”

Inuyasha smiled at this seemingly unexpected surprise, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Likewise,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her.

Kikyou gave a small squeak of delight but pushed him away after just a few seconds. “Not until you shower, silly,” she said flirtatiously, “You look like a street urchin!”

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay,” he said, “I’m going, I’m going.” He turned to walk to the rear of the trailer where the bathroom was.

“I love you!” Kikyou called after him, then met Kagome’s eyes in the mirror and sat back down at the vanity with a scoff at the look on her sister’s face.

Kagome fought the lump in her throat and pulled into Miroku’s driveway.

 


 

 Sango was sitting at her desk planning world domination yet again when her phone lit up. Kikyou, huh? This should be interesting.

“Sango Ryoshi.”

“Sango, darling!”

“Hi, Kikyou. What can I do for you?”

“I need your help and expertise, desperately .

Flattery will get you everywhere. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“Kagome’s - sniffle - left the house. I don’t know where she’s gone. I tried to talk to her this morning and she wasn’t receptive. I’m stuck here - no, no,  black  tea, Hojo darling, with lemon -  and I don’t know what she’ll do. I think she found out that Inuyasha and I are - well, I shouldn’t say anything without asking him first, but suffice it to say I think she might do something rash.”

“No, she won’t,” Sango said with an irritated sigh, “She signed her contract this morning. She’s obligated to the studio for the remainder of Oscar season in exchange for a lifetime of obscurity afterwards. She knows what’s expected of her.”

“Oh, okay.” Sango could practically hear the sigh of relief on the other end.

“You were just calling to check that she’d signed the contract, right?”

“Sango, dear, you are way too smart for your own good.” A small giggle. 

“You could have just said that,” Sango griped, “My tolerance for bullshit small talk is very low today. I’d prefer in future that when you have something to ask, just come out and ask it.”

“Sorry, Sango. See you tomorrow for tea, perhaps?”

“I’ll have to check my calendar. Goodbye, Kikyou.”

She hung up the phone and pinched her nose in exasperation.

The phone buzzed again. It was Miroku. Sango ignored the thump of her heart in her chest as she opened the text message.

“Shit is going down. Nothing I can’t handle. Fill you in at dinner tonight. Make reservations wherever.”

There was a swell of excitement and, if she had to be honest, pleasure in her head as she turned to her laptop and looked up local hot spots. Finally, a date. A chance to get him back by her side. She’d missed him so terribly, not that she’d ever tell him that.

Just as she found the number of a swank little seafood place and was about to dial to make a reservation, her phone buzzed once more.

A little eager, are we, Houshi?  

She smirked, picking it up. “Hello?”

“Sango, honey?”

The smile died. “Mom.”

“We need you here as soon as possible. He’s had another bad night, and we just had another visit from your father-”

“I’m on my way,” Sango said, tossing her phone into her jacket pocket and bounding on the door, barely remembering to grab her purse and keys.

 


 

“So this is it,” Miroku said, dragging two of Kagome’s oversized, ratty duffel bags through his front door, “Not the Higurashi mansion, of course, but it’s in Bev Hills so it’s ridiculously expensive, I promise.”

“I like it,” Kagome said simply, dropping her third bag near the couch, “It’s very you. Especially the Farrah Fawcett poster on that door, there.”

“Hey, that’s an original!” Miroku smirked. “Come on, the guest room’s through here.”

“Can I have a drink?” Kagome’s eyes went to the bar.

Miroku blinked. “I thought it was too early. That’s what you said.”

“Well, it’s not too early anymore. Can I have a drink?” Kagome looked at him almost pleadingly. She looked tear-swollen and miserable.

“Sure,” he said, still a little hesitant, “I don’t have any beer but I’ll be sure and stock some up for you for the next couple days--”

“Liquor’s fine right now,” she said quietly, pulling out a highball glass and tossing what seemed to be random ingredients into it.

“What are you even making?”

“No idea. Something with alcohol?”

Miroku sighed. “Move,” he said, gently elbowing her aside, “If you’re going to get trashed, at least make a good cocktail. How about a whiskey sour?”

“Okay,” she said softly, stepping back and letting him expertly select from his vast collection. Watch the master at work, kid.

“I need ice,” he said, pointing vaguely over his shoulder, “Get a pitcher from the kitchen. Ice maker’s in the fridge door.”

“Roger that,” she said, sounding more lighthearted than she had for the past half hour and going to retrieve the ice.

Miroku artfully made a full pitcher of whiskey sours and poured two glasses, one for her and one for himself (hey, why shouldn’t he partake in his own bartending skills?).

“Thanks,” she said with a low-key smile as she took her drink, then almost immediately crumpled into tears, clapping a hand over her eyes.

“Geez, and I thought I was a good bartender,” Miroku chuckled, then held out an arm. “Come here, kid.”

Still sobbing, she stepped into his one-armed embrace, clutching her drink in one hand and his now utterly-ruined designer shirt in the other. 

“I’m-sob-sorry,” she mumbled, “I don’t know-sob-what’s wrong with me.”

“I do,” he said, patting her gently on the back, “You’re in love. I’d recognize the symptoms anywhere.”

“I don’t want to be anymore,” she said, shaking, “This wasn’t what I wanted at all. If I’d just kept my big mouth shut--”

“Sweetheart, if I know anything, and I do, because I’m a genius, he’s feeling about the same way right now. Trust me.”

“He’ll always-sob-be thinking about her, and I’ll always be-sob- wondering if he’s thinking about her, if he’s-sob-wishing it were her and not me…” She dissolved into an audible, choking series of gasps.

“Kagome,” Miroku used his one free hand to tilt her chin up and make her look at him, “He was with her eight years. And not once have I ever seen him as happy with her as he looks when he’s with you. Give it time. Kikyou will show her true colors sooner than you’d think, and he’ll realize he’s been an absolute idiot. And then you can lord it over him for the rest of eternity. That’s what women do, right?”

She gave a weak smile in spite of herself. “In the meantime, I have to go to the most intrusive interview of my life tomorrow and parade myself in front of the masses as the adoring kid sister.”

“Yeah,” Miroku said, releasing her chin and reaching into his pocket to check his phone. A text from Sango.

“I can’t tonight. Something’s come up. Sorry. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”

He grimaced at it, then replaced it in his pocket. “So you’ve got to whore yourself out to America’s Devil Press tomorrow,” he said to Kagome, clinking his glass with hers, “In the meantime, let’s get absolutely wasted.”

Kagome grinned. “Do you have any horror movies?” 

Chapter 33: Judas Priest And Lita Ford

Summary:

In which Miroku and Kagome's horror-movie-bro-bonding session continues, Inuyasha is wasted and annoying even Nazuna, and Kagome blurts out something awkward in her interview with the devil.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirty-Three

Judas Priest And Lita Ford

 

Ding-dong.

“Pizza’s here!” Kagome called to the kitchen, where Miroku was grabbing more ice. She heard him walk to the front door.

She sat on the very nice leather sofa, wearing a tee shirt and pajama bottoms and her hair in a bun, nursing her third drink of the evening and staring at the DVD menu for “The Shining” waiting for them to hit play.

Miroku reentered the room, dressed in his own comfortable robe and balancing three large pizza boxes, which he slid onto the coffee table. 

“What kind did you get?” Kagome said eagerly, all but pouncing on the boxes.

“I don’t remember,” Miroku slurred, “Hold on, ya filthy animal, let me at least get you a plate and napkins. You’re gonna ruin my couch.”

Kagome removed her hands from the pizza and held them above her head, taking another sip of her whiskey sour in the meantime.

Once they were properly outfitted with all the flatware and spill-proofing they’d need, Miroku flopped onto the couch beside Kagome and hit play on the remote.

“I love this fucking movie,” Kagome commented through a mouthful of cheese-and-sundried-tomato pizza. 

“It doesn’t suck,” Miroku said with a smirk, taking a huge bite of whatever monstrosity he’d ordered. It seemed to have mushrooms, bell peppers, and fresh jalapenos, among other things. Kagome didn’t envy his stomach lining.

They’d already gotten through the first third of the film when Kagome felt her phone go off. She jumped to answer it, and when Miroku laughed at her own eagerness, she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Oh,” she said, feeling slightly deflated as she checked the caller ID, “It’s just Kouga. Probably drunk-dialing again.”

Miroku raised an eyebrow. “Kagome Higurashi,” he said in a mocking, scandalized tone of voice, “You’re quite the little social butterfly, aren’t you?”

Kagome groaned. “Shut up,” she said.

“No, I’m serious!” He playfully elbowed her in the shoulder. “Not one, but two A-list actors vying for your attention? How do you manage it? Blackmail?”

“So help me, I will smother you in your sleep.”

He laughed and took another bite of pizza.

 


 

“Here are your cigarettes,” Nazuna said testily, tossing them across the kitchen island at him.

Inuyasha looked up from the bottle he was batting across the countertop from one hand to the other. “Thanks,” he muttered, opening the pack and lighting one. He was pretty damn drunk, and it was doing a fantastic job of numbing his soul right now, which felt like a fucking open wound. It felt like fucking road rash. Like someone had cut him open and poured lemon juice into the cut.

Was he being dramatic? Well, maybe. He was an actor, after all.

“Just do me a favor,” Nazuna said, dropping the car keys onto the table, “If you’re going to kill yourself, one, find a quicker way, and two, make sure you die outside so I don’t have to look at your corpse.”

Inuyasha scoffed. “Now you’re acting pissed at me,” he took a swig of the bottle, “Is this just I-Hate-Inuyasha Day, or what?”

Nazuna sniffed and said, “No. But I do hate what you’re doing to yourself. Have you even eaten anything in the last several hours?”

Inuyasha raised the bottle to answer her question, and she sighed.

“Alright, I’m making you a sandwich. For Miss Kagome’s sake. If you died of alcohol poisoning, she’d never come over anymore.”

Inuyasha scoffed, but there came the pain train again. He tried calling her again. No answer. No way to leave a message.

He buried his head in his hands.

 


 

“So that’s where I’m at right now,” Miroku said, taking another swig of his whiskey sour, “Hopelessly attached to a woman who’s hopelessly attached to the job . I’m not sure which of us wins the misery game, but we’re close, right?”

Kagome was actually on the verge of tears again. “That’s - oh my god, that’s so sad , Miroku!”

The movie played on in the background, long since forgotten. Miroku took a drag of his cigarette. “You’re telling me,” he said grumpily, “It’s all my fault she’s like this. I taught her how to play the dirty game. I just never thought that a girl that young and inexperienced would take to it like a fish to water the way she has.”

“So she’s ignoring you now?”

“We’re both sort of skirting the issue,” Miroku said, “But it’s fine. I’m sure eventually she’ll miss me. Or she’ll delete my number from her phone altogether. One or the other.”

Kagome’s lips were curled into a pout of true sympathy. “Oh god, Miroku. I’m sorry,” she said, flopping back drunkenly into a reclined position on the couch, “I have to say, you’ve been a lot less power-mad and dangerous this season than you ever have been.”

Miroku disappeared behind a cloud of smoke. “Getting to know Sango, it was like, I was suddenly ashamed of who I was. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still the best, and I’m a heartless bastard, but…” He trailed off for a moment. “She makes me want to be better. For her sake as well as mine. And I want her to be better too.”

Kagome all but squealed. “God, that was a good line. Yours?”

“All mine. Best talker in the biz, kid, remember?”

She giggled and took another sip of her own drink.

“I’m still a little mad at her,” she confessed, “but hearing you explain it from your end makes me...well, it makes me understand her a bit better, if that makes sense.”

“For all her posturing and skill, she’s still a kid too,” Miroku said, “She’s going to learn eventually that you can’t get so emotionally involved or obsessed with outcomes. That’s a bad habit when paired with ambition like she’s got.”

“Yeah,” Kagome said, and they both fell silent for a while.

“Anyway,” Miroku said, “You tell anyone what I just said about wanting to be a better man, and I swear I’ll retroactively amend your contract to include televised appearances every single year for the rest of your life.”

“Good luck with that,” Kagome smirked, “I’m getting the hell out of this town after all this. I’ll send you a postcard every Christmas, though.”

 


 

“Morning, Kagome.” Sango was there to greet her at the door of the TV studio, holding out a coffee. Her entire manner was utter friendliness. Kagome knew she still felt bad about what she’d done and was going overboard to make up for it.

“Thanks,” Kagome said gently, taking the coffee and sipping it. Anything to soothe this aching head of hers. Maybe she could do the whole thing in her sunglasses? Eh, probably not. Oh well.

Before Sango could say anything more, Yura Kaminoke, dressed entirely in hot pink, all but ambushed her.

“Good morning, dear!” Yura threw her arms around Kagome’s shoulders and gave her extremely loud air-kisses on the side of each cheek, “It’s so good to see you! Love that outfit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Kagome said dully, looking briefly down at herself. Miroku had suggested dressing up as Kagome-like as possible (“Send the message that you’re the one doing her a favor, not the other way around,” he’d said), which meant a full-black ensemble of black skinny jeans (ripped at the knees of course), black skull-print tank top, and her trusty old combat boots. Kagome shrugged off her leather jacket and draped it over a nearby couch, dropping her backpack next to it.

“Let’s get you into hair and makeup,” Yura said, looping her arm through Kagome’s, “I’m just so excited! I get to introduce you to the world, properly this time!”

Kagome forced a smile on her face.

“So we’re definitely on board with the whole punk-rock, heavy metal styling thing you’ve got going on here,” Yura looked her up and down, “It’s a good contrast to your, shall we say, more glamorous big sister?”

Kagome shoved her hands into her pockets and didn’t reply.

“This is Mayumi,” Yura pointed out a girl barely out of her teens wearing a belt with all manner of hair and makeup tools tucked in it, “She’ll take good care of you. Mayu, I want her looking like a rock goddess. Understood?”

Mayumi looked way too excited for her own good as she gently ushered Kagome into the makeup chair.

 


 

“Okay, so I’m sure you’ve seen how this works,” Yura said, sitting in front of Kagome and crossing her legs, a notepad in her lap. “I ask you questions, and for editing purposes, try to remember to rephrase the question in your answer, okay?”

Kagome, her hair twisted and braided into almost Viking-style plaits, her eyes ringed with smoky black, simply nodded and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.

“You look amazing, by the way!” Yura seemed very eager to kiss her ass. “We didn’t even need to style your clothes at all! You’ve got quite the personal style, don’t you?”

“That’s certainly one way of putting it,” Kagome said with a small smile, “My sister would call it ‘trashy.””

Yura gave a polite laugh and quickly turned to her notepad. “All right, Kagome, let’s get started.”

“Five, four, three…” The cameraman counted down.

“...Good afternoon, all you lovely people at home! I’m Yura Kaminoke, sitting here with the girl everyone’s been talking about for weeks - Kikyou Higurashi’s baby sister, Kagome Higurashi! Thanks for being here, Kagome!”

“Thanks for having me,” Kagome said warmly. Just off the set, right behind Yura’s right shoulder, Sango gave her a grin and a thumbs up.

“So the first question I have for you is what’s been on everyone’s mind - just where in the world have you been hiding?”

Kagome fought back a laugh. “Uhm…” She glanced at Sango, who nodded for her to continue. “Well, until recently I was employed as my sister’s assistant, so now that I’m about to move away, Kikyou wanted me by her side during this year’s awards season.”

Sango looked a little surprised at the ‘about to move away’ part, but Yura pressed on.

“How sweet! What’s it like, being Kikyou Higurashi’s younger sister?”

Sango mimicked pointing a gun at her own head and blowing herself away and Kagome couldn’t help but smile brightly.

After what seemed like thousands of questions about Kikyou, about Inuyasha, about Kikyou and Inuyasha together, about her favorite ‘Kikyasha’ movie, and on and on and on, Yura finally leaned in. “Okay, Kagome, that’s the important stuff out of the way. This next part’s all about you. I’m going to send you some rapidfire questions. Don’t think too hard, this is all lighthearted fun, all right?”

Nothing you do is ever lighthearted fun. “Okay.” Another warm smile. Killin’ it.

“Chocolate or vanilla?” Yura began.

“Chocolate.” You should win a Peabody Award for reporting. Fuck Syrian refugees, you’ve got the real news here, don’t you?

“Favorite movie?”

“‘The Fifth Element.’”

“Not one of your sister’s films?” Yura looked a little downtrodden.

Kagome swallowed. “Well, I doubt she’d name one of her films as her favorite, either. It’s very different when you’re on-set making the thing every day, right?”

Yura sniffed. Sango just nodded at Kagome and shot her a wink. Kagome couldn’t help the smile.

“Bucket list goals?”

“I want to be a photographer. And live in paradise.” Her smile turned into a grin.

“Fashion inspiration?” 

“...Judas Priest and Lita Ford.”

Yura blinked, then continued. Over her shoulder, Sango raised her eyebrow and smirked.

“Ooh, here’s a good one. Celebrity crush?” Yura’s eyes glinted hungrily. Sango’s eyes widened to the size of teacup saucers.

Oh god oh god oh god INUYASHA no I can’t say that Yura’s gonna try to spin this to her advantage so it should be someone I know at least a little Leo DiCaprio no I’d have to meet him at the Oscars and that would be so awkward hmmm Jason Momoa no he’s married that’s so rude who do I say who do I say - 

“Kouga Okami.” Oh, shit. Now I done did it.

“REALLY?” Yura looked like a great white shark who’d just smelled blood. “You don’t say! You went with him to the Hollywood Film Awards a few weeks ago, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did,” Kagome rushed to recover, “We’re really good friends.”

“But you have a crush on him, do you?” 

“Uh-”

“That’s so sweet! You actually look great together.”

“I-”

“Anyway, moving on,” Yura ticked down her list. Kagome glanced at Sango, who was looking like she could be knocked over with a feather.

 


 

“God dammit,” Kagome said, taking refuge in her coffee as she and Sango stood in the elevator making their escape, “Did I really just say that?”

“Yeah, why did you say that?” Sango pulled out her phone to text Miroku...something. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, which wasn’t anything new. She put her phone back in her pocket.

“It was the first name that came to mind!” Kagome growled, “I can’t exactly name who it really is, or you’ll have an even bigger mess to clean up and you might turn on me again.”

Sango winced slightly. Kagome obviously still wasn’t eager to think very highly of her even though they were now on at least cordial terms.

“Listen,” she said, “Don’t worry about this. This is a little blurb that will run for all of three minutes on Yura’s pre-awards show. It’s not like anyone’s going to be paying too much attention.”

I think. I hope.

“Anyway,” Sango said, “Do you have a dress for the LA Critics Awards?”

“Not yet,” Kagome said, “But I assume you have some ideas?”

Sango swallowed. “I do.”

“Alright, I’ll bite. What are your thoughts, Sango?” Kagome leaned against the elevator wall, an eyebrow raised.

“Well,” Sango said, feeling that awkward tension rear its ugly head, “Since the narrative is now that you’re the alternative, rebellious, rocker sister, why not actually own it? Show up in that dress you wore to the premiere afterparty. No one in the press saw you in it, and even if they did, it’s a nice look to be thrifty when everyone else is wearing dresses that cost more than cars.”

“I can’t exactly do that,” Kagome said, “Not after what I just said about Kouga on TV.”

“Why not?” Sango asked. The elevator dinged and they both walked into the studio lobby.

“Because,” Kagome said, looking sheepish, “that dress was a gift. From Kouga.”

Sango stopped walking. “What?”

“Yeah. For some reason I don’t think calling him my celebrity crush on Yura’s program and then wearing the dress he bought me to these very public awards would give him the right impression. Or give anyone else the right impression, either.” Kagome slipped her sunglasses back onto her face. 

Sango’s immediate first instinct was to tell Kagome to go ahead and wear the dress. That would at least turn the press attention away from what were sure to be awkward moments between Inuyasha and Kagome that night and instead run with a cute little mutual crush storyline instead.

She looked up and saw that Kagome was standing there, her arm up to hail a cab, staring straight at Sango with a stony look on her face, almost like she had seen the wheels turning in Sango’s head. In her all-black ensemble with her hair wild and braided, Kagome looked so fucking cool right now. Self-confidence was a good look on her.

“You know,” Kagome said, “I’ll be very excited when I’m done with all this and gone forever. You and I could have been good friends if you weren’t constantly trying to sell me out.”

She got into the cab and drove away, leaving Sango standing there feeling like a speck of dust that wanted to just blow away in the wind.

 


 

“Can I just talk to her for two seconds, please? She’s not answering any of my calls or texts.”

“No can do, Inuyasha.” Miroku grabbed a slice of leftover pizza out of the fridge and flopped onto the couch. He was still in his pajamas at three pm. Today was a good day. “She’s not here. She went to the Yura interview this morning.”

The door opened and Kagome walked in, looking positively fantastic.

“What did you do to your hair?” Miroku asked through a bite of pizza, a bemused look crossing his face.

Kagome smirked at him. “It wasn’t me. Looks pretty dope though, huh?”

“If I were a lesser man I would fall at your feet.”

“Wait a second, is that Kagome? Miroku LET ME TALK TO HER!”

Miroku held up his phone. “It’s Inuyasha,” he said to Kagome.

Kagome’s smile fell and she immediately once again looked like the shy, unsure Kagome he was used to.

“He wants to talk to you,” Miroku said with a shrug.

Kagome’s eyes filled with tears and she reached out to take the phone.

Chapter 34: Purple Orchids

Summary:

In which Inuyasha sets out to get his girl back and gets a little help from the weirdest source, Sango's weak spot is revealed, and Miroku is still eating pizza.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirty-Four

Purple Orchids

 

“Hello?” Kagome’s voice was suddenly not working so well.

“Can I see you? Please?”

Kagome swallowed. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “We’re supposed to stay away from each other regardless.”

“You’re at Miroku’s place, right? I’ll come over there. Please, Kagome.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then glanced at Miroku, who was sprawled out on his couch eating pizza like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

“I-”

“Please, just wait there for me, okay? I have to tell you something and I can’t do it over the phone. It doesn’t feel right. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I promise.”

“Okay,” she said, tears brimming in her eyes, smiling despite herself, “I’ll wait. See you soon.”

She hung up the phone, tossing it back to Miroku, who caught it deftly without even looking up.

“Well,” Miroku said, “Guess I’d better get dressed since we’re having company over.” He shot her a very significant smirk.

Kagome let out a breath and with it a rush of laughter. “Shut up,” she said, running a hand through her wildly styled hair.

 


 

“Sango, honey.”

Sango looked up, her face in her hands. It was her mom, looking just as exhausted, holding out a styrofoam cup full of cheap hospital coffee. Sango took it gratefully, blowing on it once before taking a sip. It was still a bit too hot, but Sango figured she could use the shock to her system anyway. She’d been up all night and she still had so much to do for work.

Her mother sat next to her, eyes trained on the hospital bed in front of them. “I think the worst has passed, honey. Why don’t you go on home? If he wakes up later, I’ll let you know.”

Sango just took another sip of the middling coffee and said nothing, refusing to budge.

What if he wakes up just as I’m leaving and I’m not here?

As if sensing her daughter’s hesitation, her mother looped a thin arm around Sango’s shoulders. “The doctors have done all they can for now, sweetheart. You really should rest. After all, don’t you have a big awards ceremony in a few days? Gotta get your beauty sleep so you look pretty while you practically run a studio.”

Sango allowed herself to chuckle weakly. “Mom, I’m just the lead press agent. I have nothing to do with any of the actual running of the studio.”

“Well, whatever,” her mom squeezed her shoulder, “I’m still just so proud of you I could burst. You’ve always been so strong. I just knew someday you’d get to the top.”

Sango blushed a little and leaned her head on her mom’s shoulder. “Honestly, I think I’ve gone a little too far lately. I’ve just been so obsessed with getting you out of this-”

“Sango, stop it,” her mom admonished, “If you’re exhausting yourself for my sake, don’t. We’ll be okay.” She smiled, but it was a weak one, and the lines around her mother’s eyes were so very visible at the moment. 

“If you’d just let me move you into my apartment-”

“And leave the home my father built? The home where you were raised? Not on your life. It’ll work out eventually. Stop taking so much of this onto yourself, sweetheart.”

Like I ever had a choice. If I don’t protect you, who will?

“If he comes by again,” Sango ground out, reaching into her purse for her checkbook and scribbling out a dollar amount, “Give him this. Tell him to leave you alone from now on. And don’t give him an inch, Mom. You know how he is.”

“Sango, no,” her mom read the contents of the check and then stared at her, eyes wide, “This is too much. You can’t be making that much-”

“I have the money,” Sango said, “I just negotiated some bigtime contracts at work. I get a decent percentage. Please just take it.”

As if the check were made of pure gold, her mom gently placed it in her pocket.

“I think I will go home now,” Sango said, keeping her voice light and airy as if she hadn’t just emptied her bank account with one check, “Gotta get rested and go make the big bucks, right?”

Her mother said nothing, just looked at her with tears forming in the corners of her careworn eyes.

“I’ll see you later.” Sango stood up, looped her purse around her shoulder, and kissed the top of her mom’s head. Then she turned to the small boy in the hospital bed, laying there comatose, his head shaved and his eyes ringed with dark purple. She bent over him and kissed him gently on the cheek.

“See you soon, Kohaku. And you better be awake next time I visit, or you’re not getting that Lego set I promised you for your birthday.”

She turned and quickly left the room, blinking back tears and wiping them away fiercely.

 


 

Inuyasha had never been so unsure of what to wear before. He stood in his rather spacious closet, freshly showered and in a towel, debating between the casual tee shirt and jeans and the nice daytime suit. Would the suit be too much? Like he was trying too hard?

  Well, you were the one who fucked up, weren’t you?

He sighed, grabbing the jeans and tee shirt. Kagome wouldn’t care what he was wearing. She cared what he had to say.

What was he going to say? He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He just knew that a few more hours without word from her and he would have sunk even deeper into that bender. He knew she was pissed at him for defending Kikyou, and he still didn’t quite know what to say to that. He understood that she was upset, that she saw it as a betrayal, but wouldn’t things be better in the long run if they all just got along?

Once his clothes were on, he grabbed his phone from the charger and shoved it into his back pocket. Just as he did so, it rang.

“Hello?” He answered without even looking to see who it was. “Kagome?”

“Wrong sister, honey.”

“Kikyou,” he said, sitting sheepishly on his bed and running a hand through his damp hair, “I’m kind of on my way out the door right now-”

“How’s my sister?” Her voice was tinged with genuine concern.

“Fine, I think,” Inuyasha said.

“What do you mean, ‘you think?’ Isn’t she with you right now?”

“No,” he said with more impatience than he probably should have, “She’s staying...uh...she’s staying with friends right now.”

“Not with you?”

“No.”

There was a pronounced pause. “...Is everything alright with you two?”

What a perfectly awkward question to ask. 

“It’s fine,” Inuyasha said, “Everything is fine.”

“Oh, good,” she said, “Kagome seemed so angry the other day, even though I was trying to just talk to her. I want to mend whatever it is I’ve done, but getting her to open up is so hard.

“Yeah.” Inuyasha could offer no better reply than the one he gave.

“Were you just leaving to meet her?”

“I was, yeah.”

“Oh god.” She sounded almost scandalized. “I’m so sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Are you okay?” he asked before his brain caught up to his mouth.

Another pause. “Yeah…” she said before trailing off, but there was a broken tone to her voice that he knew he couldn’t have mistaken.

He sighed. “Kikyou, listen-”

“No, no, please stop. Go take her to dinner, okay? And buy her dark purple orchids. They’re her favorite.”

“Huh,” he said, “How do you know that?”

“She’s my sister. Trust me, I know. Now go make her happy!” There was another small crack in her voice, but she didn’t seem to acknowledge it.

“Well...thanks?” Inuyasha wasn’t bothered to examine this much harder, but he knew if he did he’d come back up more confused and torn than when he’d started on this whole misadventure.

“Tell her I miss her, okay? Nothing more than that. If she knew I’d been talking to you, oh god… She trailed off, and by the tone of her voice he could just picture her turning red with embarrassment. Kikyou Higurashi, embarrassed. It was a chilly day in hell.

“Alright,” he said, balancing the phone on his shoulder as he pulled on his socks, “I’ll tell her. And thanks for the tip.”

“Anytime,” she said, “I’ll see you at the LA Film Critics Awards, okay? By the way, I’m wearing gold. Just so you know.”  

He chuckled. “Gold is fine. I’ll make sure to match. Gotta get the good pictures, right?”

She laughed on the other end. “See you in a few days.”

He hung up the phone and resumed putting on his shoes. Then he put in a call to the nearest flower shop and asked for purple orchids.

 


 

“Want some leftovers?” Miroku opened the fridge, motioning to the stacks of leftover pizza boxes.

Kagome checked her reflection in the hallway mirror, trying not to fuss over herself more than usual but failing. “I’m good, thanks.”

“You look fine,” Miroku said pointedly, grabbing himself another slice. “Good enough for Inuyasha, I’m sure.”

“Are you ever going to stop teasing me about this?” she giggled.

“Nope.” He took a monstrous bite and leaned against his kitchen counter.

Kagome rolled her eyes and fluffed up her already intensely-curled, voluminous hair once more. She walked into the kitchen and posted up next to him, arms folded around her shoulders.

There was a few moments of silence.

“He’ll be here, right?” Kagome said, hanging her hair in front of her face to hide the blush, “He promised.”

“He’ll be here,” Miroku said through a mouthful of pizza, dribbling sauce down his chin, “Trust me.”

Kagome looked at him and laughed. “And I thought I was bad,” she said, grabbing a paper towel and stuffing it down the front of his button-up shirt.

“It’s good!” he protested.

The phone on the wall rang out, and Miroku picked it up before Kagome could spring to grab it. “Yeah?” he said, wiping the corners of his mouth on the paper towel.

There was a moment of silence. Kagome felt her stomach seize up in anticipation. Miroku said “Okay, send him up,” and replaced the phone on the receiver.

“He’s here.”

Kagome let out a great whoosh of breath and tried to make herself look casual, but it was too much to bear when there was a knock soon after at the apartment door. She practically raced to open it, ignoring Miroku’s snort of laughter.

And there Inuyasha stood, wearing a leather jacket, tee shirt and jeans, holding a small sprig of purple orchids limply at his side. His eyes immediately met hers, and she felt herself gulp.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” she replied, even softer.

“Hi, Inuyasha,” Miroku gave a half-assed wave as he disappeared down the hallway, pizza in hand.

Inuyasha looked at her with slight confusion, and she shook her head as if to say “Don’t worry about it.”

He seemed to remember himself, and held up the small bouquet of orchids. “For you,” he said, as if that needed saying, “As apologies for being...well, insensitive.

Kagome took them, delighted. “These are my favorite!”

He didn’t say anything, just smiled slightly at the pleased look on her face.

“I got these once from my mom,” she said softly, cradling the flowers close to her face and inhaling the sweet scent, “When I won the photography contest for the local paper. Before we moved to Hollywood. Lucky guess for you, huh?”

“Not really,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Kikyou told me they were your favorite.”

A pause. “...She did?” Kagome would have been less shocked if he’d admitted to something more...sordid.

“She did.”

Kagome furrowed her brow, looking at the flowers, then back at him.

“She told me to go see you and fix all this.”

Kikyou’s giving you dating advice when it comes to me? What the hell does she know? So you’re telling Kikyou all of our dirty laundry? Since when are you two bosom buddies? She felt a little spiteful spark welling inside of her and pushed it back down. Down, girl. He’s obviously trying to fix things. Let him try, at least. Keep that temper in check.

“Come on in,” she said, stepping back to let him inside.

“I’d rather not,” he said, “Not when Miroku’s leaning against the wall listening to everything we’re saying.”

“I am not!” Miroku said from behind the wall, and there was a scuffling sound.

Kagome rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

“Come on,” Inuyasha said, holding out a hand, “I’m taking you to dinner.”

“What?” Kagome said, eyes widening, “You can’t! What if we’re spotted?”

“Ah,” he said, pulling a baseball cap out of his inner jacket pocket and putting it on his head, “I’ve already thought of that. We just have to drive far enough.”

Kagome fought the thump of her heart and just let herself smile hesitantly. “Okay,” she finally said, turning to gently place the orchids on the coffee table, then taking his hand slowly.

 


 

The door shut.

“Are you gone?” Miroku said, wiping the last of the pizza sauce off of his face from his perch against the hallway wall.

No answer. 

“So I changed for no reason,” he muttered to himself, walking back into the kitchen for another slice. Best to just spend this day eating and smoking. That sounded like a plan to him.

The wall phone rang again.

“What now,” Miroku griped, grabbing it, “Yes?”

“A ‘Sango Ryoshi’ to see you, Mr. Houshi. Should I let her up?”

Fuck yes.

“Sure,” he said, clearing his throat, “Send her up.”

Chapter 35: Scream Until We're Hoarse

Summary:

In which Sango shows up seeking comfort in Miroku's pants, Inuyasha is the cleverest smartest most charming date planner ever, and Kagome declares herself ready to fight through the looming storm.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirty-Five

Scream Until We're Hoarse

 

Miroku had barely hung up the phone when he heard the knock on his front door. He rushed to the door, took a breath to collect himself, then swung it open.

“Sango,” he said suavely, moving to lean oh so flirtatiously against the doorframe, “What brings you here-”

He was cut off as she collided into him, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him so hard he swore he felt his lips actively bruising. She pawed at his clothes, pulling at the buttons of his shirt.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, trying to back away, but she just grabbed his collar and pulled him closer, burying her face in his neck and kissing his pulse point. They both collided with the couch and fell, Sango pulling herself onto his lap and resuming trying to pull his clothes off by sheer force.

“Not that I’m...complaining…” Miroku was starting to lose his train of thought as he used every amount of strength in his wrists to pull her off of him, “But what the hell’s gotten into you?”

“Don’t talk,” she said, her eyes hidden by her bangs as she fought his grip around her forearms, “Just...just…”

She dissolved into quiet sobs and collapsed onto his chest, burying her face in his half-open shirt.

He immediately folded his arms around her and held her tightly, confused as all hell but more focused on letting her calm down.

“Sango,” he said softly, leaning his cheek into the top of her head, “What’s going on, babe?”

She just kept softly crying for a few moments before she looked up at him, her brown eyes shining with tears.

“Just...hold me for a little while?” Her cheeks flushed pink and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just because they were streaming with tears.

“As long as you need,” Miroku said softly, and when she leaned in to kiss him again, it was soft and gentle and tender.

 


 

“Hold still,” Kagome muttered, running her fingers through Inuyasha’s hair as she pulled it into a braid.

“You’re pulling!” he griped, leaning his head awkwardly from his position in the driver’s seat.

“It’ll hurt worse if you keep trying to jerk away from me!” Kagome couldn’t help the smile as she wove the silver strands. “Geez, your hair is soft. It’s not fair. Mine is always a frizz fest.”

“I use obscenely expensive shampoo. Head and Shoulders.” he grumbled, but his tone had softened.

“I remember,” she said softly, “Okay, finished!”

He replaced his baseball cap on his head and checked his own reflection in the rearview mirror. “Alright,” he said, smirking at her, “Am I sufficiently incognito?”

Kagome realized she was staring for a second and blinked herself out of it. “I don’t think you’ll ever be incognito,” she said, leaning back in her seat, knowing her face had to have the goofiest, dreamiest expression and not being able to do much about it, “Not with that hair, anyway.”

He grinned at her and her heart seemed to swell to just about bursting.

“So where are we going?” she said quickly.

Inuyasha started the car and pulled out of the parking space. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, “How about San Diego?”

Kagome blinked. “Inuyasha, that’s a two-hour drive.”

“Good thing we’re starting early then, huh?” He tapped the clock on the dashboard, which read just past four o’clock.

Kagome couldn’t help the smile this time.

“Oh, here,” he said, reaching into the backseat with one hand while keeping his eyes trained on the road, “A snack to tide you over, if you want.” He dropped a small plastic bag onto her thighs.

“You got me Gummi Bears?”

“Yep.”

Kagome just stared into her lap. “Did Kikyou tell you these were my favorite, too?”

She swore she heard him audibly swallow. “No,” he said insistently, “I know your favorites are Sour Patch Kids but they didn’t have any at the gas station. Give me a little credit here, kiddo.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, “Sorry. But how did you know I’d even come with you? What if I’d refused to even talk to you?”

He pulled up to a stoplight, then turned to look at her. There was an almost sad look in his eyes for a second, his mouth in a straight line.

Then he gently grabbed her under the chin and pulled her mouth to his. She squeaked in surprise, then fell limp, leaning over the center console as the kiss deepened.

“HONK!”

They flew apart and Inuyasha screeched away from the green stoplight at breakneck speed.

Kagome laughed, running a hand through her wild hair. “Don’t think every time I get mad at you that you can just kiss me and make it all better.”

“Why not?” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, an obviously self-satisfied grin plastered all over his stupid face.

She rolled her eyes and opened the bag of Gummi Bears. “We still need to talk about...well, everything.” She popped one into her mouth.

“I know, I know. But not now. Wait til we get there, okay?” Inuyasha punched a button on the radio. Heavy metal music roared into life.

“Wait…” Kagome said, immediately recognizing the guitar sound, “Is this their new album?

Inuyasha just grinned, eyes on the road. “I may have called in a favor and gotten a copy before it’s officially released.”

Kagome’s eyes widened and she immediately sat up, as if that would help her hear the music better.

He leaned over towards her and for a second she thought he might try to kiss her again, a prospect which wasn’t wholly unwelcome, but, well, he was driving.

“Gimme a Gummi Bear,” he said, opening his mouth.

She couldn’t help it, she laughed again and obliged him by dropping one into his mouth.

“Thanks, gorgeous.”

Okay, talk about fifty shades of red.

 


 

“So do you want to talk about it?” Miroku said, kissing the top of Sango’s head. They were laying in his bed, the setting sun streaming through the crack in the curtains.

Sango just shrugged, her head laying on his chest. “Bad day, that’s all.”

“Sango, babe, it’s me. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”

“Please stop asking me.” She shifted in his arms uncomfortably, but seemed hesitant to break any skin-to-skin contact.

Miroku sighed and gently pushed her off of him, sitting up to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He reached for his cigarettes and lit one.

“What was it you were going to tell me yesterday at dinner?” Sango asked, her voice sounding somewhat meek.

“Inuyasha and Kagome had kind of a falling out over Kikyou. It seemed really bad, but then again, he just showed up and whisked her away to dinner, so maybe they’re working things out in their own way.”

“He what? ” There was a rustling sound as she sat up behind him.

Miroku held up a hand without turning around. “I don’t need any shit from you about this. I’ve made the decision. I’m letting nature take its course and not interfering anymore. That just leaves everyone hurting.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Had his tone been too snappish? Maybe. But he was feeling frustrated in more ways than one. If you won’t open up to me, why should I do the same for you?

“So what was the fight about?” Sango said softly, sliding up next to him. Her motions were halting, almost hesitant.

“Kikyou.”

“You already said that,” she said quietly. Normally she’d have a biting or witty remark to follow up with, but she kept her eyes trained on the floor in front of the bed.

“Kikyou is apparently fine with Inuyasha and Kagome getting together. Encouraging them both. At least, that’s what Inuyasha seems to believe. Kagome...well, let’s just say she disagreed strongly.”

“No shit, she disagreed strongly. Kagome knows more than most what Kikyou’s capable of,” Sango said, “Kikyou called me at the office the other day just to check that Kagome had signed the studio contract. That she’s completely bound to her sister’s side for the next few months.”

“Not surprised,” Miroku said, offering his smoke to her. She took it and handed it back after a single drag. “So Kagome’s staying here for the foreseeable future. I think she just had to get out of that house.”

Sango blinked. “Kagome’s staying... here? ” She looked around. “With you?

“What’s the matter, Sango?” Miroku asked, leaning back on his hands, cigarette dangling from his lips, “Jealous?”

Her eyes widened and a pink flush washed over her face. “Jealous? Hardly. You’re the one who always calls her a kid.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Miroku said casually, “She’s certainly blossomed over the past few weeks. I wouldn’t mind giving that a try sometime.”

“Houshi,” Sango said, folding her arms, “Shut the fuck up.” Her eyes were narrowed in a death glare.

Miroku couldn’t help the grin that sprang to his face. “You are jealous!” he said, stubbing out the cigarette in the bedside ash tray and all but tackling her to the bed, “You like me. Admit it.”

She struggled underneath him, fighting not to meet his eyes. Her face was completely red now. 

“Just admit it,” he said into her ear, “Admit that you like me. Admit that you missed me, even if just a little.”

“I didn’t,” she said, head turned pointedly to the side, “I’m just using you for the sex.”

He grabbed her chin and turned her to face him.

“You’re a liar,” he whispered against her mouth.

 


 

“Okay, do you want a burger or chicken nuggets?” Inuyasha rolled the window down as they pulled into the drive-thru.

“Uh, Inuyasha,” Kagome said, propping up her head on her elbow, leaning against the passenger side window, “When you said you were taking me to dinner, I didn’t think we’d be driving all the way to San Diego for some Wendy’s.”

“Why not? Don’t you like cheeseburgers?” He put on his best pouty face.

She looked utterly confounded and he was loving every second of it. “Sure, sure I do…” she said, staring at him like she was worried he’d had a traumatic head injury.

“So burger or chicken nuggets?”

When they’d ordered and pulled up to the window to pay, the young fast-food worker did a double take when he saw Inuyasha.

As he handed them their bag of food and their two sodas, he seemed to work up the courage to speak up. “Does anyone ever tell you that you look just like-”

“Yeah,” Inuyasha said with a grin, “I get that all the time. Comes in handy with the ladies. I just wish I had as much money as he does, you know?”

The kid’s embarrassment fell away and he laughed. “You should do professional impersonations! Have a great night.”

He pulled the car into the parking lot and began divvying out the burgers and fries.

“We’re just eating in the car?” Kagome said, her mouth already full of french fries. No one could resist the pull of french fries.

“Yep. We’ve got about…” Inuyasha glanced at the dashboard clock again, “...twenty minutes to kill.”

“Okay, you’re officially weirding me out,” she said, turning in her seat to face him even as she stuffed another fry into her mouth, “What are you up to?”

“No more questions,” he said, “Just eat.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes and took a sip of her soda.

Once they were done and sufficiently stuffed, Kagome gathered their trash and immediately got out to toss it in a nearby bin, and then they were off again.

Now what are we doing?” she asked.

He reached over and bonked her on the head gently. 

“Hey!”

“Every time you keep asking that, you get another knock on the head.”

“I’ll knock you into next week.”

“You probably could,” he said, unable to keep his face from looking utterly gleeful.

They drove on for another twenty minutes or so, through brightly lit city streets, and then Inuyasha pulled them into a parking garage. 

Inuyasha’s phone buzzed in the center console. He picked it up and knew Kagome had seen who was calling just as easily as he had, because her eyes immediately hardened slightly. He turned the ringer off, looking straight into her eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?” she said, looking crestfallen.

“If you think I’m gonna talk to her while I’m out with you,” he said grumpily, “You haven’t been paying much attention.”

She didn’t smile, only nodded.

Dammit, Kikyou, horrible timing as usual. I was just getting to the good part, too.

“Come on,” he said, getting out of the car, and Kagome followed suit, letting herself stretch after so long in the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they started to walk to the parking garage elevator.

Bonk.

“Ow!”

Inuyasha smirked and linked his hand with hers.

They took the elevator down and he led her across the empty parking lot toward an inconspicuous black door. Above the door was a sign that said “Brick By Brick.”

“Go ahead,” he said, gently pushing her forward, “Go in.”

“Inuyasha, this seems like some weird slasher film,” she said as she gingerly pulled the door open and they stepped inside into a darkened hallway lit only by a single red bulb on the ceiling. Instantly, they both were hit with a loud wave of heavy rock music.

Kagome turned to him, realization suddenly dawning on her. Before she could open her mouth to speak, he gently pushed her forward again, urging her to keep walking.

They rounded a corner and Kagome almost collided into a barrel-chested bouncer in a black tee shirt with full sleeve tattoos. “Oh god, I’m sorry sir,” she said, stepping back.

The bouncer looked at her gruffly, then his eyes went to Inuyasha and widened. “Oh, Mr. Takahashi, sir. Come on in.” He turned and opened yet another door behind him and beckoned the two of them through. Inuyasha passed him a hundred dollar bill.

The room was dark but full of flashing stage lights. The noise from the guitars and drums was nearly deafening, but the good kind of deafening. And on the stage, playing to a moshing crowd, were-

“Holy SHIT!” Kagome screamed over the commotion, “You brought me to see System of a Down?

Inuyasha felt very pleased with himself indeed. The look on her face was enough to make him want to grab her, bend her backwards, and kiss her til her knees went weak. But for now, he’d just settle for watching his favorite girl link arms with him and start headbanging to the music.

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll push us to the front of the crowd.” He remembered she’d always loved being in the thick of the pit, even though her height gave her distinct disadvantages. But that was his Kagome. She’d always been a bit of a scrapper.

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with what he knew were happy tears, and then grabbed him forcefully by the back of the neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Come on,” she said, grinning wickedly at the no-doubt dazed look on his face when they parted, “Let’s go scream til we’re hoarse!”

 


 

“Double twins or single queen?” The motel clerk typed furiously into her computer.

“Single queen, please,” Kagome said, her voice already starting to sound a little scratchy and croaky. 

“Alright, you’re all set, Miss...Higurashi.” The clerk read off the name on the credit card and then suddenly looked up sharply to study Kagome’s face. “Higurashi? Are you by any chance related to-”

Kagome took a leaf out of Inuyasha’s book. “Oh no, not at all,” she said, smiling and waving her hand, “I get that a lot though.”

“You sort of resemble her.”

“Yep, I get that a lot too.” Kagome’s lips pressed a little closer together.

“Well, anyway, Room 137 is free.” The clerk handed her the card key. Kagome muttered a brief thanks and practically dashed back out the door to where Inuyasha was waiting in the car.

He was hot and sweaty and clearly on the verge of exhaustion, from the way he slumped back in the driver’s seat. “All good to go?” he asked. His voice was going too.

“Yep. Room 137.”

They pulled the car around to their room door and got out. “I don’t have any spare clothes,” Kagome said, her limbs feeling tired and sluggish, “You could have told me we were spending the night somewhere.”

“If I had, would you have come in the first place?” He followed behind her, his voice almost a whisper.

She thought about it and hated that she wasn’t sure if she would have.

“Never mind, don’t tell me,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder as she unlocked the room door and they trudged inside the sparse, meager accommodations, “I probably don’t want to know the answer to that.”

“Inuyasha,” she said, turning to him as they stood there beside the bed, “I wanted to apologize. For - for freaking out on you about Kikyou.”

“Stop it,” he said, “I’m the one who needs to apologize.”

She put a hand over his mouth. “Will you just pipe down for a second and let me talk?” she smirked, “I’ll admit, knowing she told you what flowers to get me made me hopping mad for a second there. Knowing you’ve been talking to her about me.”

He opened his mouth behind her hand, but all that came out was a muffled sound. 

“And,” she said, looking up at him pointedly, “I guess with all that Kikyou’s done, maybe one or two bouts of kindness aren’t enough for me. I need you to understand that.”

Inuyasha just furrowed his brow and nodded, looking at the floor.

“If you say she was being sincere, then okay, maybe she was. But I’m erring on the edge of caution here. That’s all.” She let her hand drop from his face. “Okay, your turn.”

“She’s trying to make amends,” Inuyasha said, “She hasn’t mentioned anything about - about her and I. Not at all. I just think she’s in uncharted territory and trying to fix her mistakes.”

“I wish I could believe in her like you do,” Kagome said, fighting the urge to get angry again, “And I know you still have to play nice for the press. I will too. I’ll even talk to her myself and try to mend the bridge. But please, don’t tell her anything more about us, okay? I want at least a small part of you to myself, even just in theory.”

Dammit, there go my eyes leaking again.

Inuyasha immediately grabbed her and pulled her tightly to him. “I promise.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you so much,” she whispered, “Not just for that. For tonight. The whole thing was perfect. I actually think you might know me too well.”

He chuckled softly. “Like the back of my hand, kiddo. Like the back of my hand.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, leaning her head back, a pained expression on her face, “I’d totally made up my mind to stay mad at you for a good long while, and then you show up with your adorable stupid face and your Wendy’s and your concert tickets and your smooth lines and I’m just hopelessly in love once again.”

Inuyasha bent and kissed her softly. “Am I allowed to respond to that yet? You told me I couldn’t.”

“Nope,” she grinned, and he sighed. “Hey, it’s not so bad! We’ve got two more months to get through. You have my sister to deal with, and I have Kouga.”

He stepped back a bit. “What?” he asked flatly, a scowl forming on his face.

“Yeah,” she said, feeling that old sheepish feeling, “At the interview with Yura today, she told me to name my celebrity crush.”

“And you said Kouga? ” Inuyasha slapped a hand over his eyes, though his other hand remained wrapped around her waist.

“Who else could I have said? She gave me like five seconds to answer and it just popped in my head! He’s the only other celebrity I know at all!”

“You could have said me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, great idea. Just tell the whole world. I thought the whole point of this entire convoluted plan was to avoid being the husband-stealing sister.”

“Not husband,” he said darkly, “I was never her husband.”

“I know.” She leaned her head onto his chest. “But anyway, that’s what I’ll be dealing with for the next few weeks.”

“You know he’s going to think he’s got a new way in, right?” Inuyasha looked almost livid, but not necessarily with her. “You know he’s going to try and steal you right from under me.”

“A guy as charming as you? You’re underestimating yourself, jerkface.” She grinned. “Please don’t worry about it. You know as well as I do that I can handle myself.”

“Like the last time you went out with him?” He raised an eyebrow, still looking decidedly grumpy.

She reddened. “That was old Kagome,” she said, “This is new Kagome. I’m done taking shit from anyone just to appease other people. I’m ready to fight for a happy ending this time.”

Something undecipherable glowed in his eyes at these words.

“It’s your fault, you know,” she said, smiling and wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, “You’re the first person who treated me like I was worth much of anything. Shoulda just kept treating me like the kid sister and we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

He smirked, gathered her up in his arms, and all but tackled her to the bed. 

Chapter 36: Red Carpet Blah-Blah-Blah

Summary:

In which Inuyasha takes a bottle of orange juice to the face, Kagome trains Hojo to deal with the she-beast, Kikyou cries on someone's shoulder, and Sango gets some help with styling for the latest awards ceremony.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirty-Six

Red Carpet Blah-Blah-Blah

 

“Here,” Kagome said, bounding through the hotel room door wearing her brand new System of a Down concert tee and clearly trying to avoid stumbling over the numerous bags in her hands, “I got you donuts and an orange juice. Is that okay?”

“You know I have to fit into another McQueen tux at the end of the week, right?” Inuyasha smirked from his perch on the bed. He’d tried to go with her to pick up breakfast but she’d quickly reminded him of the obvious fact that he was one of the most recognizable people in the world and no one would look at her too closely. So he’d lain here on the bed, watching trash TV and kicking back, waiting for her return like a little clingy puppy. Good grief, I got it bad, don’t I?

She smiled, setting the bags onto the simple chest of drawers. “Oh please,” she said, pulling her sunglasses off, “Like you can’t eat whatever the hell you want and avoid gaining even half a pound. Men make me sick sometimes, you know that?”

He folded his arms behind his head with a satisfied sigh.

“And stop posing like some sort of Greek god or something,” she said, taking the bag of donuts and sending them across the room with an underhand toss. He caught them with one hand and immediately began digging in.

A small bottle of orange juice collided with his forehead. “Ow!”

“Oh, shit, sorry!” she said, eyes wide but clearly trying not to burst out laughing.

“What is it with you and throwing things lately,” Inuyasha grumbled, rubbing his forehead, “You violent-ass woman.”

“I’m sorry!” she insisted, bounding onto the bed and kneeling in front of him, “I thought you were gonna catch it.”

“Sure you did.” He raised an eyebrow, 

“Does it hurt?” she said, placing a kiss to his forehead.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down for a proper kiss, only for her to grab the donut out of his other hand and shove it into his mouth with a laugh.

“We don’t have time for any of that, jerkface,” she said, pulling away, “We have to get back to LA by noon. So eat up!”

“Woman, you will be the death of me,” he muttered through a mouthful of pastry, but he couldn’t help the smile that rose to his lips.

He chewed and swallowed, watched her standing at the mirror, weaving her wild hair into a messy bun at the top of her head. She caught his gaze in the mirror and stuck out her tongue, then resumed pinning her hair into place.

Christ almighty do I love this girl. I have to tell her. I just have to. She said not to, but I’ll die if I can’t tell her.

He opened his mouth to speak.

Kagome’s phone rang in her pocket, and she pulled it out, looked at the caller ID, and frowned slightly.

“Who is it?” Inuyasha asked, taking a sip of orange juice, feeling a little deflated.

“Hojo,” Kagome said.

She pressed the answer button.

 


 

“What are you wearing this weekend?”

Sango looked up from her phone. She’d been so engaged in answering her emails since she woke up, she hadn’t even heard Miroku stir beside her.

“To the LA Film Critics Awards?”

“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Miroku said, “Unless you’re planning on wearing some exciting lingerie before then. Then fuck the awards, I wanna hear about that.

“You’re an absolute pig, you know that?” Sango scoffed and turned away so he couldn’t see the hint of a smile on her face.

“What color is your dress, is what I guess I was asking.”

She turned back to face him. He was propped up on one elbow, the sheets up to his waist, lazily playing with the ends of her hair with one hand.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re going to be my date. I feel like I should at least get a matching pocket square, right?”

“Oh, I’m going with you now, am I?” She smirked, ignoring the flutter of her heart in her chest.

“Yep.” He sat up against the headboard, fumbling for his cigarettes.

“And I get no say in this matter, I take it?”

“If you say no,” he said, exhaling a small plume of smoke, “I’m not going to the awards.”

“Houshi, your client won Best Actor. You have to go.”

“Says who?”

“Your job description?”

He gave a dramatic sigh. “Guess I’ll have to let Inuyasha wallow on his own, poor guy. A little lost lamb in the sea of press.”

Sango just snorted and returned to her emails. “You’re something, Houshi. Not anything good, but something.”

“I don’t want to go without you by my side.”

Whoa. She slowly turned back around to face him, pretty certain of the color of her cheeks judging by the heat in her face.

He didn’t meet her eyes, just took another drag of his smoke. 

Oh my god he’s blushing too. She fought the urge to laugh in delight because that might have sent the wrong message.

She turned back around to her phone, chin almost pressed to her collarbone.

“I’m wearing the same dress I wore to the premiere,” she whispered, “The black one.”

“There now, was that so hard?” he smirked, snaking an arm around her waist and kissing her spine, “Honestly, thinking of how you looked in that dress, I know I’m hard right now.”

He was answered with a pillow to his face.

 


 

“Good morning, Miss Higurashi! Sorry to call so early!”

“Just call me Kagome, Hojo. Plain Kagome. And it’s no problem. How are things going?”

“Oh...well, I think I’m learning just fine. Miss Kikyou certainly likes things just so!”

Preach to the choir, buddy. Kagome balanced the phone on her ear as she opened the passenger door of Inuyasha’s Lexus and climbed in.

“Well, that’s certainly true,” Kagome said cheerfully, “Is the job getting to you, yet? Are you stressed out?”

A pause. “No, no, not at all! I just have a ton of questions and I was wondering if maybe you were free for lunch this afternoon? I know you must be so busy yourself, what with getting ready for the awards this weekend-”

Oh, right. I have to go buy a dress at some point. Like today, preferably. Kagome glanced over at Inuyasha, who was driving but kept sneaking quizzical looks at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, I just remembered, thanks to you, that I have to go dress shopping. Want to come along? Might come in handy for you to learn the ins and outs of red carpet blah-blah-blah.”

“Well, I don’t know what you mean by blah-blah-blah,” Hojo said brightly, “but I’d be honored to accompany you! So should I call and reserve a table somewhere for lunch around one o’clock, and then we’ll go to Rodeo Drive?”

“Hojo,” Kagome said, leaning back in her seat with a grin, “First rule of red carpet blah-blah-blah: Never schedule a lunch before any sort of clothes fitting. You’ll make me all depressed and then where would we be?”

“Oh goodness, I’m sorry! So lunch afterward. Where would you like to go?”

“Somewhere with food,” Kagome said, “But don’t bother making a reservation. We’ll just drop in somewhere and wait for a table.”

“Can - can you do that here?”

“Well, it’s easier if you’re famous,” Kagome said, reaching over with her free hand to gently elbow Inuyasha in the arm to make him stop watching her so intently and keep his eyes on the damn road, “But I think we’ll manage. I’ll meet you at the house at one pm.”

“Wonderful! I’ll see you then, Miss Higurashi, oh I mean, Miss Kagome.”

“Just Kagome, Hojo. Laters.” She hung up.

“Who the fuck is Hojo?” Inuyasha grumbled, making a right turn.

“Kikyou’s new assistant, poor boy. Fresh out of college and still wet behind the ears.” Kagome dropped her phone into the center console next to Inuyasha’s.

“And you’re taking him dress shopping with you?”

“Well, he’s gotta learn how the whole awards show stuff works at some point, Inuyasha. Might as well let him suffer through it with me, since I’m a little more likely to be patient if he makes a mistake, right?”

Inuyasha growled a little under his breath. “I guess,” he muttered, “So straight to Kikyou’s then? I wanna meet this little punk.”

“Inuyasha, promise you’ll be nice. Hojo’s a sweetheart.”

He wrinkled his nose and just nodded. Kagome suppressed a smile. He was kinda cute when he was a little jealous.

 


 

“Miss Kagome, you’re back!”

Several of the housemaids swarmed her at once, giving her hugs and exclaiming their happiness at her return, all at the same time. Kagome stumbled back a little, but was obviously moved by the sentiment as she removed her sunglasses and walked into the spacious living room. Inuyasha followed behind her, ignoring both the questioning looks and the starry-eyed sighs as he passed the gaggle of maids.

“Kagome, is that you?”

Kikyou strode in from the hallway, and Inuyasha stopped short, as did Kagome.

She was wearing a white bikini, a towel draped over her shoulder. The bikini was strapless and left, well, practically nothing to the imagination.

When Kikyou saw Inuyasha standing there, she immediately turned a delicate shade of pink and moved to cover herself with the towel.

“Oh, Inuyasha! What are you doing here?”

Before Inuyasha could respond, Kagome stepped in and did it for him. “We just got back in town.” She had her arms pinned to her sides, but her face was stern.

Kikyou’s eyes met Inuyasha’s again. “O-Oh,” she said softly, a small hurt look crossing her face before she shook herself out of it, “Where did you go?”

“Nowhere,” Kagome said flatly.

Kikyou glanced at Kagome, then back at Inuyasha, looking stricken and quite flabbergasted. “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone of voice almost meek, “It’s none of my business, right?” She gave Inuyasha a soft smile, and he gulped.

Kagome shot him a pointed look, then turned her attention back to Kikyou. “Going for a swim?”

“No, just working on my tan,” Kikyou put her towel back over her shoulder, “For the awards.”

She strode across the room, her long legs covering the distance quickly, and she wrapped Kagome in a gentle hug around the shoulders. Kagome refused to return it at first, and now it was Inuyasha’s turn to shoot her a reproachful look. She sighed and gingerly lifted her arms to pat Kikyou on the back.

“I missed you,” Kikyou said to her sister, “Inuyasha was supposed to tell you that. Did you tell her that, Inuyasha?” Both girls raised their heads and looked at him.

“I guess I forgot,” Inuyasha said, rubbing the back of his neck. Kagome smiled and Kikyou frowned.

“Did he get you purple orchids? I told him to get you those; I know they’re your favorite.” Kikyou placed both hands on her much shorter sister’s shoulders.

“He did,” Kagome said, staring up at Kikyou with an unreadable expression.

There was a silence that hung in the air. Ugh, this fucking tension. Inuyasha shoved his hands into his pockets and fought the urge to scowl.

Kikyou noticed his frustrated motion and sprang into action first. “Oh sorry, honey, I’m hogging your girl, aren’t I?” She giggled and gave Kagome a little shove toward him. Kagome stumbled into his shoulder and shot him a very confused and troubled look.

“It’s fine,” Inuyasha said quickly, catching Kagome around the waist, “I should probably get going anyway. No doubt Miroku’s looking for me. He always is. I’m just as unreachable as possible on purpose.”

Kikyou laughed brightly. “If I know you, you’ll avoid him the rest of the day and just hang out practicing billiards. That was where I always used to find you when you didn’t want to be found.”

Inuyasha smirked.

“Oh, Miss Kagome!” A young man in his early twenties walked into the room. He was wearing a blue crewneck shirt tucked into a pair of khaki pants. He looked like a retail employee. This must be the sainted Hojo , Inuyasha thought.

Kagome stepped away from Inuyasha’s grip and took Hojo’s outstretched hand. “Just Kagome, Hojo. I told you. Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise!”

God, if cheerful is a drug, this little twerp has overdosed several times over.

“Ready to go?” Kagome said, “You have to drive. Inuyasha brought me here in his car, and I’m sure he wants it back, don’t you, jerkface?” She craned her neck over her shoulder and winked. Inuyasha pouted and rolled his eyes.

“Where are you taking my assistant?” Kikyou said, and normally this would have been said in a demanding screech, but she had a small smile on her face. Like she was in on some sort of private joke or something. Inuyasha was a little out of sorts right now.

“Training,” Kagome said, “Part of the whole assistant gig, you know.” She wasn’t returning Kikyou’s smile, but her voice didn’t sound angry.

“Have him back by midnight or else!” It was Kikyou’s turn to wink, and then she turned on her heel and exited out the back patio doors.

“Well,” Kagome said hesitantly, looking up at Inuyasha, “See you this weekend, I guess.”

Inuyasha wanted to grab her and kiss her but thought that might not be the best idea in front of this shrimpy little buffoon, who was searching his pockets for his wallet as if to make doubly sure he had it.

“Later, kiddo.”

Kagome and Hojo left out the front door. Kagome turned to look back once, her eyes shining with words unspoken, and then she was gone and the door was shut.

Inuyasha let out a sharp sigh and flipped his keys once in his hand.

“Inuyasha?” Kikyou’s face reappeared through the patio door, “Can I talk to you for just a second?”

 


 

“So first I schedule the massage and facial the morning of, and then the hair and makeup people, and the wardrobe people after that?” Hojo sat on a settee in the spacious stark white of the Max Mara boutique, scribbling notes onto a small, crinkled yellow pad.

“Don’t forget the chamomile and dandelion tea,” Kagome said, “She wants it every morning and afternoon before any event. Helps with water retention and nerves, she says.”

“Here you go, miss,” the saleswoman handed her a lovely strapless gown in bright sparkling silver.

“Oh, that one’s beautiful, Miss Kagome!” Hojo said, looking up from his yellow pad appreciatively.

Kagome smiled and looked the dress up and down. “At least it goes with the shoes. Maybe I shouldn’t have bought those first, but they’re pretty fucking cool.” She gestured to the Valentino shoe box next to where Hojo was sitting.

The saleswoman looked a little scandalized at the language used and quickly opened the dressing room curtain for Kagome to step through.

“Don’t you find all this expensive?” Hojo said from behind the curtain, “These shoes were a thousand dollars!

Kagome laughed, sliding her shirt and jeans off and pulling the gown up to her chest, “That’s nothing in this town,” she said, “but luckily this time I’ve got the studio helping me out.”

“That’s awful nice of them.”

“Yeah,” Kagome smirked, zipping the dress up the side, “Real nice of them.”

She stepped back through the curtain and walked to the three-way mirror.

“Wow!” Hojo said, his face pinkening in the mirror’s reflection, “You look...oh my goodness. You look beautiful, Miss Kagome!”

Kagome smiled brightly at him. “Thanks, Hojo. I think this is it. Luckily the third time’s the charm today. Kikyou usually takes hours to pick one out.”

 


 

“He just won’t leave me alone,” Kikyou said tearfully, “Calling and texting at all hours, telling me how much he wants me back and how he won’t take no for an answer.” Her phone sat limply in her hand, and she ran a hand over her eyes, wiping the tears away.

“I thought he was supposed to be in Mongolia,” Inuyasha said sagely, taking a drag of his cigarette from his perch on the poolside recliner, his legs crossed. “I didn’t think there were many cell towers there.”

“Well, apparently, he found a way,” Kikyou said fretfully, burying her face in her hands. “He said he’ll never get over me.”

“He will, eventually. Don’t worry about it.” Inuyasha resisted the urge to pat her on the head; she might not have appreciated the gesture like Kagome would have.

Kikyou looked up at him, her face just broken. Inuyasha immediately realized what he’d said and stammered to recover from it.

“No, no,” she said, holding out a hand, “Please don’t. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I know where I stand with you. I get it. And I shouldn’t be bothering you about this. You should be with Kagome right now. I just don’t have anyone else to talk to.”

“Kikyou-”

“I just don’t know how to tell him,” she flung herself down onto her pool chair, crying almost hysterically, “that I don’t want to be with him because...because…” She sobbed into her hands.

“Because what?” Inuyasha switched his cigarette to the other hand and leaned over to put his right hand on her shoulder as she shook from crying.

“Because,” she wailed between her fingers, “I’m still hopelessly in love with you! ” More crying. More sobs.

Inuyasha felt his face redden immediately. Now he was well and truly speechless.

“Uh-”

“Please don’t say anything,” she said softly, weakly, “I know how hypocritical I sound. And I know I made the mistake and I’m paying for it. Believe me, I’m paying for it.”

Inuyasha sat back in his seat, running a hand over his mouth. He needed a drink.

Kikyou sat up as well, brushing her hands over her tear-stained face, still hiccuping slightly. “God, I wish I hadn’t just said that,” she said, a weak smile playing on her lips, “You have enough to deal with without worrying about little ol’ me.”

She stood up, a vision in a white bikini. “I think I will swim for a bit,” she said softly, dropping her towel onto the pool chair and striding forward to the water’s edge, “It always used to make me feel better, remember?”

“Yeah,” was all Inuyasha could say.

“I’ll see you this weekend, okay? Meet me here at six sharp, dressed to the nines. Did you get a tux yet?”

“McQueen’s making me one again,” he said softly.

“Always the fashion muse,” she said wistfully, turning to give him one last sad look. “If you see Kagome before then, please don’t tell her what I just told you. She’d be furious.”

“I won’t.” She’d probably kill me first, honestly. He sighed as he stood up, reaching in his pocket for his keys.

“See you later,” she said, before gracefully diving into the pool.

 


 

“So, Kagome, tell me, what are your thoughts on your sister’s relationship with Inuyasha?”

“...Cute?”

Miroku snorted as he buttoned his cufflinks.

“Can you confirm for us that they are back together? They’ve certainly been hinting at a reunion quite a bit.”

“I think they’re taking things slow and seeing where it goes.” Kagome’s face in the TV screen was smiling, but her eyes weren’t.

“What about you? Are you seeing anyone right now? Kouga Okami, perhaps?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

“Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“...Kouga Okami.”

“Way to go, genius,” Miroku snarked down the hallway. “She edited it to make you look like a lovestruck teenager.”

“Color me fucking shocked, ” Kagome growled through the closed bedroom door, “Dress is on. Thank god.”

“Alright, let me see it,” Miroku said, straightening his tie in the mirror.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” Kagome said, opening the door to the guest room and stepping into the living room.

Miroku looked her up and down. She was in full hair and makeup, her curls arranged into a delicate updo accented with tiny rhinestones, her eyes sparkling in simple black eyeliner.

“You’re magnificent,” he said, meaning it, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Okay, okay,” she said, smoothing down the skirt of the silver-black gown, “Knock it off.”

“No, really,” he said, “You look like the awards statuette Inuyasha is going home with tonight.”

She burst into uncontrollable laughter, stepping up beside him in the mirror, “Oh my god, I do look like the award!”

“Better, even,” Miroku said, fumbling with his tie a little more, “Maybe Inuyasha will get to take you home as well.”

“You keep your mouth shut,” Kagome said, grabbing his tie and finishing it for him, “I gotta say, this is a different look for you. Black on black on black? Very goth. I dig it.”

“Guess I should fish out my old tapes of The Cure from college,” he smirked as she tucked his collar neatly around the tie. “Sango’s on her way up.”

As if on cue, Sango walked in the front door, holding up her massive black taffeta skirts. She was nearly his height once again. Why she insisted on heels that high was beyond him, but he would never, ever complain. Especially given the way her butt was shaped in that dress.

“You two make a cute little picture,” she grumbled, blowing her hair out of her face. She had simple winged eyeliner on tonight. Much more simplistic than normal, but Miroku wasn’t complaining. Her face was pretty enough anyway.

“Sango,” Kagome said with a cordial smile, “Your hair. Are you leaving it down tonight?”

“Yeah,” Sango said, elbowing Miroku out of the way to mess with it in the mirror, “I can’t make it do a thing I tell it.”

“Why didn’t you go to the salon today?” Miroku asked, reaching up to brush a stray eyelash off her face.

Sango glared at her own reflection. “Too much to do.” Her tone said the subject should be dropped.

Kagome grabbed the brush from Sango’s hand. “Come here,” she said, pulling Sango to the couch, “Sit.”

Sango turned immediately into a stammering mess. “Oh no, please,” she said, her cheeks turning bright red, “Don’t bother.”

“This is my go-to for Kikyou’s hair when she used to decide at the last minute to go out for the evening,” Kagome said, running the brush through Sango’s long brown locks, “You have pretty similar hair texture, so it should work. Miroku, my bag in the bathroom. I need a handful of bobby pins and that giant can of hairspray.”

When Miroku returned, items in hand, Kagome had already deftly woven Sango’s hair into a large braid, which she proceeded to wrap into a bun at the crown of her head.

“You missed a lock of hair there.” Miroku pointed at the strands hanging over Sango’s shoulder.

“No, I didn’t,” Kagome said, not looking up as she held out the palm of her hand, “Nurse, scalpel.”

Miroku smirked and handed her a bobby pin. Sango sat there quietly, hands folded around her shoulders, still red in the face. She looked up at Miroku like she was about to cry. He winked.

Kagome pinned the large braid in place, then immediately set to work on the small remaining lock of hair.

“Ohhh,” Miroku said, “So you’re braiding that part around the rest of it.”

“Don’t question my genius,” Kagome said, finishing up and motioning for him to hand her the hairspray. “Everyone close your eyes and don’t inhale. I’m gonna make sure this sucker doesn’t move an inch all evening. Miroku, don’t kiss her right now. You’re getting in the way.”

“AHHH! MY EYES!”

“I warned you I was using the hairspray, you idiot!”

“IT BURNS!”

“Of course it does, you moron!”

“Sango, why are you laughing? I’m in pain, here!”

 


 

“Okay, Kagome,” Miroku said, finishing off the last of his glass of champagne and reaching to remove hers from her hand, “You’re on your own. Inuyasha and Kikyou are in the car in front. You need to get out and meet up with them.”

“I know,” she said, feeling the same old jitters that she was growing used to. When one stepped out of a limo in front of a screaming crowd of people, one had to expect a few nerves, right?

The door opened and Kagome got out. The roar of the crowd suddenly increased dramatically. “Whoa,” Kagome whispered, her eyes wide. Why do they give a shit that I’m here?

A large group of young high-school and college-age girls in particular were screaming her name, waving around their phones, desperate for her attention. They were all dressed in varying shades of grey and black, with silver jewelry and wild hairstyles. They all looked…

Like I did. In the interview. Ohhh boy.

“Kagome, please! Take a selfie with us!” they screamed, pawing over each other to get better looks at her.

Kagome sent a questioning look to Miroku, who was helping Sango and her giant skirt out of the limo behind her. He looked at her, looked at the crowd, shrugged, and nodded.

Hesitantly, Kagome approached them, keeping a wide smile on her face. It really was flattering, she supposed, even though she did nothing to warrant this attention besides give a pretty bad interview and look somewhat alternative.

“Selfie!” the girls screamed, and Kagome turned her back to them, leaning against the barrier. She felt numerous hands grab somewhat roughly onto her bare shoulders as she posed for a few pictures. 

Feeling a little out of breath, she backed away from them, giving them a friendly wave but saying nothing. The girls all screamed thanks and we-love-yous and incomprehensible shrieks.

“Still sure you don’t want to be famous?” Miroku said as she rejoined them on the red carpet, “I could book you as a client. You’ve apparently got mass appeal, kid.”

“I’m fucking positive I don’t want to be famous,” Kagome said shortly, straightening her dress where the girls had pulled on it.

The second limo pulled up and the crowd grew deafening as Kikyou and Inuyasha stepped out, smiling and waving to the crowd like it was second nature. Kagome grinned when she saw her sister’s dress. Well, this was awkward. Silver and gold. Just a touch of red and green and they’d have themselves a Christmas tree.

Inuyasha caught her eye and held out the hand that wasn’t around Kikyou’s waist. Kagome took it (to an even louder cheer) and positioned herself on his right, looping her arm through his.

“Smile, please!” The red carpet’s own photographer stepped out, kneeling in front of them.

“My face hurts already,” Kagome whispered through gritted teeth, “How you manage to last through this shit, I’ll never know.”

“I tell myself jokes,” Inuyasha said, the smile never leaving his face as he pulled Kikyou closer for the cameras. Kikyou looped her arm around Inuyasha’s as well, clinging to him tightly. “What did the buffalo say when his kid left for college? ‘Bison!’”

Kagome didn’t know if it was the nervous energy or just the sheer lameness of the joke that made her almost double over in laughter. Inuyasha laughed as well. Kikyou just smiled complacently and whispered, “Kagome, get yourself together, for crying out loud.”

Chapter 37: The Size Of Watermelons

Summary:

In which the awards ceremony gets awkward as hell super quickly, Inuyasha bullshits through his acceptance speech, and Kagome's TV interview gets the attention of the one person she was hoping it wouldn't.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The Size Of Watermelons

 

“Here’s our table,” Miroku said, ushering the whole group of them over to a table with a placard that read ‘Reserved: Sunrise Studios Group.’” He dutifully helped Kikyou into her seat and then moved to pull Sango’s chair out for her as well.

“Sit next to me, Sango darling,” Kikyou said, flashing the smile that made her famous, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

Sango briefly glanced at Miroku and refused to acknowledge the bemused smirk on his face. “Sure,” she said, moving one chair over to sit at Kikyou’s right. 

Miroku immediately moved to take the seat on Sango’s other side, but halted just as he was pulling the chair out when a voice sounded behind him.

“Houshi,” Warner said, “That’s my seat.”

Miroku’s face screwed up in an almost pained look before he turned to greet the behemoth of a studio executive. “Randy! Good to see you. Happy tidings and all that.”

“Move,” Warner said, his voice a low hiss.

“Of course.” Miroku stepped back, motioning for Warner to sit. Sango, watching out of the corner of her eye as she pretended to fiddle with her purse, noticed his eyes darken briefly as Lana Warner gently pushed herself past him, casting him a significant smirk as she sat next to her husband. Kikyou immediately greeted Warner warmly, and he leaned behind Sango to bend and kiss her hand. 

Miroku smiled his best PR smile and made his way to the other side of the table, sitting as far from Sango as possible. He sat down, immediately drumming his fingers on the tablecloth, but keeping the smile pasted on.

“Good evening, Sango,” Warner said, “You look ravishing, as usual.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And how have you been, Miroku dear?” Lana Warner, it seemed, could always be counted upon to increase the heavy vibes here. She leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder, casting a long glance at Miroku down the table.

Miroku was livid. Sango knew it. So she acted quickly before he said something that would cause a riot.

“Champagne all around, yes? To celebrate our own Best Actor tonight, and to the continued success of Sunrise Studios this awards season?” 

There was a friendly murmuring of agreement and congratulations all around. Inuyasha, across the table from them, nodded in thanks with a demure smile as he took his seat between Kikyou and Kagome.

As a waiter quickly filled flutes of champagne and divvied them out, Sango glanced down the table at Miroku, sitting alone with no one to his right or left, trying to meet his gaze. He just kept picking at the tablecloth, an obviously bitter smile on his face.

Keep it together, Houshi, Sango silently willed, We’re pros. We’ve got this.

 


 

“More champagne, Miss Higurashi?”

“I don’t mind if I do,” Kikyou said, handing her glass to the waiter, then turning her eyes to Kagome. “How have you been?”

She sounded so innocently curious. Kagome wasn’t buying it. Or at least, she didn’t want to.

“Just fine, thanks. How’s Hojo working out?” Kagome looked around, looking for the subject of conversation, and found him dutifully standing against a far wall waiting to be summoned. At the same time, she was able to notice Hiten Raimei approach the far end of the table, arm in arm with a rather scantily-clad supermodel-looking girl. Hiten seemed to take in the number of remaining seats, then bent over to clap a hand on Miroku’s shoulder and whisper something in his ear. Miroku clearly sighed, then got up and moved yet another space down, letting Hiten and his date squeeze in between him and Lana Warner.

“Wonderfully, actually. He’s so attentive,” Kikyou said, taking her glass back from the waiter and sipping at it, “He’s gotten me some mouthwash for after the meal, actually.”

“Sounds like he didn’t need much training from me after all.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Kikyou said, leaning over to talk right over Inuyasha, “He doesn’t know me like you do, if you know what I mean.”

You got that right, sister dear. Kagome smiled demurely. “I’m sure it will all be for the better in the end.”

“At least for you,” Kikyou said, disappearing again behind her champagne glass.

Kagome raised an eyebrow and cut her eyes to Inuyasha. A little bitchy, wasn’t that? You sure she’s a changed woman, buddy?

He shot her an awkward grimace and knocked back the rest of his drink.

“Kouga!” Warner immediately stood, looking absolutely thrilled. Kagome felt faint and rubbed a hand over her eyes.

“Kagome,” Kikyou called sweetly, “You’ll mess up your makeup.”

Thanks, sister, for having my best interests at heart always.

After a hearty handshake with Warner, Kouga, dressed to the nines in an emerald green suit, immediately caught sight of her and made a beeline around the table.

Oh god no don’t please -

“Fancy seeing you here,” Kouga said, unceremoniously dropping into the empty seat on her right.

She heard Inuyasha growl under his breath and immediately sent him a gentle kick beneath the table. “Hi Kouga,” she said. Keep it friendly. Cordial. And pray he doesn’t mention - 

“Saw you on Yura’s show today.”

That.

“Did you?” Kagome said, keeping her mannerisms confident and self-assured. She felt Inuyasha reach surreptitiously under the table and place a deathgrip on her knee. She kicked him off once more, casting a warning look over her shoulder, then turning back to Kouga.

“You said you had a crush on me!” Kouga said, taking his glass of champagne from the waiter’s outstretched hand and reaching out with his free hand to gently pinch her cheek. “You little minx. Playing hard to get all the time.”

“Weird how TV editing works, isn’t it? They can make you say anything just by mixing the words around.” Kagome took another gulp of her champagne and sat back a little in her chair. On her opposite side, she heard Inuyasha give a small snort.

“Well, you had to have said his name at some point, Kagome,” Kikyou said with a laugh, “They can’t just put words in your mouth!”

Kagome wanted to just slide under the table and shrink into a little puff of dust. And float away, happily, so happily, free as the wind…

“Kouga,” Inuyasha said, clearly fighting to keep his own voice friendly, “Why don’t you leave the poor kid alone? You know Yura probably forced her to say that shit. She’s got ratings to consider, after all.”

Okay, I admit, I like when he calls me ‘Kiddo,’ but that’s to my face , dammit! Not to other people! Kagome suddenly felt like a seventeen-year-old with braces again and turned pink.

Kouga seemed to notice her reaction, and as usual, misinterpreted it. “Did she force you to say that?” he said, looking almost victorious.

“Of course she did,” Kagome said quickly, but obviously not convincing enough, because Kouga just looked delighted.

Inuyasha just glowered. Kagome could almost feel it through the back of her head.

“Here’s to my sister Kagome, everyone,” Kikyou said, “The belle of the ball tonight!”

Almost the entire table laughed congenially and raised their glasses. Inuyasha didn’t drink. Neither did Sango. Neither did Miroku. Neither did Kagome.

“By the way, Takahashi,” Kouga said over Kagome’s head, a smirk on his face, “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“What are you talking about?” Inuyasha said testily.

“You and Kikyou, here,” Kouga inclined his head toward the goddess in gold, “Congratulations on getting back together.”

“We’re not-”

“Are you ready to order?” The waiter dipped his head in between everyone. “Chicken or salmon?”

Kagome cast a look of utter exasperation down the table at Miroku. He sat there at the far end, surrounded by strangers, clearly concentrating on getting properly drunk. All he could do was shrug and sigh.

 


 

“And the Los Angeles Film Critics Association Award for Best Actor in a Motion Picture goes to...Inuyasha Takahashi, for ‘The Red Robe!’”

Applause, applause, applause. 

The entire ballroom stood from their tables, dinner long since cleared away but drinks still flowing freely, and clapped and cheered for him.

Inuyasha stood and buttoned his jacket, sliding past Kagome, who quickly grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze, and jogging up the steps to the stage.

He greeted the presenter with a handshake and took the heavy award in one hand. This thing could do some damage if I smashed it over Kouga’s stupid head later, he was ashamed to admit was his first thought.

The crowd resumed their seats and a hush fell over them. He had the entire room’s rapt attention.

“Thanks very much,” he said, “And thanks to the LA Critics Association for this wonderful honor. As actors, we can only hope that we elevate the material we’re given, but credit is certainly due to the rest of the crew on this film. My extra thanks to the lovely young woman who brought me bottled waters after every take in the scorching desert sun. You saved my life, I promise you.” 

The crowd chuckled. Inuyasha didn’t dare look over at the Sunrise table.

“I of course would be remiss if I didn’t thank Kikyou Higurashi, my leading lady this time and several times before.”

There were whoops and whistles scattered throughout the room, and applause erupted again. Inuyasha chanced a look over to see Kikyou doing the who-me-oh-golly-thanks routine, giving a little wave to the crowd.

Kagome was turned completely around in her seat, watching with the biggest, goofiest smile on her face, her chin resting on the back of her chair.

Clearing his throat, Inuyasha continued. “I came here about ten years ago, with probably a hundred bucks in my pocket and no idea what I was going to do to survive. I just knew that I wanted to be an actor. And with the help and support of several amazing people along the way, I can finally feel a little satisfied that I’m at least helping to tell stories that reach people in some way, shape, or form. That’s the ultimate goal of any actor, and thanks to the LA Film Critics Association, tonight I feel a bit closer to it. Thanks again.”

The crowd erupted in applause once again as Inuyasha held the statuette aloft in a victory pose just for a second, then walked offstage escorted by the presenter.

 


 

The awards were over. The dim lights of the ballroom rose back to full brilliance. And the scores of the rich, famous, and powerful were beginning to file out, table by table.

Miroku sat somewhat hunched over, his left hand still wrapped around his champagne glass, his right hand clutching a ballpoint pen and scratching very busily into the white linen tabletop.

“Really?” 

He looked up to see Sango standing over him in that amazing dress, her hand on her hip. “Do you have to make a spectacle of yourself like this?”

“I don’t know what you’re worried about,” Miroku said, his cheeks flushed warm from the numerous glasses of booze, “This ceremony isn’t televised. No one will ever know.”

“Except the poor busboys in a few minutes,” Sango leaned over him to look at his scratched-out masterpiece. “Wait a second - is that me?

“Yep,” Miroku said, slumping back in his seat with a goofy smile, “What do you think of the boobs? That was my favorite part to draw.”

“Houshi, my boobs are not the size of watermelons.”

He made a pouty face. “Well, I like them. And I like my picture. You’re not giving yourself enough credit, babe, your boobs are fantastic-

“Shut up, Houshi. Come on, we’ve got another afterparty to hit.”

“Is Warner gonna be there?” Miroku stumbled to his feet.

“You know he is. It’s the Sunrise party.”

“Then I’d rather just go somewhere else.” Preferably a dark hole to die in. But with booze. Lots of booze.

“But it’s at Sound again!” Sango said, almost excitedly, “And I did all the decor again! I want you to see it!”

Miroku sighed. “You know I’d never refuse a beautiful woman. Let’s go.”

 


 

“Hojo, darling, do you have my mouthwash?” Kikyou turned back to the young man scurrying behind her. Inuyasha and Kagome followed closely behind, their hands brushing once as they walked. 

Inuyasha glanced at her. “Did you catch the little part in the speech about you?”

She smiled up at him. That one stray curl had fallen from its place again. “Dummy,” she said, “Of course I did.”

They walked outside, where a parade of limos were waiting to take their group to the Sunrise Studios afterparty. Kikyou and Hojo clambered into the closest one, and Inuyasha and Kagome moved to follow.

“Kagome!”

Are you kidding me with this fucking bullshit. Inuyasha fought the urge to grab Kagome and block her with his own body as Kouga all but jogged after them.

Kagome closed her eyes and sighed, as if she were practicing a form of zen philosophy and centering herself. “Yes?” she said finally, turning with a friendly smile.

“Can I have a minute?” Kouga grabbed her hand and gently pulled her away from Inuyasha. 

No the fuck you can’t , Inuyasha wanted to scream but didn’t. Kagome glanced back at him, first giving him that beautiful smile he loved so goddamn much, and then jerking her head to signal him into the limo with Kikyou and Hojo.

“Nah, fuck that,” Inuyasha said softly, so only Kagome could hear. But she just shook her head slightly.

“I got this,” she whispered.

Any other girl, he would have stepped in.

Any other girl, he would have immediately laid claim so there would be no doubt.

But this was Kagome. And she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Whether that was in favor of Inuyasha or not, he didn’t know. 

But he did know that he was willing to put faith in her. At least a fraction of the faith that she’d no doubt shown in him thus far. He owed her that much.

Inuyasha cleared his throat. “See you at the afterparty, then.”

She nodded, looking at him with so much adoration and appreciation in her eyes that it was damn near impossible to turn away from her.

But turn away he did, and got in the limo and drove away. Still pissed off, of course, but that was just his way of sorting through shit.

 


 

“What do you want, Kouga?” Kagome said as the limo pulled away. She turned, arms folded.

Kouga ran a hand through his hair. “Are you going to the afterparty?”

Kagome shot him a very pointed dressing-down sort of look. “Yes. That was where that limo was going. Any other questions?”

“So, do you want to go in my car?” As if on cue, the next limo pulled up and a driver dashed around to open the door.

“Haven’t got much choice, do I? Unless I want to try and get an Uber.” Kagome pulled out her phone as if to do just that.

Kouga put a hand over hers. “No, no, don’t do that. Please, just five minutes. That’s all I ask.”

Kagome sighed and replaced her phone in her purse. 

“Fine,” she said, “but if you try anything, just remember, I know how to break your nose in three different ways.”

Chapter 38: Close Your Mouth, Dear

Summary:

In which Kouga REALLY doesn't give up easily, Kagome finds out she apparently has fans, and Miroku gets tired of being kept at arms' length.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Close Your Mouth, Dear

 

“Hojo, dear, please be careful. This dress is Prada, ” Kikyou said, holding out her glass as Hojo shakily poured champagne into it.

“S-Sorry, Miss Higurashi,” Hojo stammered, then turned to Inuyasha, “More champagne for you, Mr. Takahashi, sir?”

“I’m good,” Inuyasha said flatly, sitting back in his seat.

“Thank you, Hojo,” Kikyou said, leaning over to plant a kiss on the young man’s cheek. He immediately turned beet red and shuffled backwards to his own seat. Kikyou just giggled at the reaction.

“Don’t do that,” Inuyasha growled so only Kikyou could hear.

“Do what?” she said, brushing a lock of her long black hair behind her ear, looking particularly interested in what he had to say.

“Mess with the kid’s head,” Inuyasha said, crossing a leg over his lap, “He doesn’t know enough to know better.”

Kikyou smirked. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, leaning back in her own seat, still turned to face him, “It’s probably too much to hope that you’re jealous, huh?”

“Huh?” Inuyasha’s head snapped around to face her.

“I know, I know,” she said, looking remarkably sad for a moment, then seeming to pull herself together.

“I’m not jealous,” Inuyasha insisted, maybe too forcefully.

“Even if you were,” Kikyou said, adjusting the left strap of her dress, “I wouldn’t dream of coming between you and my sister. You two were just made for each other. It’s adorable.”

Inuyasha didn’t feel confident enough to conjure up a reply, so the rest of the ride was undertaken in silence.

 


 

“So what did you want to say?” Kagome said, dimly aware that she was sitting in Kouga’s limo crossing both her arms and her legs.

“Drinks first,” Kouga said, fiddling with the minibar, “I got you some beer. That’s your favorite, right?”

Kagome raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“Here you go.” He handed her a Trooper Ale. “The guy from Iron Maiden brews these, right?”

“No, it’s just inspired by them, with their full blessing,” Kagome said, trying to twist the top off and remembering she couldn’t. She turned to the cupholder ledge and smacked the beer downwards with her fist, sending the bottlecap flying.

Kouga just watched her, looking a little dazed.

“Anyways, I have my drink,” Kagome said, taking a sip, “Now say your piece.” God, I love Trooper Ale. No, no, focus, Kagome. You’re not to be had for a dress, remember? So where would your self-respect go if you were to be had for a fucking beer?

Kouga pointedly pulled out a bottle opener from a sleeve near the minibar and used it to open his own beer. “I want to ask you out again.”

Kagome scoffed. “Fat chance.”

“I’m serious!” And from the look on his face, she really did believe him.

Kagome took another sip of her beer and then leaned over to clap a hand on Kouga’s shoulder. “Kouga,” she said very kindly, “You can have any girl in the world you want. Why the hell would you bother chasing after me?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” Kouga said earnestly, clearly not realizing how insulting it was to just agree without qualifying the statement. But then again, Kagome knew she had set herself up for that one.

“Is it just because I’ve told you ‘no?’”

“No, it’s not that,” Kouga actually looked like he was trying to puzzle through it in real time, “There’s something about you. You’re funny.

….Thanks?

“And you don’t speak bullshit. You’d be surprised how often I have to fight off women who only want me because I’m handsome, rich, and famous.”

Kagome fought the urge to laugh. “I don’t think I’d be surprised at all, Kouga. But really, you should give them all a chance. At least half of them are probably willing to do body shots for a group of ogling guys, even when they aren’t shitfaced.”

Kouga Okami seemed to be struggling to communicate with a female. Kagome wondered for a brief moment if calling Yura Kaminoke on speed dial to report an exclusive news item would be a gauche move. Probably so.

“Now that Inuyasha and Kikyou are back together-”

“They’re not back together,” Kagome found herself jumping in before she could stop herself.

“Even so,” Kouga said, taking a long gulp of his beer, “It’s a matter of time, right? Especially if they want those Oscars that Warner’s been teasing about to anyone who’ll listen.”

Kagome couldn’t reply properly, so she settled with disappearing behind her beer bottle.

“You and I could be good together. You’re a heavy metal kid, I’m a-”

“A playboy millionaire actor slash bad boy?”

Kouga blinked, then grinned at the label. “Yeah, that. We’d make a good team. Admit it.”

“So romantic, Kouga,” Kagome said, rolling her eyes, “You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet. So tell me, what’s my favorite band?”

A pause. “I don’t know.”

“Where in the world would I go if I wanted to get away from it all?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” Kagome said, “I said it before. You don’t know anything about me. I think maybe you’re overthinking all of this.”

“I know what I want,” Kouga said, scooting a little closer, “And I want you , Kagome. I can learn all that stuff. No problem.”

“You’re missing the entire point,” Kagome said, “Maybe you need to just reexamine your thoughts here. I think maybe I acted differently than you expected-”

“You got that right,” Kouga said, flashing her what was surely his most charming smile.

“But,” she said, holding up the hand that wasn’t closed around her beer, “I’m already in love with someone else.”

“Yeah, I know. Inuyasha. That’ll end well.”

Kagome glared at him with all the ferocity she could muster.

Kouga looked only momentarily disgruntled. “I wasn’t talking about love , Kagome, geez. I was talking about…” He trailed off.

Kagome blinked. “ Ohhhh ,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “That explains the dress, doesn’t it? Ugh, I wouldn’t have put it on if I thought it was some sort of fetish fuel -”

“No!” he said quickly, grabbing for her hand but being rebuffed quite quickly by her warning look, “All I meant was, I like you, and I’d like to date you and see where it goes!” He then took a second to destroy this solitary moment of seeming-sincerity by leering at her up and down. “Of course, we could always do the naughty stuff first. I promise, I don’t disappoint.”

“Kouga,” Kagome said slowly, like she was talking to a kid, “This is all literally because I told you ‘no.’ I promise you. This sometimes happens. Sometime’s a girl’s not interested.

“You say that,” Kouga said, leaning a bit closer to her, “but you said my name on national TV. Maybe you’re more interested than you’re letting yourself believe.”

Kagome couldn’t reply without spilling all the beans on her and Inuyasha, so she settled for scooting slightly away from him testily.

“You know,” Kouga said, scooting even closer to make up for it, “If I kissed you, I bet you’d change your tune.”

“You so much as touch me, Kouga, and I swear-”

“Oh, I’m not going to,” he said, grinning wickedly. Kagome felt like a rabbit trying to outrun a hungry fox, frankly. “I’ll leave it here for now. Leave you begging for it.

Kagome rolled her eyes, finishing off her beer without taking her baleful stare away from him. “How about just staying away from me? Forever?”

“Eh, you’d miss me too much,” he said with a smirk, folding his arms behind his head as the limo came to a stop in front of the nightclub.

 


 

“Inuyasha! Kikyou!” 

The crowd in front of the nightclub were going absolutely insane. Higher pitched than usual. Inuyasha winced.

A reporter waved both of them down. He was obviously a new employee looking for his first big on-screen moment, so Inuyasha figured he’d cut him a break and stop walking. Kikyou just blinked at him for a second, then folded her arm around his tightly. Was it a sweet gesture, or a reminder? Inuyasha didn’t know for sure.

“Inuyasha, congratulations on the award tonight!” The kid was clearly fighting to keep his voice from shaking.

“Thanks,” Inuyasha said in his most easygoing manner, trying to put him at ease.

“I have to ask this, it’s all my producers want to hear from me right now,” the kid said, tapping at a wireless earpiece on the right side of his head almost annoyingly, “What are your thoughts on Kagome Higurashi’s dress tonight?”

“Her dress?” Inuyasha tried not to sound too flabbergasted.

“It’s apparently creating a big stir with all the fashion reporters,” the kid said eagerly, “The little sister’s becoming quite the sensation!”

Oh, she’ll fucking love that.

“She gets it from me,” Kikyou said with a bell-like laugh, and the reporters around them all chuckled as well.

“Kikyou,” the young reporter held up the microphone, his attention now wholly diverted to her, “What’s it been like for you the last few weeks, seeing your sister sort of come into her own? Any sibling rivalry there?”

Kikyou just smiled. “Oh no, we’re so different,” she said, her voice sweet as honey once again, “She likes black leather a little too much for my tastes.” Another round of laughter from the crowd. Inuyasha just ran an awkward hand through his hair.

Kikyou continued, looping him into the conversation once more. “Honestly though, I think I speak for Inuyasha when I say we’re both so proud of her. She’s not used to being in the spotlight, but she’s taking to it like a fish to water, wouldn’t you say?”

Inuyasha just nodded at her prompting. There was a steely edge to Kikyou’s tone that he was sure no one else had picked up on, but he sure had.

“One more question,” the reporter said, now focusing on both of them together, “Are you two back together? The world wants to know!”

Kikyou squeezed Inuyasha’s arm a little tighter, tucking her head slightly beneath his chin before he could react.

“We have no comment at this time,” she said with a smile, then all but pulled him along into the club as the crowd resumed its shouting and cheering.

Inuyasha definitely needed a drink. A strong one.

 


 

There were a throng of people waiting in line outside the doors, whining to get in but being turned down as the poor harassed doorman tried to explain that it was a private event and no one without a spot on the A-list was getting inside, period. The crowd immediately noticed Kouga, and began to scream (most of the screams were, of course, female). He gave them a saucy wave and turned to help Kagome out of the car. She shrugged his hand away and got out her own damn self.

“Oh my god, that’s Kikyou Higurashi’s sister! With Kouga! ” The crowd was loving every minute of it, obviously. Kagome gave a weak, forced grin and turned to walk through the front door.

“Wait a second,” Kouga said, gently pulling her back, “This nice guy wants to talk to us.” He gestured at a young man holding a microphone, whose face was full of utter glee.

“Kagome Higurashi!” the reporter said, thrusting the microphone in her face, “I’ve heard your name so many times tonight! This has got to be a crazy experience for you!”

“It is,” Kagome said softly, pasting a smile on her face. 

“You look amazing ,” the young man said, and the cameraman behind him panned up and down her dress at the prompt, “Can you give us an ID on the dress? The fashion blogs are going insane right now.”

Really? For this one? Kagome blinked in surprise, looking down at herself briefly.

“It’s off-the-rack Max Mara,” she said, tugging at the skirt to show her heels, “and the shoes are-”

“Valentino,” the reporter finished, “What are your thoughts on the Valentino website selling out of these within the last thirty minutes?”

Okay, what the hell is going on here?

“Um.”

“How were the awards tonight? What are your thoughts on Inuyasha’s big win?”

“I’m so proud of him,” she said, feeling a touch of pink color her face, “He’s worked so hard to get to this point, and he deserves every award they can offer him.”

“Kouga, a question for you. How does it feel to have Kagome here with you? I understand you went to the Hollywood Film Awards together a few weeks back. Are you dating?”

“No, but she has a huge crush on me,” he said smoothly, and everyone laughed. Kagome wanted to collapse and crawl away as she forced out a weak chuckle.

“Well, best wishes for the two of you, and enjoy the rest of your night!”

“Oh, I’m sure we will,” Kouga said, wrapping a hand around Kagome’s waist and pulling her inside the club doors.

Once they were safely inside, Kagome grabbed his wrist, digging her nails into his skin, and flung his arm away from her. “Alright,” she said, “I heard you out like you wanted. My answer is still, and will always be ‘no.’ Go find someone else; I’m sure there are pretty of eager hotties at the bar.”

 


 

“You weren’t kidding about the decorations, babe,” Miroku said, sitting in the smoking section and leaning back in the booth they’d manage to negotiate off of a few lesser beings. “Once again, I must ask you where you got the dancers. They’re very, hmmm, what’s the word-”

“They’re from a casting agency. Close your mouth, dear.” Sango sent him a very annoyed look as she sipped her drink, then checked her phone briefly.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Miroku said, leaning in close to her, “They’re nothing compared to what I’ve got sitting next to me.”

She squirmed a little, pushing him back gently. “Warner is right there , Houshi.”

He relented, leaning back again, cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “Wait,” he said, a mischievous smile playing at his lips, “Did you just call me ‘dear?’”

Sango coughed a little. “No.”

“Really? I must be hearing things then. This club is so loud, after all.”

“Another drink?” Sango said quickly, gathering her skirts to scoot out of the booth, “Inuyasha and company should be along shortly.”

“Here, don’t bother,” he said, scooting out of the other side, “That dress, sexy as it is, wasn’t really made for navigating a crowded dance floor. I’ll get the drinks.”

He left and returned with whiskeys for both of them, which they clinked together, then knocked back. 

“You know,” he said, “You can’t get away with calling me ‘Houshi’ forever.”

“Why on earth not?” she said, placing her chin in her hand with a flirtatious grin.

Miroku just laughed to himself like he was thinking of something utterly hilarious, then stubbed out his cigarette butt in the ashtray at the center of the table.

There was a whoop and cheer as Inuyasha and Kikyou entered the club. Everyone stopped dancing, drinking, and talking and erupted into applause. Inuyasha and Kikyou took it in stride, Kikyou’s arm wrapped around Inuyasha’s like she needed it to survive. They were immediately motioned into a corner booth on the opposite end of the room, the waiters and bartenders all fussing over them.

“Cute picture, that,” Miroku said, his lips pressed into a flat line.

“Isn’t it?” Sango said, not really paying attention. Her eyes were glued to her phone instead.

“Okay, what are you up to?” Miroku grabbed the phone from her with lightning-quick reflexes and ignored her cry of protest as he looked down at the screen.

“Houshi, give it back. Now. ” She stood over him, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“Just trying to figure out the next phase of your evil plan,” he said jokingly, ignoring her murderous tone.

“Houshi, give it fucking back.

His smile faded. “What’s got you so bent out of shape?”

“I mean it, Houshi.” She snatched it out of his grasp and shoved it into her purse, then sat back down, draining the rest of her whiskey.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender, “Tell your other boyfriend you’re sorry for being so busy. I’ll just sit here.” He smiled, a gesture of peace.

“I don’t even have one boyfriend,” Sango said tartly, pretending she didn’t see the way his face sort of fell at the comment, “And what I do with my phone on my own time is my business, not yours.”

There was a pronounced silence.

“Well, Sango,” Miroku said, his tone distantly friendly, as he stood up, draining his own glass of whiskey, “Have a good rest of your night. I’m sure Warner and company are all extremely proud of you, and whatever it is you’re up to. I’d offer to help, but as usual, you don’t seem to think you need anyone else. And you’re probably right. See you later. You can take the limo home; I’ll call a cab for myself later.”

Sango fought the urge to call out after him. Warner was watching again. Shrugging off the lump in her throat, she pulled her phone out again.

“Heard you’ll be in New York next week. Your mom finally told me about that big new job of yours. I think we should meet for dinner one night. I’ll let you know when. See you soon, pumpkin.”

She closed her eyes, sighed, and abandoned the booth to go sit at Warner’s table.

 


 

“Come on, angel face,” Kouga said, “We’re sitting over here.” He motioned to a corner booth that Sango was just getting out of and leaving abandoned. It was right in the prime traffic area of the club, and dimly lit.

“Like hell we are,” Kagome said, making a beeline for Inuyasha and Kikyou’s table at the opposite end of the room, “ You can go sit there, though. Feel free.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, throwing his arm around her shoulders. Inuyasha looked up, excited to see her, then narrowed his eyes into a pointed glare at Kouga.

She moved to slide into the booth next to Inuyasha, who let his right hand graze her knee. Kouga, of course, slid right along with her, sitting far too close for comfort.

Great. The awards ceremony all over again.

“Oh, hey there, you bunch of overly good-looking people.” Miroku appeared behind Kouga’s shoulder and edged his way in next to him.

Or maybe not. Kagome couldn’t suppress the delighted grin.

Chapter 39: Not Enough Cameras

Summary:

In which these idiots keep ordering shots and getting more wasted by the second, Kagome is getting ready to choke a bitch or two, and Inuyasha really, REALLY fucks up.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Not Enough Cameras

 

“More shots?” Kouga clinked the shotglass down on the table and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

The entire rest of the table groaned except for Kikyou, who had declined to participate and was instead sticking to champagne as per usual. She remained stuck to her phone, trying to illustrate to all involved that she was bored out of her mind.

“Absolutely not,” Kagome said, feeling herself inch closer to Inuyasha in her drunken haze and lay her head slightly on his shoulder. She felt him move to wrap a hand around her waist, but then felt him lower it as a photographer came by to take another photo.

Kikyou, in turn, seemed attached to Inuyasha's other side with velcro and kept trying to shoot Kagome very scolding looks, which she was all too happy to ignore at this point. Hell, she was three shots in.

“What do you even call those things?” she muttered, grimacing at the cloying sweetness.

Kouga leaned into her right ear. “ Starfuckers ,” he whispered, and Kagome shrank away from him. Inuyasha growled, but Miroku cut in.

“I’ll have another,” he said, nudging Kouga’s elbow to divert his attention. 

Kouga turned to him and grinned. “Anyone else?” he said, “Or all you all a bunch of pussy lightweights?”

Kikyou sniffed, obviously uncomfortable in such gauche and rowdy company.

“I’ll have one,” Inuyasha said, “but not one of those shit ones you keep ordering. I’ll get my own stuff, thanks.”

“What is this, Takahashi?” Kouga smirked. “I thought we were friends. And here you go insulting my tastes.” He ran a finger pointedly down Kagome’s forearm.

Okay I’m going to punch him. I don’t give a shit if we’re in public or if photographers can see. I’ll deal with that later. Kagome’s hand curled into a fist on the table, and she raised it-

“Waiter!” Miroku called, and Kagome lowered her fist down slowly, letting her open palm rest on the table.

“Ugh, Inuyasha,” Kikyou said, leaning her own head onto his other shoulder, “Do we have to stay here much longer?”

“What’s wrong, Kikyou?” Kagome said, a little nastily, surprising even herself at her free way of speaking, “Not enough cameras for you?”

“Hey,” Inuyasha said sternly, pulling away from both of them and fixing Kagome with a very pointed look, “None of that here.”

Ugh, I hate when he talks to me like I’m a kid. Kagome sighed, begrudgingly admitting to herself that he was probably right. This wasn’t the time nor the place. Especially with Kouga sitting right next to her, hanging on every word she said.

“Kagome,” Miroku said, “You switching to beer?”

“Yeah,” she said, casting a glare in Kikyou’s direction. 

Kikyou, of course, looked utterly shocked at her sister’s outburst. “Wh-what did I do?” she stammered, her voice high and childlike, her head still poised just above Inuyasha’s shoulder.

Kagome buried her hands in her hair, elbows on the table, and fought back a snort of derisive laughter. What did you do. Do you have a giant ream of paper where I can list grievances?

She felt Inuyasha’s knee collide with hers gentle. A warning. Ugh. She’d imagined how this whole thing would go, but actually having to act through it was something else. And of course, Inuyasha was trying to be the peacekeeper.

Has anything actually changed at all? He likes me well enough on my own, but when Kikyou comes back in the picture, he’s asking her how high he should jump. Kagome’s brain was a mess and she felt the urge to just once again slide under the table and hope no one noticed.

“Kagome, please talk to me,” Kikyou said pleadingly, reaching over Inuyasha for Kagome’s hand and gripping it tightly. 

Kagome wrenched it free. “Let’s not do this,” she said quietly, letting it be known that for now, she considered the subject fucking closed. Kikyou looked distraught. Inuyasha looked disappointed. And fuck both of them for trying to make her feel bad.

Miroku ordered the drinks, and the waiter walked away.

“Where’s Sango?” Kagome said, eager for some sort of extra distraction.

It was Miroku’s turn to have his expression darken. “She’s off with Warner,” he said shortly, gesturing over his shoulder, “Over there.”

“She should have a shot,” Kouga said in a very friendly manner.

“No, she shouldn’t,” Miroku said, his eyes fixed over his shoulder, “She’s where she wants to be right now. Leave her alone.”

Kikyou clearly followed his eyeline and turned to Inuyasha. “Should we go say hello?”

Inuyasha had apparently not been following any sort of conversation. “What?”

Kikyou just smiled like a private joke had been told, leaning further into him. “To Warner, silly. We should thank him for all the effort he’s been putting forth for us, don’t you think?”

“Don’t bother,” Miroku said quickly, and Kagome wanted to jump over Kouga and hug him. “He knows exactly what he’s doing, and what everyone here owes him. Your gratitude means next to nothing.”

Kagome tried to send Miroku a quizzical look to ask if he was okay, but was interrupted by Kouga jumping into her line of sight, holding her beer aloft in his hand.

“Give it to me, Kouga,” she said, swiping for it but being rebuffed.

“What’ll you give me?” he whispered huskily, pressing his forehead against hers.

Inuyasha’s hand shot out and caught Kouga around the wrist. With his other hand, he wrenched the beer out of the other man’s grasp and handed it to Kagome. “Cut the bullshit. Now.

Kouga just smirked at Inuyasha, and Kagome had the wonderful reminder of how short she was when a conversation could be held over her head as if she weren’t there.

“Kouga,” Inuyasha snapped, “You’re clearly not wanted here. Why don’t you get the fuck outta dodge?”

“What, and leave you with the two most beautiful ladies in the place?” Kouga said, just as nastily, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kagome elbowed Kouga in the side hard enough to make him grunt in pain, then reared back and drained her beer in about thirty seconds.

“Shots,” Miroku announced joylessly as the waiter brought the tray around.

 


 

“Come on, Kagome, one kiss. I swear I’ll make it worth your while.”

Miroku looked up in a daze at Kagome, seemingly the only one besides Kikyou even halfway upright. Kikyou, by the way, was just on her phone, texting away, seemingly unaware that the endless rounds of shots had sent the rest of her table into oblivion.

Kagome just folded her arms and leaned back into Inuyasha. His hand seemed to automatically clench around her waist protectively, but he was drunk enough to be actually stirring an empty glass and just watching the straw clink the ice back and forth.

Jesus, these Hollywood parties are the fucking worst.

“Cute,” Kouga said, leaning heavily on the table as he inched closer to Kagome, “but look where his other arm is.”

Miroku followed Kagome’s gaze to Inuyasha’s left arm, which was currently tucked in Kikyou’s lap quite comfortably. Inuyasha was clearly not registering the topic of conversation. He was off in la-la land.

“That’s not fair,” Kagome said softly, not that anyone but Miroku was listening, “He has to act friendly with her in front of everyone.”

“In front of who, exactly?” Kouga said, looking around at the club ballroom, which was growing more deserted by the minute.

Kagome glared at Kouga and tried again. “Also, he’s shitfaced.”

“Oh, yes he is,” Kouga whispered with a smirk, “but believe me, angel face, he’s been worse off than this before, and still coherent. He knows what he’s doing right now. He’s being a star. He’s winning that Oscar.”

“He deserves the Oscar,” Kagome said angrily, then turned to Miroku, who quickly had to pretend that he wasn’t paying any attention. “Miroku, are you ready to go home?”

“Are you kidding?” Miroku forced an even greater slur into his voice than was natural, “I’m shitfaced. Let’s get outta here.”

“Kagome, wait,” Kikyou said, her eyes shining, “Can we talk? Please? Somewhere private?”

Kagome’s gaze turned to her sister. Kikyou was still leaning on Inuyasha’s arm and from the dazed look on his face he wasn’t protesting it at all. Kouga was smirking at them, then at Kagome, then back at them. Miroku was already standing up, looking dog tired and shoving his pack of cigarettes into his pocket.

“Not. Fucking. Now.” Kagome dug her fists into her eyes as she stood up, gathering up the long folds of her skirt.

Kagome looked around the crowded ballroom, as if checking for spying eyes, finding none, and turned to Inuyasha, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “See you soon?” she whispered. Miroku was sure only he had caught it. Curse that long-perfected lip reading ability. 

Inuyasha was so fucking drunk, Miroku was flabbergasted that he was still sitting up. He blinked in surprise at the kiss, then turned to answer Kagome, but she was already shoving past Kouga and worming her way out of the booth to join Miroku. 

Kouga grabbed her hand. “No kiss for me, huh?”

Before she could respond, he’d pecked her on the cheek quick as a flash, and all she could do was jump backward and snap a panicked gaze in Inuyasha’s direction. He just glared silently, his hand clearly still resting on Kikyou’s knee.

“You...you…” Kagome couldn’t find the words as she turned to Kouga, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand.

Inuyasha made to stand up, stumbling and bracing his hands on the table. Kikyou immediately pulled him back into a seating position, her arms around his shoulders. He slumped backwards, still growling, but seemed to let his body relax.

She stumbled a little on those high heels she wasn’t used to, and took Miroku’s offered arm with clear gratitude as they turned to make a break for it. She cast a final look back at the booth. Kouga had already cleared out, and Inuyasha and Kikyou sat alone. She was whispering something sweetly into his ear, and she could see him calming down visibly.

 


 

“What happened with Sango?” Kagome said as they pushed through the ballroom doors. She shot a glance back over her shoulder to look at the Warner table, where Sango seemed to be talking with them quite easily, despite the clear rigidity in her posture.

“What happened?” Miroku said, and she was shocked at how quickly his tone had turned to one of bitterness and anger, “I’m fucking done.”

Kagome blinked as he stepped onto the curb to hail a cab. “You’re what? I thought you guys patched things up!”

“Yeah, so did I,” he growled, “but more and more, I’m starting to realize I can’t be with someone who’s all about the job and nothing else.”

“Miroku,” Kagome said gently, her words slurring slightly, “A few months ago, that was you too. Granted, I always liked you, but you sort of grew a nice side to you overnight. Maybe just give her some time?”

“I have been,” Miroku all but growled, “and every time I think it’s getting better, she just shuts off and tells me in no uncertain terms that I mean nothing to her.”

Kagome wobbled a little on her heels, and clutched at his shoulder to steady herself. “Sorry,” she said quickly, then continued, “But surely that’s not true, right?”

“Whether it is or not, I’m past the point of caring,” he muttered as a cab slowed to a halt in front of them and he opened the door. “I’m Miroku fucking Houshi. I’m a sex god. I’m a big shot. I don’t need to be crawling after a woman who does her best at every fucking turn to show me she’s not interested.”

“Kouga could take a few lessons from you,” Kagome muttered as she slid into the back of the car.

“So straight home?” Miroku said, climbing in next to her and shutting the car door behind him.

Please ,” she begged, feeling frustrated tears spring to her eyes.

 


 

Inuyasha’s eyes refused to open. His head felt like someone had taken a fucking jackhammer to it. The only thing he could do was groan in pain and try to turn over in bed.

And then, the kiss of an angel to his left temple. He smiled, eyes still closed, and wrapped his arms around her. He felt her face snuggle into the curve of his neck, her hand tracing gentle patterns across his collarbone.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t remember.” The voice was soft and sweet, and there followed a contented sigh.

Inuyasha froze and his eyes snapped open. The hair fanned all around him was long, black, and pin-straight.

“Want some breakfast?” Kikyou said brightly, her face inches from his and her mouth curled into a smile.

Chapter 40: What The Fucking Fuck

Summary:

In which Kagome naturally finds out immediately, Inuyasha is desperate to clean up his mess, and Kikyou is back on her bullshit.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty

What The Fucking Fuck

 

Hojo was happily preparing Kikyou’s coffee in the kitchen (black with exactly one-half sweetener packet; her instructions were specific as always) when a male cry almost sent him flying out of his skin.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Hojo blinked and tried to send his heartbeat back to a manageable rate. Then he decided that he should probably bring Mr. Takahashi a coffee as well. Probably should text Kagome to ask how he preferred it.

 


 

Inuyasha tore himself out of the bed, almost falling backwards when he tangled himself in the white Egyptian linen. Kikyou just sat up, propped up on her hands, clad in a very alluring bathrobe and clearly little else. She looked both surprised and a little hurt at his outburst. 

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded, her bottom lip quivering slightly, “Is this childish display really that necessary?” She sat further upright, crossed her legs and folded her arms.

Inuyasha could only splutter nonsense syllables as he raised a shaking finger to her. “You - me,” he choked out, “We - oh god, no, no, no, Kagome-”

“Just stop,” Kikyou held a hand up, looking extremely wounded. Her voice was trembling a little as well. “You obviously have the lowest possible opinion of me. I get it.”

“What?” Inuyasha looked up from where he’d been clawing at his hair, nearly doubled over at the waist. 

Kikyou refused to meet his eyes as she pulled her knees to her chest. “Did you think I’d... take advantage of you like that? When you were too drunk to even walk last night? You really do hate me, don’t you?” She started to sniffle.

“Wait a second,” Inuyasha said, looking down at himself. He was shirtless, that was true, but he was still wearing his pants from last night, “What the fuck happened, Kikyou? Tell me.”

She buried her face in her arms, ignoring him. 

With a sigh, he sank back onto the edge of the bed, propping his elbows onto his knees and taking a few deep breaths to try and calm his panicked state.

“If you’re so worried about it, we didn’t have sex ,” Kikyou said, her words muffled behind her arms, “Glad to see you find me that repulsive.”

Inuyasha turned around and slid on his knees toward her. “Kikyou,” he said, trying with a little difficulty to peel her arms away from her face, “What. Happened.”

She had tears streaking out of those perfect brown eyes. “You weren’t in any state to get home by yourself,” she said softly, “Even with a driver. I wanted to make sure you were okay. You could barely stand up straight.”

Damn Kouga and his fucking shots.

“Besides,” she said, “you wouldn’t let go of my hand after Kagome left.”

Oh god.

“So we came back here,” she said, and her eyes fell on where his hands still held her wrists, then turned back to his own. He dropped her all too quickly.

“Kikyou,” Inuyasha said, trying to keep his voice gentle and patient, “Where are the rest of my clothes?”

“I had Hojo hang them up! It was a McQueen suit! ” She was utterly scandalized, clearly. Same old Kikyou.

“So we didn’t do anything?” Inuyasha said, unable to keep the smile of utter relief from rising to his lips, “Nothing at all?”

Kikyou bit her lip and looked away.

Oh GOD.

“What?” Inuyasha demanded, grabbing Kikyou by the shoulders.

“It’s my fault,” she said, her cheeks reddening and her eyes refusing to look up, “After Hojo helped me get you tucked into bed and I was getting you some water, you asked me where Kagome was, and I guess I started crying because you grabbed me and held me.”

She looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “I couldn’t help it,” she stammered, “I just thought, if I let him hold me just a little while longer, I’ll be okay. I’ll be able to get over it…”

She dissolved into quiet, delicate sobs, resting her forehead against his collarbone. Inuyasha’s brain was like oatmeal.

The bedroom door opened and Hojo tiptoed in, bearing a tray with two coffees on it. He said nothing, just gave a friendly smile with some terror behind the eyes as he set the tray up next to the bed, then took the McQueen suit in question from the closet door and laid it on the back of the nearest chair. Inuyasha just glared at him until he left the way he came, walking backwards and giving a small frightened wave.

“So...we…?” Inuyasha gently prodded, patting Kikyou on the back and trying not to sound too unfeeling. He needed answers , dammit. 

“Just held each other,” Kikyou said, “All night. And I thought maybe this morning I’d get a miracle and you wouldn’t regret it, that maybe you’d choose me after all. I’m so sorry, Inuyasha. I was weak. I still am weak. Over you, I mean.” Her long lashes dusted tears across her cheeks.

“Hey,” he said, lifting her chin up to make her look at him, trying not to look too relieved because it was a bit rude, “Listen. I think you’re looking at me with rose-colored glasses on. We weren’t always as happy as you remember, right? There were bad times just as much as there were good.” He didn’t add that it had taken him realizing how he felt about Kagome to put those bad times in perspective.

“I just keep thinking about how I’d do it over again if I could,” Kikyou said, “And I would have been more considerate of Kagome’s feelings too. She still won’t talk to me, Inuyasha. I just want to make things right and for you to be happy.”

Inuyasha couldn’t exactly say that Kagome had asked in no uncertain terms for him to keep her name out of conversations with Kikyou. “Give her time,” he said simply, “She’s still a bit bruised and lashing out. Let her be for now.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Kikyou pulled away from him, wiping her eyes and pulling her robe around her a little more tightly.

A phone buzzed on the end table. “It’s mine,” Kikyou said, ducking to grab it, then scanning the text message, her face growing both dismayed and frightened.

“Naraku again?” Inuyasha said, that old familiar disgust rearing up in his stomach.

“Yes,” she said, immediately casting her phone aside and burying her face in her hands, “He won’t stop.”

“Block his number,” Inuyasha suggested, standing to take a sip of coffee and then moving to throw his suit back on, “That’s what I did.”

They both paused and looked at each other. Inuyasha wondered how often he could stick his foot in his mouth around this woman. Probably thousands of times before the end.

“Anyway, I gotta go.” Inuyasha could think of nothing better to say as he pulled on his jacket, “Kagome’s probably wondering if I’m alive. Or she’s pissed off. Either way, I gotta go.”

Kikyou just gave him a sad smile. “Of course you do,” she said, “I’ll see you in New York in a few days, okay?”

He smiled back, finally allowing himself to feel that wash of pure fucking relief. “What color this time?”

“You pick,” she said, “I’ll wear anything you like this time.”

“Uh, okay,” he said, “Well, I’ll let you know. Later, Kikyou.”

And he ducked out of there as quickly as his legs could carry him, passing the little twerp on the way out.

“I called a car for you, sir,” Hojo said as Inuyasha tore past him, “It’s in the driveway.”

Inuyasha stopped and sighed. “Thanks, kid,” he said, still unable to remember his name but realizing he had been rude to this point, “See you around.”

 


 

“Miss Higurashi?” Hojo poked his head back in through the bedroom door, “Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

Kikyou sat on the bed, texting furiously. She looked up. Her face was dry, not a tear in sight.

“I’m just fine, Hojo,” she said with a sweet smile, “Can you do me a favor and get rid of that extra coffee?” She motioned to Inuyasha’s barely-touched mug on the tray.

Hojo immediately scooped it up in his hands, feeling such a stirring of loyalty. Kikyou was so good at pretending nothing bothered her. Poor thing. He wasn’t sure what was going on between her and Inuyasha, but they seemed to be patching things up, slowly but surely. Hojo knew he wished them all the best.

“One more thing,” Kikyou said as Hojo turned to leave, “Can you call Sango Ryoshi and tell her I need to see her as soon as possible? Thanks!”

 


 

“What. The fucking. Fuck.”

Miroku looked up from his phone. He sat in the breakfast nook of his home, drinking a strong-as-hell Bloody Mary and scanning the gossip headlines as he did every morning.

“Morning,” he said to Kagome, who had just appeared in the room, in her customary tee shirt and boxers, her hair a wild halo of curls. She was staring at her own phone, eyes narrowed in that dangerous way that Miroku knew well enough to stay away from.

“Should I ask?” Miroku said hesitantly. Kagome stood stock still, just chewing on her lip and seemingly trying to remain calm.

“Hojo,” she said slowly, deliberately, “Just texted me asking how Inuyasha likes his morning coffee.”

Oh shit. Miroku gulped.

“So he was there the whole night,” Kagome said, like she was merely stating a fact without a care in the world, “This is just - fucking - wow .”

“Come here,” Miroku said, getting up, taking her by the shoulders gently, and placing her on one of the kitchen barstools, “Sit down before you fall down.”

“I’m calling him right now,” she said, her hands clearly shaking, “I deserve an explanation.”

Miroku knew it wouldn’t work, knew that her number was still blocked. But the part of him that still valued self-preservation refused to let him mention this to Kagome. She would kill him. Like, really properly kill him. He would tell her later. Or better yet, find a way to get ahold of Inuyasha’s phone, unblock the number without being noticed, and get it back to normal. No one would ever be the wiser. 

He was going to die. By one hand or the other.

“Ugh, I can’t get through,” Kagome said, slamming the phone down on the table, “You know what? Fuck this. I’m buying a new phone. One that fucking works. And one Kouga doesn’t have the goddamn number to.” She got up and stomped into the guest room to get dressed.

Miroku almost laughed out loud, the breath leaving his lungs in a great whoosh. Holy shit, I must have given money to the right homeless guy, because luck is on my fucking side right now.

Returning to his own phone, he decided now would not be a prudent time to tell Kagome that her face was all over the front pages of every gossip site worth their salt.

“MEET KAGOME HIGURASHI: THE BABY SISTER QUIETLY TAKING OVER THE FASHION WORLD, ONLINE FANDOMS, AND THE HEARTS OF THE PUBLIC, ALL IN A DAY’S WORK!” That was Yura. So dramatic.

“KAGOME HIGURASHI STUNS IN SILVER AND BLACK AT LA FILM CRITICS AWARDS, DENIES DATING KOUGA OKAMI.”

“‘MY SISTER IS SORT OF THE PERFECT HUMAN’: HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE KAGOME HIGURASHI INTERVIEW EVERYONE’S TALKING ABOUT.”

Miroku scoffed. This had Sango’s fingerprints all over it.

Sango.

He shook his head, cleared his throat, and gave a small wave goodbye to Kagome as she flitted out the door. “Don’t forget your key this time!” he called, unsure if she heard him or not.

He lit a cigarette and put his phone down. 

“I guess now’s as good a time as any to pack for New York,” he muttered.

 


 

“Come on, Kagome, pick up,” Inuyasha cursed under his breath as he weaved in and out of traffic. No answer. The damn thing wasn’t even ringing longer than a few seconds before cutting out.

Just my fucking luck. 

A car beside him laid on the horn. “Asshole!” The driver leaned out of his window to flip the bird. Inuyasha turned to him and just growled under his breath, and the guy’s eyes immediately widened and he backed the fuck down.

Great. Next headline tomorrow: “Inuyasha insane with rage attacks helpless motorists with rental car on Pacific Coast Highway. Mental evaluation and arrest imminent.”

None of that fucking mattered. What mattered was getting out in front of this whole mess of a situation. What mattered was telling Kagome exactly what had happened before someone else told her and she drew the wrong conclusions.

Miroku. Call Miroku, you idiot. Right, right. He pressed the button and told the car to dial the number.

 


 

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Kikyou,” Sango took a last drag of her cigarette (she’d broken down and bought a pack this morning) and stubbed it out in her neglected coffee mug on the desk, “The studio’s got a full publicity plan already in place for the New York Critic Awards, the Globes, all of it. Oscar noms are announced after the Globes. You do the math. We need every card we can play right now.”

Listening to the buzzing on the other end, Sango winced slightly as she halfheartedly scribbled a few notes to herself for her meeting with Warner in thirty minutes.

“Yes, I understand that Kouga is making this more complicated than necessary,” she said slowly, “but I’m taking orders from my boss, who wants to push that angle all he can. If you’re so concerned about it, maybe you should take it up with him personally?”

The intercom on her desk buzzed. “Miss Kagome Higurashi to see you, Miss Ryoshi.”

Sango paused mid-scribble. “Kikyou, I’ll call you back.” She hung up the phone and pressed the receiver button on the intercom. “Send her in.”

Chapter 41: A Friendly Moment Between Friends

Summary:

In which Kagome asks Sango for a big favor, Inuyasha keeps panicking, and Miroku catches up on some "Jersey Shore."

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty-One

A Friendly Moment Between Friends

 

“Hello there, Inuyasha,” Miroku said casually, tossing some shirts into his all-leather luggage carry-on bag and balancing the phone between his shoulder and his ear, “Been a busy boy, haven’t we?”

“Is Kagome there? I can’t get ahold of her.”

“Nope, you just missed her. Something’s wrong with her phone, poor dear. She said she was going out to buy a new one. A new number as well. Seems a lot of people keep pestering her.”

“Okay, listen, Miroku, the second you see her, please tell her to call me with the new number, okay? This is important.”

“Oh,” Miroku crossed to his bedroom patio door, lit a smoke, and leaned against the glass floor-length window, “Is this about you shacking up with Kikyou last night?”

Miroku practically heard the cracking noise as Inuyasha’s brain broke. He took another drag of his cigarette, shaking his head ruefully.

“...Does Kagome know?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘know,’” Miroku said, “She knows you were there all last night, and she knows that Kikyou’s new little assistant fellow brought you two coffee in bed this morning. I wouldn’t call that ‘knowing,’ but I would call that ‘drawing logical goddamn conclusions,’ Inuyasha.”

“Nothing happened! I just passed out!”

Miroku audibly scoffed, surprised at how irritated he was getting on Kagome’s behalf. “Is that all?

“Well…”

“Yes?”

“It’s none of your fucking business right now, Houshi. I need to talk to Kagome. Did she say which phone store she was going to?”

“No, of course she didn’t,” Miroku said, rolling his eyes, “She’s a fucking adult. She doesn’t need to check in with me all the time. And don’t tell me you’ve got some idea of walking into a public phone store and just prostrating yourself on the ground in front of her, telling her it was all a misunderstanding and that your love for her is eternal and endless-”

“Miroku?”

“Yes?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You’re the boss.”

“Fuck. Fucking fuckity FUCK.”

“You said it.” Miroku leaned over and flicked ash into the tray on the nightstand.

“So what do we do?”

“Well, I’m going to finish packing for New York. You probably should do the same. I’ll give Kagome the message when I see her.” 

Miroku was sort of amazed at himself as he pressed the ‘end’ button. Normally he’d have taken every opportunity to prolong this conversation and dig the knife in a little deeper in Inuyasha’s side, but he was feeling weary and exhausted lately. Just...not in the mood.

He groaned, letting himself back up a few steps and collapse onto the bed, his hand over his eyes. His head landed on the edge of the open suitcase.

“Ow.”

 


 

 

“Kagome,” Sango said, standing up as the younger girl walked in, fighting the unconscious urge to stay out of the reach of her fists as Kagome sat down in the chair opposite the desk, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Kagome said, “Why do you ask?” She distractedly removed her sunglasses and tossed them into her purse-backpack-thing. Her hair was windblown and wild, and she hadn’t seemed to notice that her shoes didn’t quite match.

“...No reason,” Sango said, the look of concern on her face quite real and making this all the more awkward, given their frosty interactions of late. She sat back down. “Do you want a coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Kagome said, and Sango called her secretary on the intercom and ordered two.

“So what can I do for you?” Sango stirred her fresh coffee as she added a tiny helping of honey to it.

“I want a straight answer.”

Sango raised an eyebrow. “I’ll...do my best?”

“How many photos are there of Inuyasha leaving Kikyou’s house this morning, and what are you planning to do with them?”

The only noise for a few moments was the sound of Sango’s plastic spoon scraping against the paper cup. Sango simply stared at Kagome’s face. She looked outwardly calm, but her legs were crossed, one ankle bobbing up and down frantically as she sipped her coffee, refusing to meet Sango’s eyes.

“One photo,” Sango finally said softly, “Only one. The only one that came out even semi-clearly. And it’s still a blurry shot of him through the car windows. Not super obvious. I was actually shocked when I got it this morning. You’d think these idiots would learn that when they rent cars they need to specify extra-tinted windows .”

Kagome winced a little and took another long sip of coffee. “One photo,” she said, a humorless smile on her face, “You must be terribly disappointed.”

Sango swallowed. The last time Kagome had smiled like that, she’d tried to rearrange Sango’s face.

“I’m guessing it’s going on Yura’s blog right about now?” Kagome uncrossed her legs and sat back in her chair, hands clasped around the coffee cup.

“Probably,” Sango said softly, “But I didn’t arrange for these paps, Kagome. It wasn’t me this time.” I didn’t even know to expect these photos, because Houshi is now ignoring me and didn’t give me the courtesy of a heads-up...

“I didn’t think it was,” Kagome said, sighing and closing her eyes as if meditating, “I know exactly who called the paps.”

The answer remained unspoken, but Sango knew they were both on the same wavelength.

“So I have one more question,” Kagome said, sitting forward, “I know there’s no way out of this contract I’ve signed. Not without my entire life becoming tabloid fodder for Warner and Kikyou and everyone else in this shitty town. But I want to skip the New York Critics Awards if at all possible.”

Skip the awards?” Sango stammered. Warner wouldn’t like that. He’d told Sango at their last lunch meeting about all the photocalls he was planning with both Higurashi sisters, going on and on about how having Kagome there humanized Kikyou and made her all the more appealing to the voting body, et cetera.

“I don’t have an excuse,” Kagome said, her calm demeanor starting to come undone. She set her coffee on the edge of Sango’s desk and clasped her hands together, elbows on her knees. Her hands were trembling slightly. “Not one that anyone will care about anyway. But I promise to be back and ready for the Globes. I’ll arrive in style. I’ll even wear a glowing sign that says ‘I Love My Sister’ if they want me to.”

“Have you talked to Inuyasha yet? About...well, about last night’s events ?” Sango tried to word it as tactfully as possible.

“Not yet,” Kagome said, a tear escaping her eye, “And I will. But this isn’t about him right now. It’s about me. I have to get out of here. Away from all of you.”

Kagome angrily wiped the tear away as if it was a mere annoyance and sat back in the chair again, adopting her familiar cross-legged pose defiantly. “It’s not like I asked for any of this,” she muttered, her hand going over her eyes, “I was fine just loving him from afar. I was fine believing my sister gave a shit about me deep down. I was fine having no one know me from Adam. And now...now… just two weeks, Sango. Two weeks off. I’m actually begging.”

Sango’s heart broke at the sight of her, and the heartbreak suddenly turned to resolve. Before she could change her mind, she reached out a hand (noting that her own was shaking a little as well) and pressed her intercom button again.

“Alicia,” she said to her secretary, “Hold my calls and cancel all my meetings for this morning. I’ve got some things to take care of.”

 


 

“Hello?” Inuyasha nearly dropped the phone out of his hand. This was an unknown number. It had to be - 

“Inuyasha. It’s me. Are you okay? Did you tell Kagome about...about last night yet?”

Inuyasha sighed. He really did need to add Kikyou’s name to his contacts again. It would save confusion.

“No, not yet,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at his newly packed luggage. “I’ll find her, though.”

“Find her? What, is she missing?”

“Not exactly,” Inuyasha ran a hand through his hair and sighed again, “She’s out running errands, I guess. Her phone isn’t working so she’s buying a new one.”

“I hope she’s willing to be mature about everything,” Kikyou’s voice was quiet, like a mouse. “Surely she’ll understand, right?”

“I have no idea,” Inuyasha said bluntly, ignoring the panicked frenzy that the notion sent him into.

“Well...can you call me as soon as you’ve told her? I want to know where we stand.”

Inuyasha wasn’t sure who the ‘we’ in that statement was referring to, but he didn’t feel like analyzing right now. “I’ll do my best.”

“Have you packed for New York yet?” Subject changed. Thank god.

“Yeah, I just finished.”

A small intimate giggle on the other end. “What color tux did you decide on?”

“Just a black Westwood tux.”

“Simple black?” Another small giggle. “That’s very unlike you.”

I didn’t feel like being creative about it this time.

“Yeah,” he said simply, “But hey, you have free reign to pick whatever dress you want. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks, honey. I’ll see you and Kagome on the flight to New York, okay? And don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll understand that it was all just a friendly moment between friends.”

A friendly moment between friends that involved embracing through the night. Inuyasha was getting less and less optimistic about his chances of smoothing things over the longer he went without talking to Kagome.

He hung up the phone without a goodbye and let himself slump onto the edge of the bed, his hair hanging over his shoulders.

“Nazuna,” he called, “I need my cigarettes.”

 


 

“Are you kidding me?” Warner growled, smacking his hand on the desk loudly. Sango refused to let herself wince and stood her ground.

“Apparently she completely forgot to tell us about it,” Sango said with a gentle shrug, “Silly kid. But how could she have known you had such plans for her?” She fought to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Easy girl, he’s your boss and he’s super overpowered. Like, super overpowered.

“So we’re cancelling all the press events for her for two weeks? ” The large man was nearly foaming at the mouth, “This is unacceptable, Sango. Absolutely unacceptable.”

“The kid has a commitment to her job,” Sango said, “She had this photography shoot booked months ago. She didn’t realize we’d be commandeering her entire life for a whole awards season.” She knew she shouldn’t be impressed with her own ability to spin shit, but she always was. If Miroku had been here, he would have raised a glass in salute again.

Ugh, get out of my head, Houshi. She cleared her throat and continued.

“Besides, Mr. Warner,” she said, knowing how well he responded when she put just the right sweet tone to her voice, “This is another fantastic angle. Why not push the fact that she’s a semi-pro photographer? Let her take intimate shots of Inuyasha and Kikyou getting ready for the Globes. A whole behind-the-scenes spread. Right in time for the end of the Oscar voting period.”

She saw the wheels turning in his head and knew she had him.

A few minutes later, she returned to her own office, where Kagome was waiting, standing by the window nervously. She smiled and gave a wordless thumbs-up.

Kagome seemed to let the relief wash over her and let herself smile back. Sango couldn’t help her reaction; she stepped forward and folded Kagome into a tight hug. Kagome seemed surprised at first, but then slipped her arms around Sango’s back and returned the squeeze.

“I’m so sorry,” Sango whispered, the lump in her throat choking her voice down, “For...you know. Everything.”

“I forgive you,” Kagome whispered, and Sango had no doubt that she actually meant it. Kagome meant everything she said.

“Will you at least keep me updated?” Sango said hesitantly after a few moments, “Let me know how you’re doing?”

“Sure,” Kagome said, “I’m about to go change my phone number, but I’ll either text you or have Miroku do it.”

Sango grimaced. “I think you’d better do it.” There was too much to think about right now without thinking about how much of a fuckup she was with the one man she’d ever wanted in this world.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks, then,” Kagome said, stepping out of the hug, “Take care of yourself, Sango.”

“You too.”

 


 

 

“Oh, hi there,” Miroku said, looking up from his whiskey and coke.

“Right where I left you,” Kagome said, unceremoniously dropping her keys and backpack onto the end table and pulling out her new phone.

“What did you get? Please don’t say the iPhone 10. I hear it’s vastly overrated.”

Kagome scoffed. “I got the free phone that came with the plan. Here, I’m calling you. Save the new number.”

Miroku did so. “Inuyasha called,” he said, finishing off his drink and kicking back on the sofa, his eyes returning to the rerun of some trash reality show, “He seemed a little concerned.”

Kagome sighed, leaning against the wall and running a hand over her face. It was now or never, she supposed. She really, really didn’t want to do this. Already her heart was like a dead weight in her chest.

“I guess I’ll call him and tell him to come over,” she mumbled, crossing to the fridge and grabbing a beer, then chugging like her life depended on it. 

“Go ahead,” Miroku said, spinning the TV remote in his hand like he was some sort of Harlem fucking Globetrotter, “We can all watch ‘Jersey Shore’ together like one big happy family.”

Kagome glared at him. “Maybe I’ll just go to him.”

“That’s probably a better idea. I’ve got some binge-watching to do before we make our flight tonight.”

“I’m not going.”

“What?” He sat up straight. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said, grabbing up her keys and backpack and opening up the door again. 

Miroku scoffed and laid back down on the couch. “No one ever tells me shit anymore,” he griped. But then again, why was he complaining? He had to see whether or not Sammi Sweetheart and Ronnie would get back together this episode.

Remember when you were the busiest man in Hollywood? 

 


 

“Your car for the airport will be here in three hours,” Nazuna said, sniffing in disapproval at him as she passed, “Sango Ryoshi’s office just called to let you know.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Inuyasha said grumpily, downing the last of what was now three beers and clunking it loudly onto the coffee table.

“Use a coaster,” Nazuna said testily, taking the empty bottles away as Inuyasha immediately cracked into another one. She shoved an old magazine (with Kikyou’s face on it, no less) underneath the entire six-pack to keep it from staining the wood and walked off without another word.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, not really listening. He was dimly aware that he heard the doorbell ring, but didn’t look up from his phone, where he was simply staring, waiting for it to ring. He would wait all night if he had to.

If she even calls me , he thought bitterly. He might have fucked this all up beyond any recognition, and that was becoming clearer and clearer as the hours passed without any word.

Of course, what the hell would you think if you were her?

He sat his beer down on the coffee table (on a coaster, as Nazuna had asked) and characteristically ran a hand through his hair. He always seemed to do that when he didn’t know anything better to do.

“Can I have one of those?”

That beautiful, sweet, quiet voice. His gaze snapped up.

She wore a simple tee shirt and jeans, looking younger than usual, more like the Kagome he’d met all those years ago. Her hair was down, flowing freely, and her face was fixed with a warm smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He stood up and rushed toward her, ready to take her in his arms and mutter every apology, every explanation he could put into words, but she shrugged out of his grasp, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Beer, please,” she said softly, not meeting his eyes, “We have to talk.”

Chapter 42: Can I Sit Down Now?

Summary:

In which Kagome makes a tough choice regarding her relationship with Inuyasha, Inuyasha most assuredly does NOT take it well, and Miroku juggles babysitting bratty celebrities and pretending to ignore Sango.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty-Two

Can I Sit Down Now?

 

Inuyasha, feeling very much humbled and also like he would do anything in the world for her right now if she would but ask him, wordlessly returned to the couch and sat down, opening a bottle for her and holding it out.

“Thanks,” she said softly, taking a sip and sitting on the armchair across from him.

“Can I get you anything, Miss Kagome?” Nazuna swept into the room again, looking excited and animated again for once.

“Oh, no,” Kagome said, “No thank you. I’m fine with this.” She held up the beer with a friendly smile. Nazuna nodded, glancing from Kagome to Inuyasha in confusion, and quickly excused herself from the room once again.

Silence. Awkward, awkward silence. Was she angry? She didn’t seem angry. She should be angry, he knew.

So he did what he did best - word vomit.

“We didn’t do anything,” he exclaimed, “I swear to you, Kagome. I just got drunk and passed out.”

“In her bed?” Kagome guessed, and the sadness and resignation in her eyes was almost too much for him to handle.

He couldn’t find the words to respond.

“I mean,” she said, her voice lighthearted as she took another generous sip of her beer, “I expected this would happen. I know my sister. I know how she works. It’s just-”

And the tears sprang to her eyes and all Inuyasha wanted to do was get up and hold her tightly or maybe find a time machine and go back and fix it just fix it -

Kagome,” he tried again, somehow knowing it was futile, that he had no leg to stand on, “I promise nothing happened. Ask Kikyou, she’ll tell you the same thing. And this morning, Kikyou told me again that all she wants is for the two of us to be happy. That she misses me, yes, but she understands that I love-”

“Don’t you dare.” Kagome’s eyes were suddenly hard as iron. “You don’t get to say that right now. Not to me, anyway.”

Inuyasha shrank back, feeling like a little kid being reprimanded and also feeling like someone had just kicked a hole in his gut.

Almost as quickly as it had come, the glare in her eyes vanished and she sighed. “Sorry,” she murmured, “I didn’t want to get angry. I still don’t want to get angry. If I get angry and lose my cool, then she wins.”

“What?”

“Besides,” she continued, ignoring his query, “This will be the last time we see each other for a while. I want the memory to be happy.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I got a job. A photography job,” she said with a small smile, though she kept looking at her hands as she spoke.

That’s amazing, he would have said under any other circumstances, I’m so proud of you! But he knew he should be waiting for the catch.

“It’s in Amsterdam,” she murmured, then her eyes met his and her smile seemed to slip a little, “I’ll be gone two weeks. I’m shooting a whole bunch of bands in this one club-”

“Two weeks?” Inuyasha interjected, unable to keep the hopeless look off his face.

“Yes.”

“You’re skipping the awards. You’re not coming with us.” He almost whispered the words.

“That’s right.” Her tone was gentle, but final. “Both the New York ones and the Critics Choice. But I’ll be rooting for you from afar.”

“What have I done,” he said, collapsing back into the sofa, his voice cracking with the strain.

“Whatever you did or didn’t do, this is something I have to do for myself .” She chugged the rest of her beer, sat it on the coffee table with a thunk, and sat back, crossing her arms and legs in that defiant Kagome pose.

“I told you, nothing happened!” He knew he sounded like a weak little baby and he didn’t care. He had to make her understand. “I was just shitfaced. And I was confused. It had nothing to do with betraying you!”

“That’s funny,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “because I recall being almost equally shitfaced most of the evening, what with my tolerance being a running joke around here and all, and I didn’t immediately go fall into bed with Kouga or any other random guy.”

“We didn’t fall into bed, ” he tried again, choosing to ignore the very hypocritical stir of anger in his guts at the mention of Kouga, “I swear to you, Kagome. I don’t remember much about last night, but I know that for sure.”

“You’re missing the whole fucking point,” she spat, her face screwing up in anger, then she seemed to remember herself and her expression relaxed. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, seemingly steeling herself up for something, then opened her eyes and spoke again. “You have some shit to figure out, Inuyasha.”

“No I don’t.” He knew the protest sounded weak as shit.

“Yes, you fucking do. You need to take a long, hard look at yourself and what you want and who you want. I’m tired of being played for a fool here. You know there was a photo of you leaving her house this morning, right?”

“What?”

“Yep. Someone called the paps and had them hide in the bushes outside her gate. By all accounts and assumptions, you and Kikyou are back together. Well done.”

“Who called the paps?”

“Think,” Kagome said, her eyes narrowing. It seemed she couldn’t help sounding bitter, and he couldn’t blame her, honestly. “Think really hard , Inuyasha.”

“You’re starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist!” he said, trying to shake himself out of his own doubt and fury at the idea of being taken advantage of for the sake of headlines.

“Am I? You’re probably right. Like I said, I know my sister and I now know what she’s capable of as of the past few weeks. But maybe I am crazy. Maybe I am seeing things where they aren’t.”

He knew she had more to say, so he just remained silent and sullen. She looked at the beer bottle on the table, then at the now-nearly-empty six pack, seemed to realize something, and grabbed a coaster to put under the bottle. Her hands were shaking a little as she sat back. She refused to meet his eyes.

“Look,” she said softly, “It’s only been a few weeks since - since you and I - what I’m trying to say is, I get it. It can’t be easy to compare a month or so with me to eight years with my sister. I don’t have to like it, but I get it.”

Inuyasha balled a hand into a fist, still saying nothing.

“And that’s why I’m going,” she said, “I need to get away from here. From all of you. Sango fixed me up with the job on a moment’s notice, and I’m going to go and I’m going to be amazing so they tell all their friends in the music business what a great stage photographer I am. I even got a fucking Instagram to post my pictures on. Hell has frozen over, huh?” She clasped her hands together and leaned forward, clearly trying to control the trembling.

All the protests, all the arguments died in his throat. She deserves that more than anything. More than I deserve her, for damn sure.

“So what happens after two weeks when you come back?” He knew his tone of voice was still petulant, but there were thousands of emotions running through him at once right now and he had little to no control which one came out when he spoke. Kagome seemed the only person capable of doing this kind of number on him.

“Honestly?” she said, her face going from an even smile to a look of almost physical pain, “I have no idea.”

 


 

“So what’s this about not going to New York?”

Kagome sighed and dropped her stuff by the front door. Miroku wasn’t going to let her have a minute to breathe, was he?

“I’ve got a photography gig,” she said, glancing over to where he sat on the couch, smoking a cigarette, “I’ve had a photography gig for months now. I just forgot about it.’

“Kagome, darlin’, this is me ,” he said grumpily, “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. You’ve got an excuse to skip the awards, great. So what happened with you and Inuyasha?”

“We talked,” she said simply, trying to keep her voice light, “I told him I’m leaving for a few weeks. I need a break from all this shit.”

“So you dumped him?”

Kagome blinked. “I - I don’t know if you’d call it that… Were we even together in enough capacity for this to count as dumping him?

“And how did he take that?”

“He was surprised.”

“No shit. I bet he didn’t even realize that all the gossip blogs are freaking out that he and Kikyou are back together.” Miroku ashed his cigarette, then took another drag. “He’s a dense moron.”

Kagome couldn’t help the small smile. “He is,” she said, then immediately felt those damn tears start up again. “Ugh, sorry,” she mumbled, wiping at her cheeks, “I’m trying to be the strong one here, but-”

Miroku slapped his hand down on the couch next to him. “Get your ass over here.”

She sat down and he immediately pulled her to him, letting her cry into his shoulder. 

“Where you going?” he said conversationally.

“Amsterdam.” Her voice was muffled behind her hands. “Got a gig with a metal club. Two weeks and a ton of bands.”

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, kid,” he said, ruffling her hair, “And don’t worry. I’m gonna give Inuyasha plenty of shit for you.”

She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. 

 


 

Sango realized as she boarded the private studio jet that she’d been taking plane trips all wrong her entire life. Who didn’t want basically a sofa to themselves, a desk for working on the go, and an open bar, with an in-flight movie thrown in for kicks?

She dropped her Vuitton duffel onto the seat beside her and immediately sat down with a sigh. 

“Champagne for the flight, Miss Ryoshi?”

Fuck yes. “Don’t mind if I do, thank you.”

As she took a sip, she wondered how Kagome was faring. She’d booked a flight for Amsterdam later in the day. I guess we’ll find out how she’s doing on Instagram. That had been Warner’s one insistence - that Kagome’s photography cred have an online presence and following. Kagome actually had seen the value of this and hadn’t put up a fight about it.

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it.

“Your mom almost forgot to tell me you’re flying in today. I’ll see you soon, pumpkin.”

Feeling somewhat dizzy and ill all of a sudden, Sango dropped the phone onto the tray table and drained her champagne glass as Kikyou and her entourage clambered into the jet.

“Sango, darling!” Kikyou rushed to her and air-kissed her cheek, “So good to see you!”

“Likewise,” Sango mumbled as Kikyou’s people shrugged past them to the rear of the plane. Hojo gave her a small wave of greeting as he struggled under the weight of what looked like six or seven different designer luggage bags. Poor kid.

 Before Kikyou could say anything else, there was a thump on the stairwell outside leading up to the plane, loud enough for everyone on the plane to pause and look up.

“Ah, dammit!”

“Come on, get up.”

“My fucking coffee!”

“We’ll get you another coffee, Inuyasha. God knows you need it.”

And Miroku and Inuyasha appeared, Miroku apparently half-carrying, half-dragging Inuyasha up the stairs. Inuyasha’s white shirt was splattered with what looked like an entire cappuccino and he looked damn near wasted. Guess Kagome gave him the bad news.

“Come on, Inuyasha. I picked you out a nice seat. In first class.” Miroku had hold of Inuyasha’s left arm and was leading him down the walkway.

“That’s nice,” Inuyasha slurred.

As they passed her seat, Sango fought to catch Miroku’s gaze, but he was firmly and truly ignoring her.

Sango leaned back in her seat and let out a scoff under her breath. She wanted to be angry, but instead just felt like finding an airplane blanket and disappearing under it.

 


 

“Inuyasha,” Kikyou said, “You look horrible.

Miroku unceremoniously dropped Inuyasha into a seat and straightened up, dusting off his own clothes. 

Inuyasha didn’t reply, just looked down at his soiled shirt grumpily.

“Here,” Miroku rummaged through one of the carry-on bags and tossed Inuyasha the first shirt he found, a faded black concert tee shirt. Inuyasha caught it and unfolded it. “BLACK SABBATH” was written in giant block letters across the front, and Miroku actually could watch in real time Inuyasha’s face crumpling in silent anguish before shaking out of it and pulling the old shirt off and the new shirt on. Of course, Inuyasha was pretty wasted, so there was a little getting tangled in the old shirt involved.

“Give it to me,” Miroku said, and Inuyasha complied, laying the damp shirt in his hand. Miroku crumpled it into a ball and shoved it into the luggage bag, not caring if it messed up the other clothes or not. He could just take care of the dry cleaning when they got to New York.

“Can I sit down now?” Miroku said dully. Inuyasha just growled in the back of his throat and folded his arms in a sullen pout. Honestly, it’s like dealing with a child sometimes.

“Inuyasha,” Kikyou seemed eager to try again, leaning across the aisle and placing a hand atop her former fiance’s, “Are you alright? What happened with Kagome?”

“She dumped me,” Inuyasha snapped, waving over a flight attendant, “Whiskey. Whatever you have.” The flight attendant scurried away.

“Is that really necessary?” Miroku said quickly, “I think you should have some coffee, Inuyasha. We have a long flight ahead of us.”

“Miroku.”

“Inuyasha.”

“Leave me alone.”

Miroku scoffed. “Fine, but I’m not carrying you off this fucking flight. Kikyou, he’s all yours.”

He shuffled past Inuyasha’s knees, making sure to place a well-aimed kick to his shins. “Oh, sorry,” he said lightly in response to Inuyasha’s hiss of pain, and he shoved off to the row of seats in front.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sango watching everything unfold from behind her leather-bound planner. She was wearing that damn pink sweater again. The one that always drove him crazy. He caught the scent of her perfume and all he wanted to do was drop himself into the seat next to her, throw that damn planner across the room, and make her forget her own name. 

But he had his pride, dammit. And somehow he’d started to want more than just mind-blowing sex from her. She didn’t want to give more, that was fine. He would search elsewhere.

So he instead took the seat across the aisle from her. The window seat. As far from her as possible. Kicking out his legs and making sure not to send even a wayward glance Sango’s way, he pulled a hardcover book from his bag. The title, blazed across the cover in bright white lettering, read “A Brief History Of Time, by Stephen Hawking.”

Opening it up to the middle, he struck a thoughtful pose and watched Sango out of the corner of his eye. She was looking at him curiously, but not overtly interested.

Carefully, he turned the page, not of the large doorstop of a book in his hand, but of the Batman comic he’d tucked into the center.

This was going to be an interesting flight.

Chapter 43: Interesting Standoffs

Summary:

In which Inuyasha proceeds to get even more wasted, Sango has no patience for flirty stewardesses, and Kikyou makes her move.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty-Three

Interesting Standoffs

 

Inuyasha downed the entire plastic bottle of whiskey without even bothering to pour it in the glass of ice the flight attendant had provided. He felt it burn down his throat and sighed.

“Inuyasha.”

He finally looked up and acknowledged Kikyou, whose stare he had felt since he’d even boarded this godforsaken flight. She was turned around in her seat, staring at him from across the aisle, dressed in a smart tan overcoat and white pants (probably the most comfortable she’d ever dressed in a long time, at least that he’d seen, though she still had on a pair of nude stilettos that couldn’t have been comfortable at any time or place), her sunglasses pushed up to her forehead.

“Can I come sit by you?” She didn’t smile, just looked very, very sympathetic.

“Free country, isn’t it?” He couldn’t help snapping at her. It wasn’t entirely her fault he was in this situation, but she shared quite a bit of the blame for giving Kagome every reason to not trust her.

Kikyou shrank back for a moment, then sniffed and sat back in her own seat. “I’ll just wait until you’re feeling more social,” she said, sounding like her old self.

Inuyasha sighed and leaned his seat back, closing his eyes.

“Inuyasha,” Totosai, on the phone with another client, put his hand over the receiver and motioned at the girl seated on the folding chair in front of him, “This is Kikyou Higurashi. She’s been cast as the female lead in this play.”

Kikyou stood, her eyes taking him in up and down briefly, before she extended her hand without a smile and Inuyasha took it, shaking it for a moment before she pulled back.

Totosai, clearly seeing that his job was done, returned to his phone call and walked off down the backstage hallway.

“Nice to meet you,” Inuyasha said awkwardly. This girl was absolutely gorgeous, probably right around twenty years old, wearing a stylish yellow sundress and a light blue cardigan. 

“Likewise,” Kikyou said, finally giving him a polite but distant smile, then motioning to the two people sitting next to her. 

One was a middle-aged woman with careworn eyes and silver-streaked black hair, who was watching him very closely and with undivided interest. It was clear she had once been a great beauty herself, just like her daughter.

The other...well…

A teenage kid, wearing a Helloween tee shirt and ripped black jeans adorned with safety pins everywhere. Her ears were pierced multiple times, and her hair was pulled into twin braids that were clearly struggling to stay in place. She was sitting in the chair with her legs crossed, a textbook of some sort balanced on her lap, and she was bobbing her head up and down as she wrote some sort of algebraic equation in a notebook in time to the music playing through her headphones.

“This is my mother,” Kikyou said, and the older woman stood to shake Inuyasha’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you,” Inuyasha said again with a smile.

“Inuyasha, is it? You’re quite the dish, aren’t you?” 

Inuyasha coughed and laughed a little, running a hand through his hair.

Kikyou’s mother just looked from him to Kikyou and raised her eyebrows with a grin. Kikyou blushed a little and shook her head, clearly embarrassed. Inuyasha understood. Mothers were embarrassing sometimes.

“And my little sister, Kagome.”

The teenaged girl didn’t look up from her homework. Her mother scoffed and nudged at her younger daughter, all while keeping her smile towards Inuyasha.

The girl jumped in surprise, and the textbook dropped from her lap, along with the iPod she was listening to, which disconnected from the headphones and went spinning onto the floor.

Before she could bend to pick it up, Inuyasha had already grabbed the iPod and placed it into her hand. “AC/DC, huh?” he said with a grin, “Good study music.”

She looked up at him. Her eyes, unlike her sister’s and mother’s, were a clear, crystalline blue, heavily lined with black (almost too much so). Her look of surprise turned into a blush, and then she broke into a grin, revealing a mouth full of metal braces. “I think so,” she said.

“Kagome,” her mother said, “This is Inuyasha Takahashi. He’s starring in this play with your sister.” 

“Oh,” Kagome turned to her mom and sister, then back to him, “Well, good luck! She’s a handful.”

Inuyasha chuckled. Kikyou looked mortified, and her face flushed red.

“Kagome,” her mom admonished, though seemingly good-naturedly, “Don’t embarrass your sister like that.”

Kagome fell silent, blowing a strand of curly hair out of her face.

“Pleasure to meet you,” she said, her smile returning as she looked up at Inuyasha, “I’m Kagome.”

“So I hear,” he said, “Nice shirt, by the way.”

She looked down at herself, then blushed again. “Thanks.”

“So do you want to go somewhere for dinner?” Inuyasha turned to Kikyou, “We should probably get to know each other since we’ll be together practically every waking moment for the next ten weeks.”

Kikyou smiled, brushing a lock of straight black hair behind her ear. “I’d like that very much. Mom, I’ll be home later, okay?”

“Have a good time, sweetie,” her mom smiled knowingly, pulling her purse onto her shoulder and turning to Kagome, who was still staring at Inuyasha, her pencil halted in place on her notebook. “Come on, Kagome, let’s get home so you can finish your homework and get that pigsty of a room of yours cleaned up.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Inuyasha said, and he and Kikyou watched them walk off. Kagome turned around once to seemingly stare at him before her mother ushered her forward.

“Ugh, I’m sorry about them,” Kikyou said, laughing softly, “My sister especially. She’s utterly ridiculous.”

“Eh, she seems like a good kid,” Inuyasha said, finding that he really liked the way Kikyou laughed, “So where to for dinner?”

That had been it. The beginning of it all. He and Kikyou had had their first kiss onstage the next day during rehearsals, and both of them had been sort of surprised by how real it felt. 

And Kagome was there the entire time, sitting in the auditorium seats, throwing paper airplanes at him and showing him new songs she’d discovered in between scenes. He’d started calling her Kiddo then, and she’d always respond with Jerkface.

The sudden urge to crumple into a ball overtook him, but instead he decided that he’d better excuse himself to the bathroom and upheave his lunch. That last whiskey shot had done its work.

“Are you okay, honey?” Kikyou said, looking up from her phone as he got up.

“Fine,” he lied.

 


 

This was an interesting standoff, Sango had to admit. Both of them absolutely refusing to speak to each other or even look in the other’s direction. The air between them almost felt physically heavy.

“No, no, we have no comment on their reconciliation at this time,” Sango said into her company mobile, “but if it is in fact true, we wish them all the happiness in the world.”

“They are asking for privacy during this time while they work on their relationship,” Miroku said into his own phone, his voice entirely businesslike even though he clearly wasn’t paying much attention. That Stephen Hawking book seemed to be super interesting.

Sango hung up, only for the phone to buzz again. It was Yura Kaminoke. 

“Just thought you’d want to know, dear, that we got a photo of Inuyasha leaving Kikyou’s house this morning! It’s blowing up the Internet! Isn’t that fantastic?”

“Thrilling,” Sango said, “Put out a statement from us that’s a general no comment.”

“Oh, Sango dear, you’re such a tease! Can’t I just get one comment from Inuyasha’s people on this?”

Sango glanced over at Miroku, who had finished his own phone call and was back to intently reading his book.

“I don’t think right now is the best time,” she said.

“Well, can’t fault a girl for trying, can you? Can I at least get a comment from our dear sweet little Kagome?”

“That’s actually something else I wanted to discuss with you,” Sango said, kicking back in her seat and crossing her legs, “Kagome will be off for the next two weeks for a photography gig in Europe. I want you to give daily blurbs about her Instagram postings. Warner’s special request.”

“She - she won’t be in New York this weekend?” Yura sounded positively downtrodden. “Shame. I was so looking forward to another red carpet interview with her. So who is Kouga Okami showing up with?”

“I have no earthly idea. Kagome wasn’t going with him in the first place.”

“Hahaha, very funny, Sango! Those two crazy kids. So cute and rebellious. My readers just love them.”

“I’m sure they do.”

“Well, this is certainly interesting…” Sango could almost hear the plotting in Yura’s voice.

“Yura,” Sango said, putting on her sternest tone, “No exclusives on this before the awards. We’re trying not to draw attention to Kagome’s absence. If we do that, people might think she and Kikyou had a falling out or something.” Which they did. Hard. But hey, this is our job right? Spin, spin, spin, until we all fall down.

“Oh, of course you’re right,” Yura said, “See you in New York, darling!”

“Yep.” Sango hung up the phone and glanced at Miroku out of the corner of her eye. He was still buried in his book.

With a sigh, she opened her planner and started going over the gift bag list. Every big name actor and nominee would get one from the studio at the Oscars afterparty, and with Warner feeling so confident this year, he wanted her to go big or go home. She had tons of vendors to call. Might as well get it out of the way.

She glanced up and saw him watching her over the cover of the book. He quickly recovered and yawned to cover it up. She sniffed. Asshole.

 


 

 

“We’re taking off in a few minutes’ time. Can I get you anything for the flight, sir?” The pretty young flight attendant approached him, hands folded in front of her professionally.

“Well, hi there,” Miroku said, putting the book down on his lap and fixing her with his most winning smile, sneaking a glance at Sango across the aisle. Sango was furiously scribbling in her planner, her lips pressed tightly together. “Whiskey and coke, please. And your name.”

The girl smiled with a blush. “My name is Tiffany.”

“Tiffany? Like the diamonds?” Miroku put a hand in his chin and kept up the charm.  “Or Tiffany with an ‘i’ at the end with a trail of broken hearts in her wake?”

She laughed and waved him off. “I’ll get your whiskey and coke, sir. Anything for you, miss?” She turned to Sango.

“Nothing.” Sango still hadn’t looked up, but her cheeks were a very bright shade of pink.

“Be right back, sir,” Tiffany said with a wink, flipping her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder as she left.

Miroku settled back and reopened his book. Oh Joker, you are just too funny. Who puts a flag that says “BANG” in a giant tank cannon? You are the living end.

Tiffany returned a few minutes later with the drink, which she set on his tray table with a napkin. “I didn’t know if you wanted a slice of lime or not,” she said, reaching out to stick the lime wedge onto the edge of the plastic cup, “but I hedged my bets.” She smiled.

“You guessed right,” Miroku said, even though he’d never had a slice of lime with a whiskey and coke in his life. He shot her a wink and took a sip as he kicked back and held up his book again.

“Wow, you must be really smart to be reading a book like that,” Tiffany said, leaning against the seat beside her.

“Oh,” Miroku chuckled, “Not at all. Just a bit of light reading, you know. I like to keep my brain well-fed.”

“What issue of ‘Batman’ is that, Houshi?” Sango said.

He snapped the book shut and shot a glare at her. She hadn’t even appeared to look up from her scribbling, but at the obvious feel of his gaze she smirked.

Tiffany looked from him to Sango and back to him, clearly confused.

“Can I get a black coffee? When you get a free moment?” Sango said, still not looking up.

“Oh, of course, Miss Ryoshi, right away.” Tiffany scurried off, with that bewildered look still on her face.

Miroku scowled at Sango. “Why you gotta ruin my fun?”

“I can accept that in the last twenty-four hours you’ve completely regressed into a college freshman, Houshi,” she said calmly, sending him a brief smile, “but I can’t let that poor girl get dragged into your wicked ways. She couldn’t handle it.”

“Seems no one can,” he said pointedly.

“Okay, listen,” she said, smacking her binder closed and turning to him angrily, then faltering just as Tiffany brought her a styrofoam cup full of steaming coffee. Tiffany placed the coffee down, then shot a look at Miroku. He simply smiled in a friendly but distant manner, and she seemed to take the hint and book it right out of there.

“You were saying?” He took a sip of his whiskey and coke.

“What is your fucking problem, Houshi? What did I do this time?” She actually looked both vulnerable and furious at the same time, and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“I’m tired of being shut out by you at every given second when all I’m trying to do is help you.” Playing coy hadn’t worked, maybe being direct as fuck would.

Sango visibly winced. “I don’t know what you thought we were , Houshi, but I’m not about to go all bosom buddies with a guy who taught me how to destroy people from the inside out.”

“You had no problem fucking a guy like that, did you?” He was being nasty. He knew it. “Or is Randall Warner getting in on that action now, too? Is that why?”

Dammit, Miroku. Worst possible thing to say, ever

Sango flinched as if he’d actually physically struck her. “I’m trying to do my goddamn job and get paid,” she said, her voice trembling, “And I don’t need some blacklisted asshole trying to act like he owns me. I get enough of that treatment as is.”

“Like I own you?” Miroku wanted to rip the book in his hands in half, but he knew he lacked the strength to do it. Shoulda spent more time in the gym instead of watching reality TV. “Is that really what you think I was trying to do?”

“What else?” Sango said, “That’s what everyone’s tried to do, my entire life. Why would you be any different?” She sat back in a defiant pose, those beautiful eyes flashing with rage.

“You fucking idiot,” Miroku muttered, shaking his head sadly.

“Don’t call me a fucking idiot, Houshi.”

“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, “I’m sorry. I misread the entire situation and for that, I apologize. Let’s just get this shit done.”

Sango looked surprised that he wasn’t willing to keep the argument going, and her entire body language softened. “Houshi, listen, I-”

“What the fuck are you guys on about up there?” Inuyasha’s voice rang out. Miroku looked over the back of the seat at him. He was looking quite the worse for wear, stumbling back into his seat. He was sweating.

They both paused, looked at each other, and said, “Nothing,” in unison.

 


 

Inuyasha sat back down, breathing hard, still reeling from having emptied his guts into the toilet bowl. 

Kikyou looked up from her phone as he returned, hurriedly finishing whatever text she was sending and getting up to cross the aisle and sit next to him.

“Talk to me,” she whispered softly, turning her entire body to him, showing him that he had her undivided attention, “Why isn’t Kagome on this flight? What happened? Was she mad? Did she think that we-”

“She’s taking a few weeks off,” Inuyasha mumbled, “Seems to think that we had a night of intense reconciliation and passion. I can’t imagine why. May have been the pap photos, though,” he trailed off, affix her with a glare that could melt iron. Kikyou’s eyes widened momentarily before narrowing again as her jaw tensed.

“You can’t think that had something to do with me. Did you tell her that we didn’t do anything?”

Inuyasha chuckled darkly, like the harsh laugh was the only thing keeping him from laughing or vomiting again. “You try explaining something like that. No, really, I’d like to see you try and spin this one. You’re a good actress, but are you that good?” 

Kikyou bit her lip, looking hurt, and finally Inuyasha’s glare relented.

“...What I’m trying to say is that, no. No, she didn’t believe me. Would you believe me if you were her?  Would you believe you, if you were her?”

The tears in his eyes began to well as he thought back about her sudden departure.  Since she had decided to leave, he hadn’t given himself a sober second to let it fully hit him.

Kikyou gently grasped his arm and pulled him towards the back of the fuselage behind the stewardess curtain. Her eyes seemed to be moist too, to Inuyasha’s surprise.

“I can’t help but feel that I’ve hurt you even worse since we split-”

“Since you left me, you mean?” he coughed, bitterly.  The sour glare he affixed her with would hurt her, or at least he hoped.

“Look, Inuyasha…” She sighed. “Can I just be open? I know we don’t really get the chance to say what we actually mean to anyone anymore. Not since we moved here, not since we became famous, not since, well… all of this,” she said, gesturing at the luxury surrounding them. 

She leaned against the wall, seemingly steeling herself up to continue. “I don’t feel great about what I did to you. And honestly, since we went our separate ways, I feel like neither of us have someone, someone who actually understands what it’s like to have to live this life, to talk to. And I know I’ve said it before, and I’ll probably say it again, but I am so sorry about how it all ended, and even more for how I’ve hurt you now.”

Inuyasha stared into her eyes, searching for any hint of a lie. Either she wasn’t lying, or he was too drunk to notice, as her fingers gently stretched out to grasp his hand.  At the touch of the woman he once loved, who may well have just cost him the woman he loved now , a small gasp escaped his throat and he pulled away, pressing his own back to the opposite wall. He fisted his hands in his hair, feeling the telltale burning in his eyes that said he was about to lose it and cry like a fucking child. He took a few deep breaths.

“I don’t know if I’ve said this to anyone,” he muttered, “but I dont think I’m made for this.  I don’t like being famous. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the money’s nice. And the food. And buying a Lamborghini whenever I feel like it...”

“But you miss when we were kids, wondering where the next month’s rent was coming from,” Kikyou finished for him, that sweet smile back on her face, “When all you and I had was each other.”

“And Kagome,” he said, a little forcefully.

“And Kagome,” she acquiesced with a shrug, “But you’re forgetting who you are , Inuyasha. You’re the biggest star in Hollywood. You’ve got the world wrapped around your finger. You’ve got every reason to just grab the bull by the horns and take life by storm, and you won’t let yourself be happy with the lucky hand that life has dealt. It sort of breaks my heart to see you like this.”

“Yeah, well,” Inuyasha said as she tentatively approached him again, taking a spot next to him, “You kind of did a number on me when you up and left.”

Kikyou winced. “The stupidest thing I ever did,” she lamented.

“Kikyou, since we’re being all honest and chick-flicky,” he said, “Why did you do it? It wasn’t because you loved him. I know that much.”

She sighed. “I was scared.”

“Of me?” He frowned.

“Of all of it. I mean, our wedding was coming up, and I was suddenly having second thoughts and hating myself for it. And then I did a stupid, horrible thing, and by the time it was over, I knew I’d ruined our chances, maybe forever, so I just sort of doubled down.”

Inuyasha just stared at her, dead silent. Everything she was saying made sense, all her bizarre behavior accounted for.

“But that’s not the issue at present,” Kikyou said, wiping away a tear and straightening up, every inch the Hollywood goddess once more, “The issue now is Kagome. I’ll fix this with her, if its the last thing I do for you. I owe you that much, at least.” Her brown eyes betrayed nothing, and he found it hard to blink at the gaze he had treasured for so many years.  

Suddenly her soft lips found his in an embrace so familiar it flung him back eight years to the first night they took stage together.  He gave in for a second before pulling back, crashing his head against the wall, and her face fell into into a mask of guilt.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she started, bringing a slender finger to her lips as if to reassure herself that the kiss had in fact happened, “I just - oh god, I just, it’s like second nature, my body just acted on its own-”

Inuyasha stumbled backward, fixing her with a suspicious glare. “Do me a favor, Kikyou. Stay away from me right now, okay? I can’t fucking think right now and you’re not helping.” He ducked back through the curtain and stalked back to his seat.

 


 

Kikyou stayed behind, fingers tracing lightly over her own lips as they curled into a knowing smile.

Her phone buzzed. “Hey babe, how’s tricks?”

With perfectly manicured nails, she tapped out a reply.

“Just working on the Oscar campaign. Miss you, honey.”

Chapter 44: Can I At Least Yell At Him?

Summary:

In which Kagome's off finding herself and posting on her new Insta, Sango's dad is a piece of shit, and Kikyou and Inuyasha have a photoshoot.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty-Four

Can I At Least Yell At Him?

 

“Oi,” Miroku knocked and yelled through the suite door, “It’s one in the afternoon. You good?”

Inuyasha groaned, grabbing hold of an extra pillow and wrapping himself around it. His head felt like fresh hell, and his stomach wasn’t much better.

“You have thirty minutes to be up and about,” Miroku’s voice called, “We’ve got some popular spots to hit and some press photos to take.” There was a shuffling sound as Miroku walked off down the hotel hallway.

The thought of such a thing made Inuyasha want to hurl again. He moaned again and pulled up his phone, scrolling through his social media feed through half-lidded eyes.

An Instagram notification. “NEW POST: KagomeHigurashi posted a photo.”

Okay. Let’s do this. He clicked on it with his finger.

Just a photo of the outside of a dive-bar looking club, framed in glorious black and white by the light of a silvery moon. Jeez, she’s good at making photos look fantastic.

The caption read, “ So, what would you little maniacs like to do first?” Five thousand likes. Two thousand followers.

He fought back a snort in his throat. ‘Weird Science.’ This girl was quoting ‘Weird Science’. 

The small laugh was followed by an acute pain in his chest that very nearly crippled him and made him unable to move.

 


 

“Pumpkin!”

Sango hugged him but wanted to bolt as soon as she saw him. That face that she’d inherited so much of, those eager, calculating eyes that she couldn’t ever claim to have not gained through genetics...

“Look at you, all fancy and done up. I missed you so much,” her father said, taking a seat at the small Italian cafe she’d chosen. She sat down in the wicker chair opposite him, and the extra height her Louboutins had given her vanished.

“Did you?” She didn’t feel like sugarcoating anything. At least, not until she’d had some coffee.

“You know I did,” her dad said, as if that were the final word. He picked up the menu and moved on with his conversation. “I’ve only been here once before; all I remember is they have a fantastic bolognese.”

Sango fought to keep her hands from shaking and decided the best way to go about it was to hide them in her lap. “Are you even going to ask about Kohaku? About Mom?”

Her dad looked up from the menu with a pointed stare. “I was,” he said condescendingly, “but since you seem so eager to bring it to the forefront of conversation, how are they?”

“Fine.” If you don’t count the brain damage and the hospital bills that I have to keep paying for.

“That’s good,” her dad said, with an easy, almost endearing smile, “that’s wonderful.

Sango wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. She closed her eyes and pictured Miroku’s face, during all those months of her training, telling her to keep her cool, to not let anything outwardly bother her. But, then, picturing Miroku’s face made her want to cry for a different reason.

“You really don’t care, do you?” was all she could say.

Mr. Ryoshi looked irritated, folding the menu shut and fixing Sango with a particular glare. “If I didn’t care,” he hissed, “would I be talking to you?”

“No,” she said automatically, disappearing behind her own menu, “Of course not. Silly of me.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said lowly, dangerously. Sango heard him shift and wondered if he would be brazen enough to throw a punch at her at a roadside cafe with a ton of hard-assed New Yorkers watching.

He wasn’t brazen enough. He just glared.

The waitress came over. Mr. Ryoshi ordered spaghetti bolognese. Sango ordered a side salad, saying she wasn’t too hungry.

“How’s the job going?”

Sango tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, hating how she felt fourteen years old again. “I’m doing okay. I got a promotion.”

“Yes, I know,” her dad said, helping himself to a sampling of the house wine, “It took some prying to get it out of your mom. What a ridiculous woman, am I right?”

Sango nodded. Her body was on autopilot and she was hating herself for it.

“But hey, who am I to complain?” her dad laughed, holding his glass up in a strange, awkward toast, “More money is always a good thing.”

Sango mutely nodded again.

“Always good that you can take care of your mom and your brother when I’m away.”

There it was. That rumble of anger in her belly. She crossed her legs and sat back in her seat. “The doctors have said Kohaku might not ever wake up,” she said, her voice trembling.

Her dad glared at her. “Are you trying to accuse me of something?” He made like he was going to stand up, and suddenly she was a punk-ass kid again, cowering behind the kitchen counter.

“N-no,” she said, fighting to keep the stammer out of her voice.

“I thought so,” he said, his manner returning to an easygoing, friendly countenance, “You wouldn’t do that to your daddy, would you?”

She shook her head.

The spaghetti bolognese and the side salad arrived. 

“One more thing,” her dad said through a mouthful of food, “Can you spot me a few thousand? Right here, right now? I owe some important people quite a bit of money again. I’d ask your mom, only she doesn’t seem to have it-”

“No, no, don’t ask her,” Sango said, fishing through her own wallet, “I don’t have it on me, but we can go to an ATM…”

“That’s my girl.”

She sighed, allowing herself to take a bite of her salad. She was sure it was probably good, but it seemed her mouth had lost the ability to taste anything.

“I just have one question,” she said, “Is this ever going to end, Dad?”

Her dad raised an eyebrow. “Is what going to end?”

“Y-you asking for money,” she said, her eyes fixed on the plastic tablecloth. They were in a public place. He couldn’t hit her here. He couldn’t hit her here. He couldn’t hit her here.

“Pumpkin,” her dad said lackadaisically, leaning back in his chair, a speck of red sauce on the corner of his mouth, “Why do you have to be like this? You’re making so much now. You’re a Hollywood bigshot, right? Why not share the wealth a little?”

Sango closed her eyes. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

“I’ve shared it around with the boys,” her dad said, “I’m proud that my daughter is such a power player. You don’t want me to look bad in front of the boys, do you?”

Sango didn’t move.

“Plus,” Mr. Ryoshi dabbed at his mouth with a cloth napkin, “It saves me the trouble of having to bother your mother with trivial things, right?”

Sango dug her fingers into the table. You put Kohaku in the fucking hospital and you threaten me? I’ll kill you, you fucking bastard-

“Right,” she said quietly, taking a bite of salad, never having felt more alone in the world.

When they were finished with their meal, her dad gave her a kiss on the cheek and left her with the check, without even mentioning it as he walked away, telling her over his shoulder he’d be in touch.

 


 

“Hey kid. How you doin?”

“Okay. They gave me a nice little room above the club. I guess it’s vacant because there’s no way anyone could sleep here with a heavy metal club one floor down.”

Miroku smirked, leaning back in his chair in his nice hotel suite. There was one great thing about living off Inuyasha’s money, and that was the luxury. 

A few seconds later, his phone went off again.

“So how are things on your end?”

Miroku knew she wasn’t asking about studio bullshit or publicity nonsense.

“Your sister’s been putting the moves on your boy. HARD.” No shame in being honest, here.

His phone rang a few seconds later. “Hi, Kagome.”

“Thought this was easier than texting.”

“It is.”

“So she’s been working him, huh?”

“Oh, yes. From what I could see on the plane yesterday, she didn’t waste much time.”

“I wish I could say I was surprised, but….you know…”

“You know your sister,” Miroku supplied helpfully.

“Exactly.” Her tone of voice wasn’t exactly happy at being right, though.

“What are your plans today?”

“Clutch is playing a show tonight. I’m so fucking excited, dude. You have no idea. To get to photograph Clutch of all bands…”

“Lucky duck,” Miroku said, though he wasn’t sure if he remembered off the top of his head who Clutch was. He assumed they were good; Kagome wouldn’t be happy about it if they weren’t.

“So my question is,” Miroku said, fumbling in his pocket for his pack of smokes, “How much do you want me to sabotage Inuyasha and your sister this weekend?”

She laughed on the other end. “Would it surprise you if I said not at all?”

He lit his cigarette, frowning. “Yeah, it kinda would.”

“Just leave it,” she said, her voice sounding more mature and reserved than he’d ever heard it, “If he loves me, it’ll work out. If he loves her, well, he can have her.”

“Where does that leave you , though?” he mumbled, taking a deep drag of the cigarette and exhaling a plume of smoke into the air.

“Well, tonight I’m going to jump into a mosh pit and photograph a band from the ground up. So I think I’m going to be okay, right?” She sounded shaky and hesitant, like she was looking to him for validation.

“Can I at least yell at him about being a fucking idiot?” 

She laughed again. “I think I can allow that.”

“Good,” he said, ashing his cigarette in the empty coffee mug on the table, “Because I plan to.”

 


 

Inuyasha was pulling on a smart wool sweater to fend off the chilly northern breeze when his phone buzzed again.

Kikyou. “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry.”

He let out all his breath in a hiss, closed the message without replying, and immediately texted Miroku to announce that he was up and ready to play the wonderful bullshit game that his profession demanded.

 


 

“Hold still, please!”

Inuyasha visibly sighed and let Kikyou relax in his arms. This was an Annie Leibovitz-style editorial for Entertainment Weekly, and this photoshoot was key to their entire Oscar package. Miroku just raised his eyebrows and told Inuyasha as much with a look.

Kikyou snaked her arms up around Inuyasha’s neck, and he took it, still visibly uncomfortable with being photographed like that. Miroku fought back the urge to laugh and ran a hand over his own mouth in the most subtle manner possible.

“Houshi.” Sango appeared behind him, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, holding up a coffee in her left hand for him to take.

He stared at her. “Thanks,” he said, more hesitantly than he’d wanted to, but then again, he once again hadn’t been sure where they stood as of yesterday.

“Don’t mention it,” she said, sipping her own coffee in the other hand and turning away from him while she did it.

“Sango,” he said, concerned, “Are you okay?”

“Me? I’m fucking peachy. How’s the shoot going?”

“Fine,” he said, taking note of how much her cheeks seemed flushed behind her sunglasses, “Except Inuyasha’s a little uncomfortable, given yesterday’s events.”

“Not surprised there,” she said dismissively, stirring her coffee and frowning, “Let him be uncomfortable. I had to do a shitload of backflips to get Kagome to Amsterdam on a moment’s notice. He can feel just a little of the fallout.”

Miroku stared at her. “Wait a second,” he said, “ You were the one who got Kagome the job in Amsterdam?”

She seemed to realize what she had said, what she had admitted to. “W-Well,” she stammered, shoving her sunglasses up on her face as she stirred her coffee even more vigorously, “She was starting to be a real pain in the ass, you know? I needed a break from her.”

“That was a nice thing to do,” Miroku said softly. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and bend her over and plant a kiss that would make her collapse in bewilderment.

She twitched a little, fumbling with her cup until she found a nearby surface to set it down on. She seemed to be struggling for words.

Miroku leaned toward her, holding his coffee up to his lips and whispering behind it. “As her friend,” he whispered, “thanks for doing that.”

“And as a publicist?” Her gaze snapped toward him, still shielded by those damn glasses.

“As a publicist,” he took a sip of coffee and nodded toward the two abhorrently famous people in front of them posing for the camera, “you just got your ‘It Couple’ profile. Now spin it.”

Chapter 45: Heart Emojis And Exclamation Points

Summary:

In which Kagome and Kikyou both post on Instagram for entirely different reasons, Inuyasha is fucked up and miserable, and it's time for yet another damn awards ceremony.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty-Five

Heart Emojis And Exclamation Points

 

“Instagram Notification: Kagome_H posted 10 photos, 5:45 am CET.”

Inuyasha immediately diverted his eyes from the infomercial on the hotel TV and glanced down at his phone and scrolled through the photos, ignoring that all-too-familiar pain gnawing at his guts. It was around 11:45 pm here in New York. The time difference... six hours. He clicked his teeth and opened the first photo.

A slightly askew photo of Kagome, her hair up in a high ponytail to keep it out of her face. That same stray curl by her forehead. She was sweaty, flushed, and laughing, standing holding her camera up, next to a huge burly tattooed man who was clearly having to lean down to fit in the photo and making a silly face. “Meet Luuk. He’s the best bouncer in the world and he doesn’t mind putting me on his shoulders so I can get a good shot.”

Hundreds of likes, and comments on how happy she looked.

Several photos of...wait, she was shooting photos of Clutch? Ugh. He was so jealous. He thought about texting her to tell her so, but wasn’t sure if she’d wanted him to have her new number at all. He’d had to more or less coax it out of Miroku, who’d gotten a small cash bonus out of the deal and who hadn’t stopped grinning even after Inuyasha told him to fuck off and go home. 

And so Inuyasha had the number, but hadn’t summoned up the courage to try it.

What if she didn’t want to talk to him at all? They hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms, and she seemed to be having so much fun without a thought toward him at all.

He continued scrolling through the photos. 

A picture of Kagome surrounded by the band members, all of whom were smiling broadly. “So this is Clutch, but you probably knew that. And they are the biggest sweethearts ever. We talked music for a good hour before I finally left them alone. Thanks for being so wonderful!” She had tagged a few of the band members who had Instagrams.

First comment was from the lead singer. “Thank YOU for all your photos. You’re gonna go far kid. Love, Neil.”

Okay, Inuyasha was famous as fuck, but even that had him a little starstruck.

Another photo, this one of a small tenement-style window, looking down onto a cute little street deserted of people. The sun seemed to be peeking over the tops of the buildings out of frame. Just a hint of pink in the light. “My battle station for the next two weeks. I. Am. In. Heaven.”

She sounded so happy. I’m glad for her. At least, I think I am. He immediately squashed the negativity inching into his thoughts, realizing what a selfish bastard he was starting to sound like. At this rate, he was no better than-

“Alert: Kikyou1 liked Kagome_H’s photo.” Ugh, these notifications.

“Alert: Kikyou1 commented on Kagome_H’s photo.” 

Repeat ad nauseum. Inuyasha couldn’t resist the curiosity. He clicked the first photo, the one of Kagome and the bouncer fellow.

“Luuk, huh? I know SOMEONE who’s gonna be jealous!” And a heart emoji. Kikyou really could never let an opportunity pass, could she? Dozens of comments followed that one, every single one of them speculating that she was talking about Kouga.

The comment and like notifications kept coming. Inuyasha temporarily thought of unfollowing Kikyou on Instagram to stop the barrage, but he heard Miroku’s voice in his head reminding him that a simple unfollow was enough news for some shitty Buzzfeed-style article declaring ‘OH NO! TROUBLE IN PARADISE!’. He didn’t need any more of that shit coming his way.

So Inuyasha went into his phone settings and turned off Instagram notifications.

But then he realized he wouldn’t get a buzzing alert whenever Kagome posted, and the thought of not keeping up with what she was doing at the soonest possible moment was worse than the annoyance of Kikyou’s pestering.

He went back in and changed the settings back.

 


 

Two days later, Inuyasha snapped awake in the middle of the night to that familiar buzzing from his phone. He’d barely closed one eye for fear of missing a post from her. Would there be any sort of clue in this one, something that might hint at how she was feeling about returning home? Anything to indicate how she was feeling about him? He knew the chances weren’t high, but he’d resolved to analyze and search desperately through every single photo she posted for the next two weeks.

This was proving to be hell for his sleep schedule. The New York Film Critics Awards were tonight, and Miroku had insisted to him that he call it an early night. But how could he explain to Miroku that he couldn’t let himself sleep, not really, not when Kagome was yet to post anything today?

He’d ignored all of Kikyou’s texts except for the one asking what color he was wearing.

“I already told you. Black Westwood.” And nothing else.

“Oh, yeah! I forgot! Silly me.” Another heart emoji. 

And he’d gone right back to ignoring her, even after she sent several variations of “Are you mad at me?” and “If this is about what happened on the plane, I told you I was sorry…” Any other time he would have sighed and texted back, but he was busy. Waiting for Kagome to post again.

The notification was from Kikyou’s Instagram account. He scoffed. Apparently she was up right now too.

“Preview of Entertainment Weekly’s new cover image, coming out early next week. Thought I’d surprise you guys.” And three emojis -  a wink face, kiss face, and blushing face.

It was a preview of the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot they’d shot, a cropped version of the shot with only Inuyasha’s chin visible. But it wasn’t like it was a secret that it was him. Already the likes and comments and freakouts from the adoring fans were pouring in. 

Inuyasha scowled at the image, running a hand over his face and getting up to get a bottle of water from the hotel suite’s kitchen.

Miroku was sitting there in a bathrobe, stirring a mug of coffee that he’d probably already dumped a ton of sweetener and creamer into. 

“What are you doing up so early?”

“What do you mean?” Inuyasha said, cracking his neck and stretching out a sore muscle in his shoulder, “What time is it?”

“Four-thirty am, give or take. I thought I told you to get some sleep. Go back to bed. We’ve got a hell of a late night tonight.” Miroku looked at him sternly before taking a gulp of his coffee.

Four-thirty am here. That’s ten-thirty am in Amsterdam. 

Inuyasha wondered if she was up by now, or if she’d let herself sleep in after staying up until the wee hours the last two nights. He pictured her ascending a metal staircase to her small apartment room, exhausted but rejuvenated at the thought of reviewing all her footage and choosing the best shots to edit, then posting the ones she’d deemed worthy enough to her studio-promoted Instagram page. 

Yura Kaminoke had been all over every post she’d made, writing a hundred-word article about each post, and Inuyasha knew this would continue in force until Kagome got home.

If she ever comes home.

Inuyasha took a water bottle out of the fridge and drained almost half of it. His mouth had been so dry lately, his teeth grinding together on edge. He’d bitten his tongue once or twice too, not even by accident, just to wake himself out of a dazed stupor.

“Have you tried just calling or texting her?” Miroku’s voice made him turn.

Miroku had his chin in his hand and was looking at him without a smile, but Inuyasha saw the quiet glee in his eyes and immediately wanted to punch the bastard.

“Why would she want to talk to me, anyway?” Inuyasha said softly, scowling down at the water bottle as he redid the cap.

“You’re right,” Miroku said, “What was I thinking? She’s having the time of her life without all your bullshit.” He immediately tensed up, clearly ready to dodge some sort of thrown missile.

Inuyasha just glared at him, but didn’t have the heart to let himself rage, even if raging at Miroku was his favorite pastime the last few months.

“I’m going back to bed,” he sighed, trudging back to his room.

“That’s what I told you to do in the first place,” Miroku called in a friendly tone, “You have to be handsome tonight, and right now you look like a junkyard.”

 


 

“Inuyasha,” Miroku said, arms folded, looking at him from across the limo, “Put your phone away. We’re about to pull up to the red carpet. It’s a bad look, being distracted like you don’t even care.”

“Sorry,” Inuyasha mumbled. He put his phone into his suit pocket, mentally kicking himself. Get your head in the game, idiot. You can read her posts later .

Inuyasha tried to not let himself sigh with too much resignation as he thumbed the lock button and slipped the phone back in his pocket, severing his only line to Kagome for the next few hours.

Kikyou touched his hand, and he instinctively jumped and recoiled back. She was sitting next to him, glad in a black strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline, looking every inch the Hollywood goddess she was.

“I know you hate me,” she said softly, and cut him off when he moved to speak, “but tonight, just, for a little while, pretend you don’t, okay? Just for tonight, pretend you still like me. For both our sakes.” Her eyes sparkled with tears.

Inuyasha sighed and gave a brief nod as the car door was opened for them.

  As he stepped out of the limo, profferring Kikyou his hand with the most genuine smile he could muster, Inuyasha couldn’t help but think about how much he hated the blinding camera bulbs.  Surely, someone somewhere has come up with a camera that wouldn’t stop an epileptic in his tracks, he mused, as he forced to keep his eyes open for the photos.

He wondered if Kagome used flash, and then a small pang of guilt and pain brought him back to the real world. 

Kikyou used his hand to pull herself up and out of the limo, and the lights around him exploded even more. She beamed out at them, before turning to him with a bewitching smile on her face. “It wouldn’t kill you to wave too,” she hissed through her teeth, somehow without moving her mouth. Inuyasha wondered how the hell she did that, before slowly raising one hand in what he hoped looked like a casual wave. 

He knew this was his job, and by far not the first time exiting a limo to fanfare with Kikyou on his arm, but he just couldn’t seem to concentrate tonight. Too little sleep and too many miles to Amsterdam for his head to be in this.

“Okay, you brilliant shining stars,” Miroku muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Let’s get through this night in one piece.”

 


 

Inuyasha got his award, posed for photos with Kikyou, got through all of it like he was looking through a lense covered with Vaseline. The crowds, the noise, the clamor around him, all of it was hazy and muffled.

He made a brief appearance at the afterparty, letting Miroku and Sango railroad him around through conversations with all the right big-shots, then excused himself and went home to his liquor cabinet and Kagome’s Instagram feed.

“Alert: Kikyou1 posted a photo.” It was a photo of her and Inuyasha in the limo on their way to the awards. When had she taken that? She was smiling mischievously at the camera, with Inuyasha looking elsewhere. That sneaky little-

The caption was the kicker. “Reunited and it feels so good!” Thousands upon thousands of likes. Comments full of heart emojis and exclamation points.  Apparently the world had decided who it wanted on Inuyasha’s arm.

Nazuna found him the next morning, passed out on his couch again, with Judas Priest still blaring through the living room speakers.

 


 

“Inuyasha?”

He looked up from his TV show (some soap opera about rich teenagers in a big city treating each other like dirt), mouth full of potato chips, the third beer of the afternoon in his hand. 

Nazuna was standing in the doorway to the den, looking at him with great pity. He hated that shit, like he was some sort of broken baby. Everyone could all fuck off. He was fine. He’d be fine.

“Kikyou’s here to see you. She said she’s been trying to reach you for days, but you’re ignoring her. Should I make her leave?” Nazuna gave a wary glance over her right shoulder towards the foyer.

“Nah, fuck it. She has something to say, let her say it.” Inuyasha sat up, brushing chip crumbs off his tee shirt and tossing the half-empty bag onto the coffee table in front of him.

Nazuna didn’t look sure, but she disappeared and reappeared a moment later with Kikyou, who was dressed in a simple white sundress and wedge heels. Always white. Always the perfect angel.

“Inuyasha,” Kikyou said softly after Nazuna got the hell out of there. She stood in the doorway, wringing her hands in front of her as if she were unsure what to say beyond that. There was that sympathetic goddamn look again, from another person. Inuyasha was immediately starting to regret not turning her away.

“Want a beer?” He held one up for her.

She instinctively wrinkled her nose as she hesitantly made her way to sit on the armchair opposite the couch. “Inuyasha,” she said again, voice soft as a lullaby, “What are you doing to yourself? You know you have to fit in a tux again tonight, right?”

“I’ll fit in it,” he growled, taking another sip of his beer.

They were both silent for a few moments. Inuyasha was content to ignore her in favor of the beer. Beer was a lot less confusing.

“I just came by to see if you would talk to me,” Kikyou said, a little testily, “but apparently, I hoped for too much.”

Inuyasha sent her a sullen look out of the corner of his eye and pointedly took a huge, long gulp of beer.

“I just needed someone to talk to,” Kikyou said, her voice faltering, “I know you hate me right now and I know I have no right to come here, and I know I told you I was sorry . I will never try to kiss you again. I just...” She trailed off, seemingly realizing she was stammering and getting ahead of herself.

He sighed. “I don’t hate you,” he said finally, “I just need to be on my own for a while. To get some perspective on this whole thing. And I’m sure you don’t mean to be ruining that, but just your being here gets me all confused.”

She sniffled. “Should I call Sango and arrange to have us show up separately at the Critics Choice Awards tonight? I can do that. We’ll just get different limos, and you can go with Miroku-”

“Don’t bother,” he said, waving her off, “I’ll be a good boy and follow directions from the studio. Just please, for the love of god, stop trying to get me to fall back in love with you.”

Kikyou’s eyes widened and her face flushed. “I’m - I’m not - I wasn’t trying -”

Inuyasha smirked humorlessly. “If you weren’t trying,” he said evenly, “then that makes this even worse for me. It means I really am as confused as Kagome said I was.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Nothing. Now go on home; I’ve got another few episodes to watch before it’s time to start getting ready. I’ll meet you at your house at eight pm.”

Kikyou’s eyes were still shining with tears. “Okay,” she said, seemingly reluctantly, “See you then.”

After she left, Nazuna reappeared in the doorway, looking a little judgmental. Or maybe she was just having stomach trouble and Inuyasha was just projecting. Whatever.

“Anything I can do for you, sir?” She folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment, draining the rest of his beer, “I’m a lonely bastard. Come sit and watch some ‘Gossip Girl.’” He patted the sofa beside him and kicked his legs up on the coffee table.

 


 

 

“Got a cigarette?” Miroku asked, shrugging into his tuxedo jacket, pausing long enough to finish his two fingers of whiskey.

“Yeah.” Inuyasha tossed him the pack.

“At least tonight will have some suspense,” Miroku mused, lighting his smoke, “We don’t actually know beforehand if you’re winning this one or not.”

“Does it matter?” Inuyasha glared at his own reflection in the mirror as he finished tying his bowtie.

“Eh,” Miroku shrugged, then seemed to remember his job. “I mean, yes, yes it does. We’re waiting for Oscar noms to be announced, then we can get a real plan in place. Until then, you have to be as visible as possible.”

“Is that you talking, or Sango?”

“Both of us.”

Inuyasha scoffed. “Okay,” he said, “I’m here to please. You’re both full of shit, though.”

Miroku sent him a baleful look, then immediately glanced at his cell phone with a surprised look. “Oh, hi, Kagome,” he said, putting it up to his ear with a glance Inuyasha’s way.

Inuyasha spun on his heel, knowing he looked stricken and desperate. “That’s Kagome? How’s she doing? Is she coming back soon?”

Miroku’s serious look melted into a very pleased-with-himself grin as he lowered the phone. “Jesus, you are gullible. If you’re that hung up, why not call the girl? It would spare us all a lot of your stupid mopey faces.”

Inuyasha launched a nearby TV remote at his head.

Miroku ducked with an air of practiced grace and kept that stupid goddamn smile on. “You really haven’t talked to her at all the last two weeks, have you?”

Inuyasha answered with nothing more than a furious glare.

“Wow,” Miroku said, “So you’re just stalking her Instagram and waiting for her to come to you? You’re worse than a high school kid.”

“Alright, Miroku, I’m fucking warning you-”

“Kagome must be worried sick about you if you’ve dropped off the radar this much. Or at least, she’s getting to see all those lovely Instagram posts that dear Kikyou’s been dropping on us. Must be weird for that to be all she sees of you for the whole time she’s gone, huh?” The smile was gone now, replaced by a patronizing, sort-of-angry expression.

Inuyasha fell silent, staring at the floor.

“Anyways,” Miroku said, his happy manner returning as quickly as it had left, “Let’s get going. We’ve got awards to win. Well, maybe.”

 


 

Inuyasha started out his front door and clambered into the waiting limo, adjusting his cuff links.

“Two seconds,” Miroku said, glancing at his phone, “I gotta take a piss.”

“Coulda said something before I got in the damn car!” He heard Inuyasha’s growl behind him and shrugged it off.

“Talk to me,” he said, putting the phone up to his ear as soon as he was out of Inuyasha’s line of vision.

“Everything’s good on my end,” Sango’s voice sounded gleeful again. It had been a while since she’d sounded like that, he mused. 

“Okay,” he said, “See you soon, babe.” He thought to ask her what sort of underwear she was wearing, as was tradition, but thought better of it.

Chapter 46: Back In Business

Summary:

In which awards are won, Inuyasha is still a wreck, Kouga asks after Kagome, and Sango presents the deal of a lifetime, one that comes with heavy costs.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty-Six

Back In Business

 

“And the Critics’ Choice Award for Best Actor goes to...Inuyasha Takahashi!”

The ballroom erupted in applause, and Inuyasha did the familiar song and dance of standing up (after squeezing Kikyou around her shoulders in a sweet and familiar gesture, because he wasn’t fucking stupid ), buttoning up his jacket, giving a wave of acknowledgement to the crowd, then making his way up toward the stage, fielding handshakes and hugs from industry insiders all the way.

He took the award from the presenter’s hand (a notable film critic whom Inuyasha was very, very glad to not have to address personally right now and let slip that he’d forgotten the guy’s name), and stood at the podium, looking out into the well-dressed audience.

“Thank you very much,” he said in a subdued manner, then at a pointed look from Miroku, he upped the enthusiasm.

“This is a very pleasant surprise,” he lied smoothly, holding the statuette aloft, “I of course have to thank the Broadcast Film Critics Association for this honor. This movie was a very difficult one for me to undertake, and I’m very pleased that you all seemed to appreciate it.” Understatement of the goddamn century. Difficult my ass. This was the worst fucking time I’d ever had on a film set. Sweating the entire time, sand up my butt crack, and all while Kikyou was having a torrid and all-too-obvious affair with that goddamn bodybuilding asshole. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and kept talking. 

“My ever-present thanks to my agent, my friend , Miroku Houshi, and to Sunrise Studios for their continued support of my career.” Miroku and Sango, sitting a few tables apart, seemed to glance sidelong at each other before raising their glasses toward him in a salute, thanking him for the acknowledgment.

He cleared his throat and continued, forcing the smile onto his face once again. “Special thanks, of course, to Kikyou Higurashi.” He’d gotten used to this bit by now. Mention her name, applause applause applause, knowing smile to the crowd, move on. Kikyou, in the audience, smiled and blew him an air kiss. He looked away quickly and felt more like a whore than he’d ever felt in his life.

He wanted out of there. Quickly.

He was suddenly compelled by either a self-destructive or an altruistic part of him to thank Kagome. By name. Because she was the reason he was still standing here.

Is she even watching? Am I even a part of her life anymore?

“I’m very proud of this movie and all of its wonderful performances,” he said, giving that extra little nod at Kikyou as per Sango and Miroku’s gentle hints, “Thank you all very much again.”

The music played him off, and the crowd stood up in an ovation as he walked offstage with one final wave.

Once he was hidden by the curtains, he slipped past the crowd of people, all of whom were whispering their continued congratulations and clapping him on the back saying stuff like “Well done! You deserve it!” and so on, and found a nice dark area to lean back against a backstage wall and let his head thump loudly against the brick. He sighed and closed his eyes. 

"Kagome? What are you doing here?” Inuyasha came up behind her and ruffled her hair, shouting over the sound of the pounding nightclub music. 

He’d brought a few buddies from the cast and crew out to have some drinks after taking them out for dinner, as a thanks for all their hard work and to apologize for the long day of shooting. It had been hell trying to get just one shot today; the dust had seemed to kick up and block the camera lense anytime they’d tried to film. By the end of the day, they’d got it, but they’d had to wrap up soon after when they started losing daylight. The crew had been in low spirits after that one; they were going to be yet another day behind schedule.

Kagome was sitting at the bar, leaning over a bottle of beer, her shoulders hunched and her face buried in one hand. When she realized Inuyasha was right behind her, she jumped, and the look she gave him when she turned to face him was one of both horror and sadness.

“Inuyasha…” was all she said.

“Thought you’d be at home with Kikyou,” Inuyasha said with a smile, bewildered though he was at the stricken look on her face, “You know, refilling her wine glass and changing the volume on the TV for her since she’s too tired to do it herself.” He chuckled good-naturedly. She didn’t return the laugh.

“What’s wrong with you?” Inuyasha said, looking around, “Did you seriously come here all by yourself?”

Kagome’s eyes seemed to fill up with tears, and she stammered out a few nonsense syllables before clamming up and shaking her head.

“Kagome?”

She looked up at him, those blue eyes wide and beautiful, her eyelashes dotted with droplets of moisture.

“Who’s here with you?”

“You should leave,” she whispered quietly.

“Leave?” Inuyasha raised and eyebrow and motioned over his shoulder to the crew guys, who were all gathering around the far end of the bar and ordering drinks, “We just got here.”

Kagome glanced briefly at the group, then back at Inuyasha. “Please,” she said, putting a hand on his forearm.

“What’s with you? Seriously,” Inuyasha bent closer, his brow furrowed, “Kagome, talk to me. What’s going on?”

Kagome closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, a deep breath out.

“Here you go, miss,” the bartender showed up right in the middle of all of this, pushing a tray with a bottle of Dom and two glasses across the countertop at her. She caught it with one hand and just gave a pained nod, then looked up at Inuyasha, looking like she was ready to cry again.

“Wait a second,” Inuyasha said, “Is she here?”

Kagome didn’t answer, just looked at him, sad as all hell.

Inuyasha cleared his throat and was immediately brought back to reality by another roar of applause from the muted crowd outside.

The award statuette was heavy in his hand, and he let it collide with the wall with a metallic clunk.

 


 

Miroku raised a hand to call for another glass of champagne, using the motion of the gesture to casually glance over at Sango, who was of course sitting at Warner’s table, right next to Lana. Sango was wearing that same backless black dress again, the one she’d worn to no less than two other public appearances this season. Not that he was complaining, that dress was amazingly sexy on her. But it was sort of weird, what with her being so concerned with going all-out for the red carpet and so obsessed with press attention, that she’d let herself be photographed not twice, but three times in the same dress, even though they weren’t exactly the ones the press were clamoring to see.

Miroku furrowed his brow and turned back to the table as his champagne glass was refilled. He took the glass in his hands, watching the bubbles swirl, his mind going a million miles an hour.

Something was going on with Sango. Something more than just job-related stress.

Maybe she has a new boyfriend who’s got her all distracted.

For just a moment his guts recoiled in a brief, mad jealousy, then he let himself relax and let out a snort under his breath. Who was he kidding? She didn’t even have time for him , and he saw her practically every damn day.

No, it was something else. Something he was now determined to find out. And let nothing else be said about Miroku Houshi but that he was good at finding shit out.

He cast her another glance out of the corner of his eye to find that she was looking right at him, and he quickly disappeared behind his champagne glass and then stood up to welcome Inuyasha back to the table.

“Well done, pal,” he whispered as Inuyasha all but collapsed back into his seat. Onstage, they were presenting the award for Directing, so they had to be as quiet as possible.

Inuyasha just set the award in front of himself on the table, eyeing it glumly. Kikyou, of course, immediately leaned over in her seat and planted a kiss on Inuyasha’s cheek, whispering what looked like “Congratulations” and maybe a few somethings more into his ear.

Inuyasha didn’t reply or react, just stared at the award, his blank look slowly morphing into a contemptuous glower.

“Inuyasha,” Miroku mumbled under his breath, “Fix your face. Photographers.”

The grumpy look disappeared and was replaced with what looked like zen-like concentration once again.

Kikyou, for her part, seemed not to notice Inuyasha’s clear discomfort and looped her arm around his as the stage was cleared once more and another presenter came along to present some technical award.

Finally, it was time for Best Actress. Miroku sipped his champagne as Kikyou seemed to cling to Inuyasha with even more fervor than before.

The presenter stepped up, gave the whole spiel about actresses being the guiding light that would bring the masses to enlightenment, all the wonderful bullshit Miroku had come to expect. 

“And the Critics’ Choice Award for Best Actress goes to…”

Kikyou brought both her hands, and Inuyasha’s hand caught between them, to her face. She was obviously trying to keep from hyperventilating. 

“...Kikyou Higurashi!”

And there it was. The first actual award Kikyou had won this awards season. She’d been royally snubbed by absolutely everyone else (the lesser awards, of course), but here she was. She had a chance of snagging the Oscar after all. The Globes would reveal how much of a chance, of course, but still, there was a chance.

She stood, planted another loving kiss on Inuyasha’s cheek (which he took with a mild smirk, like, okay, sure, let’s just get through this bullshit), and walked through an applauding crowd to the podium. 

“Oh my goodness! ” she exclaimed once she had the floor. Miroku called for more champagne over his shoulder, keeping his expression stonefaced.

“I am so honored ,” Kikyou said, cradling the award like it was a newborn child, “to be counted among the amazing actresses who stood here before me. I am so very, very proud to be a part of the women in Hollywood who are making a difference.”

Miroku cast a look at the back of Sango, who was obviously downing a glass of wine or champagne or some such. Yes, the women who make a real difference.

“I of course have to thank my costar, and my most beloved, Inuyasha Takahashi.”

Applause, applause. Miroku took his freshly-refilled glass and put a good dent in it.

“Inuyasha,” Kikyou leaned forward over the podium, putting on that whole wonderful innocent and lovely act, looking right at the man sitting next to him, “You are the reason I’m here right now. And I know that you and I have been through a lot, but that doesn’t change the fact that I love you. So very, very much.”

Miroku choked on his gulp of champagne. Inuyasha looked briefly horrified, then eased into an awkward smile as the crowd cheered and applauded around him. Thank goodness he was a fucking professional.

Miroku cut a look at Sango as the applause roared. Sango looked over her shoulder at Inuyasha, an eyebrow raised, and there was a sincere look of disgust on her face before Warner seemed to call her name and that look disappeared and she was back to the ruthless woman scorned.

There was a strong urge to gaze after her like a lovesick puppy, but Miroku was able to muscle himself out of it and carry on.

“Thank you so much,” Kikyou finished tearfully, clutching her award and being ushered offstage.

Miroku offhandedly wondered if Kagome was watching this. 

He pulled out his phone and absently checked her Instagram. Quite a few new photos. Several shots of screaming crowds and stage lights and pandemonium, framed ever so nicely as only Kagome could capture it. A photo of Kagome with some of her Amsterdam buddies, standing outside of a cafe in the light of a lovely sunset. She seemed to have a new streak of color in her hair; it was either purple or blue but it was hard to tell with the lighting of the photo. And was that a tattoo on her arm?

Miroku couldn’t help the smile that rose to his face.

No, she wasn’t watching. She was busy giving the world hell. Just like he’d told her to. 

 


 

“Takahashi!”

Inuyasha looked up from his post at the bar, waiting for the bartender to assemble the drinks he’d ordered.

It was Kouga. The last person he fucking wanted to see right now.

“Fuck off, Kouga,” Inuyasha grunted.

Kouga seemed to take in the entire sight of him and smirk. “What’s wrong with you?” he said, sliding up next to Inuyasha at the bar, under the almost numbing lights of the afterparty. “You just won your eighteen-thousandth award of the season. What could have you so miserable? ” The fact that he’d phrased that just like Yura would have didn’t endear him much in Inuyasha’s mind.

“I said, fuck off .”

“Where’s Kagome?”

Inuyasha banged a fist on the table and turned to Kouga, giving him his full goddamn attention. “Why do you ask?” he said, dangerously softly.

Kouga noticed the display of hostility, blinked, and shrugged it off as he pulled a cigarette out and went to light it. “I’ve missed her. She’s missed the last two awards shows, and people have noticed. What’s going on?”

Inuyasha growled in warning, then reached out to snatch the freshly-lit cigarette from Kouga’s grasp before the other man could even take a drag. He inhaled, then replied.

“She’s gone. She’s done. What more do you want? Should I write it out in crayon for you?”

Kouga looked genuinely bewildered, though Inuyasha guessed that wasn’t the first time. From what he knew of Kouga, Kouga would look bewildered if you asked him to do basic math. Well, maybe not basic math. But Algebra II would have stumped him. Yeah. 

“She dumped you, huh?” Kouga smirked.

Okay, maybe I’ve been underestimating him this whole time.

Inuyasha didn’t answer, just took another drag of the stolen cigarette. “You say that like we were together .”

Kouga lit another cigarette and leaned over on the bar with a knowing look that Inuyasha simultaneously feared and hated.

“Weren’t you?” Kouga said softly, “I thought you were my biggest rival in this whole game. Apparently not.”

Inuyasha abruptly turned to face him, and Kouga leaned back in an almost easygoing manner.

“So, what I’m taking from all this is, I can date Kagome?” Kouga said, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke in Inuyasha’s face.

Inuyasha stood up from the barstool and lunged for him, but he ducked out of it with an infuriating laugh.

“Takahashi,” he said, clapping a hand on Inuyasha’s shoulder, “Your girl is looking for you.” Kouga nodded up toward the roped-off VIP section, where Kikyou and Hojo were sitting, Kikyou’s eyes trained only on the scene below her. “You’d better get up there.”

“The fuck is your problem, Okami?” Inuyasha demanded, slapping his hand away.

“My problem,” Kouga said, “is that you got an amazing girl right in your lap, and you’re probably gonna win the goddamn Oscar. It’s just not fair. The rule of averages should apply at some point.”

And with that, Kouga walked away, with one last clap on Inuyasha’s back that was way harder than it should have been.

Inuyasha looked up at Kikyou, who looked down at him with a smile and a wink.

 


 

“Congratulations, Inuyasha, and Kikyou,” Sango said in turn, sliding herself into the VIP booth across from them, holding up her skirt to make it a little easier to maneuver.

Inuyasha sat there, Kikyou leaning against his shoulder, his expression almost muted. He simply nodded in acknowledgment. Kikyou, however, was excited .

“Sango,” she said, sounding like a crazed teenager as she held up the award, “This is amazing! This is just like what you said! We’re - well, we’re--”

“Back in business,” Sango finished for her with a gentle smile.

Kikyou smiled. “Just like you said we would be!”

I really wish you would shut the hell up.

Sango gave a surreptitious glance at Inuyasha, who had clearly picked up on the hints in the conversation and was sending her a very suspicious narrow-eyed glare. She pretended not to notice as Kikyou kept talking.

“Inuyasha,” Kikyou said, turning to him and leaning even closer, a bright smile on her face, “How are you not freaking out right now? We just both got Critics’ Choice Awards!

Didn’t have much to say when Inuyasha got LA and NY Critics Awards beforehand, did you? Sango took a delicate sip of her drink and lowered her eyes.

Inuyasha, for his part, seemed to lighten up a little at Kikyou’s prompting and actually let himself smile . Well, not really a smile, but his face moved a little. That should count, right?

“This is all we ever talked about,” Kikyou said, as if there weren’t other people seated at the table who could hear everything she was saying, “Remember? When we were both auditioning for the-”

“For the silly indie movies with directors we’d never heard of,” Inuyasha finished with a very subdued but perhaps genuine smile at Kikyou, “You’re right.”

Kikyou just gave a quiet squeal of delight and clutched Inuyasha’s arm closer.

“Scoot over,” a low male voice sounded behind Sango, and she immediately knew who it was and her heart started pounding as she did what she was told.

Miroku slid into the booth beside her, and when he seemed to land on the extra tulle material of her skirt, he gently picked it up from beneath him and lifted it towards her, without even a glance in her direction.

“So you both got Critics’ Choice,” he said to Kikyou and Inuyasha, who turned to look at him as he sat down, “Well done. But the fun ain’t over yet. The Golden Globes will tell all.”

Kikyou nodded in agreement. Inuyasha just raised an eyebrow and looked elsewhere.

Sango, from her seat beside him, felt Miroku’s phone buzzing in his pocket, but he seemed to ignore it.

“Hojo,” Kikyou said, holding her glass up, “I need a refill.”

Hojo immediately sprang up from his seat and went to retrieve it. 

“This is where the shit gets real,” Miroku said, leaning forward, his hands clasped in front of him, and then he finally looked toward Sango for agreement.

Sending him a brief venomous look, she nodded and added, “It really is. The Oscar voting closes a few days after the Globes. So at the Globes, we have to put on the best possible front.”

“Front? What do you mean?” It really was amazing, the way Kikyou could play babe in the woods like this. So innocent. So clueless. And Sango knew she was full of shit the entire way through.

“What we mean,” Sango said, casting a glance at Miroku, who wasn’t even looking at her, “is that this is where we do the official announcement.”

“That we’re back together?” Kikyou said hopefully, giving a wonderfully-placed and hopeful glance at Inuyasha.

“...If that’s okay with both of you.” Sango sent Inuyasha a meaningful look, but he looked so broken and out of it that she wasn’t sure he was even reading her at this point.

“Have you mentioned the contracts?” Miroku said, leaning his head onto his chin and lighting the cigarette he’d just placed between his lips. He was still refusing to meet Sango’s eyes and it was unnerving.

Kikyou’s eyes flashed knowingly, but Inuyasha furrowed his brow. “ What contracts?”

Sango cleared her throat. “Sunrise Studios, as a reward for all your hard work and commitment to the motion picture industry-”

“Cut the bullshit, Sango. Please. What do the contracts say? ” Inuyasha gently pushed away from Kikyou and set up his own post in the corner of the booth, folding his arms across his chest.

Sango opened her mouth to reply, but Miroku cut in smoothly.

“Five years. Over ten mil per film. Complete creative control. You pick the projects. You get the basically unlimited budget.”

Inuyasha’s jaw dropped a little, until he remembered himself and sat back in his seat again, keeping his face neutral.

“Oh, my god,” Kikyou said, as if she was just hearing of this now, “Can you just imagine it?” She turned to Inuyasha and all but pawed at his arm until he relented and let her cling to it. “We can control all of it. Whatever project we want, whenever we want. Just like you always talked about,” she smiled demurely and swallowed before continuing, “...when we were just starting out, I mean.”

Inuyasha was frowning at the tabletop, clearly puzzling it over. Sango couldn’t blame him. This was a hell of a deal. Any actor’s dream. 

“This is for both of us, I take it?” Inuyasha finally said quietly, “Both me and Kikyou? Together?”

Sango nodded silently. Miroku took another drag of his smoke, his face impassive. Kikyou just snuggled closer into Inuyasha’s arm.

Inuyasha sighed heavily. “I need to think about it,” he said, his eyes finally meeting Sango’s.

“Of course you do,” Sango said, trying to be as understanding as possible. Miroku just sniffed as he ashed his cigarette.

 


 

“Houshi!”

Miroku looked up, squinting slightly from the chilly, misty rain that was falling. He tossed the remainder of his cigarette to the ground as his cab pulled up.

“Sango,” he said genially.

“Do you think he’ll take it?” she asked, both of her fists gripping her enormous skirts, trying and failing to prevent them from getting wet or dirty in the rain. Her hair was starting to get wet, a strand clinging to the side of her cheek.

He brushed it away nonchalantly. “If it’s a good enough deal,” he muttered.

Sango looked briefly confused. “He already knows it’s a good deal,” she puzzled, “What do you mean?”

Miroku just looked at her evenly, feeling his phone buzzing again in his pocket. “It’s got to be worth losing something else. Something very, very precious.”

Sango’s eyes widened with understanding, and then suddenly she looked like she’d known this fact all along and had just been avoiding confronting it until now. “Yeah,” she said softly, looking very troubled indeed.

“You want my opinion?” Miroku said, opening the cab door and turning back to face her, “Not that you ever did, but you want it now?”

She stood there, her dress slowly being ruined in the rain, her wet hair plastered against her forehead. “Yes.” She looked like she had so much she wanted to say, and he was of half a mind to let her say it, but then again, he had somewhere to be.

“The deal isn’t worth it,” he said, and then he closed the cab door and sped away.

Finally, he could answer his phone without people breathing down his neck.

“Hey, kid,” he said, unable to help the smile rising to his face, “I’m on my way. See you in a few.”

Chapter 47: A Sight For Sore Eyes

Summary:

In which Inuyasha goes into a laughing fit, Sango's dress gets wet and she needs a ride home, and Miroku has to go to the airport.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty-Seven

A Sight For Sore Eyes

 

“You sure you don’t want to come back with me?” Kikyou said from underneath the outstretched umbrella some nameless employee was holding out for her, her face set in an adorable pout, “We have a lot to talk about.”

Inuyasha sighed from beneath the awning above the alley door, tossing the remainder of his last cigarette of the night onto the damp pavement. Thank god for private nightclub alleyways where the prying public weren’t allowed. 

Said prying public were still down the way, of course, taking their constant photos and calling out Inuyasha’s name, Kikyou’s name, Inuyasha’s name again. Even though several burly security guards (who honestly could have moonlighted as pro wrestlers in the eighties) and a few barricades were blocking the view. They were all standing there, in the pouring rain, holding camera phones over their heads just trying to catch a glimpse of their movie star idols. 

Inuyasha could remember a time, long ago, when he might have been one of them, and the thought made him a little bit sad and very, very irritated. Nothing ever fucking turns out like you want it to.

Kikyou seemed to take his awkward silence as a definitive answer, and she gave a little whimper of frustration before speaking again. 

“I just want you to know,” she said sweetly, stepping up into his personal space and placing a hand on the side of his face as Hojo pulled into the alley with her car, “I’m so proud of you. You’re everything I ever thought you could be and more.”

“Yeah?” he said testily, looking down at her in the dim lamplight. 

Her hair was starting to get a little damp in the rain, that long, straight, sleek black hair that had always been so soft to the touch. Her ruby red lips were curled into that same soft smile, the one like she knew too much and nothing at all at the same time. Her hand went from the side of his face into a lock of his hair, which she started to twirl gently in her fingers, keeping her eyes to his.

There was a banging sound as the metal door leading to the alley opened, and Sango stomped outside, stumbling on her clearly ruined and muddy skirt. She was soaked from the rain, her bangs flat against her forehead and hiding half of her gaze.

“You okay?” Inuyasha said to Sango as he stepped back from Kikyou, eager for the distance.

“Fine,” Sango muttered, squeezing a good trickle of water from her ponytail, “Can I have a ride home, Inuyasha? I need a word. When you get a second, that is.” She leaned out from under the awning, looking around with a bemused look at the gathered crowd, the bouncers, and poor Hojo standing there soaked and shivering with the car door open, waiting for Kikyou to get in the backseat.

Kikyou turned to Sango briefly, looking her up and down with clear distaste for her disheveled state, then seemed to glance at Hojo, register his presence, and ignore him. She turned back to Inuyasha, her face once again that beautiful mask of loving sweetness.

“When we sign those contracts,” she said softly, “We’re going to be amazing together. Back on top, honey. We did it!” Her smile widened into that same easygoing grin he’d always loved.

“Jerkface.”

No, not the same one. There was no dimple on her cheek.

“I feel like high-fiving myself.”

It wasn’t the same.

“Let’s go scream til we’re hoarse!”

It was all wrong. It had always been wrong. And he’d known that. He’d known and he’d pretended he didn’t. For nostalgia’s sake, for weird misplaced memories, for the status quo he’d grown so used to over eight years.

“I’m trying to say that I love you, you moron.”

Inuyasha took Kikyou’s outstretched hand, which had been reaching for his face…

“You have some shit to figure out, Inuyasha.”

Too fucking right, kiddo. And the answer had been staring him in the face the entire time.

He threw Kikyou’s hand away so sharply that she gasped in surprise.

“I’m not signing shit ,” he said softly, his eyes boring directly into those of the woman he’d once fancied himself hopelessly and irrevocably in love with. Those eyes used to send him spiraling into a hazy, tongue-tied stupor. No more. Never again. 

Never, ever again.

“What?” Kikyou had her best hurt face on.

“You heard me,” Inuyasha hissed, “I’m not signing shit.

“You can’t be serious!”

“As a heart attack.”

“It’s a five picture deal! We’ll be the King and Queen of Hollywood for the rest of our lives if we go through with this!”

“It’s not worth losing Kagome. You and I had our run, Kikyou. And it ended in bullshit and damn near bloodshed. And I’m in love with your sister.” 

God, that felt good to say. He decided to repeat it a few times in his head for good measure. I’m in love with Kagome. I’m in love with Kagome. I’m so goddamn hopelessly head-over-heels in love with Kagome Higurashi that it’s ridiculous. But the good kind of ridiculous. My favorite kind of ridiculous.

“But-” Kikyou’s wide brown eyes filled with tears, and she seemed to be grasping at straws, her voice almost sputtering in protest, “Kagome knew about the contracts, Inuyasha. She knew what a career move this was for both of us. And she left, Has she even called you once? Or texted you? She’s moved on , Inuyasha. To give the two of us another chance.”

Inuyasha fought the urge to growl at the insinuation that Kagome wasn’t interested anymore. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. There was only one way to find out, and that was talking to Kagome. Which he should have done every day since she left. Well, no one ever said I was a genius. All I do is stand in front of a camera and act for a living.

“Kagome knew about the contracts?” Inuyasha turned to Sango, who was about three feet away, leaning against the brick wall and clearly watching their conversation with undisguised interest.

Sango blinked at him, then nodded, like it was the most obvious fact in the world.

Inuyasha took the knowledge in, then turned back to Kikyou, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Wait a second,” he whispered, and Kikyou seemed to instantly realized what she’d let slip, “You say Kagome knew beforehand. That means you did too. You knew about this sweet-ass deal the whole fucking time. Five years, eight figures, creative control, if we get back together, huh?”

Kikyou opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. “It doesn’t change the fact that I love you and I want to try again. I’ve missed you since-”

Inuyasha burst out laughing in her face. “Oh god, just stop ,” he said, doubling over, feeling both furious and wonderfully liberated at the same time, “All this talk about supporting Kagome, about being there for me , it was all for this goddamn contract! I thought you were acting weird, but I figured if it was a genuine change of heart...this is amazing. This is honestly amazing .”

Kikyou moved again to grab his hand, and he sidestepped her, still laughing. “Nah, you can stop it now,” he said, still laughing, his tone almost good-natured, “You made your bed, Kikyou. It was a nice try, though, really. Almost had me making a huge mistake there.”

Kikyou’s wounded look was turned up to eleven now. “Wh-what about the Globes? What about the Oscars , Inuyasha?” She looked genuinely panicked.

Inuyasha just burst into another round of laugher. Tears were starting to pour out of his eyes at the effort to keep himself together. 

He looked up at Sango, who was staring at him wide-eyed, her eyebrow raised in what may have even been amusement. She was hiding it well.

His gaze returned to Kikyou, and he stepped in close to her. She seemed to visibly relax, clearly telling herself that he’d just been playing with her, that he wasn’t serious about rejecting the deal…

“Kikyou,” he said softly, placing a gentle hand on her bare shoulder. He leaned in over her ear, and she seemed to try and melt into his arms with a soft, relieved whisper of his name.

“I wouldn’t worry about the awards,” Inuyasha said, fighting to keep his voice from shaking with laughter again, “You’ll land on your feet. Or your back. You always have, right?”

She shrieked in fury and shoved away from him, clearly too insulted and out-of-sorts to even form coherent words. Her glare flashed to Sango, then back to him, and she turned on her heel and stomped out toward her car, where Hojo was still holding the door and now appeared to be soaked through to the bone. Hojo quickly shut the door after she got in, and with a last, puzzled look at both Inuyasha and Sango, he gratefully jumped into the driver’s seat and closed the car off from the rain before pulling off out of the alleyway, pausing only to let the bouncers move the barricades and crowds out of the way.

Inuyasha was still laughing under his breath as he turned to Sango.

She stepped up toward him, her arms folded, and shook her head. “You people,” she muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on her face, “Why can’t you ever make it easy for me?”

“Hey,” Inuyasha shrugged, “If you ask Miroku, we’re capable of much worse.”

“I’m sure you are,” she said, doing her best to look stern as she turned to address the nightclub employee who had been holding Kikyou’s umbrella for her (who was standing there looking wonderfully confused and embarrassed to have been privy to such a heated conversation), “Hi there. I represent Sunrise Studios, and I’d like you to know how much we appreciate your help tonight.” 

She handed him her business card. “This is my contact information. I’d like you to give me a call in the morning to discuss your future. Have you ever wanted to work in the movies? As a production assistant, perhaps?”

The kid nodded, eyes like dinner plates.

Sango gave him a glowing smile and threw an arm around his shoulders, giving a quick squeeze before letting go. “Then it’s settled! You just got your big break, pal. And all for being such a good umbrella-holder and for not telling any of your buddies what happened here tonight. They always say Hollywood is the land of dreams, right?”

The kid looked at her, at the card, and back at her, nodding emphatically, a huge smile on his face. “Th-thank you so much!”

“You’re so welcome. And just so you know, that offer is null and void if I hear anything about what you just overheard in the press or in the gossip columns tomorrow. This business is all about knowing who your friends are. Lesson number one, kid. And you know who your friends are, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Sango shook his hand. “Perfect,” she said, “Now run along. I’ll be expecting your call tomorrow, okay?”

The kid nodded and disappeared back into the club in a starstruck daze.

Sango sighed, rubbing her temples, and turned back to Inuyasha.

“You realize you just pissed off your leading lady beyond all reason?”

“Yep.” Inuyasha really couldn’t help the dopey grin on his face. He felt like he’d wandered into a hot sauna and hung out in there too long. Light as a feather and goofy as hell.

“And you realize I’m going to have to spend the next few days pacifying her so she doesn’t hire a hitman, right?”

“Look on the bright side. At least you’ve got some variety in your job description.”

She smirked. “We’ve still got open Oscar voting. I’ll have to figure something out for the Globes so there’s not a huge breakup scandal right as people are casting their ballots.”

“Do what you gotta do. You and Miroku. Whatever it is, I’m game. As long as it’s not pretending to be in love with Kikyou Higurashi anymore.”

Sango rolled her eyes and scoffed at the mention of Miroku, and it was Inuyasha’s turn to raise a knowing eyebrow at her . She ignored it and looked away.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Inuyasha asked as the rented limo pulled up and the driver ran up with an umbrella to escort them to the backseat door.

She gathered her sopping wet skirts in her hand and unceremoniously clambered into the backseat. “I was going to ask you if you really wanted to go through with all this,” she said, that half-smile returning to her lips, “But I guess you just answered my question pretty well.”

 


 

Miroku sat reading his favorite tabloid (the cover of which had Inuyasha and Kikyou on it, locked in that fashion editorial embrace) and stifled a yawn. He leaned back in the uncomfortable seat and stretched his long legs in front of him. 

He glanced at his watch. Three-thirty am. I should be asleep. Or drinking. Or asleep because of drinking. This is cutting into my valuable me-time. He clenched his jaw grumpily and resumed the article about which Hollywood actresses had been caught on the beach recently with (gasp) cellulite .

“Catching up on the classics, I see.”

Ah, that sweet, sweet voice. Miroku broke into a grin without even looking up, threw down the magazine, and jumped up to throw his arms around a grinning Kagome.

She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt, black leggings, and her tried-and-true combat boots. Her hair was up in a loose bun (the dyed streak he’d wondered about was, in fact, dark purple) and her face was without a lick of makeup. Dressed like she was going to bed and the signs of jetlag all over her and Miroku knew he’d never seen a sight so adorable and welcome and perfect.

As he released her from the tight hug, which she’d returned enthusiastically, he said, “Missed you, darlin. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Speaking of sore eyes,” she said, rubbing at the dark circles under her eyes, “I’m exhausted.”

He took one of her duffel bags from her hand and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s go home. I left your room just the same. Like a parent waiting for their prodigal child to return.”

“If you expect me to start calling you dad…” she said, grinning and shaking her head as they started walking through the airport to the parking garage.

“Is that a tattoo?” Miroku asked, nodding at the inside of Kagome’s left forearm.

“It is indeed,” she said with a yawn, holding it out for him to see.

He squinted at it, then looked at her with a shrug. “You’re gonna have to translate that for me. What does it mean?”

She told him, and he grinned and put his free arm around her shoulders, squeezing her affectionately. “You little minx,” he said, and she elbowed him playfully.

“So do you want to hear all about it?” she asked when they got to the car and piled her luggage in the trunk.

“About Amsterdam? I want every single detail. The photos you took, the people you met, the hearts you broke.”

“Shut up, Miroku,” she said with a sleepy smile, tumbling into the passenger seat and fastening her seatbelt.

He had missed hearing that the last few weeks. 

“I’ll tell you everything,” she couldn’t seem to stop yawning as she curled against the car window, “Tomorrow morning. When I’ve gotten over some of this damn jetlag.”

“I would have thought you’d want to go straight to see Inuyasha,” Miroku said coyly, and she seemed to sit up a little straighter.

There was silence for a few moments as Kagome seemed to think it over. “No,” she said with a shrug, flopping back into her comfortable position and letting her eyes close, “I’ll think about all that tomorrow. Right now, I just need sleep .”

Chapter 48: Sleep Is Overrated

Summary:

In which Sango has to once again play celebrity nursemaid, Inuyasha shares some exciting news, and Miroku just wants to get some goddamn sleep but can't.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty-Eight

Sleep Is Overrated

 

“Kikyou?” Sango called as she stepped into the front entryway. Hojo, in a very warm bathrobe and clearly grateful to be out of the rain, took her coat without a word and pointed down the hallway wordlessly. He looked very terrified and very out of sorts.

“Thanks, Hojo.” Sango patted him a few times on the shoulder as she passed, “Why don’t you get yourself to bed now? I’ll handle her.”

Hojo looked grateful, but he remembered himself and shook his head. “She wants tea,” he said, “I have to get her tea.”

“Well, go get it, and then make yourself invisible for a bit,” Sango said with a kind smile, “You need a bit of a break. She seems to be working you to death.”

Hojo was the kind of kid who’d never think of speaking badly about anyone, so he just nodded and wandered off to the kitchen to retrieve Kikyou’s tea.

Sango walked into the hallway, rolling up her sweater sleeves for better movement. She’d changed into jeans when she’d stopped at her apartment, though her hair was still wet. 

The door to Kagome’s old room was open, and the lamp was on.

Ah-ha.

Sango knocked quietly on the open door, leaning inside. “Kikyou?” she said again, softly.

Kikyou was sitting in the center of the room on her knees, her evening gown’s gigantic skirt spread all around her. The room around her was in shambles; she’d pulled all of Kagome’s books and albums off the shelves, tossing them every which way. Sango knew enough about Kagome to know that she treasured her books and music, and once again she was glad Kagome wasn’t here to see this. She might have had to pull Kagome off of Kikyou, and that little sister was a strong one. Sango had had a sore jaw for a week as evidence.

Kikyou didn’t look up as Sango walked into the room. She instead let out a huff of breath and continued furiously typing into her phone.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sango crossed her arms and shut the door behind her with her back.

Kikyou shot her a brief glare and returned to her phone. “I’m...deleting...and unfollowing...every bit of evidence...of Inuyasha and that little tramp ...off of my Instagram - hey!”

Sango snatched the phone from her and held it out of reach. “That would be a terrible career decision, Kikyou. Oscar voting is still open, isn’t it? Do you really want twenty news stories tomorrow morning about how you unfollowed both Inuyasha and Kagome? Cause that’s how many it would be. Twenty. At least.”

Kikyou kept her glare up, but seemed to be hesitating and turning over the idea in her mind.

“What are you even doing here?” Kikyou snapped finally.

Sango crouched next to her, Kikyou’s phone still in her hand. “I came to check up on you,” she said, “and boy, am I glad I did. You almost just made yourself into a crazy amount of tabloid news without thinking it through first.”

Kikyou sniffled petulantly and reached for her phone. Sango moved it away.

“Can I trust you to be smart about this? And undo everything you just did?” It was honestly like talking to a bratty middle-schooler. Sango needed a drink.

Kikyou pouted, but nodded, and Sango dropped the phone into her hand.

“If anyone asks, you were hacked and everything’s fine.”

Kikyou nodded as she started scrolling back through her Instagram, fixing the damage she’d just done. Sango watched over her shoulder like a hawk, making sure every little thing was fixed.

“This is ridiculous,” Kikyou muttered, “Why her when he could have me? She’s not even pretty, and she What could he possibly be thinking?

“He’s probably still a little mad that you threw him over for Naraku,” Sango supplied helpfully, suppressing a grin. Best not to mention that what Inuyasha and Kagome had was just about the cutest thing ever. No need to make the queen even angrier than she was right now.

“I threw Naraku over for him!” Kikyou protested, “So what’s the problem?

It’s just that simple to you, isn’t it? Whoever you want, you just get, with no repercussions?

Sango sighed. There was no getting through to her right now. “Anyways,” she said, standing back up, “Now that I’ve prevented you from going nuts on social media, I just have one more thing to discuss with you, and then you should maybe go take a hot bath.”

“What’s that?” Kikyou snapped, as Hojo knocked and entered with a cup of hot tea on a tray. He knelt next to Kikyou as she took it, and then backed out of the room, sending Sango a brief terrified glance. Sango shot him a reassuring wink before he disappeared.

“The question of who you’re taking to the Golden Globes, now that Inuyasha’s clearly out.”

Kikyou’s face screwed up in utter fury and she threw the cup of tea into Kagome’s old television set. It shattered.

“Cute,” Sango said, sitting on the bed and crossing her legs, “but that doesn’t answer my question. Of course, if it helps, I have a few suggestions for you.”

 


 

Miroku had gotten Kagome all settled (he’d all but carried her inside, his knees trembling under the combined weight of both her and all her luggage) and was lying down for a merciful round of slumber when, of course, his goddamn phone rang.

“Sango,” he mumbled grumpily, his eyes still closed, “I’m sleeping. Call me in the morning.”

“Miroku?”

“Inuyasha?”

“I’m coming over. I can’t sleep and I have to talk to you. Now.”

“Oh, sure,” Miroku said, rubbing his eyes, “Sleep is overrated, anyway. And you know I’m here to serve.”

“This is important. It can’t wait. A lot of shit’s happened and I need your help.”

“Of course you do. You always need my help. I’m surprised you can even tie your shoes by yourself.”

“Fuck off, Houshi. See you in a few minutes.”

“Yep.” Miroku groaned and tossed his phone to the foot of the bed, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over his own face.

Several minutes later, the phone rang, and Miroku sat up, trudged into the kitchen, picked up the phone, and mumbled to the doorman to let whoever was in the lobby up. Then he sat, bleary-eyed, on the couch, waiting for the telltale knock on the front door.

Ah, there it was.

“I just told Kikyou to fuck off,” Inuyasha said when Miroku opened the front door. He rushed past through the doorway and began pacing back and forth in the living room, his eyes darting back and forth.

“Sorry, what?” Miroku shut the door with a raised eyebrow and stared at his very famous friend, who was acting like an unleashed dog.

“Yeah, I did,” Inuyasha kept pacing, “Well, more or less. I told her I’m not signing the contract.”

“And how did she react?”

“She was mad. She left pretty quickly.”

“Great. So we’ve got Kikyou on the warpath now. This could be bad. I’ll call Sango.” Miroku tied his robe shut and went to grab his phone.

“Sango already knows. She was there. She’s going to take care of it, she said.”

Miroku stopped, turned, raised an eyebrow. “She did, did she?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “That explains the phone calls I’ve been ignoring.”

“What the hell is going on with you two, anyway?” Inuyasha stopped pacing and turned to face him.

“Absolutely nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just had some personal business to take care of tonight and I didn’t want to get distracted.”

“What personal business could you possibly have?” 

Miroku just smiled cryptically. “Want a drink?” he said, crossing to the bar.

“Hell yes.” Inuyasha sank into an armchair with a sigh.

Miroku quickly mixed two Cuba Libres and handed one to Inuyasha. Inuyasha took it and drained a good half of the glass before almost coughing it all back up. 

“Ugh, what the hell? This tastes like shit!” Inuyasha cried, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Miroku blinked at him, then looked down at his own glass, taking a tentative sip. He grimaced slightly. “So it does,” he said coolly, “Guess the Coke’s gone bad. Whoops.” He turned back to the bar. “Guess we’re doing straight whiskeys, then.”

“Works for me,” Inuyasha said, “You got any cigarettes?”

“Pack’s on the balcony.”

Inuyasha shoved himself through the patio door in a desperate attempt for nicotine.

“Miroku?” A small voice sounded from the hallway. Miroku, in the middle of pouring a few fingers of whiskey for his famous guest, turned at the sound.

Kagome stood in the doorway of the guest room, rubbing at her eyes, her hair a wild, tangled mess.

“I hate to ask this, seeing as it’s your place and all,” she mumbled, almost incoherently, running a hand through that tangled mane of curly, crazy hair, “but can you keep it down a smidge?”

“Of course we can. I’m sorry,” Miroku said, putting down the bottle and glass and going to her to ruffle her wild hair, “Didn’t mean to wake you up. I thought you were down for the count.”

“Who’s here with you?” she said quietly through a yawn.

“Inuyasha.”

Her eyes widened for a split second, but sleepiness seemed to take over and she nodded complacently. “Oh, okay. That’s nice.”

“Do you want to know why he’s here?”

Kagome was falling asleep against the doorframe, and she shook herself awake. “I told you, I’ll worry about all that tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Night, kid.” Miroku couldn’t help the gleeful smile as she disappeared behind the closed bedroom door. He returned to the bar and finished pouring the drinks, then let himself out onto the balcony.

“So, Inuyasha,” he said, handing his friend a drink, “Tell me all about what happened with Kikyou.” His phone vibrated. “Actually no, tell me in just a second.”

 


 

“Hello?”

“Houshi,” Sango said, trying to keep her voice from shouting into the Bluetooth as she made a right turn, “I’m on my way over. I know you’ve been ignoring me and we don’t have to address that. We can just forget about that right now. This is business.”

“Is it now?” She could almost see his irritating, knowing smile through the phone.

Sango frowned and wanted to send a sniping remark over the line, but she knew that would have just fueled Miroku’s fire. “Yes,” she said, her voice even and professional, the tone that said she wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit, not that he cared about that.

“Well, then,” he said, “Come on over. Apparently no one observes normal sleeping hours anyway in this goddamn town.”

She rolled her eyes and hung up.

 


 

“So, I realized almost immediately that that was what Kikyou had been gunning for this whole time. She doesn’t want me, she wants the contract. She wants the fame. She wants the money. And she’s always wanted that.”

Miroku cut his eyes toward Inuyasha, who was leaning against the railing on the balcony, chain-smoking and drinking up a storm, his white hair blowing in the night breeze.

“So are you okay?” was the only response Miroku could think up. Inuyasha had rambled his ear off for a good twenty minutes and hadn’t even seemed to stop to breathe.

Inuyasha stopped short, seemingly amused that Miroku had even asked this question. “Are you acting like you care?” he said, with a wry smirk and an inhale of his smoke.

“I actually do care,” Miroku said, inhaling his own cigarette with a shrug.

Inuyasha took him in for a moment, then broke into a genuine grin. “Yeah,” he said finally, “I think I’m just fine. In fact, I feel better and clearer than I have in a while.”

“So what are we doing about the Globes?”

Inuyasha immediately scoffed. “Of course that’s your first thought.”

Miroku threw up his hands. “Hey, you pay me to be the mercenary one. But seriously, what are we doing about the Globes?”

Inuyasha pressed his lips together, staring out at the pitch-black horizon. “I guess it’s too much to ask that I bring Kagome as my date?”

Miroku suppressed a snort. “You sure she’d even go with you?”

Inuyasha shot him a glare. “If she did, would you let it happen?”

Miroku gave a small grimace, and Inuyasha noted it, sighed, and gave a resigned nod. “Yeah,” he said, “I figured as much. So what do we do?”

Miroku was unable to keep himself from fighting back a small chuckle, who knew why. Well, Miroku knew why. But damned if he was going to tell Inuyasha why without leading him along on a string for a good while first. Once a press agent, always a press agent.

“I have a good idea,” Miroku said, “You know all those charities you sponsor?”

“Yeah?” It was Inuyasha’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Find a poor, lonely, sick kid to bring with you to the Globes, and I’ll push the angle that you’re making a grand statement for awareness and whatnot.”

Inuyasha frowned. “That seems a little disingenuous,” he said, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, “even for you.”

“You try and find a way to spin the fact that you and Kikyou are suddenly appearing separately on a red carpet and not have it look like a dramatic breakup.”

“We were never fucking together ,” Inuyasha growled.

“That doesn’t mean everyone wasn’t eating up and you know it,” Miroku said, “So we gotta deflect. Just deflect. Until the Oscar voting closes the night of the Globes and then who gives a shit.”

“I don’t care about the fucking Oscars!”

“So you’ve said,” Miroku replied calmly, “Multiple times. But I do care about the Oscars. I care about your future career prospects. And I promise you, in the very near future and regardless of what further drama your personal life lends us, you will care too. This Oscar has your goddamn name on it. So pipe down, stay put, smile, and win the damn thing.”

Inuyasha gave a dramatic scoff and glared out over the balcony. “What about Kagome?”

“Showing up solo. As per usual. Don’t worry, she’s a trooper and she’s used to it. She won’t throw a fit about it.”

Inuyasha growled under his breath, stubbed out the remainder of the cigarette, and downed some more whiskey. “When does she get back, by the way?”

“No idea.” Miroku kept his expression stonefaced and turned away to smile into his sip of whiskey.

Inuyasha leaned even further over the balcony, his hands clasped on the railing in front of him. There was a quiet moment as Miroku watched him close his eyes and let the wind hit his face.

“I don’t care about any of this anymore,” Inuyasha said, gesturing to the skyline below them, “I just know I want her. And I’ll do whatever it takes to be worthy of her.”

Miroku couldn’t help it. He let out a full-on laugh of relief and happiness. “I thought you’d eventually see the light,” he said, raising his glass to a bewildered Inuyasha in a sort of half-assed toast. 

“Why are you so happy?” Inuyasha said grumpily, “This has to be throwing a wrench in all your evil plans.”

“Oh, it is,” Miroku said, “And I couldn’t be happier for it. This has been a long goddamn time coming. About time you realized which sister was the better one. Although I still resent you for the fact you were spoiled for choice here.”

Inuyasha’s frown turned into an understanding smirk, and he turned back to the horizon over the balcony. “My problem now is I have to make everything right with her. Convince her that I’m for real this time. That Kikyou isn’t even an issue anymore.”

Miroku rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess that will be the tricky part,” he said, “but hey. You’re the most famous motherfucker in the world. If you can’t convince a girl you’re the best thing ever and she should sign up to be your life partner, who can?”

Inuyasha didn’t look convinced, and Miroku almost thought of telling him to go ahead and let himself into the first bedroom in the left down the hallway, but then the phone rang.

“That’ll be Sango,” he said, slipping through the patio door and going to buzz her in.

Chapter 49: A Full-On Diva Tantrum

Summary:

In which Sango forgets to put tonic water in her vodka, Kagome has a nightmare, and Miroku just wants to get his mack on without Inuyasha killing the vibe.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Forty-Nine

A Full-On Diva Tantrum

 

“Hey, Houshi,” Sango said, immediately brushing past him to kick off her high heels and drop her purse onto the couch, “Got anything to drink?”

Miroku fought the urge to close his eyes as the scent of her perfume washed over him and instead shot her a telltale smirk. “Who do you think you’re talking to, babe? Whiskey and water okay?”

“That’s fine,” she said, running her fingers through her still-damp hair, “but I’d just as soon take a vodka tonic if you have it. Gotta fit in a very tight dress at the Globes, you understand.”

Miroku immediately wanted to ask her what was with the repeated dresses at all the latest events, but decided he had bigger fish to fry. He crossed to the bar to fix her a drink. He turned back around to find her sprawled out unceremoniously over the sofa cushions, a hand over her eyes.

“Here,” he said as he placed the cool glass in her hand, “Wasn’t sure if you wanted ice, but the tonic water’s refrigerated.”

“It’s perfect,” she said, sounding genuinely grateful as she removed her hand from her face and sat up to take a sip, “You even put a lime in it.”

“If someone hands you a vodka tonic and doesn’t offer a lime, they’re a terrible bartender,” Miroku said sagely.

There was silence for a few seconds as Sango gulped down a generous helping of her drink, coughed softly, and leaned back into the couch cushions.

“So?” Miroku said, sitting down beside her, careful not to touch her outstretched legs.

“So,” Sango said, “I just came from Kikyou’s place a few minutes ago.”

“And?”

“After the awards last night, Inuyasha got fed up and told her off. A long time coming, if you ask me.”

Miroku feigned ignorance and surprise. “Huh. How about that, there.”

“Yeah,” Sango said, taking another sip of her drink and sitting up straighter, all business and game plans and chessmaster-y, “But she’s mad as hell , Houshi. Like, she just destroyed Kagome’s old room. And I had to stop her from unfollowing and deleting both of them off all her social media accounts.”

“Good call,” Miroku said, “That would have made Yura and all her compatriots have a gigantic shitfit.”

Sango smiled at the praise, then kept going. “I was there, Houshi. Inuyasha told Kikyou to leave him alone. For good this time. I was actually sort of proud of him. He just laughed at her. It was amazing.”

“Oooh,” Miroku said, “I’m sure Kikyou just loved that.”

“I mean, like I said, she went straight home and started destroying Kagome’s room. Didn’t even change out of her bajillion-dollar dress first.”

“So she’s out to burn it all down, then,” Miroku said, “This will be interesting.”

“And the headlines tomorrow, well, today, are going to be just as interesting. On the one hand, we’ve got this anguished declaration of love from Kikyou in her Critics’ Choice acceptance speech, and then we’ve got a brief blip on her social media that she can explain away as a hack or a glitch, but it sure looks like she unfollowed and then refollowed Inuyasha and Kagome. So we’ve got some wonderful juggling of stories to do.” Sango frowned into her drink. “I came to ask you -” She seemed to rethink her question, and looked away.

“Came to ask me what?” Miroku found himself watching her legs cross and wanting nothing more than to just lean a little further down the couch and…

“Well,” Sango seemed to be struggling to word it, and her cheeks were slowly turning pink, “I came to ask you what our gameplan should be.”

Miroku fought back a genuinely thrilled smile. “ Our gameplan, you say?”

It was just delicious, watching her squirm in her seat as she looked anywhere but his eyes. “It’s just - I think you’d agree that we’re both at our best when we’re on the same page, right? Two heads are better than one, and all that…” She trailed off, looking like she wanted to flip off the couch and bolt out the door at the soonest opportunity.

“Are you saying,” Miroku said, letting the hand that wasn’t closed around his drink just drift slowly down to her ankle, where he rested it with nigh the weight of a feather, “that you need me?”

“Not need ,” Sango insisted, turning even redder, though she didn’t pull away from his touch, “Just...just...I could use a second opinion on this stuff. Since it’s my first awards season, after all.”

“You’ve been doing wonderfully,” Miroku said in a low voice, unable to keep the soft smile from his face, “ Too wonderfully, at times. You’re already giving every other press agent in Hollywood a run for their money. You were made for this job, babe. You don’t need a blacklisted asshole like me, do you?”

She winced. He relished it.

“I owe you an apology,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry I said that.”

Miroku waved it off like it was nothing, though it certainly hadn’t been at the time she’d originally said it. “I said way worse to you at the time, and I apologize for that. So we can be friends again, right?”

Sango’s lips curled into a smile. “Friends,” she agreed.

Cue the awkward silence. Were we ever actually friends or just fighting this godforsaken attraction to each other the whole time god dammit this sucks just as bad . Miroku cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

“So what should we do?” Sango said, crossing her legs beneath her on the couch (and removing them from Miroku’s reach, curse it all).

“Well-” Miroku started to say, but the patio door slid open and in stumbled one of the topics of conversation.

“Miroku,” Inuyasha said, holding up his empty glass of whiskey, “Where’s the bottle?”

Miroku did his level best to ignore the unamused look Sango was sending his way and replied, “Here, give it to me, I’ll refill it. Look who’s here, though.” He gestured sweepingly.

Inuyasha nodded at the woman on the couch. “Hey, Sango. Sorry you had to see all that, earlier.”

“No problem,” Sango said, though she was still no doubt staring at Miroku with narrowed eyes, “How long have you been here, Inuyasha?”

“A good thirty minutes or so,” Miroku answered for him.

“I see,” she said evenly.

Miroku consciously ignored the looks she was giving him and stood up from the couch, walking over to take Inuyasha’s glass from him and crossing back to the bar. “Sango, need a refill?”

“I’ll get it myself,” she said, and he heard her stand up behind him, just as he simultaneously heard Inuyasha plop himself down into an armchair.

“Thirty minutes, huh?” Sango hissed out of the corner of her mouth as she violently splashed more vodka into her glass, spilling some over the side.

“You want me to get that?” Miroku said, unable to help the smile rising to his face. He held up a paper towel.

“Fuck off, Houshi,” she grumbled, snatching it from his hand and wiping up the spill, “Just when I think you’re going to keep me up to speed on everything, like I was trying to do for you - “

Miroku reached out and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, and she seemed to lose all power of speech as her eyes widened and met his.

“Sorry,” he said, “I just wanted to hear you talk for a while. Missed the sound of your voice when you’re planning and plotting.”

“H-Houshi,” was all she said, her face beet red once more. She went to take a sip of her drink, apparently forgetting that she hadn’t put any tonic water in it to dilute it, and coughed and spluttered at the no doubt jarring taste of straight vodka on her lips.

He patted her gently on the back until she stood up straight again, conveniently leaving his hand pressed between her shoulder blades. She was a good six inches shorter than he was without those heels on. He smiled down at her, leaned in...she wasn’t stopping him...he leaned in further…

“Ugh,” Inuyasha said, “Is my whiskey ready yet? I don’t want you two swapping spit into my glass, thanks.”

“Keep your voice down, Inuyasha,” Miroku turned to him tersely, “Maybe someone somewhere is sleeping, and they don’t deserve a full-on diva tantrum jarring them out of a peaceful slumber.” Of course, part of me wants to just let him do it. Either way, this is super entertaining.

“Whatever,” Inuyasha grouched, standing up, “I gotta take a leak.”

Miroku just grinned at Sango, who looked at him very questioningly, and decided right then and there to throw a nice, adorable little wrench in the works for Inuyasha. He wanted a little private time with Sango, and this was the best way to get it.

“Don’t use the main bathroom,” he lied smoothly, “I’ve got maintenance coming in the morning. But the one in the guest bedroom is working just fine.”

“Ten-four,” Inuyasha said grumpily, shuffling past them and entering the dark bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

“Sango, babe,” Miroku said, unable to keep the look of glee off his face as he took her hand, “There may be one extra little detail about tonight that I haven’t mentioned to you yet.”

 


 

“Inuyasha, you are the reason I’m here right now. And I know that you and I have been through a lot, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you. So very, very much.” Kikyou’s tearful confession in front of the eyes of hundreds of people sounded almost ethereal, disembodied.

Kagome could vaguely remember watching a brief clip of this acceptance speech on the plane ride home, but now she was there, sitting somewhere in the crowd, unable to see any faces in the glittering haze around her.

“This is bullshit!” Kagome stood up, pointing at the figure onstage, but no one around her seemed to take notice, “You’re using him! You’re going to hurt him again!”

“Kagome, please,” a voice said in a low whisper, and Kagome felt a light touch to her elbow from behind, “I’ll handle this.”

She turned, fearfully, to try and look into his eyes and read his expression, but his face was clouded in shadow. “Inu...yasha?”

He bent to kiss her, and she all but melted into his arms. When they parted, he did that all-too-familiar gesture of tucking a stray curl behind her ear. His palm felt wonderfully warm and light on her cheek, as if he weren’t flesh and blood, but an angel, a spirit of love and mercy.

“I missed you,” Kagome whispered, “I missed you so much.” She curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, leaning up for another kiss.

His hand moved to cover her lips, and she stopped short as he leaned in over her ear. 

“You shouldn’t have left, then,” he said, “Just when I was starting to enjoy your company, you left me to the she-wolf. And now I have no choice.”

Kagome’s heart sank. “I had to leave, Inuyasha. To give you the chance to decide!”

“Were you prepared for an answer you didn’t like?” His voice was like a hiss.

She felt her throat go dry and couldn’t find an answer.

He released her from his grip so suddenly that she staggered to get her bearings again, and half-walked, half-glided up the stage toward the figure in black, who was holding out two hazy arms to welcome him.

“You see, Kagome?” Kikyou’s voice sounded from all around her, “All he needed was a little push in the right direction. I have you to thank for that. Enjoy your life in Europe, sweetie. You’re not ever allowed back.”

Two pairs of strong arms seized Kagome by the shoulders and pulled her into the darkness. Kagome screamed and kicked, but Inuyasha didn’t seem to hear her, didn’t even look up from Kikyou’s embrace…

“Inuyasha, please! Don’t do this! We can figure this out!”

The scene started to fade to grey as the arms kept dragging Kagome bodily backward.

“Inuyasha! Wait! I didn’t leave you alone forever! I left so I could come back fighting! I’m ready to fight for our happy ending, remember?”

She wasn’t sure, in the growing darkness, but it certainly looked like Inuyasha’s blurry form looked up from Kikyou’s embrace…

“Man, fuck this shit,” was Inuyasha’s reply, his voice distinctly louder and more gravelly than before.

Kagome squinted to try and look at him, confused. “Huh?”

It definitely was Inuyasha speaking, she could see that now. But what he was saying made no sense.

“Who the hell put this shit here?” he said, his arms still around Kikyou even as he glared at Kagome.

Wait a minute…

Kagome blinked her eyes open to stare at the pitch-black ceiling. There was a rustling sound at the far end of the room, near the bathroom door. She fumbled to switch on the bedside lamp, and winced at the sudden glare, letting her eyes refocus.

“...Inuyasha?”

He was standing there, hopping on one leg, his foot entangled in the strap of one of her duffel bags, and at the sound of her voice, he stopped short, turned to face her, and promptly fell over in an unceremonious heap.

 


 

“OW! God dammit! ” sounded from the other room.

Miroku held up a finger. “Ah, there we go.” He smirked, clinked glasses with Sango, and proceeded to gather her in his arms. He didn’t plan to let her go for the rest of the evening.

Chapter 50: Score One For The Hollywood Heartthrob

Summary:

In which Inuyasha bumps his head, Kagome has new ink to show off, and Sango and Miroku alternate between acts of love and acts of planning.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty

Score One For The Hollywood Heartthrob

 

Inuyasha opened his eyes. He was laying on the floor, his head propped up against the wall, his limbs every which direction. He was covered in something heavy (Kagome’s travel bags, no doubt), and a curtain of white blocked his entire view of the dimly lit room.

“Oh my god!” He heard that beautiful voice squeak in surprise, footsteps bounding toward him…

Two hands, the nails covered with black polish, parted his hair in front of him and put it back where it belonged. He blinked and looked up as one of said hands immediately went to the back of his head and helped to lift him into a sitting position.

“Jesus, Inuyasha, are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you! Whoa!” She slipped and braced herself on the floor with her free hand, tugging at his hair with her other. He winced, and she immediately exclaimed, “Shit, sorry!”

Her hair was down, spiraling around her shoulders. She was dressed in a very short tank top and boxer shorts, and her face was scrubbed clean and flushed with surprise. And oh, she smelled like heaven itself.

Inuyasha opened his mouth to speak, and found himself feeling like a lovestruck middle schooler who couldn’t bring himself to say a word to his dream girl.

And she certainly was his dream girl.

I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful than you are right now, he thought but didn’t say. He swallowed, shoving himself upright, and by virtue of doing so pulled her even closer to him, as her hand was still tangled in his hair.

“Did you hit your head?” she said, prodding at the back of his skull for bruises, her eyes wide with concern.

“Yes,” was the first word he was able to say to her after two weeks without her. Talk about sweeping a girl off her feet, idiot.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” She held up three fingers.

“Kagome,” he grunted, “I’m fine. Quit making a fuss.”

“Hey!” She snapped her fingers, though he could see the hint of a smile playing at the corner of those perfect lips. “Focus here. How many?”

“Twelve,” he deadpanned.

“Good, you’re fine.” And there the smile was. That glimmer of white teeth, those shining eyes, that adorable dimple. She stood up and held out her hand to help him up. He took it and grunted as she pulled him to his feet.

Looking at her, he was immediately a little dizzy, a little unsteady, but he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the bump on his head he’d so gracefully sustained just now.

“You’re back,” he said softly. Well done there, Captain Obvious. Whatever happened to being irresistible and charming? You’ve been thinking about this reunion with her...well...since she left in the first place. All those plans you’ve made to take her in your arms and tell her what you’ve wanted to tell her for months, and the moment comes and you can’t even speak like you have more than a fourth-grade education.

“I am,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her and letting them hang awkwardly.

“You look…” Amazing. Fantastic. Gorgeous. Wonderful. Perfect. “...good. You look good.”

“Thank you,” she said, still looking unsure of what to do with her hands, “So do you. Well, for a guy who just wiped out onto the floor, anyway.”

“I didn’t think you’d be back this soon,” he said, honestly.

She shrugged, then did a muted version of jazz hands. “Surprise! Well, I was going to surprise you tomorrow at your place, but I guess you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men. Oh well. Here I am!”

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said quietly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, “I didn’t know if you’d want to...you know, after all that happened.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at his shoes.

“I mean, I still have a contract to fulfill, Inuyasha,” Kagome said, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow, “I had to be back by a certain point.”

Inuyasha looked up at her, knowing his expression was likely that of a sullen child. “Is that the only reason you’re back?”

Kagome put her hands on her hips and gave him what almost looked like a withering scowl. “You’re an idiot if you think that’s true,” she said, and he opened his mouth to reply but she stopped him. “Wait, wait, wait, before we have any further discussion on that front, I have one thing to ask you.”

He looked down at her mutely, pretty sure what it was.

“What’s the situation with you and Kikyou?”

Inuyasha felt his entire body relax, and he let himself grin at her. “Amazing,” he said.

Kagome looked a little crestfallen. “O-Oh,” she said, seeming to back up a few steps as she folded her arms back around herself, “Well, that’s good. Good for you guys. I mean, I did see a little of her acceptance speech last night, and I was just wondering...well...okay.” She took a deep breath, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Oh, dammit, wait a second,” he said, still grinning, as he took her hand, “That came out weird. What I meant was, the situation is amazing because it’s completely over and done with. I told her off. Told her I wasn’t signing that goddamn contract because it wasn’t a good enough deal. She got mad as hell and stormed off. In the pouring rain, no less. It was a great scene. You shoulda seen it.”

Kagome’s guarded expression vanished, and she started to laugh, playfully headbutting him in the shoulder. “You asshole,” she said through a flurry of giggles, “You almost had me there.”

Inuyasha found himself laughing too. “Oh please,” he said, taking her other hand and starting to pull her closer, “Like you didn’t know exactly what would happen the second I had the fear of losing you forever put into my head. Like you didn’t know I’d miss you so much my head would start spinning. Like you didn’t know Kikyou would immediately try to take advantage and start acting like a bitch and I’d come to my senses.”

There. Those were the sort of smooth lines Inuyasha had been rehearsing in his head for ages. And from the easy way Kagome let herself fold into his arms, they were working. Score one for the Hollywood heartthrob, he thought with a dopey smile as her hair brushed his chin .

“Well,” she said, still laughing softly, “I had my suspicions that that would happen, but…” She trailed off, leaning her head back to look up at him, that wonderful grin taking over her entire face.

Inuyasha smirked, then took the sides of her face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her, grunting in surprise when she leaped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“You know,” he murmured into her mouth, trying to keep from sighing happily as she encircled his neck with her arms, “You’re lucky you’re tiny as fuck. Any other woman would have broken my spine right there.”

She pulled away slightly, balancing herself in midair. Her blue eyes were clouded and dazed, but she smirked. “Shut the hell up, jerkface, and keep up with the kissing here.”

 


 

“You think everything’s okay in there?” Sango said from her position nestled in the crook of Miroku’s arm. 

They were laying in his bed, clothes scattered randomly about the room. How did my bra end up on the lampshade, she wondered mildly, then shrugged to herself and looked up at Miroku for an answer to her question.

“I think everything’s just fine,” Miroku said, a zenlike smile on his lips, his eyes on the TV. They were enjoying their afterglow with a little late-night (or early-morning, Sango supposed) Jerry Springer. “Long time coming, frankly.”

Sango sighed happily and snuggled back onto his chest, and he closed his hand over her waist and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

“Good for them,” she said, and meant it, “But we still do have to talk about how we’re handling the Globes, and how we’re putting a leash on Kikyou for the foreseeable future. If we don’t, she’s liable to burn the whole operation down just so she can see Inuyasha and Kagome covered in the ashes.”

“You’re right,” Miroku said, “but I’ve already got a plan for the Globes. And once Oscar noms are announced that same night, what can Kikyou really do until the voting period closes?”

“Fair enough,” Sango said, though she didn’t feel as sure as she sounded, “What’s your plan for the Globes?”

“Charity cases.”

Sango raised her head up, balancing her chin on Miroku’s chest. “Come again?”

“Ouch, woman, you have a pointy-ass chin.” Miroku grimaced.

Sango’s eyes narrowed and she dug her chin in further with a smirk. “What do you mean by charity cases?”

“Wounded vets, child cancer patients, whoever we want. Grab a few from the charities the studio sponsors and have them be the dates for our three main players. Make a big thing out of it. It will distract from the fact that Inuyasha and Kikyou are suddenly arriving to a huge red carpet event separately. And we can do our best to keep them apart the whole time so the press doesn’t smell a rat.”

“That includes Kagome, I’m guessing?” Sango looked away thoughtfully.

“She’s one of the main players, isn’t she? As happy as I am that she and Inuyasha have finally wisened up, the last thing we need on the final day of Oscar nom voting is a scandal or any sort of perceived drama. Now can you get your damn chin out of my collarbone?” His tone was annoyed, but his face wasn’t.

“Hmmm,” Sango said, finally relenting and turning her head to the side again, fighting back a chuckle.

“Know any sad, ill kids in need of a red carpet trip to cheer them up?” She heard the flick of a lighter above her as Miroku lit a cigarette, took a drag, then handed it down to her.

Sango felt a tightening in her chest, and she hesitated before shaking her head, returning the smoke to his hand, and pulling herself tighter into his arms.

“Yeah, me neither,” Miroku said. “Tell you what, why don’t you and Kagome go dress-shopping tomorrow and I’ll figure out the rest?”

Sango nodded silently.

“You are buying a new dress this time, are you not?” She heard the slightly suspicious tone in his voice.

She nodded again.

“Am I allowed to finally ask why you haven’t been trying out any new looks on the red carpet lately?”

“Please don’t,” she said, feeling a treacherous lump start to form in her throat. How could she tell him she hadn’t bought any new dresses because her bank account was just now starting to return to normal? That would lead to a whole other round of questions as to where the money went. And frankly, Sango was ashamed of where it went.

She looked up at Miroku, who looked a little annoyed with her again. Dammit. Every time I think we’re getting better, this shit comes back up.

But then he sighed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes and searching them carefully. “Sango, babe,” he said softly, cupping her cheek with his hand, “If you’re in some kind of trouble, you can tell me. I can help.”

All Sango could do was give him a weak smile and try to will the tears not to well up. "Not with this, you can’t,” she said quietly, her voice trembling a little, “Please believe me and trust me on this. I’m okay. I can take care of it on my own.”

At the sight of her watering eyes, he sat up, ashed his cigarette in the ashtray, and pulled her upwards into his lap, kissing her softly, chastely. “Sango,” he whispered, his brow knit together in concern, “What can I do?”

She paused for a moment, feeling her heart pounding in her chest, and threw her arms around his neck, planting her own kiss on his cheek and laying her head in the crook of his shoulder. “Love me,” she half-murmured, half-choked into his ear, “Just love me tonight.”

Miroku’s arms hung at his sides, then slid up her hips before wrapping themselves around her so tightly she almost gasped. “Love you?” he said, looking down at her, his eyes more emotional than she’d ever seen them before, “I think I can do that.”

 


 

“So this hair streak,” Inuyasha ran it through his fingers and squinted at it in the yellow lamplight, “What color is it? I can’t tell.”

Kagome giggled from beneath him, still a little out of breath from their strenuous activities just moments ago. “It’s purple. One of the bartenders did it for me.”

“I like it,” he said, “I think. I mean, you’ll have to let me see it when it’s light outside.”

“Give it, what, another hour, at most?” Kagome grinned, “You certainly picked the weirdest time to come over and bug Miroku, didn’t you?”

“Hey,” Inuyasha grumbled, rolling off of her and onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So neither should anyone else, right?” She tweaked his nose before leaning up to plant a smiling kiss on his cheek, “Such a Hollywood diva you are.”

He chuckled. “So help me, I missed that smart mouth of yours.”

“You didn’t even notice the best part!” Kagome said, sitting up and holding out her forearm.

“You got a tattoo,” Inuyasha said, a little dazed, “Any weird piercings I should know about, while we’re at it?”

“I think you would have noticed those just now, right?” Kagome smirked, “Read what it says!”

Inuyasha squinted again. “Uh, I can’t.”

“I know you can’t. It’s in Dutch.” She stuck her tongue out at him and he rolled his eyes.

“So tell me what it says, you impossible woman.”

“Beter laat dan nooit, ” Kagome said, unable to help the cheese-eating grin as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, “It means, ‘Better late than never.’”

She watched his eyes dawn with the realization of the full meaning, and the smile he gave her was enough to make her want to cry tears of joy.

He leaned down to kiss her in reply, but before he did, he brushed that lock of hair out of her eyes and stared her full in the face.

“I love you,” he whispered, and then their lips met again.

Chapter 51: A Nip Of Johnnie Walker Blue

Summary:

In which everyone has breakfast and gets presents, Warner is still a creep, and Sango gets an alarming text.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty-One

A Nip Of Johnnie Walker Blue

 

“Morning, sunshine,” Miroku said, waggling his eyebrows at Kagome as she yawned and stumbled into the kitchen, her hair an even wilder mess than it had been last night. But then again, Miroku knew the reason for that , now didn’t he? “Sleep well?”

She sent him a pointed glare as she took her turn at the coffeemaker, though she seemed to be trying not to smile. “Just fine,” she said, her voice still a little muted from sleep, “No thanks to you sending a certain stumbling idiot my way when I was right in the middle of some much-needed slumber.”

“Hey,” Miroku threw up the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his coffee mug, “In my defense, he was driving me crazy . I had to get rid of him somehow . So thanks for that, darlin, I owe you one. Though I can’t see it inconvenienced you too badly.”

Kagome rolled her eyes and groaned as she stretched her arms skyward with another long yawn. “Shut up, Miroku.”

“Here,” he said, “I ordered breakfast.” He opened a brown paper delivery bag and took out a croissant, then tossed it to her. She caught it one-handed, giving him a silent salute of thanks, and took a seat in the breakfast nook, still clearly trying to wake herself up as she sipped her coffee.

Miroku sat across from her, scrolling through his phone. “Did Inuyasha happen to tell you what Kikyou did when he ever-so-elegantly rejected her?”

Kagome looked up, her mouth full of croissant. “He said she stormed off in the rain. That it was epic .” A small satisfied smile crept onto her face, one she looked a little ashamed of despite herself. Same old Kagome. A purple streak in the hair and a tattoo on the arm, but a big softy underneath it all.

“Well, that happened,” Miroku said, his voice growing a little quieter and more solemn, “But that ain’t all. Sango went by your old house last night after the awards and found your sister, shall we say, rearranging all the stuff in your room. Your books and records and movies. Your posters. Whatever else.”

Kagome’s smile faded, and the look on her face was pure hurt. She turned in her chair to gaze out the window. “She’s out for blood, huh?” The tone of her voice said she was not surprised, but rather just resigned and disappointed.

“Sango had to stop her from unfollowing both of you on Instagram last night. That would have been interesting headlines to wake up to this morning. So far, all I found is a little Buzzfeed blurb, but who gives a shit about Buzzfeed anyways. Sango already issued a statement that Kikyou’s phone was hacked, so it shouldn’t be much of an issue as long as we don’t draw attention to it.”

Kagome’s hands went to her temples and she sighed. “Did you have to tell me all of this when I’m still on my first cup of coffee?” she joked, smiling weakly.

“Just thought I’d let you know what you’re walking back into, kid.” Miroku took a bite of a danish pastry.

“Thanks,” she said, turning back around in her seat and returning to her coffee, “It’s just stuff , right? I can always get more stuff.”

Miroku knew how long that collection of ‘stuff’ had taken Kagome to collect over the years, and his heart ached for her.

“I haven’t told Inuyasha about it,” he said softly, “I left that up to you.”

“Don’t bother. Like I said, it’s just stuff. I don’t need him getting all up in arms over it. I’d rather just take the loss and move on.” Kagome 

The guest bedroom door opened again, and out stepped Inuyasha, still struggling with the buttons of his flannel shirt and looking just as tired as everyone else in the room.

“Morning, Walk-of-Shame,” Miroku said, “We’ve got coffee and breakfast here.”

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes at the new nickname, but his expression softened as he put his hands on Kagome’s shoulders from behind and leaned down to plant a kiss on her cheek. She blushed a pretty pink and gave a small smile, reaching up to tweak his ear once before returning her attention to her coffee.

“You okay?” Inuyasha immediately noted Kagome’s muted state and glanced from her to Miroku suspiciously, as if to ask what Miroku had done to her. So very suspicious of little old me. When have I ever done anything shady like that?

“I’m fine,” Kagome said, taking a deep breath and seeming to shake herself out of it, turning to Inuyasha with that trademark Kagome grin. “You look a hot mess, jerkface. Your buttons are done up wrong.” She pulled him to her by the lapels of the shirt and started to fix it for him. 

He shrugged, smiling down at her as he bent awkwardly to help her reach. “Hey, give me a break,” he grumbled playfully, “I’m tired.”

You’re tired?” Kagome snarked, “Try getting off an international flight and having everyone in the world determined to fuck up your peaceful sleep schedule.”

“I refuse to apologize,” Inuyasha said.

“There, you’re all set,” Kagome said, fixing the last askew button before dragging him down a little further for a kiss.

“I guess you two are all squared away, then,” Miroku said dryly into his half-empty mug, “Congratulations, you crazy kids. I wish you all the luck in the world. By the way, if your firstborn is a boy, Miroku would be a hell of a good name. Just saying.”

Kagome choked on her gulp of coffee, her face turning dark pink. Inuyasha tried to give Miroku a stern look, but seemed to be a little dazed at the mention of children.

“Wait,” Inuyasha said, snapping out of it and looking at Miroku questioningly, “Where’s--”

“Morning, all,” Sango said, striding into the room, still wearing her clothes from the night before and trying to be coy about it. Poor thing. Nothing to be embarrassed over, babe. We’re all adults here, aren’t we?

“Sango!” Kagome said brightly, standing up to give Sango a hug, “Good to see you!”

Sango looked surprised at the enthusiasm, but the surprise gave in to a warm smile of gratitude as she returned the hug. “Likewise,” Sango said softly, “We missed your face around here!”

“It was awfully quiet, wasn’t it?” Inuyasha said from the coffeemaker.

Kagome turned with a smirk and pegged a cloth napkin at the back of his head, then turned back to Sango. “I really can’t thank you enough for letting me go,” she said, her two hands holding one of Sango’s, “It was definitely what the doctor ordered. And now I’m back, and you won’t hear another peep out of me for the rest of awards season, I promise.”

Sango smiled, sending a glance Miroku’s way. He winked at her and she blushed.

Suddenly Kagome was gasping with realization. “Oh wait!” she exclaimed, “You’re all here at once. I brought you all presents from Amsterdam! Hold on, I’ll get them.”

She scrambled off to the guest room, and there was a sound of her rifling through bags. Sango just chuckled to herself as she took the mug of coffee Inuyasha offered her when he reappeared from the kitchen.

Miroku motioned her into the chair next to him, giving her a peck on the cheek that made her blush again.

It was Inuyasha’s turn to give the knowing look and the raised eyebrow. “You’re one to talk, Miroku,” he said slyly, “You gonna name your firstborn after one of us?

“Definitely not after you , Takahashi,” Miroku said smoothly, as Sango looked like she wanted to slide under the tablecloth, “Wouldn’t want the kid to be an idiot. That name is cursed, I tell you.”

They exchanged a smile as Kagome reappeared with several bags of gifts. Inuyasha sprang to help her before they fell and scattered all over the room.

“Are these all for the three of us?” Sango said, obviously shocked.

“Mostly. Yeah, yeah, okay, I got a little carried away,” Kagome said, waving her off, “but I kept picking stuff out, and then I’d see something else that would have worked too, so I just got it all!”

“Responsible spending habits,” Miroku said.

“You can shut your mouth,” Kagome said grumpily, “I was on vacation . You’re supposed to be a reckless idiot on vacation. Anyways, here we go.”

She fumbled in the first bag and took out a pair of designer shoes, then peered into the rest of the bag. “Yep, this one is Sango’s,” she said matter-of-factly, handing it to Inuyasha to pass down the table, “Unless you want the Louboutins, Miroku. They’d look great on you.”

“Hey,” Miroku said, smirking, “Careful what you wish for, smartass.”

“Thank you, Kagome,” Sango said, looking in the bag and genuinely seeming ready to cry, “Really. We don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, stop it,” Kagome said, waving her off again, her face set in concentration as she searched the next bag and pulled out a black tee shirt, “This one’ll be yours, jerkface.” 

“A Clutch shirt? Oh, you wonderful woman.” Inuyasha held it up, grinned, and immediately started taking off the button-up that had given him so much trouble that morning. “This is great!”

“I also got you an autographed copy of their latest album,” Kagome said, “It’s in here somewhere.”

Inuyasha, looking lovestruck and dazed, paused to plant a kiss on her mouth before getting the last of the flannel shirt off.

“Oh, for the love of - “ Miroku grumbled, “Eat a carb once in a while! You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

“He does eat carbs,” Kagome said, her eyes looking a little dreamy, “He eats whatever he wants. Doesn’t it just make you sick?”

Sango laughed as she kept perusing her bag of gifts. Miroku squeezed her knee under the table.

“And here’s Miroku’s,” Kagome stood up and walked the bag over to him. He reached out to take it and she put a small hand over his. “I just want you to know,” she said, the beginnings of tears in her eyes, “I couldn’t have made it through the last few months without you. I really mean that.”

“Oh stop it, you’re gonna make me blush.” Miroku seized Kagome around the shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. “Love you, you dork.”

“Love you too,” Kagome said with a smile.

“What is this? ” Inuyasha smirked, the black tee shirt now over his head and covering those absolutely ridiculous abs, “Miroku, you trying to steal my girl? You’ve got your own right here! Sango, guess we’ll have to run away together.”

“As long as I don’t have to sign a pre-nup,” Sango deadpanned as she tried on her new shoes, “I want alimony for the rest of my life.”

Kagome’s face flushed fifty shades of red at being called Inuyasha’s girl, and Miroku winked and reached up to ruffle her messy hair.

“Whaddaya think?” Inuyasha held his arms out and spun around once to show off the shirt he was so obviously proud of, “How’s it look?”

Kagome walked three steps up to him and almost tackled him to the ground with another kiss.

“Since everyone’s doing it,” Miroku said with a shrug, pulling Sango’s chair closer and catching her as she wobbled into him, almost dropping her brand new expensive shoes onto the floor. 

 


 

“Sorry about all this,” Sango said to Kagome in the car as they pulled into the studio lot, “You have to check in with Warner so he feels like he’s still in the loop. If the man feels his ironclad control slipping, he pitches a fit and I have to hear about it. I promise this won’t take long.”

“It’s okay,” Kagome said, stretching her arms out in front of her in an attempt to crack her back. She really didn’t feel awake yet, but it was well into the morning hours, so she knew she should probably just suck it up and deal with the time zone adjustment. “I really don’t mind. You jumped through a lot of hoops to help me, so this is the least I can do.”

They took the elevator up to Warner’s office.

“Sango, sweetheart, you look ravishing today!” Warner stood up from his desk and motioned them inside. “And here’s our little Kagome, the prodigal sister returning! How was your trip to Amsterdam?”

“Wonderful, thank you,” Kagome said with the necessary courtesy, taking a seat in the chair she was beckoned into.

“I was following all your coverage on Instagram closely,” Warner said, “You really do have an amazing eye.”

“Thanks,” she said again, as a secretary walked into the room.

“Can I get you both anything to drink? Sango, a water as usual, I’m sure?” He smirked at Sango, who was helping herself into the chair on Kagome’s left.

“Thank you, yes,” Sango said quietly.

Warner chuckled, nodding. “I can never get this girl to accept anything a little stronger. She’s a tough nut to crack, isn’t she?” He turned his gaze back to Kagome expectantly. “What about you, Kagome dear, will you have a little nip of vodka soda? Or beer? I understand that’s your preference, correct?” 

“Nothing for me, thank you.”

Warner’s smile slipped a little. Kagome felt very self-conscious all of a sudden. Was that a mistake? Should I have just taken something when he offered?

She glanced sideways at Sango, who could only give her a slight reassuring nod, so brief that Kagome was sure only she had caught it. Sango was good. She was a lot of other things, but she was good at this game.

“So, Kagome,” Warner took a seat behind his desk, folding his hands on the tabletop. “You realize what a favor I did you, letting you go off in the middle of awards season to fulfill your prior engagement? Just when the press was starting to fall in love with you and your...quirky personality.” 

The smile he gave her was not warm nor comforting, but Kagome acted as if it were. “I do realize,” she said, “and I’m very grateful. I’ve already booked three future shoots from my work in Amsterdam alone.” Should I have told him that? 

Warner hesitated, then smiled even wider. “Good for you,” he said, holding his glass of whatever-the-hell-it-was up in a brief toast, then taking a sip. 

He turned to Sango conspiratorially. “I love this,” he said, as if Kagome wasn’t in the room, “She’s such a self-driven girl, isn’t she? A breath of fresh air. Does nothing but make Kikyou look good. A big sister who’s encouraged her baby sister to follow her dreams and be herself. It’s brilliant.

Sango could only nod weakly, as Kagome fought the urge to stand up for herself but squashed it down.

Warner continued. “I hope these bookings aren’t within the remainder of the Oscar season?” He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

What, do you think I’m an idiot? Of course they aren’t. Kagome swallowed and said, “No, they’re scheduled for well afterward. Don’t worry.”

“Perfect,” Warner said, “That means my plans for you can go unspoiled.”

Why do I feel like the girl in King Kong, strapped to a sacrificial altar?  

“Nothing crazy,” Warner said reassuringly, “I just want to utilize your skills as a photographer. You’ll be paid on top of what your contract guarantees, dear.”

“Okay…?” Kagome said, feeling very confused. She glanced again at Sango, who looked as bewildered as she did. Normally she wouldn’t have put much stock into how innocent or not Sango was acting, seeing as the girl had proven herself to be able to put on the right face at the right time, but still

“Before the Golden Globes,” Warner said, clearly excited to relay his plan, “You’re going to twenty different stars’ houses and taking intimate, personal portraits in their dressing rooms. On their own turf, getting ready for a big Hollywood night out. All the glamour, but in a close-up, friendlike way. Give the public a window into the life of a superstar. 

“It’ll be a long, hard day for you, I’m sure, but well worth it. A big amount of publicity for the Globes, and for a big chunk of Sunrise’s loyal contractees. They’ll run in Entertainment Weekly...”

“...with my name attached,” Kagome finished for him.

Warner blinked. “Well, of course with your name attached! Make me proud, Kagome, and I’ll offer you an even better contract at the end of this one. More money than you’ve ever dreamed of, just to take photos when I need you.”

“And then I’m still going to the Globes? After all that?”

Warner laughed. “What kind of question is that? Of course you’re going to the Globes! In fact, I was going to suggest that you be Miss Golden Globe this year and help hand out all the trophies, but I guess Spielberg already butted in and it’s going to be one of his nieces. Early bird with the worm, unfortunately.”

Kagome felt a little faint. But Sango seemed to have her back.

“Sir,” Sango cut in, “We already arranged for her to do the pre-Oscars candids of Inuyasha and Kikyou, right? Don’t you think this on top of it--”

“No,” Warner said shortly, “I don’t think it’s too much. That’s what you were going to say, right? And what’s the problem? If anything, I’m giving her the career opportunity of a lifetime, right?”

“And if I decline?” Kagome said, and Warner’s face darkened noticeably, “Respectfully, of course. I’m just not sure this is the way I want to go with my career. I’m a concert photographer at my core. Surely you understand, Mr. Warner.”

“I really don’t,” Warner said, and all trace of humor was gone from his face, “Your sister and her beau are about to be at the top of the heap forever. Emblazoned in Hollywood history. Potentially dual Oscar winners. Don’t you want to be a part of that? Witnessing it all and letting the public see through your talented eyes what a great, grand, romantic story this all is? Inuyasha and Kikyou, separated through the pressures of stardom and reunited with a wonderful flourish at the end of it all? Hell, you could sell a coffee table book with shots of just the two of them and make enough money to retire in your thirties.”

“I’d like to think my life revolves around more than just my sister and whatever romance she has happening in her life at any given moment.” Kagome was fighting to keep it tactful, to not let it spill that Inuyasha belonged to her now, god dammit, and fuck anyone trying to keep them apart.

Sango interjected. “You’re exactly, right, Kagome.”

Warner’s glare moved instantly from Kagome to Sango, who clearly tried not to shrink back. But Sango, as previously observed, was good. And her reaction time was quick.

“Mr. Warner,” said Sango, putting on her sweetest smile, “Is it too late to take you up on your offer for a little nip of a drink in the afternoon? Or will you judge a girl for asking for alcohol a little too early in the day?” She batted her eyes coquettishly.

Warner immediately was a shark, and he smelled the chum in the water. Kagome almost felt the need to speak up, but Sango surreptitiously laid a hand atop hers, telling her not to.

“Of course,” he said, smiling widely and showing pearly white teeth, “I thought you’d come around eventually.” He pressed a button and his secretary returned into the room. “Does a small helping of Johnnie Walker Blue sound alright with you?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Sango said, flashing a look to Kagome while keeping her flirtatious smile.

“Kagome, how about you, sweetheart? Maybe a little water mixed in to make it a little more... palatable? Since you’re used to beer, I mean.”

Call me sweetheart one more time and you’ll be used to my foot up your fat ass. “Uh,” Kagome said, “I’m okay.”

“Kagome,” Sango said, the look growing a little more meaningful, “Are you sure?”

Kagome got the message. “Oh, alright,” she relented, wondering where Sango was going with this. 

The secretary promptly returned in about sixty seconds with three drinks on a silver tray, one of which was notably watered down. “That one’s yours, Kagome dear,” Warner pointed out helpfully, as if she didn’t already know as the secretary placed it in her hand.

“Mr. Warner,” Sango said, swirling her drink around nonchalantly as she crossed her legs slowly and pointedly, “I think you have the right idea. But why twenty stars? Why waste valuable time and effort on stars who aren’t even nominated this year? Or those who give you maybe a film once every five years, like Daniel Day-Lewis?”

“Because I said so,” Warner said bluntly.

“Yes, but, and just hear me out,” Sango leaned forward conspiratorially, “Why not just a handful of your future stars? Your up-and-comers? The ones who’ll be conquering the box office and awards within the next five years? Give them a little nudge out the gate, so to speak.”

Warner looked unconvinced. Sango went on.

“Plus,” she said, lowering her lashes as she took a small sip of her drink, “It’ll set a fire under the rest of your contractees, won’t it? Get them all a little worried about their place in the food chain, get them whispering, get them clamoring for a little of your attention…” She trailed off, ending with a mysterious smirk.

Warner’s eyes lit up. Kagome just sat there, drink untouched in her hand, a little stunned into silence at what Sango had just been able to do.

“Limit the slots to, say, three stars. Three of the new kids on the block that you want pushed hardcore in the next year or so. A full portrait set of each, candids, posed shots, everything. Let Kagome get to know them and work her magic. Her own personal touch that we’ve admired so greatly. And then a full article accompanying each. Tease some of your new projects, even the ones that haven’t been financed yet. Whet the public appetite. You know nothing gets funding like good old audience interest.”

Warner stroked his chin, but he was obviously liking the idea. His gaze fell on Kagome, still sitting motionless. “Oh, Kagome, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he said, smiling that sharklike smile again, “We must be boring you with all this shop talk.”

“It’s okay,” Kagome said with a benign smile, leaning back in her chair and flitting her eyes to Sango’s briefly, “I don’t understand any of it.”

“Two conditions,” Warner said, snapping his head back toward Sango’s direction, “I want a special profile on Ayame. We’re putting her in three pictures next year, and I need the world to buy her as an actress. This will solve that little pickle.”

Kagome fought the urge to look flabbergasted. Wasn’t Ayame a Victoria’s Secret model? And Warner was just throwing her in movies when he wasn’t even sure she could act? Man, this business has changed in the last ten years, she thought. But she kept still and quiet in her chair as Sango nodded.

“The second thing,” Warner said, leaning forward to hold out his glass to clink it with Sango’s as he looked her up and down lasciviously, “is that you get the honor of calling everyone’s people and telling them that plans have changed and their clients won’t be needed the morning of the Globes after all.”

Sango looked unbothered by this as she smiled and gave a tiny shrug. “It won’t be a problem, sir.” She glanced over her shoulder at Kagome. 

“Kagome,” she said, still holding her glass up to Warner’s, “You in?”

Kagome took it as her cue to sit forward and join them in saluting the moment. “I’m in.”

 


 

“Ugh,” Kagome said once they were back in the car and headed to pick out Globes dresses, “I feel like I need a shower now. Is he always that slimy?”

“Usually he’s worse,” Sango said, lowering her sun mirror, “Keeps trying to schedule late-night dinner meetings with me and the like. Fucking pig. Of course he’d have Johnnie Walker Blue on hand. The most expensive, overrated trash, but because it’s the famous name, that’s what he wants.” Her lip curled in distaste.

Kagome leaned back in her seat. “So you want to tell me what your whole game was in there? I mean, I got some of it and I figured it would be best to just play along, but-”

“Basically, I got you three editorials instead of a bunch of half-assed glamour shots. Not only will this free you up from a grueling, demeaning, annoying shoot day, it’ll take at least some of the focus and scrutiny off Inuyasha and Kikyou. Keep the heat off for a bit and keep vultures like Yura from digging around and asking questions.” At least until the Oscar noms are announced, anyway.

Kagome seemed to take all this in, and looked sideways at Sango with what seemed like genuine admiration. “You really are as good as Miroku says you are,” she said with a small smile.

Sango fought the urge to blush as they pulled into the parking garage of a high-end boutique.

 


 

“Definitely that one,” Kagome said, nodding at Sango, who was standing in the three-way-mirror looking herself over. The dress was a beautiful Givenchy number, black and gold with a beaded skirt all the way to the floor. Ornate and gorgeous and sexy. Perfectly Sango.

“It’s damn heavy,” Sango said, but the way she grinned at herself in the mirror told Kagome that she agreed. “You sure about yours?”

“Yep,” Kagome said, looking down at the dark purple gown she’d picked out. It had been only the second thing she’d tried on, but then, she never was much for browsing, and besides, the dress had pockets. She’d have pockets at the Golden Globes for once. It was worth the price tag. 

“It looks good on you,” Sango said with a grin, “And it matches your hair streak. Double win.”

They changed back out of the dresses with help from the shop attendants, charged an obscene amount onto their respective credit cards (Sango noticeably wincing a little), and headed out of the store empty-handed. They’d receive the dresses by delivery the morning of the Globes with any necessary alterations done. 

“Where to next?” Kagome asked, pulling her sunglasses out of her backpack and putting them on as they stepped out of the shop. “Lunch, maybe? I’m starving. And now that we’ve tried on dresses we can eat until we’re...Sango?”

Sango stood in the doorway of the shop, staring at her phone, looking absolutely livid. Both the hand that held her upright in the doorframe and the hand holding her phone were shaking violently. “That - that fucking…” She trailed off, clearly unable to even finish the thought.

“What’s wrong?” Kagome ran to her. Sango didn’t look up, just stood rigid, even as Kagome’s arm slipped around her shoulders.

Kagome glanced around Sango’s arm at the text. All she could see was the sender - ‘Mom.’ The text was quite long, so Kagome couldn’t make it out too well.

“I have to go,” Sango said, pushing away from Kagome and rushing to the car, “Can you call a cab home? I’m really sorry. I just…” She went to open the driver’s side door and seemed to lose all strength in her legs, clinging to the handle for support.

“Sango!” Kagome rushed forward and caught her under the arms, “What’s going on? What was in that text? Talk to me.”

“I can’t,” Sango ground out, “I have to go.”

“You’re in no condition to drive right now. Get in the front seat; I’ll get you where you need to go.” Kagome felt herself slip into determinator mode. There was no time for speaking sweetly, not when something was clearly very, very wrong.

Sango shook her head stubbornly even as she gripped Kagome’s arms for support. She looked both furious and terrified all at once. “You don’t need to be part of this,” she whispered, her voice a weak croak.

“Do I need to punch your ass out again?” Kagome growled, pulling her upright, “Get in the front seat and tell me the address.”

So Sango did.

Chapter 52: An Adequate Punishment

Summary:

In which Sango's traumatic past comes back to haunt her, Kagome's feisty temper might actually get her into real trouble this time, and Miroku breaks a car's headlight.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty-Two

An Adequate Punishment

 

“We’re here,” Kagome said softly from the driver’s seat, sounding both hesitant and stern as she closed the GPS on her phone. “Do you want to tell me what this is all about now, or should I just walk in there blind and keep my mouth shut?”

Sango looked up from her hunched position. She’d spent the majority of the drive to her mother’s house with her head buried in her hands, trying to will herself to calm down and think. But the fear kept coming back. And the anger. And the uncertainty. 

“Just stay here in the car,” Sango said softly, as she mentally gathered herself to get out and think up her next move.

“Not happening,” Kagome said simply, “I’m absolutely going with you.”

A few moments of silence.

“Please don’t tell  anyone  about this.” Sango grabbed Kagome’s hand and held it.  Especially Houshi.  Please.”

“Fine,” Kagome said, her chin set forward in determination, “But I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

Sango gave a sigh that sounded more like a cough, or a cringe. “Okay.”

 


 

“Pumpkin!”

Sango shrugged her purse off her shoulder and tried not to be too obvious about using the wall as support as she sat in the chair opposite her father, who sat in his cushy leather armchair in the center of her mother’s living room like he had no care in the world.

“Mom,” she said immediately, turning her eyes to the corner of the room, “You okay?”

“I’m fine, honey.” A small voice from the corner. Sango couldn’t quite see her in the shadows, but she didn’t seem to be incapacitated.  Small victories,  she thought.

“Who’s your friend?” Her father nodded over Sango’s left shoulder. Sango glanced. Kagome leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed, looking clearly unsure but determined.

“Her name is Kagome,” Sango said, her voice sounding steadier than she felt.

“She’s pretty.” Her dad took a moment to send a leering gaze Kagome’s way, then returned his attention to Sango. “Looks kinda like that actress, uh, whatshername. Eh, whatever. What brings you here, pumpkin? You can’t have a problem with me returning to the family after all these years, right?”

“What family?” Sango said, her legs crossed so tight it hurt. “Kohaku’s in the hospital. Mom’s here, being quiet about it all. What family are you talking about?”

“Pumpkin,” her dad said, finishing off what was clearly one of several drinks that night, “If I knew any better, I’d think you were being a little  bitchy .”

“No, dad,” Sango said, feeling herself sink back into her chair, like clockwork, like a fucking conductor was beckoning the orchestra into its place, “I’m just wondering what’s going on.”

“I’m moving back home,” her father said, a grin on his face as he held his drink aloft, “Isn’t that what you always wanted? All those sweet little letters you wrote to me when you were a kid, begging me to come home? You got what you wanted, pumpkin. After all this time, I want to be with my family.”

“W-Why now?” Sango stammered, sneaking a glance to Kagome, who was standing stark still, almost rigid against the doorframe.

“Why  not  now?” Her father sat back in his armchair, the same armchair he’d sat in in all those fleeting memories Sango had of her childhood, where she and Kohaku had been clamoring for Christmas presents or sitting on the living room floor playing board games. And her father had sat there, in his armchair. For the first ten years of it, anyhow.

“Mom?” Sango said, turning her attention to the woman sitting in the corner, “What the hell is going on?”

Her mom did the same thing she always had done. Smile. Just smile, and put a hand slightly over her face to hide the fresh bruising. “I’m okay, sweetheart. In fact, I’m happy he’s home. You should just go. Goodness knows, you must be busy right now.”

“I can’t,” was all Sango could say, her voice faltering, but she pushed through it. “He’s invading your house, he’s pushing back into our lives, and I should just  go?

“Who the fuck do you think you  are? ” Her dad stood from his chair. Sango felt Kagome move from her position against the doorway, and held up a hand to stop her from rushing forward.

“You little shit,” her father said, pushing towards her past furniture that had long seen the length of its usefulness, “I bring you into this world, I  provide  for you when you’re a child, and this is the thanks you give me?”

Sango swallowed, knowing she was shaking, but also trying to keep in mind that in the real world, she was a boss bitch. She was the bomb. She was queen bee. So why was she such a stammering idiot now?

Because at my core, I’m still the same ‘little shit,’ trying to stand up for my brother and my mom and getting smacked for it.

“I’m grateful for you helping to provide for me,” she said quietly, hesitantly, “but isn’t that what a father is  supposed  to do?”

Her dad’s expression darkened. “Excuse me?”

“I mean,” she said, feeling a little flame of courage inside her stomach as she sat up straighter, “That’s what you’re supposed to do when you have a kid. Take care of it. Provide for it. And you did that, for a few years here and there.”

“Sango, please.” Her mom looked up from the corner, clearly not wanting a fight. 

But honestly,  fuck it .

“No, Mom, stop,” Sango said, holding out a hand to assuage her, “Dad, really. What do you want? Is it more money? I’m sure that’s a stupid question, but is that what you want?”

Sango’s father smiled in a way that would have been comforting and loving if Sango didn’t know what was already behind it. “I want to be back with my kids and my wife,” he said, so close to Sango she could feel his breath on her cheek, “Why do you have such a problem with that, sweetheart? What have I ever done to you?”

“Excuse me,” Kagome said, stepping forward, “I’m gonna have to tell you to step away from her right now. If Sango wants you anywhere near her, she can say so, but otherwise, stay the fuck back.”

The look her dad gave Kagome was almost comedic. “Is this little slip of a thing your  bodyguard ?” He broke into a loud, outrageous laugh.

“I can be,” Kagome said, stepping forward, a murderous look in her eyes. 

“Kagome, stop,” Sango pled, as she watched her father’s eyes grow murderous. He stepped toward Kagome, sizing her up, a full head and a half taller than her.

“You have no business being here,” he said softly, almost seductively, to Kagome, “This is a family matter.”

“I’m here as long as  she  needs me here,” Kagome said, inclining her head toward Sango.

Kagome please don’t this will only make it worse he’ll take it out on all of us please.

“Such a cute little thing you are,” he said, “This is adorable, really. You trying to square up on me. When I’m not doing anything other than moving back home with my family.”

“Sango doesn’t want you here,” Kagome said evenly, “and that’s enough for me to tell you that you should probably leave right now.”

Her dad laughed again. “This is precious,” he said, his face contorted in a grin, but his eyes cold as ever as they connected with Sango’s. “Do you want this to get to that point, pumpkin? Your pretty little friend looks like she’s looking for a fight. I don’t want to fight. Do  you?

“Kagome,” Sango said again, unable to alleviate the trembling that had taken over her whole body, “Please.”

Kagome furrowed her brow and stepped backwards, back into the threshold, where she folded her arms and gave a stare that Sango was surprised her dad couldn’t feel boring into him.

“That’s what I thought.”

Sango watched Kagome screw her face up in fury and start forward, but she sent her a pleading look and Kagome grew still.

Sango’s dad looked on with a smirk, before sitting back down in the chair. “My, the company my little girl keeps these days. Running around with people like  this,  it’s no wonder I never came to visit more often. Not that you do much visiting yourself, these days, from what I hear.” 

Sango inwardly raged at the thought. How much she had tried to be there for her mother, and her baand the only reason she’d ever had to leave home was sitting in the leather chair in front of her. 

He turned back to Kagome as his voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “This is my house, you little bitch. My name is on the deed. So I tell people when to leave, like I’m requesting you do now.”

Kagome’s mouth opened, ready to snap out a reply when she caught Sango’s eye and seemed to reconsider. At least in the eyes of the law, she would be considered an intruder.  

“Just…just go. I’ll meet you in the car,” Sango whispered.

“You sure?” Kagome looked ready to fight, to hell and back. Sango would have loved her for it if it were any other time and place.

Sango gave a nod back in response, and Kagome gave a pointed glare to the man sitting in the armchair in the middle of the room as she backed up and let herself out of the screen door. “Please, Kagome,” Sango said as she left, “Leave it alone, okay?” As in,  don’t call anyone.  She knew Kagome knew who she meant.

Kagome just stared her down pointedly as she disappeared out the front door, nodding in silent acknowledgment of Sango’s pleas.

“What the fuck was  that  just now?” Her dad shot up from his chair like a bullet out of a gun and lunged toward Sango, “You bring your little friend to try and talk shit to me?”

“No, dad,” Sango insisted, “She’s just like that. She’s the kind of person that will stand up for someone she thinks is in trouble, and she thought  I  was in trouble-” 

She stopped. His hand was around her throat. Not squeezing, just a firm grip. He was showing her that he  could  squeeze if he wanted to. How wonderfully familiar.

“Dad,” Sango said softly, trying to keep her voice from crying out louder than necessary, keeping it low, keeping it  calm , “I have to be on TV at the Golden Globes in a few days. If there are bruises on my neck, people will ask questions. You don’t want me to lose my job, right?”

Her father narrowed his eyes, then released his grip around her neck. “I still don’t appreciate this half-assed form of backup you brought to  my  door.”

“I know, Dad. I’m sorry.” It was amazing, wasn’t it? How automatically the apologies could spill out with this man in front of her? She would have gagged if she were able to move.

“Get me another beer,” her dad barked over his shoulder to her mom, who immediately stood up and hauled ass toward the kitchen.

“Mom, sit down,” Sango said, “You don’t have to get him anything.” Even as she said it, her voice was shaking.

Her mom just stopped short in her own tracks, looking shaken and ashamed.

“Oh,” Sango’s dad broke into a grin, “So we’re back to  this  then. Some things never change.”

“What do you want from me, Dad? Really?” Sango tried to direct the conversation back towards her. Direct his attention back towards her. Tried and true strategy.

“Right now, I want a beer. Are  you  gonna get it, or is your mother? I don’t really care who does. But I’m tired of asking.”

“I’ll get it,” Sango said quickly, rushing past him toward the kitchen.

“Great,” she heard him call, “Grab one for yourself. We have a lot to talk about, pumpkin.”

 


 

“Inuyasha, shut up, it’s your girlfriend. Probably wants to ask me to run away with her again. OW! Hey Kagome, what’s up?”

“Miroku,” Kagome said, sitting in the driver’s seat of Sango’s car, her eyes trained on the front door of the small, insignificant house, “Where are you?”

“Just picking up our tuxes for the Globes downtown.”

“You need to get here fast. Sango told me not to tell anyone, but-”

She heard his tone instantly grow serious.  “Where are you? What’s wrong?”  There was instantly a sound of Inuyasha speaking up in the background, and a sound of scuffling, maybe a punch or a slap thrown. Inuyasha clearly had grabbed the phone, because the next thing she heard was his voice.

“Kiddo, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Some shit with Sango. Her dad’s a piece of shit, by the way,” Kagome said, “Can you guys just get here fast?”

A muted shout in the background.  “Miroku’s asking if Sango’s okay. And you still didn’t answer my question about  you  being okay.”

“That’s the thing,” Kagome said, “I’m out in front of the house, in the car with the windows down. She told me to wait outside, but from what I could gather in there, the situation didn’t look good. I’m listening for any noises that sound rough, and then I’m busting back in there, but I’d prefer if I didn’t have to do it alone.”

“So call the fucking cops! Don’t  you  go in there getting hurt!”

“I can’t,” Kagome said, “Not until I know for sure what’s going on. Plus, Sango said not to tell anyone.”

“Well,  fuck  what Sango says! You’re not going back into - well, wherever you are, by yourself!”

Another scuffling noise, and it was Miroku’s voice again, despite Inuyasha’s audible protests.

“Kagome. Address. Now.”

Kagome recited it from memory. “As fast as you can,” she insisted again, “She might be mad at me for telling you but I don’t care at this point.”

She heard the start of a car, and the roar of an engine as it got up to speed. More scuffling noises.

“Kagome,”  Inuyasha said,  “Don’t go back in there, okay?”

“No promises, jerkface,” Kagome said, a humorless smile on her face, “If I hear a punch, I’m breaking down the door and getting Sango out of there. She’s clearly helpless against her dad.”

“Kagome. Wait for us. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Ten, the way Miroku’s driving, as long as we don’t get pulled over.”

“Is Miroku okay?”

“Are you okay?”  A string of muffled insults and curses.  “No, I think he’s a little stressed out. Hey, buddy, want  me  to drive?”  An even more emphatic string of muffled insults and curses.  “Okay, okay, just trying to help. Kagome, if you hear something, call the fucking cops and stay put. Don’t play the hero.”

“If I hear something, I’ll call the cops,” Kagome promised, her eyes still trained on the open screen door. Silence. Eerie, eerie silence. 

“And you’ll stay in the fucking car until they get there?”

“Huh?” Kagome was only half paying attention. Her hearing was focused on the little white house of her.

“Kagome, please,”  Inuyasha’s voice was clearly pleading with her,  “Stay put. Wait for us. No matter what. We’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll try. I have to go.” She hung up without a goodbye, intent on listening for noises that would clue her into what was going on.

 


 

“So the check I gave you wasn’t enough,” Sango said, feeling herself grit her teeth behind her tightly closed lips, “I cleaned out my bank account, my  entire  bank account, to get you out of our lives, but you want more.”

“That went toward paying off some loans,” her dad said sagely, “Trying to get out of the hole here. Get us all back on our feet.”

“Are you serious right now?” Sango wished her voice sounded as furious as she felt.

“I think as a member of this family, you should contribute. This being hard times and all. And with your cushy new job, you’re in the position of breadwinner. Now you know how  I  felt all those years.”

Sango wanted to remind him that the past several years he hadn’t been winning bread for  anyone , let alone their family, but she remained silent, seated in her chair opposite his.

“Listen, pumpkin,” her dad took a gulp of beer and continued, “I see what you’re doing on TV. Running all those fancy red carpet events and meeting the creme de la creme of people. That’s a great little job you managed to land, and as a father, I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“You’ve already told me all this,” Sango said bitingly, “In New York.”

“Well, I’m telling you again. And stop with the attitude. My god, Yuko, you clearly spoil these kids. The  mouths  on  both  of them, for god’s sake.” He turned a furious eye back toward her mom, who didn’t look up.

“Hey,” Sango said, bracing both arms on the side of her chair, “I’m twenty-five years old. I’m not a child anymore. How I speak to you is  my  choice, not Mom’s.”

“It’s sweet that you’re trying to defend her, but if she’d have done her job disciplining you, we wouldn’t even have to have this conversation.”

“You unimaginable bastard.” Sango’s grip around the arms of her chair was so tight her knuckles were white.

Smack.  Sango’s head flew to the side, and she didn’t push back, didn’t resist. It hurt less if she just let it happen. Let her body flow with it. Keep her muscles from fighting back.

Her dad shook out his hand, grimacing once with the pain in his knuckles as he fixed her with a steady, emotionless eye. “Let’s try that again,” he said quietly, dangerously. “What were you saying, pumpkin?”

“I was saying, I’m getting Mom and Kohaku out of here,” Sango said, putting a hand to her cheek but refusing to cringe or cry out. She knew he was searching for pain, for weakness, and she wouldn’t give it to him. “I’m making more money now than you  ever  did, not that any of it ever went to helping your family.”

She swallowed, feeling the lump in her throat but refusing to let herself cry. Crying showed vulnerability. She’d learned this long ago. “And I’m going to get you out of our lives and you won’t get another  cent.  The money I gave you before was more than sufficient. It was more than you ever deserved.”

His glare at her became a glower. She fought the urge to cringe backward as she shakily stood to her feet, her arms hanging limply at her sides.

“We’ll live in a nice house, and Kohaku will get better, and neither of them will want for anything for the rest of their lives. I’ll take care of all of it. And we’ll be so happy without you.” She tasted a sliver of blood leaking from the inside of her cheek but smiled despite it.

“Sango, please,” her mom said softly from the corner, pleading, not wanting the carnage to continue, just wanting it to be calm again. 

I know, Mom. I used to always just want the same thing. And it never worked, did it? Sooner or later, he was always back. Always asking for another handout. Whether it was from your purse or my purse, it didn’t matter. This needs to end. Today.

There was a banging sound toward the front door, and Kagome rushed in, a little out of breath. “Did he hit you?” she demanded of Sango, her eyes darting from the center of the room to the man now resituating himself in the armchair.

“No,” Sango said, on autopilot, her eyes trained on her dad’s. Her hand left her cheek almost casually as she sat back into her chair, even though her jaw was burning with the force of the slap.

“Quit lying to me,” Kagome growled at her, “I’m getting used to your tells.” Her attention snapped to Sango’s father. “You son of a bitch!”

Kagome started at him, running across the living room to a gasp from Sango’s mother, and then stopped short at the glint of the blade, skidding to a stop, all her momentum disappearing instantaneously as she shrank back and held her hands up in surrender, stopping only when Sango held out a hand to catch her.

“Sango,” her dad said with a sigh, looking at the pocketknife in his hands almost bemusedly, “What if I were to go to your boss and tell him who I am and what I want? That would be a little messy, wouldn’t it? Do you think he’d want to keep taking a chance on a little street slut who got lucky if it brought him and his big old studio all this awkward publicity? That is, unless you’re sleeping with him for the job. If so, I can’t do anything to you. At least, if you’re doing it all  properly. ” He kicked over the ottoman in front of him to accentuate his point. Sango’s mom flinched in the corner.

Sango wished she’d kept her game face on instantly as soon she’d seen her dad’s eyes light up. Kagome, still blocking Sango from her father’s view, reached around and gripped her around the wrist. A sweet display of solidarity. But it didn’t matter. Not when the knife was out. Her dad had been drinking heavily. The knife was going to be used. Sango knew it.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you were that smart about it, pumpkin. Just think, though. All you worked for, ruined by some silly and unnecessary family drama,” he said, his smile becoming a leer, “It would be  so  much easier if you just kept to supporting your family. Your  entire  family.”

“Kagome,” Sango whispered to the back of Kagome’s shoulder, “Please get out of here.”

“Are you fucking  kidding me?”  Kagome hissed back, then spoke out louder, to make sure he heard her, “He’s got a knife and he’s openly threatening us with it. I’m calling the cops.”

“Sweetheart,” Sango’s dad said, that leer returning to his face as he regarded Kagome, “this is  my  house.  You’re  intruding.” He took a step forward. Kagome openly gulped, but held her ground.

“Do you know who she is?” Sango said quickly, thinking on her feet and gripping Kagome’s wrist just as hard as Kagome was gripping hers, “She’s Kikyou Higurashi’s sister. If there’s any incident here, there will be problems. For you and for all of us.”

“Oh, so  that’s  where I thought I’d seen her. So she’s your insurance, is she, pumpkin? Kagome, is it? You do look  just  like your sister. You know that, right?” 

Kagome gave a sigh that sounded more like a snort. “I know. So back the fuck off. And everyone’s leaving, right now. You can sit here and rot, for all I care.”

“That doesn’t solve my problem.” Sango’s dad almost looked mildly  distressed,  but Sango knew enough to know that it was bullshit. He looked up at Sango. “What about all the money your mother owes me for Kohaku’s care? I signed off on those bills, you know. It’s all going on my credit. I think I’m owed  something  here.”

You son of a bitch you’re the reason he’s in the hospital in the first place - 

“I’ll pay you back,” Sango said automatically, quickly, standing up and trying to not too obviously pull Kagome along with her. Kagome stood rooted to the spot, shrugging off Sango’s hand.

“Too right, you will,” her dad said, twirling the knife casually in his hand, “but little Miss Sister-to-Kikyou-Higurashi needs to leave right now. Or this will just get worse.”

“Kagome,” Sango grabbed at Kagome, almost climbing her with the force of her grip, “Get out of here. Now. You need to go.”

Kagome turned a steely gaze over her shoulder to Sango and their eyes connected. Sango knew there was a tear slipping from one of her own eyes, but couldn’t help it, and she just shook her head, keeping her jaw set firmly as if to say her decision was final.

“This is bullshit,” Kagome said softly, as she slipped out of Sango’s hold and stomped toward the front door.

Sango agreed with her.

“Now then,” her dad said, “That’s the second time today you’ve pulled one of your little minions into this and tried to avoid your responsibilities. What would you say is an adequate punishment for that?”

Sango sank back into her chair and closed her eyes.

 


 

Kagome banged the screen door loudly for the second time that evening, making sure her point was made. Not that anyone cared. Not that Sango would suddenly get up, get her mother out of there, and grow a spine. 

Calm down, Kagome. The same shit was done to you for your whole life. Well, not the  same  shit, but you had to learn how to break free. And Sango hasn’t yet. That’s not Sango’s fault.

Of course it wasn’t. Didn’t mean Kagome didn’t want to wallop everyone in that living room upside the head for different reasons.

She leaned against the stone facade on the side of the house, willing herself to calm down and breathe evenly.

A Mercedes squealed up the street. Miroku’s. Kagome immediately sprang up from her leaning position and motioned him urgently to park further down the street.

Both Miroku and Inuyasha jumped out of the car as if spring-loaded into it, and ran toward her. Inuyasha immediately folded his arms around her and she let herself bury her face into his neck.

“Kagome,” he murmured, “You okay?”

She could only weakly nod, letting herself melt into his arms. Inuyasha worked on her like a tonic sometimes.

“Sango still in there?” Miroku said, tossing off his sunglasses and throwing them to Inuyasha, who caught them one-handed, still clinging tightly to Kagome.

“Yes,” she whispered, “He’s got a knife. He’s not using it, but he’s showing it off sure enough.”

“Right,” Miroku said, his eyes murderous as he started toward the front door, fists clenched. 

Kagome wrenched out of Inuyasha’s embrace and grabbed Miroku by the shoulders. “You can’t just go in there,” she said, realizing now that her voice was shaking. Was it from nerves, or from sheer fury? She wasn’t sure. She’d figure it out later.

“The  hell  we can’t,” Inuyasha said, pushing past her to join Miroku.

“Wait. Stop. Stop and think for a second, idiots.” Kagome had both of them by the wrists and was digging her heels into the ground to hold them back. “If you just walk into that house, that house which her  father  owns, by the way, he can legally do whatever he wants to you. Intruder laws and all that.”

“How about fuck that shit,” Inuyasha growled, “He pulled a knife on  you?  I will fucking kill him and make him disappear.”

“Inuyasha,” Kagome said, looking hesitantly at the neighboring houses. No one seemed to be outside or listening at windows, but that was a chance they couldn’t take. “Stop. Miroku, make him stop.”  That’s it, appeal to his chessmaster sensibilities. That’s all you can do at this point.

Miroku was breathing heavily, his eyes darting from the house’s door to its windows and back to the door again.

Kagome held her breath.

“Inuyasha,” Miroku finally said, his voice as calm as she’d ever heard it as he turned around, “What the hell are you two still doing here? Get your ass in the car and get out of here. If some nosy neighbor looks out and sees my meal ticket standing on the street in a possibly incriminating situation, it will probably suck.”

Inuyasha glared at him, clearly aghast at his train of thought. “Wh-what the fuck is  wrong  with you? Let’s get in there?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Miroku said, and now his eyes weren’t on Inuyasha’s, but Kagome’s. “Get pretty boy here out of sight. It’s not like you can hide what he looks like, so get him out of here. Preferably somewhere he’s noticed. I know we were trying to keep you two from being seen in public together, but - “

“It’s fine,” Kagome said quickly. All their issues were a hill of beans compared to this. “But what are you going to do?”

He tossed her the keys to the Mercedes. “What I’m good at,” he said, turning back toward the house with a fierce determination in his blue eyes, “Talking.”

Kagome pulled Inuyasha back toward the car, and he reluctantly followed.

“Any ideas where we should go?” she said as he flung himself angrily into the passenger seat, “I’ve always wanted you to take me to dinner in LA. So let’s do it.”

Inuyasha was clearly ready to climb back out of the car and go back Miroku up, so Kagome busied herself with getting the car into gear and slowly, inconspicuously, driving down the street. 

She glanced a check in the rearview mirror to see Miroku give them a small half-wave salute, then stomp the ever-loving shit out of the taillight of the Dodge Challenger parked in Sango’s driveway. Her dad’s car.

The alarm went crazy.

“What the fuck is he  doing? ” Inuyasha snapped, craning his neck to see as they were about to round the corner.

Kagome felt simultaneously proud and sick to her stomach. “That crazy son of a bitch,” she murmured weakly.

“We need to call the cops. If that guy is anything like you said, he’ll kill him.”

“Not yet,” Kagome said, hating herself for having to be the cold, logical one, but then again, she’d been Kikyou Higurashi’s assistant for the better part of her life, “The timeline wouldn’t add up.”

Miroku, please be okay. Please please please be okay. You’re the meanest asshole in Hollywood. You can handle this, right?

Right?

Chapter 53: I Didn't Hear You, Stupid

Summary:

In which someone gets stabbed, someone gets knocked out, and Miroku can't differentiate between action movies and real life.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty-Three

I Didn't Hear You, Stupid

 

The sound of breaking glass.

A car alarm wailing outside.

Sango’s eyes fluttered open, dazed. The last blow she’d taken had been to the stomach, knocking all of the air out of her lungs and leaving her too weak to even cry out. Her dad had always been good at leaving the bruises where they wouldn’t be seen. 

The pocketknife was on the table, still open, still unused. Not for long, she knew.

“What the FUCK? ” Her dad stepped away from her and looked furiously toward the window, then moved toward the hallway leading to the front door. “Is that your little bitch friend causing trouble?”

He passed by the table on his way out.

Don’t take the knife don’t take the knife don’t take the knife with you.

He took it, gripping it in his right fist as he banged out of the screen door.

Sango sank to the floor in front of the chair, burying her face in her hands.

“Sango, honey,” her mom immediately rushed to her, moving none too comfortably herself. 

Who knew what had been happening in the house before Sango and Kagome had arrived. Sango shuddered to think of it, and she also shuddered from the physical pain. So much to shudder about.

“Come on, Mom,” she whispered, “We need to get outside. Out of this house.”

The tears were pouring from her mother’s eyes as she nodded. “My baby girl,” she whimpered, as they helped each other stand, “I let him do this to you. This is all my fault.”

“Stop it,” Sango growled, maybe a bit too harshly, “Don’t you go doing that again. He’s been drinking, and we both know no one can control him when that happens. If anything, it’s my fault for not protecting you better.”

Holding each other, they gently, hesitantly started to open the screen door.

“And who the hell are you supposed to be?” her dad was screaming, still taking swigs of his beer, the knife hanging at his side.

Sango nearly fell over when she saw past him at who was standing in the middle of the street.

Houshi?

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to see her like this. He wasn’t supposed to know she was nothing more than used goods and trailer trash.

Kagome had ratted her out. 

Sango felt faint, but she decided to forget about her pounding heart and instead snuck herself and her mother a little further down the porch, away from her dad. Away from the knife.

Miroku was standing there, one hand on his hip and the other on the back of his head,  looking distressed and distracted and more than a little sheepish. “Geez,” he said in a friendly tone, “I’m so sorry about that! It’s my boy, you understand. Big baseball fan. The little slugger musta hit that last one too hard. And on a car like this! It looks brand new. Gosh, dealer plates and all. I’m so very sorry. I’ll pay for the damage, of course. How much does a new taillight run on one of these things?”

Houshi, what the fuck are you doing? He hadn’t met her eyes once, hadn’t even looked at her.

Miroku looked Sango’s dad over once, clearly taking in the pocketknife, and his eyes narrowed for just a moment before he pulled out his wallet and pointedly started counting out hundreds. Sango’s dad just took another gulp of beer, but she saw his grip on the knife relax slightly.

At the sight of the money, her dad stumbled down the porch steps. “You owe me ten grand for that.”

“Ten grand! Wow-ee! You must have gotten the extra, extra modifications for a taillight to be that expensive on a 2018 Challenger! Most I’ve ever paid is, like, a couple hundred at most!” Miroku looked genuinely impressed, then furrowed his brow at his wallet. “Maybe I should just let it go through my insurance.”

“I’ll take what you’ve got, right now,” Sango’s dad said, “And we’ll call it even. Just get off my property.”

He’s starting to slur his words more, Sango noted. Hopefully her little gamble with his beer had paid off.

Miroku looked surprised at the man’s hostile tone of voice. “Um, I’m not on your property, sir.” He motioned to where he was standing. “I’m on a public street.”

“You’re interrupting something important,” her dad growled, “Not that that’s any of your business.”

“Well, okay,” Miroku said cheerfully, “Just let me find my son’s baseball and I’ll give you the money and we’ll just move on with our merry lives!”

Houshi, seriously, what the fuck are you doing get out of here get out of here get out of here - 

Miroku took a small step forward onto the lawn, as if he were scanning the sparse grass for something, then finally he looked up and his blue eyes met her brown ones in a moment that seemed to almost stop time.

There was so much adoration in that one, brief glance. Sango wanted to squeal with glee and cry her eyes out at the same time, but neither of those actions would do for the situation they were in right now.

“Hey!” her dad called out, his voice a hoarse growl, “Get the fuck back.”

Miroku immediately threw his hands up and took a few steps backward, his eyes still locked with Sango’s.

What are you trying to tell me here, Houshi? Sango wished she could just call a time-out and find out what his game plan was, but that wasn’t an option.

“Sorry,” Miroku said, “Like I said, just looking for my son’s baseball. I suppose it could have bounced into the next yard over. Who’s that? ” He pointed directly to her, a smirk on his face.

Houshi no what are you doing please - 

“That’s my daughter,” her dad growled, “and it’s time you got on your way. I’ll forget the broken taillight once you pay for it, and then you get out of here.”

“How old is she?” Miroku said, scribbling a check in his wallet, his eyes still locked with Sango’s, a dreamy look on his face.

“That’s none of your goddamn business.” Sango’s dad was getting visibly angrier and more frustrated. The knife was still in his right hand. 

Sango couldn’t quite concentrate on how much the sight of Miroku made her want to do nothing else in her life but love him. And love him hard. Forever. Until the end. That knife made the future harder to center on.

“Here’s ten grand for the taillight,” Miroku said, holding out the finished check to her dad. When he reached out, Miroku seized him by the wrist, pulling him closer. “And I want your daughter as well.”

“What?” It was clear her dad was surprised at the outburst as Sango was.

“I said,” Miroku said, leaning in closer to Sango’s dad’s face, “I want your daughter as well. I want to take her away from all this and give her a life of luxury. Away from all this...adorable quaintness.”

“You son of a bitch!” 

I love how he says that, but he still snatches the check away. Money first before your family, right, Dad? Anytime, every time.

Miroku shoved a right hand into his pocket and smirked at her dad. “You haven’t even asked my price before insulting me.”

Sango inhaled sharply. Her mom sank further into her arms, seemingly knowing what was about to happen and wanting to turn her face away.

She almost cried out his name. 

She almost did. 

But a quick, almost sad smile from him silenced her. She could just picture him saying, “Babe, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

Her dad straightened up slightly and stepped up to Miroku, as if ready to negotiate, as if Sango was just a little trinket he could lend out to whoever needed it. 

Sango felt her eyes narrow as she closed her arms around her mother and stared at the back of her father. You asshole, she thought, you’ve tried to do this to me before with your scum friends and it never worked. I always kicked, I always screamed. And I always got hit for it.

“What’s your price?” her dad said, clearly swaying on his feet. It seemed Sango’s little concoction was working somewhat, though not as well as she would have hoped.

“My price?” Miroku just grinned into his face.

And then Miroku seized the knife still gripped in her dad’s right hand and forced it toward himself. Her dad was surprised and resisted too late and the knife point hung above Miroku’s shoulder.

“I want you in jail for the rest of your life,” Miroku said calmly, too calmly, as he put a fist around her dad’s wrist and forced the knife downward.

Into his own shoulder.

Sango shrieked.

 


 

“Now?” Inuyasha demanded, holding his phone aloft with 911 on speed-dial.

Kagome winced as if in physical pain herself. They had stashed the car several blocks down and were hiding in the bushes on the corner, watching it all go down.

“Yes, yes,” she said, amazed she was able to speak, “For god’s sake, now.

 


 

“Get OFF of him!”

Sango felt herself drop her own mother unceremoniously to the porch floor as she leapt over the garden fence and darted towards Miroku.

“Mom, call 911!” she screamed over her shoulder as she bodily wrestled her own father off of Miroku. Her mom seemed to get the message and scrambled into the house.

Her father fell backward, obviously too drunk or too conked out on the Xanax she’d dropped in his beer to coherently physically respond. The knife remained in Miroku’s shoulder. Her dad clearly felt Sango drop to her knees in grass next to them, and he murmured something incoherent and tried to sit up, and Sango answered him with a stiletto boot to the face, almost without looking. He groaned and fell backward and didn’t respond further.

“Houshi!” She held his face gently in her hands. “Why the hell would you go and do something that stupid?” She couldn’t resist it; she peppered his face with small kisses as tears started to form in her eyes.

“It’s okay, babe,” he said woozily, looking mildly down at the blood trickling from under the knife, “I made sure to guide it into my shoulder. I’ll be okay.”

“You absolute idiot ,” Sango said, “You realize there’s a major artery in the shoulder, right? People have died from shoulder wounds. It’s not like the fucking movies!”

Miroku dazedly blinked at her, then looked back to the knife sticking out of his shoulder. “Oh, shit,” he said, all too calm for her to be comfortable with it, “Probably shoulda thought this through better. But then again, I didn’t get much time to plan, ya know?”

“Houshi,” Sango said, pulling him up into a sitting position and holding him up with her own strength, which was meager at this point.

“Yes?”

“Don’t pull out the knife.”

“Don’t worry, babe, I wasn’t gonna touch it.” 

“It’s probably keeping you alive right now.”

“That’s nice.” He flopped forward and let his forehead rest on her collarbone, his eyelids fluttering.

“Houshi!” She shook him probably a little too violently, since he winced.

His eyes met hers. “I told you,” he said softly, almost wistfully, reaching up with a trembling hand to brush her bangs out of her eyes, “Eventually you’re gonna have to stop calling me that.”

“Why?” she said, catching his hand in her own, willing him with all her own being to stay awake, “Tell me why.”

“Someday,” he said, cupping her cheek in his hand as his eyelids fluttered again.

“Stay awake!” she screamed in his face, “Give it ten minutes and I’ll have every paramedic ever licensed in California taking care of you. But stay awake!”

Sango was dimly aware of something warm and wet coating her hands. She knew it was Miroku’s blood, but no it’s not his blood he’s invincible he’s the heartless king behind the scenes of Hollywood nothing could ever hurt him - 

Miroku coughed a little, and Sango felt a fresh rush of hot blood between her fingers. “Ugh, shit,” he grumbled, as if it were only a stubbed toe or a dinged funny bone and not a fucking possible fatal blow. 

He let his head fall back into the crook of her arm.

“Well, if this is it,” he said, and she shook her head violently to interrupt him.

“It’s not it! You fucking idiot! You’re gonna stay alive and then you’re gonna tell me what you meant about me not calling you Houshi anymore! Okay? Got it?” Sango was well aware the tears were spilling freely out of her eyes, and that they were falling onto Miroku’s cheeks below her, but she didn’t care.

“What I was gonna say,” he said softly, that stupid serene, accepting smile on his face like he didn’t know this was a load of bullshit and that he was going to pull through no matter what, “is that I wouldn’t have wanted it to end anywhere but in your arms, Sango.”

“Wh-what?” She was so distracted, it was hard to even think clearly.

“I love you,” he whispered, his thumb tracing the outline of her face, and the look in his eyes was so beautiful, so sweet, so wonderful, that any other time on this earth Sango would have blushed.

And then he slumped backward, dead weight in her arms.

“I didn’t hear you, stupid!” Sango cried, unable to even see clearly through the tears pouring out of her eyes, “I didn’t hear you! And as far as I’m concerned, you never told me anything! So you better stay alive and tell me again, got it?”

She buried her face in his neck, sobbing.

And then the red and blue lights soared into visibility. Much too soon for her mother to have called them.

 


 

“Kagome?” Inuyasha squirmed at the arrival of sirens, “Let’s go help.”

“We can’t,” Kagome said, tears streaming down her face, “Or at least, you can’t. Otherwise this will be front page news.”

“You’re front page news now, too,” Inuyasha pointed out, his face trained on the paramedics rushing toward Miroku in Sango’s arms.

Kagome said nothing, but agreed with him, nodding silently as her face crumpled into tears.

Inuyasha folded his arms around her shoulders, seemingly unsure of what else he could do at that moment and obviously hating a situation where he couldn’t just punch his way out.

“What do we do, baby?” Inuyasha whispered, “Your call. I don’t give a shit at this point.”

“Let’s meet them at the hospital,” Kagome said softly, “We need to braid your hair again and get you a jacket.”

Chapter 54: Ralph The Russian Spy

Summary:

In which a nurse gets the shock of her life, Inuyasha and Kagome go on their first public date, and Miroku gets super high and makes a new special friend.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty-Four

Ralph The Russian Spy

 

“Are we good?”

“Yeah,” Kagome said, her clearly shaking hands tying off the braid and letting his hair go, “We’re good. Let’s go.” She pulled a baseball cap over her own face, handing an almost identical one to Inuyasha. Where does she even keep those? In her backpack? He couldn’t discount the idea. Kagome was always prepared.

They got out of the car and rushed toward the emergency room entrance. Inuyasha already felt out of breath. Following the ambulance through the busy, crowded streets of LA had been a chore, but Inuyasha had taken one look at Kagome’s stricken, worried face and realized that a few violations of traffic laws were worth getting them to the hospital as quickly as possible. If a cop pulled them over, Inuyasha knew he could always just say it was an emergency, and they’d take one look at his famous face and agree with him, if not provide him with an escort. But then again, that was publicity they didn’t want. If they could avoid it, they would. But all in all, it didn’t matter. Not when Miroku was being whisked off to intensive care.

His hand closed around Kagome’s, and she looked up at him, surprised at the no doubt public gesture,h but seemingly grateful all the same. They walked through the automatic doors hand in hand, the first time they’d ever done that without caring too much who was looking.

“Miroku Houshi,” Kagome said to the desk clerk, “He’s just been admitted with a stab wound - “

“Are you family?” The desk clerk said sharply, not even looking up from her stack of paperwork.

“We’re just as good as family,” Kagome said, her voice taking on a pleading tone.

“If you’re not blood relatives, I can’t admit you into the area.” The woman gave Kagome a harsh look and took a sip of black coffee from a mug emblazoned with Looney Tunes characters.

Inuyasha sighed, gave Kagome a brief look, as if to say oh, what the hell , and took off his hat. The desk clerk immediately straightened up and got that all-too-familiar look in her eyes. The “oh-shit-that’s-Inuyasha-Takahashi” look.

“He’s my brother,” Inuyasha said, leaning onto the counter, working that magic, “Not my blood brother, of course, but he’s the closest thing in the world I have to family.”

The woman swallowed audibly, and he felt her gaze travel up and down him as if he were some sort of prize cow. “He’s in surgery right now,” she said softly, “Feel free to wait in the room.” And then she gave him the room number.

“Thanks,” he said with an easygoing smile, checking the name on the badge around her neck, “Martha. I really appreciate it.”

He put his hand in Kagome’s and pulled her down the stark white hallway, where doctors and nurses stood conversing and only barely nudged out of their way as they continued forward.

They reached the room and entered to see Sango, covered in bloodstains, and what could only be Sango’s mother, sitting there mutely.

“What are you doing here?” Sango sprang to her feet and immediately started toward both of them. “You can’t be seen here! Too much craziness. The paps will figure out you’re here and start sucking blood. Get out of here.”

“If you think I’m leaving when I don’t know if my friend will live or die,” Kagome said quietly, but shakily, “then you’ve got another thing coming.”

Sango stared at Kagome for a moment, and then the two girls threw themselves into each other’s arms, both seemingly growing limp at the knees.

Inuyasha sprang to catch both of them, pulling them up by the elbows, and the result was a sort of awkward three-way hug where everyone leaned their head into the circle and let themselves breathe in and out for a few moments.

“He’ll be okay,” Sango said softly, shakily, after a long period of silence, “The doctors said we did the right thing, leaving the knife in him. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay.” She repeated it like a Buddhist mantra, trying to will it into truthful existence.

“So we’ll wait here,” Inuyasha said, already starting to guide Kagome toward the stark, uncomfortable plastic chairs in the corner of the room.

“No,” Sango shook her head, “You’ll go off and enjoy a night out together. Have lobster. Have steak. But get yourselves photographed. You two don’t want to be anywhere near this incident, trust me.”

Kagome furrowed her brow. “I should at least let the cops ask me some questions, right?”

“No,” Sango said, a soft smile on her face, “I’ll take care of everything. I promise I’m not folding on this. Not anymore. Not ever again. We’re pressing charges, and we’re pressing charges hard , right, Mom?” She glanced at her mother, who hesitated, as if years of practice were telling her not to agree, but then eventually nodded.

“Kikyou’s gonna be mad as hell when she sees those photos go to print,” Inuyasha felt it was his duty to report, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Yes, she is, isn’t she?” Sango said, her eyes a little glazed over, “But right now, I don’t give a shit. What is she gonna do, run to the press and play the victim?”

“She’ll try it,” Kagome said, and there was a self-assured tone to her voice that Inuyasha was surprised to hear. Why was she so nonchalant and accepting about the whole idea of Kikyou going rogue? It was terrifying for him to think of.

“She will,” Sango said quietly, “And it will probably be hell. But I promise you, I’ll help. Please trust me. I know I haven’t given you reason to, but for god’s sake, trust me . I’ll let you know whatever’s happening, as it happens. Please.

Kagome looked like she didn’t like the idea of going out and having a romantic evening out right now, and Inuyasha couldn’t blame her. But almost in real time, he watched her realize that by doing just that, she’d be able to avoid a scandal. A big one. One that if Kikyou knew about, she just wouldn’t be able to pass up.

Kagome put her hand back into Inuyasha’s, linked her own fingers with his. “Come on,” she said, “You get to take me to dinner like I always wanted.”

Inuyasha furrowed his brow, but nodded, and let Kagome lead him outside.

“By the way,” Kagome said on the way out, inclining her head in Sango’s direction, “The desk nurse probably needs paying off. Do you want me to take care of it?”

Sango just nodded mutely as they rounded the corner and she disappeared from Inuyasha’s view.

 

 


 

 

“And for entrees, we have a dry-aged steak,” the waiter was saying.

Inuyasha was sitting in his comfortable dining chair, staring at the white linen tabletop without any indication that he was listening.

Kagome, in her jeans and black netted top sitting in the middle of a five-star Italian eatery, was doing her best to pay attention. “That’ll be fine,” she said quickly, hating to interrupt but preferring to be left alone, “For both of us.”

The waiter blinked in surprise, his eyes cutting to Inuyasha’s mute form across the table. Obviously he wasn’t used to the ‘date’ taking control when he was dealing with an A-list Hollywood star.

Inuyasha seemed to sense his hesitation and sent a glare to the waiter that would have frozen a hot cup of tea. The waiter got the hint and scurried off.

Kagome put her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands, letting herself breathe in, breathe out. It would be okay. It would all be okay. Everyone would be fine.

She felt a hand close around one of hers and pull it downward to the surface of the table. Inuyasha just kept staring downward, his fingers running gently over her palm. He was so obviously unsure what to say. And what could anyone say, at this moment? Here they were, having dinner in a swanky LA restaurant, while Miroku was still in surgery. What kind of bullshit industry was this?

Kagome closed her fingers around Inuyasha’s and realized she had to be the strong one right now. She was the one who had weathered the storms before. The reason Inuyasha wasn’t used to this whole thing was because it had been her job to make sure he never noticed the crazy shit whirling around him and Kikyou in the past.

“Hey,” she said softly, and he looked up, his amber eyes meeting her blue ones. She gave a reassuring smile, as reassuring as she could make it right now. “It’s gonna be okay. No matter what. Miroku’s a tough bastard. We know that. Right?”

He nodded silently, though her pep talk seemed to make him feel at least a little better, as he wasn’t glaring laser-beam holes through the tabletop anymore. 

She squeezed his hand a little tighter, and he pressed his lips to her knuckles, his eyes full of adoration that he couldn’t disguise, no matter the situation. No matter what was going on around them.

The two of them could sense the other patrons trying to be subtle about taking pictures of them. It wasn’t working. They both knew what was happening.

Their drinks arrived, then their food. 

The food looked amazing.

They drank the drinks.

They left the food.

 


 

“Sango?”

“He’s okay,” Sango said quickly, knowing she sounded just elated. “He’s okay. He pulled through just fine. He’s laying here sleeping right in front of me. We never should have doubted him.”

There was an audible sigh on the other end as Kagome whispered the same to Inuyasha. “I knew it,” Kagome said, clearly ready to laugh with relief, “That bastard wouldn’t let anything lay him low, let alone some wimpy stab wound. Do you need me to bring you anything? Or at least relieve you, let you get a little sleep?”

“No,” Sango said quickly, glancing at the bed where Miroku lay sleeping more deeply than she’d ever seen (no doubt aided by the numerous painkilling drugs he’d been given), “I’ll stay here. I want to be here when he wakes back up.”

There was a short silence on the other end, and then when Kagome’s voice returned it was with an annoyingly knowing tone. “Alright, fine,” she said, “I guess we’ll see you in the morning. Just so you know, we got papped, just like you wanted. Alibi in place.”

“Good,” Sango said softly, cutting her eyes toward her mom, who was sleeping soundly in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the room, “And no, you’re not coming in the morning. You’re staying far away until he’s better. Houshi would agree with me if he could.”

“...Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,” Sango said, her eyes screwing shut as she sank into her chair and braced herself up with a head to her forehead.

“He’s my friend, Sango. Fuck all this Hollywood bullshit. I want to visit my friend in the hospital. Are you going to try and stop me? After all this?”

Sango had no clue what to say. Part of her just wanted to throw caution to the wind and let them visit. Publicity and all. But there was that small part of her, that ambitious part of her that she couldn’t quiet no matter what happened, that wanted to salvage all that she and Miroku had worked for the past months. Otherwise, what was the point of it all?

Otherwise, why did he have to get hurt?

“Give the phone to me,” a groggy voice whispered.

Sango turned with a start, ignoring the immediate pounding in her heart at the sound of his voice. “How the hell are you awake already?” She rushed forward to his side, balancing the phone on her shoulder and brushing his bangs out of his face, almost as a reassurance to herself that he was, in fact, awake, and talking to her.

Miroku, still reclined on his numerous pillows, just gave her a sleepy grin as he leaned into her touch. “I’ll leave that answer for when I tell you about all the shit I did in college.Or maybe even after college. Probably well after college. When did I even finish college? How old am I? No, don’t answer that. Details aren’t important. Give me the phone, sweet cheeks.”

Sweet cheeks?

Sango felt her cheeks burn even as she bristled at the rude nickname. “I don’t think you’re in the state of mind to - “

“Give me the phone. It’s Kagome, right? I’ll reassure her. I know what you’re doing, Sango. I’ll back your play.”

Dammit, and then you go and say shit like that and I’m putty in your hands. Damn you, Houshi. Damn you to hell. You beautiful, perfect, dream man.

Sango handed him the phone.

 


 

“Kagome, you beautiful unicorn.”

“M-Miroku? You’re awake?” She knew her voice was trembling. Across the table, Inuyasha’s eyes were locked with hers, and the relief on his face was palpable as he broke into a small smile and continued to hold her hand in his.

“I guess I’m awake. I feel great right now. There’s a really cool hole in my shoulder but someone covered it up with toilet paper, that’s weird...What? Oh, Sango says it’s gauze. Oh, how about that. Guess what they gave me.”

Kagome couldn’t help the tears brimming in her eyes as she broke into a grin. “I’m guessing a ton of really strong painkillers, the way you’re talking.”

“No! Silly! Well, maybe. I dunno. But they gave me flowers! And a teddy bear! A cute little teddy bear. I’m going to call him Ralph and he’s going to be my friend. I think he might be a Russian spy, though.”

“He’s wasted,” Kagome whispered to Inuyasha, fighting back quiet laughter. Inuyasha smiled wider and released her hand, sitting back in his chair and helping himself to a sip of his drink.

“Do you want us to come and see you?” she continued, hopeful that Miroku’s inebriated state would bypass Sango’s original orders, because good grief, she wanted to hug him. Gently, of course, and avoiding the wound, but a big hug nonetheless.

“Nah,” Miroku said, “Ralph and Sango will be here. And you two getting papped walking into a hospital? Bad for business.”

Leave it to Miroku to be thinking about business even when out of his mind on a strong cocktail of drugs. Kagome blew a lock of hair out of her face.

“What are you two crazy kids up to?” Miroku was sounding sleepier by the minute.

“We’re at dinner. Italian place called Bestia. Lots of photos being snapped. People think we don’t notice.”

“Ooooh, Bestia. Did you try the dry-aged steak? Steak is good. I want a steak right now. Did you know steaks are made from cows? That’s weird, isn’t it. What if you ate a steak and it mooed? Do you think we’d still eat meat if it yelled at us?”

Kagome couldn’t quite think of a reply and put her free hand over her mouth to muffle a giggle as she looked down at her untouched meal.

“So now you two are officially news. This might make you guys look a little bad to the tabloids. Inuyasha’s supposed to be bonking your sister, remember?”

“Yes.”

“Supposed to be madly in love with the Hollywood goddess, making sweet sweet love to her, defrosting the ice queen-”

“Yes, Miroku, I get it, thank you.”

“We’ve got some work to do to keep you from looking like the side chick, don’t we? And to keep Inuyasha from looking like a cheating bastard. That is, if Kikyou goes bananas. And Kikyou will probably go bananas when she sees you two being the cute couple in public. Speaking of bananas, they’re delicious. And a great source of potassium. Why is potassium a ‘K’ on the periodic table? I always thought that was weird. Maybe it’s ‘K for Kikyou.’ Because she goes bananas. And bananas have potassium.”

Kagome squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, drumming her fingers on the white linen tablecloth. Inuyasha leaned forward and clasped her fingers in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand. She felt the staring eyes around them even more strongly now, but the look in Inuyasha’s eyes told her he had stopped giving a damn.

“I’m gonna go back to sleep now,” Miroku said, his words slurring together even more, “Ralph says it’s sleepytime. Good luck on your photoshoots tomorrow.”

Oh god, the photoshoots. Kagome had completely forgotten until now. How awkward this was going to be once she and Inuyasha were blasted all over the front pages of every ridiculous bloodsucking magazine from here to Timbuktu tomorrow morning.

There was a rustling sound and Sango was back on the other end of the phone.

“You’re shooting Ayame at 10 am at her place in the Hills. I’ll text you the address. Just act natural.”

“Okay,” Kagome said, feeling like her stomach was tied up in knots all over again. And just as she’d been feeling better. Lovely.

“One more thing,” Sango said, “Do me a favor. Go home with Inuyasha and let yourself relax and be happy. We’ve got a storm coming, and we’re going to figure it out. But...just don’t google yourself right now. Do yourself that favor.”

“Ha!” Kagome heard Miroku mutter in the background. “You said ‘google yourself.’”

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Sango said, clearly muffling the receiver with her hand for a moment, then she was back on the phone. “Sorry. He’s a hot fucking mess.”

“I know,” Kagome said, allowing herself a humorless smile, “So the gossip sites are already all over this, huh? And we haven’t even left the restaurant. I take it they’re not being kind.”

“Like I said,” Sango said, her voice sounding insistent, “Don’t fucking worry about it right now. Go home, have some drinks, play some video games, whatever makes you happy. We’ll take care of it all. One way or another. I’m calling Kikyou right now to tell her in no uncertain terms to keep her comments to herself. I’ll just tell her it will hurt her Oscar chances.”

“That’ll do it,” Kagome said glumly. Inuyasha raised an eyebrow in confusion, and she just shrugged at him.

She hung up the phone and sighed. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, locking eyes with him.

“Where?”

“Home.”

He blinked. “Which home?”

“Yours.”

Inuyasha looked a little surprised, but pleasantly so, and he raised his hand for the check.

Chapter 55: That's My Girl

Summary:

In which Sango and her mom agree to take a stand, Inuyasha offers some much-needed video game therapy, and Kagome goes for her first studio-bankrolled photography session with a familiar face.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty-Five

That's My Girl

 

“Sango, honey.”

Sango murmured and lifted her head from Miroku’s bedside, where she’d been leaned over taking a much-needed snooze. Her hand was still in his, and even as he slept, with that damned teddy bear sitting atop his chest, his fingers were still locked with hers.

Her mom was standing there, clearly taking in the two of them with a misty-eyed smile on her face. She looked just as worn out as Sango was.

“I just got a phone call from the police. They want me to come in and answer some questions. About your father.”

Sango sat bolt upright. “I’ll come with you.”

Her mom held up a hand and shook her head. “Not a chance. Not right now. You’ve got bigger things to worry about. I’m sure they’ll want to speak to you eventually, but they get me and only me for the moment. And I’m going to tell them everything. Your father’s being charged with attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon. But I’m going to also let them know just what sort of hell he put me through before you and that wonderful girl - Kagome, wasn’t it? - arrived.”

Sango felt her face twist in a pained grimace. “Oh, Mom, I -”

“Don’t you worry,” her mom said with a wink, which turned into a bit of a wince as she pointed at the purpling bruise lining her cheek and jaw, “One look at this and it’ll reinforce those charges, for sure, if not add a few more. I’m done being the battered wife who puts her kids in danger by believing someone when they apologize and say they’ll change.”

“Don’t do that,” Sango said, tears brimming in her eyes, “Don’t blame yourself, Mom. It was him. It was him alone. He manipulated all of us for years, and we all know it. He was nice, and then he wasn’t. And on and on.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I could have ended this years ago and I didn’t. And now it’s my chance to put things right. To keep him in prison forever. I owe you and Kohaku that much.”

Sango wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “What do you want me to do? How can I help?”

“You can stay right here,” her mom said gently, laying a careworn hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “and hold this young man’s hand.”

Sango looked down at Miroku and put her other hand on top of the one he was holding.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Sango felt another tear drop as she hesitated, then nodded, a small smile on her face. “I think so.”

“Well, you’d better hang on to him, young lady,” her mother said while walking to the door, “That one’s definitely a keeper if he’ll take a stab wound just to get you out of danger. And tell him I want to buy him dinner sometime.”

Sango laughed softly, not taking her eyes off Miroku’s sleeping face. “I will.”

She knew the cops would want to speak to her later, and now, looking at him, she didn’t care as much.

“One thing, Mom,” she said, and her mother paused at the doorway, “Leave Kagome out of it if you can.”

Her mom smiled understandingly. “Can’t afford the bad press to be connected with a scandal like this, is that it?”

“Something like that,” Sango mumbled.

“She was never even there. Who’s Kagome, anyway?”

Sango smiled and relaxed forward onto the bedside, pressing a small kiss to the back of Miroku’s hand and letting her eyes flutter shut again.

 


 

The second they were in the house, Kagome put down her duffel bag, kicked out of her boots, took off her leather jacket, and stood there for a moment in the palacious living room. Then her knees buckled, and she would have collapsed to the tile floor if not for a pair of strong arms that immediately seized her and held her in place.

Inuyasha leaned his chin over her shoulder, whispering “Shhh, it’s okay,” as she turned and flung her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest and letting the sobs escape. This had been the craziest day of her life, and god, that was saying something.

She felt him lift her, almost as if she were a child, and carry her over to the couch, where he put her down ever so gently, brushing the hair out of her eyes and the tears off of her cheeks.

“I got an idea,” he said, a mischievous grin on his face, and he disappeared almost instantly, causing her to jump at the change of weight ratios on the couch and shake her head, blink herself back alert.

He returned momentarily, stumbling over black electrical cords, some of them held in his teeth, his arms overburdened with grey plastic ornaments.

“What are you - “ Kagome started to say, and then she realized what he was carrying. “Is that - “

“Yep.” He turned and flashed her that million-dollar smile before turning back to the TV and fumbling around in back of it. “Not that I remember that well how to plug it in, you always used to do it.”

“Here,” Kagome said, a soft smile rising to her lips as she rose from the couch and elbowed him gently aside, “Let me.”

As she connected the wires, peering through the lack of proper lighting behind the television screen, she felt his arms close around her waist and grip her tightly. “Inuyasha, I’m trying to fix the stupid-”

“I know, but you’re just so damn cute,” he said, and she felt his head close over her shoulder again, “Can’t help it.”

Kagome felt her heart almost overflow with love for the man standing behind her. It only took a moment’s thought, and then she dropped the wires and let her arms curl around his, leaning back into his touch, laying her head back on his chest.

“I don’t know if it’s weird, saying this now,” Inuyasha mumbled, and she could see the flush of pink on his cheeks and god it’s just so cute should I feel bad right now with everything else going on , “But you should know. They say hindsight’s always twenty-twenty, and I totally get what they mean now, because…And I mean, it’s my fault for not realizing it sooner, and...” He faltered, digging his chin a little deeper into her shoulder, his face growing even redder.

“Hey,” Kagome said softly, turning in his arms and ruffling his hair, the way he’d always done to her, “We don’t have to go into all this now. You set out to cheer me up, and you have. What do you want to play, Mario Kart or Super Smash?”

She definitely wanted to hear what he had to say. But not now. The meaning would be much duller today. 

So she would play video games, with the man she loving sitting right beside her, and just turn her brain off for a while. 

Considering what she had to wake up and do tomorrow, it was a welcome idea.

 


 

“We should probably talk, huh?”

He watched Sango’s sleeping form jerk out of slumber and almost fall off her perch on the edge of his bed. She caught herself in time, quickly glancing to him to see if he’d noticed, and he’d by this time strategically placed his gaze elsewhere, an easy smile on his face.

“Houshi,” Sango said, and there was such a sweet, loving tone to her voice that he almost forgot himself, but dammit, he wanted answers, so he had to play hardball. Okay, a very mild form of hardball. The easiest, squishiest game of hardball he’d ever played in his life. But still. He was a rock. Unmovable. Well, as unmovable as he could be right now. He was still feeling wonderfully flighty. Light as a bubble. Floating toward the ceiling. Maybe doing a cute little flip once or twice on his way up to the heavens.

Focus, Miroku. You have a conversation that needs having.

“So you’ve had an abusive dad this whole time,” he said, musing it over out loud, his eyes still on the terrible, terrible watercolor painting hanging slightly askew on the wall in front of him.

He felt her flinch back slightly, and then out of the corner of his eye, she nodded mutely.

“Could’ve told me,” he said, surprised at how frustrated he felt even with all these wonderful, wonderful painkilling drugs coursing through him, “We could have swapped stories.”

“You mean you - “ Sango looked horrified.

“Nah, my parents were nice,” he said quietly, “And then they died. The foster homes weren’t great.” He paused and cast a wary eye at her, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “I would have volunteered this information to you freely, you understand. If you’d had half a heart to spill your guts just a little. It’s not like I don’t get it, Sango.”

For once, Sango really and truly looked like she didn’t have anything to say, any excuse to offer, any argument to snap back with. She sat back in her chair, staring at her lap, her hands clasped together. She seemed like she wanted to melt into the floor.

“Please don’t hate me,” she whispered.

“Babe, it’s fine. You’re an abused kid. You’re gonna repress it and act like everything’s fine. Honestly, I was expecting worse. I thought maybe you were an ex-con or there was some mobster boyfriend who kept trying to bring you back in the fold. This is simple. Frustratingly simply. I’m almost mad at myself for not figuring it out earlier.”

He watched as she flicked a tear out of her eye, acting frustrated that it was there in the first place.

There was a moment of silence as he returned his gaze to that god-awful painting in front of him.

“So is he in jail?” he said finally.

Sango sniffled and nodded. “Mom went over there to make her statement a few hours ago. She’s telling them everything. I’m sure they’ll want to talk to both of us too, but Mom insisted on going first. It’s like she’s trying to make up for everything.”

“Sweet of her,” Miroku said. He didn’t feel like volunteering any further analysis on that front.

“And then I’m going to make my statement. And with what I know, I can send him away for at least twenty years, if not more.” Sango gritted her teeth a little and her knuckles turned whiter.

“He’ll have fun in prison,” Miroku said, “I still know a couple people in high places. All I gotta do is drop a few gentle hints, and boom, his life’s a living hell the whole time. That should teach him how to play nice.”

Sango nodded, glaring down at her clenched hands. “I’m done being the weak backslider. I want him to think about me and my mom and my little brother every single day for the rest of his life. I want us to be all he thinks about. And I never want to give him a second thought ever again.”

“That’s my girl.” Miroku couldn’t help it; she was making it difficult for him to lay motionless in this bed and pretend he was even a little angry with her. “And I’ll help you. It’s a hard road, breaking from your abuser. But I’m here for you, okay?”

She looked about ready to cry again. Damn, I am good.

“You - you really don’t have to,” she mumbled, her cheeks growing red as she looked anywhere but his eyes.

“Did I or did I not just get stabbed for you, woman?”

She flinched, and then she sent him an almost scandalized look, like she was surprised at the blunt way he was wording things.

“I think that pretty much answers whether or not I have to, right?” He sent her his most winning smile.

Sango didn’t return it, furrowing her brow, half-confused and half-hurt. “You’ve already done so much, Houshi. I already owe you everything. You don’t need to feel obligated or anything-”

“No, no, I’ll find it within myself to dig you out somehow.” Miroku closed his eyes, unable to keep the self-satisfied smirk off his face.  “Although I’ll keep in mind that you owe me everything. Sounds like something I can take advantage of sometime in the future.”

When he reopened his eyes and looked at her, she had that familiar look of annoyance, eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised, lips pouting. Oh, there you are, you beautiful angel.

Before either of them could say anything more, Sango’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, grimaced, and sighed.

“What’s up?” Miroku tried to crane his neck to see her phone screen, but at the angle she was at it was near impossible.

“The tabloids have started up. They’re going after Kagome hard.” She looked over the text in a hurry and glared. “This latest one’s from our friend Yura. I just knew she couldn’t resist. She’s calling Kagome a homewrecker. And several other choice things. And then in the same breath she says there’s no way to know for sure what the context of Inuyasha and Kagome’s little dinner date was, and that her readers should wait with bated breath, because she’ll share any news as soon as she gets it.” Sango hissed, shaking her head, her eyes blazing. “Gotta love it. Doesn’t care if she ruins a reputation or if the facts are even confirmed before she goes for the jugular. God bless modern journalism, am I right?”

“Any word from our beloved Kikyou?”

“No, she’s staying silent. Guess she’s taking my advice, then.” Sango sighed and replaced her phone in her jacket pocket.

“Maybe she’s learned her lesson after all and she’ll learn to stay out of it?”

The look they both gave each other resembled both a half-smile and a wince.

 


 

Kagome was startled awake by a high-pitched squeal, and as she looked up from her  (rather awkward) curled-up position on Inuyasha’s living room couch, she hazily watched Nazuna clap a hand over her own mouth, eyes wide but with a delighted smile between her fingers. 

“You’re back!” Nazuna whispered, the sound muffled.

Kagome just gave her a sleepy smile and a wink as she held a finger to her lips, glancing over at Inuyasha, who was sprawled over the opposite end of the couch, his head hanging upside-down over the arm. The neglected Nintendo controller was on his chest, untouched since probably around three or four am last night when he’d finally just given up and let himself slump down into sleepyland.

Nazuna grinned and nodded, clearly too excited to hold herself together silently much longer, so she quickly made a bowl-and-spoon motion with her hands, clearly asking if Kagome wanted breakfast.

Kagome nodded and gave a thumbs up as she gingerly sat up on the couch, feeling her back cracking in places that probably weren’t natural, but oh well. Nazuna tiptoed toward the kitchen, and once she crossed the threshold Kagome swore she heard a clap and another loud exclamation. Something sounding like “YES!” but she couldn’t be sure.

She ran a hand over her face, shaking her head slightly to clear the rest of the sleep from her mind as she glanced over at the ridiculous, ungraceful, loudly-snoring, wonderful, gorgeous man on the couch beside her.

Should she wake him? She glanced at her phone. It was around eight am. She had to be up and about and out of the house by nine sharp if she was going to make that photoshoot call at Ayame’s condo.

She decided against it and settled for gently tugging at his ankles (as gently as she could, anyway, he was heavy ) until he was a bit further onto the couch proper, his head cradled by the arm now instead of bent over it. He stirred slightly, then turned onto his side and pressed his face into the leather surface, hugging it like a teddy bear.

Kagome pressed a featherlight kiss to his temple and rose to get all freshened up and ready. Time for another dig through the duffel bag to find a suitable outfit for the day. But then again, that was nothing new for her lately.

 


 

“Apartment number, please, and the security code.” The voice sounded distorted, bored, and tired.

Kagome fumbled in her pocket for her phone, read off the code and the number, and announced herself. There was a few moments’ silence and then the gate opened without another response. She drove through.

Yet another code to punch to get through the gate in front of the condominiums, and then another few moments’ waiting while the door buzzer was answered. Kagome was ushered through to an elevator, which she was told to take straight to the top floor, and that Miss Ayame was expecting her.

She walked hesitantly into a foyer decorated in that typical richie-rich Hollywood style - stark white walls, minimalist accents, a few obviously expensive pieces scattered here and there, clearly meant to spark a conversation or two. 

Kagome sighed. This told her nothing about Ayame’s personality. She’d met the girl for a grand total of half an hour several months ago and Ayame hadn’t seemed to keen to talk to her or even interested in who she was. But then again, perhaps Kagome hadn’t been interested much in who Ayame was at that point. Or even in who I was, really. Ugh, stop, Kagome, we’re getting a little too introspective here.

She shook her head slightly, her wild hair tossing about her shoulders, and then made her way to a nearby couch and sat down, setting her three cumbersome, oversized bags of equipment beside her.

There was about sixty seconds’ worth of awkward, lonely silence, and then there was the distant clacking of high heels on the marble tile, coming from down the long hallway at the end of the room. 

In walked Ayame, wearing a very fashionable tank top and a pair of designer jeans and those sky-high heels that models seemed to eat, sleep, and breathe in. She looked absolutely stunningly gorgeous, like she didn’t have to go to any trouble to catch every eye in a room at any given moment. Kagome once again felt very, very short as she stood up with a friendly smile.

Ayame was looking at her phone screen for a few more seconds before she glanced up at Kagome. Her eyes widened as she seemed to realize who Kagome was. She gave a momentary bewildered glance back down at her phone, then back at Kagome’s face, then back down to her phone. 

Kagome immediately felt her stomach fill with nervous butterflies. Guess Sango wasn’t kidding when she said the tabloids were already going after us. I’m obviously the news of the morning. Great way to start a working relationship here. ‘Oh hi, I’m Kagome, remember me? I’m currently a branch of the most awkward and public love triangle since Brangelina.’

She was just about to try a friendly, “Hello, Ayame, it’s been a while. Nice to see you again,” when Ayame pocketed her phone and spoke first.

“Kagome, right?” The redhead’s smile was wide and dazzling, and for a brief second reminded Kagome of that uncanny ability of her sister’s to charm the world with a flash of white teeth. Ugh, I’m around way too many inhumanly gorgeous people all the time. However do I maintain any sense of self-esteem? “We met at the ‘Blades of Blood and Glory’ premiere a few months ago, didn’t we?”

Kagome silently let out the breath she’d been holding and returned the grin. “We did.”

“And now you get to take my pictures for a few hours until the studio press people get here,” Ayame said with a wink, “I promise to not be too much trouble.”

“I’m sure you’re used to all this,” Kagome said, pulling her notebook out of her ideas, “I was thinking just some simple editorial shots. You looking glamorous and relaxing on your balcony and all that.” That was what the studio had wanted, and frankly, Kagome had no clue what else to do with her.

Was that a look of brief disappointment that crossed Ayame’s face just now? Kagome couldn’t be sure.

“Well,” Ayame said, clasping her hands behind her back, “I guess I’m at your disposal then. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, maybe? I have a new French press I’m dying to show off.”

Kagome accepted, and Ayame clacked off toward her kitchenette, her long red hair streaming behind her.

As she started unpacking the bags and setting up her softbox lighting rigs, Kagome’s eyes fell upon a framed photo on a side table. Ayame and Kouga, leaning against what looked like some sort of bright red Italian supercar, Ayame doing her trademark pouty-lipped half smile, her head on Kouga’s shoulder, as he looked away from the camera most artistically, that familiar smirk on his face.

Kagome frowned and glanced over her shoulder at the girl clattering away in the kitchen, but shrugged and went on her setup work.

Ayame returned momentarily, handed Kagome a mug of delicious-smelling coffee, and sat on the couch with a mug of her own, watching intently but saying nothing.

“This’ll just take a minute,” Kagome assured her, feeling much more awkward than she had only sixty seconds ago.

Ayame smiled and nodded, though there was something sad in her eyes as she seemed to study Kagome’s every move. Kagome sat on her knees on the living room floor, connecting tripods together, checking bulbs, and feeling more self-conscious every minute. Should I say something? That I’m not after Kouga whatsoever, that I never was? Would that even make her feel better? How exclusive were they, anyway?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ayame said, stirring her coffee, her gaze drifting over to the photo in the corner, “And no, I’m not angry if you and Kouga ever…” She trailed off, her eyes falling to the black surface of her coffee as she continued stirring.

“We didn’t,” Kagome said, stopping short and snapping her head to face Ayame, “I swear to you. We went as friends to the HFA’s, and that was it. I know you might have seen me on Yura’s show, and I promise you that was all clever editing.” 

She sighed and decided for the sake of her own dignity she would go ahead and spill to this girl, because why the hell not, the whole world was starting to figure it out anyway.

“I’m sure you’ve read some of the gossip blogs as of last night and this morning.”

Ayame turned a little pink and gave a sheepish nod.

“Well,” Kagome said, tightening the last of her tripods into position, “For once, they’ve got it right. Well, half of it anyway. Inuyasha and I are...well…”

Ayame’s eyes were now the size of teacup saucers. “So you - and he - oh my gosh!

“Yep.” Kagome honestly was surprised that she felt a little better now. Admitting it was indeed the first step. All those crazy therapy gurus were right after all.

“So you and Kouga aren’t - weren’t - actually a thing?” Ayame looked confused and not a little bruised by all this. “From what he told me, he was super into you. Said you were the most interesting girl he’d ever met.”

Geez, Kouga, what an asshole thing to say to a girl who’s clearly got it bad for you. Ugh, who am I kidding, you probably didn’t even notice she’d caught feelings. Kagome clenched her jaw. “I’m sure he was exaggerating,” was all she could think to say.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Ayame said, crossing her fabulous legs and sinking backward into her chair, shoulders hunched, “He and I were never...well...he made it clear he wasn’t looking for a relationship, and in the beginning I wasn’t either, but then…” 

She glanced up at Kagome, cheeks reddening again, and then looked away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be talking your ear off with all this. I mean, I thought I’d feel better if I heard from you that nothing happened, but…”

Ayame then placed her coffee mug on the table beside her, leaned forward and put her head in her palms. “But it actually makes me feel a little worse.”

“Hey,” Kagome said, reaching out to pat Ayame’s knee very awkwardly, stumbling over her words, “If he doesn’t realize what a great girl you are, then you don’t need him. You’re Ayame , for crying out loud. You’re a Victoria’s Secret Angel. And who is he?”

“The funniest, craziest man I ever met,” Ayame said, tears springing to those perfect green eyes of hers, “I never had as much fun as I did when we were together.”

Girl, you weren’t supposed to answer that. You do have it bad. Kagome made a mental note to kick Kouga in the nads the next time she saw him.

“Hey, cheer up. It’ll all be okay, one way or another, right?” Kagome sent the other girl a comforting smile and wished she could think of more to say than just tired old cliches right now.

Ayame hesitated, then nodded, wiping her eyes. “Sorry,” she said, “Now you’ll have a photoshoot with a girl all red-eyed and puffy. Blech.”

“Don’t even worry about it. Hair, wardrobe, and makeup are on their way. I just wanted to get a chance to chat before we got started. I’m new to this whole editorial portrait stuff, but I thought it was best to have a friendly conversation so we’re more comfortable with each other.”

Ayame smiled. “Some of the print photogs I work with could take a few notes from you.”

Kagome returned the smile. “Or I just suck at this. Guess we’ll find out?”

That got her a laugh.

“Well,” Kagome said, standing up, “Where would you like to shoot? What’s your favorite room in the house?”

Ayame’s laughter died in her throat and she was back to being bright red in the face. There was a pause. “Uh...the living room! Right here!”

Kagome looked around at the sparse decor, the lack of any real personal touches, and then bored a stare into Ayame’s face, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“If you’re sure…” Kagome said, “Well, before we get started, where’s your bathroom so I can wash my hands before I start messing around with my camera lenses?”

Ayame pointed down the hallway. “Last door on the right. I guess I’ll go grab a few cucumber slices for my eyes before the cavalry gets here.” She clacked back toward the kitchen.

Kagome quickly washed her hands, dried them with a towel, and opened the bathroom door very, very quietly, peering out to see if Ayame was in sight. The sounds of the fridge door opening and closing, and a kitchen chair being pulled into place, told her Ayame was still preoccupied.

Knowing she shouldn’t be doing this, but hey, fuck it, Kagome tiptoed across the hallway and opened the last door on the left.

Her eyes widened as she took in the room’s contents. It wasn’t a bedroom like she’d suspected, but more of a rec room. And oh, goodness, was it a sight to behold.

Kagome couldn’t help the mischievous grin as she silently closed the door again and returned to the living room.

The hair, wardrobe, and makeup people arrived about five minutes later. The wardrobe woman was clearly holding several fantastic-looking full-length designer ensembles for Kagome and Ayame to pick and choose from.

Ayame pulled the cucumber slices from her eyes and started toward the outfits, looking a little downtrodden but clearly prepared to do her job to the best of her ability.

“Hey, Ayame,” Kagome said casually, “I have a different idea for today’s shoot. Let me know what you think.”

She told her, and Ayame at first looked scandalized, then embarrassed, then a little hopeful. “I mean, it’s very, very different. Do you think the studio would approve?”

“Right now,” Kagome said, checking her battery power, “I don’t give a damn what the studio approves or not. They asked for me as the photographer, they got me. And I think we should go this route. Something different. Something actually interesting. Or do you want to sit around in this living room in evening gowns again?”

Ayame’s smile was, once again, dazzling. “No, no,” she said, “Your idea is way more fun.”

Chapter 56: Left With Mirror Girl

Summary:

In which Kagome is compared to a pie, everyone gets ready for the Golden Globes, and Kagome gets a very peculiar plus-one for the evening.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty-Six

Left With Mirror Girl

 

"What are you doing later?"

Kagome sighed. "Let's not."

"What?"

She turned a wary eye towards Hiten, who was posing in front of a white background, his hands casually in his jean pockets, giving her a hopeful and seductive glance.

"Let's." Camera flash. "Fucking." Camera flash. "Not."

 


 

"Hey, Kagome," Sango said, "How were the photoshoots?"

"Ugh, don't ask. Why the hell do Hollywood guys only notice anyone if they suddenly have tabloid name recognition? Is it some sort of game they all play, trying to steal each other's girlfriends?"

"Hiten gave you trouble, then?" Sango pulled aside the hospital room blinds, looking down at the parking garages below in only mild interest.

"And Bankotsu Shichi too! I thought they were all kinda sorta friends with each other!"

"They are," Sango said, a smirk rising to her lips as she glanced over her shoulder at Miroku, who was in his hospital bed deeply absorbed in his reality TV with that damn teddy bear still sitting on top of his head (she'd set it there as a joke when he'd fallen asleep a few hours ago, but he clearly wasn't minding it at all). "It's all a power play with them. Like whipping someone with a towel in a locker room. Everyone wants to be top dog, and that's Inuyasha right now, so they try to muscle in a little for a piece of the pie."

"The pie being me in this situation."

"Maybe I could have worded that better."

"No, it's fine, I got you. It's just...ugh."

"Well, if it improves your mood any, our dresses arrived this morning right on time, so we're right on schedule to start getting ready at Inuyasha's in a bit. Warner's sending us hair and makeup people, too. Guess he wants all of us looking like shiny new pennies tonight."

"How kind of him." The sarcasm practically radiated through the phone line.

Sango's phone beeped. Another call. "Speak of Satan himself," she grumbled to Kagome, "I'd better take this. See you in a few."

"Tell him he's got a huge fat ass!"

Sango smirked and switched the line over. "Sango Ryoshi."

"Sango, my dear! I take it everything's going smoothly over there in preparation for the Globes tonight? You remember this is our last chance to make an impression on the Oscar voters, right? The nominations close tonight at midnight."

I don't need you to tell me that. I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, you pompous -

"Of course, sir. We're all ready to roll out with our red carpet plans. And the studio afterparty is good to go as well."

"And my two stars?"

"Just fine. They're bringing along their charity plus-ones. Such a great idea, sir. Using the platform of the Golden Globes to highlight the less-fortunate in our communities. The press will love it!"

She glanced over at Miroku, who had averted his eyes from the television to give her a disgusted look, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. She waved him off and turned back to the window. Miroku was distracting her.

"I know they will. Kagome is going with them as well, yes?"

"Of course, sir." Sango rubbed her eye with one hand and leaned her forehead against the window glass.

"How did her photoshoots go today? I want them sent to the press as soon as possible."

"Don't worry, sir. Kagome knows what's expected. I'm sure she's already sent everything their way."

"Make sure to get tons of photos of the three of them on the red carpet today. Understood?"

You don't have to tell me this shit, I know how to do my goddamn job you tub of lard -

"Absolutely, sir. See you tonight."

"What are you wearing?"

UGH. Sango suppressed a shudder as she pictured his face curling into a lecherous grin.

"Um...Givenchy, sir."

"I'm sure you'll look radiant. Until tonight, then, Sango." And he hung up without another word.

Sango turned back around to see Miroku's face still stuck in that look of outraged repulsion.

"You know, if you keep it up your face will get stuck that way." She pocketed her phone.

"You gave him credit for my idea?" He looked positively scandalized. If his arm weren't in a sling to keep him from jarring his wound, he probably would have done some dramatic, say-it-ain't-so pose.

"Of course I did," Sango said, folding her arms and coming to sit at the foot of the bed facing him, "How else would I get him to agree to Inuyasha and Kikyou not walking the carpet as a couple, unless he was under the impression that he'd thought of it?"

"How on earth did you even plant the idea into his head?" Miroku was staring at her like she'd grown a second head.

"I mentioned offhand in the middle of a conversation about how great Kikyou was that a few B-listers are bringing some Boys and Girls Club kids as their dates. Casual, like. And then it was a matter of sitting back and waiting for him to think the idea was his own. Boom, done."

"You're a fucking rock star," Miroku said after a moment, an almost serene smile on his face. With his good arm, he took her hand and pulled her up the bed toward him.

"Like you didn't already know that," Sango said, nestling her head under his, content to just take a minute and relax before the world exploded in flashbulbs and designer gowns once again.

"Wish I could come with you," Miroku grumbled, glancing down at the sling over his arm, "but that nurse is a hell of a dictator."

"Don't worry," Sango said, leaning up to kiss him chastely, "You won't be missing anything but Kikyou being a bitch, Inuyasha and Kagome trying everything to keep from acting like a married couple in public, and possibly me having to kick the ass of one Randall Warner if he doesn't stop acting like I'm some sort of cut of meat on his plate."

"Stop it." His tone was almost petulant as he frowned down at her. "You're making it sound even more fun. I'm getting jealous."

 


 

"You're home!"

As she walked through the front door, Kagome was engulfed by Inuyasha's arms and nearly dropped her camera equipment. "Whoa there," she said, laughing as she shrugged off her bags gently and returned the embrace, thinking to herself how much she liked the sound of this being 'home.'

"How did the shoots go? Was Ayame - "

"She was fantastic. A real sweetheart. And you won't believe what she's got in her condo. I never would have guessed it in a million years."

"Are you gonna tell me," Inuyasha smirked, "Or are you going to make me read the article?"

"Speaking of which," Kagome said, ducking under his arms, "I bet it's been posted! That blogger, reporter, whatever she was, was typing a mile a minute when she was talking to Ayame. Let's go see!" She took off toward the study, pausing only to kick off her boots, then sliding along the tile at a full clip.

He caught up to her almost immediately, wrapping a single arm around her waist and lifting her bodily from the ground, bracing her weight against him as he stumbled further down the hallway. Kagome gave a delighted shriek as her legs flew out from under her, and she clung to Inuyasha's forearm as he awkwardly paraded both of them into the study.

"Dammit, woman," he was saying, "You just got home and I've been waiting for you all day and you just scurry off without even a kiss hello?"

He set her down in front of the computer, feigning a very grumpy face as he leaned over the back of the chair.

"Awww, I'm sorry," Kagome said, knowing that her face was flushing pink again as she reached up and kissed him, "I know I'm the worst."

"I'll never forgive you," he said, knocking his forehead gently against hers with a smirk and leaning down for one more peck before reaching across and clicking the computer on.

Kagome did a quick search, and there it was. Right at the top of the page. She saw the image splash and recognized her work, and couldn't help the small tingling in her spine at the thought that her photos were published, online, in an actual article for everyone to see. Even if they were celebrity photos, that was still quite different from just sharing them on Instagram for likes and comments.

"Wait a second," Inuyasha's face appeared next to hers, his eyes narrowed as if he wasn't sure he was seeing correctly, "Is that a giant wrestling ring? In her house?"

Ayame was standing there, in a skimpy sports bra and shorts, a towel draped over her shoulders. She had smokey eye makeup and dark lips, her long red hair teased like a lion's mane around her. Behind her was a literal wall-to-wall display of wrestling action figures and replica title belts.

"Did they mention - " Kagome knew she was talking more to herself than anyone as she scrolled through the article, "They did! The writer made sure to say the stuff was all hers! I swear, Inuyasha, that girl's the biggest wrestling fan I've ever seen. She has everything you could think of. Apparently her dad was a pro wrestler in the eighties, and she grew up in his gym, so she can actually do a ton of stuff. Here, look."

The next shot was a kinetic one of Ayame in the middle of a standing backflip.

"Holy shit," Inuyasha said, his eyes wide, "How did she keep her face normal? Like, she looks amazingly good. Who looks hot in the middle of a flip?"

"Apparently it's called a moonsault in wrestling. But I know, right?" Kagome said with a laugh. "Obviously she's a hell of a supermodel. I think if they want her to look good on camera in the movies she'll be just fine."

"I never would have guessed. I just thought she was another Victoria's Secret girl. Good for arm candy, but not too interested in anything past her own face." Inuyasha rubbed the back of his neck.

"And I take it you've known quite a few of those Victoria's Secret girls in the months we were apart? After you and Kikyou broke up?" Kagome grinned and nudged at him playfully.

Inuyasha scoffed. "Not me, personally. But you have to remember, sweetheart, I was hanging out with Kouga Okami and his goons that whole time. I paid attention."

"You were just too hung up over me to grab yourself a hot model, huh? That had to be it. You were just dreaming of me the whole time."

She was teasing, and she was sure he knew she was teasing, but she saw his smile falter, and he turned to look at her with something unreadable in his eyes.

Before she could say anything, utter any sort of awkward apology, she heard the front door open again, and what sounded like a whole flock of people walking into the foyer.

 


 

"Hey, you two," Sango said, stopping quickly to remove her sunglasses and stash them in her purse before returning her attentions to the throng of hair and makeup people following in her wake.

"Let's set up in the living room, and we can have everyone dress in the bedrooms. Makes for more space, so we're all not just climbing all over each other." She gave a bemused glance at the palacial entryway and seemed to laugh at her own private joke as everyone rushed to do her bidding.

A stout older woman was pushing a wheeled garment rack down the hallway, and Kagome rushed to give her a hand as Inuyasha stood there, watching people fly around him, and thought how badly he needed a drink.

"What are you still doing here?" Sango said when she looked up from her notebook full of lists and saw him doing his best deer-in-the-headlights impression, "Go shower. We need to get that hair of yours blow-dried, and you know how long that's going to take."

Inuyasha knew when to do as he was told, especially given the clear stress all over Sango's face. But something also told him she was loving every minute of it, even when she had to answer three simultaneous phone calls while also signing off on a flower delivery to one Kikyou Higurashi's house, courtesy of Randall Warner and Sunrise Studios.

 


 

"Alright, alright," Kagome said testily over the sounds of snickering from everyone else in the room, "Yak it up, you guys. It was a nightmare."

She was sitting, draped in a simple satin bathrobe, in front of a hastily-set-up vanity table as a girl applied black and gold eyeshadow to her closed lids. Her hair was damp, hanging loosely down her back.

Across the room, she could hear Sango (who was currently getting her hair done into a loose chiffon with braided accents, how chic) still laughing into her hand before saying, "Poor sweet Kagome. Just has all of Hollywood suddenly pining for her."

"I didn't say that!" Kagome felt her cheeks burn as she fought the urge to open her eyes and glare at the other girl. "I said it was just Hiten. And Bankotsu Shichi. That was it."

"Don't forget Kouga," Sango said.

"I wish I could forget Kouga," Kagome heard Inuyasha grumble. "But hey, Kiddo, take it all in stride. You're the most beautiful woman I know. It was only a matter of time before everyone else noticed."

Dammit, Inuyasha, I'm sitting here getting my makeup done and I know the makeup girl can see how red my face is. Kagome let out a small sigh with the effort to remain still, but couldn't help the twitch of a smile on her lips.

"Can I get anyone anything?" She heard Nazuna's voice.

"Whiskey! Oh god, please, whiskey. And a cigarette." Inuyasha sounded like a kid ordering a Happy Meal.

"Whiskey, yes, cigarette, no," Sango interjected sternly, "I am not having that smoke smell in my hair for an hours-long awards ceremony. Or in yours, for that matter."

"You smoke, too," Inuyasha protested grumpily. He was getting his hair brushed, so he couldn't get out of his chair for at least a few more minutes. Getting that mane of his red-carpet-ready was almost a job in itself.

"No I don't," Sango said smoothly, closing the subject, "Nazuna, if you have any white wine or champagne…?"

"Okay," Kagome heard Nazuna say, "What about you, Miss Kagome?"

"Beer, please!"

"I should have known." She heard snickers as Nazuna walked out of the room.

Finally, she was able to open her eyes, and the makeup girl moved on to the rest of her face.

"Here, a toast," Sango said when Nazuna brought the drinks, holding her glass aloft, "To the Golden Globes, and to Oscar nominations closing tonight. We're almost done, guys. We did it."

Both Inuyasha and Kagome raised their glasses as well. "I just wish Miroku was here," Kagome said, "You know he'd be three whiskeys deep by now and flirting with Sango so much she wouldn't be able to get her hair done."

Sango blushed, but smiled and shrugged in agreement.

"Hey, his suit's hanging in the closet, ready for the Oscars," Inuyasha said, "And we get to tease him about how much fun we're gonna have tonight, right?"

"Oh, don't worry," Sango said, taking a sip of her wine, "I've already started."

The doorbell rang, and Nazuna sprang to answer it from her perch on one of the couches.

"Look who's here!" Sango's tone indicated that they should all turn on the charm, and turn on the charm Inuyasha did, like clockwork.

The makeup girl stepped away dutifully, and Kagome sent her a smile and a wink as she stood up to greet the guests coming through the threshold.

"This is Mayu," Sango was saying, her hands on the shoulders of a girl of about thirteen or fourteen. The girl was small and skinny, her hair pulled into small pigtails at the nape of her neck, and she was looking around with that all-too-familiar deer-in-the-headlights look that always came with first entry into one of these obscenely wealthy LA homes. "Mayu, this is Inuyasha Takahashi."

"I know," Mayu said softly, her eyes the size of dinner plates. She began awkwardly fidgeting with her hands as Inuyasha stood up from his seat and crossed toward her.

"Inuyasha," Sango said, "This is Mayu. She's here because she made a wish."

"And I'm going to make sure it comes true," said Inuyasha with a glowing smile as he approached. Kagome could watch in real time just how he could make people melt with a look. Of course, she'd known that already, but it was still quite the thing to watch. She realized her heart was pounding and that she was staring, so she quickly shook herself out of it as Inuyasha offered Mayu his hand to shake.

"Can I -" Mayu had her hands over her mouth to hide her nervous grin, "Can I hug you instead?"

Inuyasha's smile widened and he picked her up under her arms and gave her a full-on hug, complete with a happy, excited, friendly growl. Mayu laughed delightedly, that combination of star-struck and overjoyed and freaking out and just genuinely happy.

"Mayu," Sango said, clearly unable to keep the grin off her own face, "This is Kagome."

"Kikyou Higurashi's sister!" Mayu gasped again and looked Kagome up and down like she wasn't sure if this was real.

"Yep, that's me," Kagome said, giving a small wave from her position a few feet back. "It's so nice to meet you, Mayu."

Mayu smiled at her, then seemed to look past her, as if looking for someone else. Kagome caught Sango's eye for an instant, then smiled warmly at the young girl once more. Keep it together, girl. No one said any of this would be easy.

"Mayu," Sango said quickly, sweeping in and taking the girl by her shoulders, "We've got your red carpet dress all ready to go, and you're getting your hair and makeup done just like a star. Because tonight, you are a star!"

Mayu looked genuinely thrilled as Sango led her away and got her situated. "Kagome," Sango called over her shoulder, "I'd also like you to meet Kanna."

Kagome turned around to find a pale-haired young girl staring at her sagely.

"My name is Kanna," the little girl said, with not a single change of expression, "I'm dying of cancer so you have to be nice to me."

Kagome blinked for a moment, then forced a smile. "How about I just choose to be nice to you instead? Kanna, huh? That's a beautiful name."

"It means 'God of Nothingness,'" Kanna said, her dark eyes drifting up to look around the foyer with a sort of detached acknowledgment.

Kagome really had no idea what to say, so she twiddled her thumbs behind her back and changed the subject. "How old are you, Kanna?"

"Thirteen." She looked years younger. The cancer had clearly stunted her growth somewhat.

"So you're in eighth grade?"

Kanna's gaze returned to Kagome, looking bored (or was that just her face?) with this line of questioning. "I finished high school last year."

"O-oh," Kagome said, rolling with it as best she could, "Well, you must be very smart then! It really is great to meet you. I'm sure we'll have a ton of fun tonight, okay?"

"Maybe." Kanna's gaze drifted elsewhere again.

Okay, the Mayu kid's a little bit of a Kikyou fan, I get that, but what on earth is this melancholy kid doing with me? I think she's bored of me already.

"So why did you pick me tonight? For your wish?" Kagome said, ignoring Inuyasha, who seemed to be holding his hand over his mouth for fear of bursting into uncontrollable laughter from his perch at the vanity table.

"I didn't," Kanna said, looking Kagome dead in the eyes, "but a red carpet is a red carpet, right?"

There was a snort from Inuyasha that he immediately turned into a cough. Kagome wanted to glare at him, but Kanna was studying her face very closely.

"It's okay, though," Kanna continued, "You have a nice face. Very honest eyes. I don't hate you like I thought I would."

Inuyasha got up from the vanity table. His cough had apparently returned. "Excuse me for just a minute," he choked out, his face red with the effort to keep his expression straight. He stumbled off down the hallway, the coughs fading out and turning into almost maniacal belly-laughs as soon as he thought he was out of earshot. He wasn't.

Kanna, however, took no outward note of this, and held Kagome's gaze in silence as Kagome struggled, once again, with something to say. How the hell do you respond to that? Do I say, "Thank you?"

The click-clack of super-tall heels heralded Sango's return to the room. "Okay," she said, clasping her hands and walking up to Kanna, "Now that we've got Mayu all set up with her red-carpet treatment, it's your turn, kiddo. Why don't you come with me and we'll decide how you want your hair done?"

"Beauty is meaningless. I have no preferences."

Sango took it in stride, because she was paid to do it and she was damn good at her job. "Great! Your red carpet team will love getting to surprise you!"

When Sango returned, she asked where Inuyasha was.

"In the game room, probably still laughing his ass off," Kagome said, "Where did you find that kid? This can't have been her wish. To be on a red carpet."

"No," Sango admitted sheepishly, "She wanted a sensory deprivation chamber and a roomful of mirrors. The foundation gently suggested we do this stuff first."

"Is she still getting that stuff?"

"Yes, but after the fact. Warner made sure Kikyou got her biggest fangirl, and then Mayu was an Inuyasha fan."

"So I get left with Mirror Girl."

"I mean," Sango said awkwardly, "That little girl's wish was so weird no one else would touch it. Hence the reason she agreed to come out with us on such short notice. But hey, maybe she'll have fun despite herself?"

Kagome knew she didn't look sure, and Sango answered her look with a reassuring shoulder squeeze. "Not to worry," she said, "Just a few hours. Then the Oscar noms are announced tomorrow and we can all relax for a hot minute."

 


 

"So, Mayu," Inuyasha offered his young charge a champagne flute filled with sparkling grape juice, "What's your favorite subject in school?"

"Theatre class!" Mayu answered eagerly, "I want to be an actor when I grow up too!"

"Then this red carpet is practice, huh?" Inuyasha grinned, "For when you hit the big time and start the rest of us running for our money?"

Kagome couldn't help feeling a little jealous as she sat across from them, smiling, with Kanna quietly ignoring them all and staring out the limousine window. Inuyasha was always so good at this, so easy-going, able to get people comfortable and liking him within seconds.

Sango, in the middle of a phone call to god-knows-who, paused to clear her throat and nod her head at Kagome, her eyes flitting to the silent young girl, who was tracing an expressionless face over her own expressionless reflection in the window glass.

Kagome got the hint, so she decided to try again, as Inuyasha and Mayu's conversation continued in the background.

"Hey, Kanna," she said a little hesitantly, "Is there anyone tonight you'd particularly like to meet? Maybe someone I can try and introduce you to?"

"Not really," Kanna said, not turning around, "Celebrity is a strange concept to me. I don't comprehend why some people are considered better than others."

Inuyasha was talking to Mayu, but Kagome just knew he was listening, because he shot her a mirthful glance that made her want to smack him upside the head.

"Well, uh-"

"Like your sister, for example."

Sango's head shot up and she stared at Kagome, eyes wide, speechless.

Kagome softly folded her hands in her lap. "What do you mean?"

Kanna turned around in her seat, staring straight ahead. "I see the magazine covers. Everyone says she's the nicest, most beautiful person who ever lived. Like she's some sort of perfect woman."

Kagome remained silent.

"But I disagree."

"What do you mean, you disagree?" Mayu piped up, looking a little outraged. The fangirl is strong in this one.

"I don't think she's perfect," Kanna said simply, "And I don't think she's very nice at all."

"You don't even know her!" Mayu said, her small hands curling into fists in her lap, "And would Inuyasha want to be with her if she wasn't a wonderful person?"

Inuyasha's eyes darted to Kagome's. His face was still passive, but there was a small twitch in his eyes that displayed his clear discomfort. Kagome could just give him her most reassuring smile and remain quiet.

"I don't like her eyes," Kanna said with a small shrug as she returned her gaze to the city lights outside.

Mayu still looked indignant. "I want to apologize for Kanna," she said, rolling her eyes, "She's so out of touch she doesn't even realize that insulting someone in front of their boyfriend and sister is rude."

Kanna didn't look the least bit perturbed by the comment.

Inuyasha cleared his throat. "No harm, no foul," he said, and that grin was back on his face. Sango looked like she'd been forgetting how to inhale and exhale for a moment as she leaned back in her seat.

They finally pulled up to the red carpet and got out. Sango first, then Kagome, then Kanna, and then Inuyasha with Mayu's hand in his. Amidst all the waving and smiling and yelling, Kagome found herself awkwardly walking next to the small, pale girl dressed all in black as they proceeded past the velvet ropes.

"You can hold my hand if it makes you more comfortable," Kanna said, "I don't have any flesh-eating bacteria or leprosy. As far as I know."

Kagome looked down at her and almost stopped walking for a second. "Hang on," she said, "Was that a joke, Kanna?"

"Perhaps," the small girl replied in her emotionless tone, "Or I suppose I could be just trying to make you comfortable so I can give you a contagious disease. One of the two."

Kagome burst out laughing, a most unbecoming cackle of pure abandon. Not great for red carpets, but there was really no helping it.

She felt Kanna's hand slip into hers.

 


 

"Inuyasha!"

"Inuyasha, over here!"

"Inuyasha!"

It was a constant, pounding drone in his head as he kept his grip on Mayu's hand and smiled for the cameras.

Little Mayu, of course, seemed to be loving it, waving excitedly to every television camera she saw. Inuyasha could only barely remember the last time he'd been actually excited to do a red carpet. It had been about two-and-a-half years ago. He and Kikyou had just gotten engaged and had walked the entire carpet clinging to each other like lovesick teenagers.

As if on instinct, he turned his head and looked back briefly at Kagome. After a brief and friendly reunion with Ayame a few moments ago (he had noted that Ayame was conspicuously dateless tonight), she and Kanna were standing talking to what looked like that Fashion Police show. Kagome was chatting animatedly, and if Inuyasha hadn't known her like the back of his own hand, he would never have guessed how awkward and uncomfortable she felt at these things. Kanna was just staring at the interviewer with a gaze that could bore through steel, but her hand was firmly in Kagome's.

It was an odd sensation, wasn't it, the way one's heart could just pound like a schoolboy's when it came to the right woman?

"Inuyashaaaaa!"

His head snapped back around and he tried not to sigh too audibly. He knew that singsong voice anywhere.

Good old Yura, beckoning him over.

"Just get it over with," Sango said, appearing suddenly behind his shoulder like some sort of fucking magical advice fairy, "Quick and easy. Like ripping off a Band-Aid."

"Where's Kikyou, anyway?" Inuyasha said quietly, "Did she get here early? That doesn't sound like her."

"Honestly," Sango said, looking down at her phone with an irritated expression, "I have no idea. No one's answering my texts, not even Hojo. That kid's gonna have a shitload to answer for when I get ahold of him later. Maybe she's already inside. Or maybe they're stuck in traffic."

"Maybe." Inuyasha wasn't sure, and he knew he certainly didn't look sure.

"It's the Globes," Sango said, "She'll be here. She can't resist it, right?" And she walked off, the little busy bee hovering off to her next flower.

Inuyasha glanced down at Mayu, who clearly was too enraptured at all the sights and sounds around her to be paying much attention.

Then Kagome and Kanna caught up to them. That beautiful smile was still on Kagome's face, but it was clearly just for the cameras as the flashes went off all around them and the crowd's uproar got louder.

"Where is she?" Kagome said. Clearly the same questions had been running through her head.

"No idea," Inuyasha said, and he truly began in earnest to feel uneasy. "Something's rotten in Denmark."

"What do you mean?"

Oh, now Mayu is paying attention.

"Uh -"

"It's a quote from Shakespeare," Kanna said serenely, "Perhaps you should try reading something other than 'Tiger Beat,' Mayu." All this with a tone like she was sincerely giving constructive advice. This Kanna kid is a pistol.

Mayu glared at Kanna and opened her mouth to reply, and once again Sango the fairy godmother saw her expression and appeared to whisk them off to take photos with Warner (poor kids).

Kagome let her smile slip for just a moment as she leaned in a little closer. "There's no way she'd miss the Globes," she said softly, as if reassuring herself, "She won't sacrifice her Oscar chances just to -"

"Inuyashaaaaa! Kagoooooome! Over here!"

Kagome glanced over in surprise, then forced her smile back onto her face. "Oh god, I made eye contact," she said through her teeth.

"It's okay, Kiddo. We got this. Ten bucks to whoever gives the worst, most boring answer to any of her stupid fucking questions."

Kagome gave a small laugh that sounded more like a resigned sigh, and they headed over to Yura.

 


 

"Houshi?" Sango immediately turned away from Warner and the make-a-wish kids (who were both clearly posing very hesitantly with this obviously creepy executive) and put her hand around the receiver to muffle the sound a bit, "I'm working. I get it, you're bored, but I'll call you later, okay?"

"Babe, listen to me. Get Inuyasha and Kagome off the red carpet. Now. You've got an atom bomb on your hands, and it's about to explode."

"What the hell are you-"

"Kikyou's gone rogue. Big time."

"No she hasn't, I would have fucking killed her and she knows it. She's playing ball. She wants that Oscar."

"She was playing ball because she was ready to screw us all over, Sango. Get them off the carpet. A-S-A-F-P. Whatever you have to do."

"What's happened?"

"Action first, words later. Go, Sango. Do it. Trust me, Kikyou has the upper hand right now."

Sango hung up the phone and just stared at it for a moment.

"Everything okay, Sango?" Warner asked.

"Just fine, sir," she said smoothly, turning around and scanning the walkway for Inuyasha and Kagome.

They were about thirty feet away, talking to Yura Kaminoke.

Sango felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.

"Holy...fucking...shit," she whispered.

No way.

 

Chapter 57: Poison Pen Narcissist

Summary:

In which Kikyou's vengeance rears its ugly head.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Poison Pen Narcissist

 

"Hello, you two! So good to see you again!" Yura motioned Inuyasha and Kagome to the marks she wanted them to stand on.

"Hello, Yura. Enjoying the night?" Inuyasha asked politely.

"Tremendously!" Yura said, her long red fingernails looking like talons as she tapped her microphone once and then said her standard intro into the camera.

"So, Kagome, tell us, what are you wearing tonight?"

"It's Prada," Kagome said, putting her hands into the pockets as the camera did its old familiar up-and-down motion to show off her dress. The things people are interested in, I swear.

"It's lovely is what it is!" Yura turned to Inuyasha. "Doesn't your sister-in-law look lovely tonight, Inuyasha?"

Inuyasha blinked, then replied. His voice was calm, deathly calm, even, but Kagome could hear the hint of steel in his tone.

"She's not my sister-in-law, Yura. We all know this, right?"

Yura laughed. Inuyasha allowed a small chuckle. Kagome just smiled blankly like an idiot.

"Then what should we call her?" Yura giggled, laying a hand on Kagome's arm, "Besides the belle of the ball, of course! What do you think, Inuyasha?"

Kagome dared not look up at Inuyasha's face, because she knew she'd see him starting to really get angry and hiding it behind an even wider grin.

"Kagome is my best friend in the entire world," she heard him grind out through his teeth, "How's that?"

"Hmmm," Yura said, raising a pencil-thin eyebrow and seeming to think it over, "I suppose that works for now, right?"

Kagome was feeling a little confused. Okay, a lot confused. Best to just keep smiling and get through it.

"How's your sister doing, Kagome? I know how close the two of you are. What was her red-carpet ritual like today, and how does it compare to yours?"

Um, I haven't seen her in weeks. Why don't you ask her, you crazy poison pen narcissist?

"I think she's doing okay," Kagome said diplomatically, "She always loves red carpet events. Getting to meet her fans. She cares about looking and feeling her best on nights like this!"

She allowed herself a glance up at Inuyasha and the corners of his smiling mouth were twitching a little. I think I'm winning the bet for worst answer to a question, Jerkface. Better pay up that ten bucks.

Yura's smile widened as well, and then her face took on a confused, concerned look. "You mean you don't know?"

 


 

"Come on, kids," Sango said brightly, taking both Mayu and Kanna by the hands and half-marching, half-dragging them along as she closed the distance between herself and Yura's interview setup, "We should all get inside so we can get you guys a good seat in the front, near the stage!"

"I would have thought we'd have reserved seats," Mayu pouted, looking up at Sango questioningly.

"Oh, we do," Sango said, only partially listening, "But still! Think of it like an airplane. The first class guests always go sit down first, right?"

She wasn't sure if Mayu accepted her bullshit story, but she knew Kanna probably knew better. Thankfully, the pale-haired girl was walking along and staying silent, aside from a very quiet whispered comment that sounded something like, "Rotten in Denmark."

"Sango! Come back for a moment."

Damn you, Warner. Damn you to hell.

"I'll be right back!" she called over her shoulder, "Just gotta reunite these two with their red carpet buddies for the night, right guys?"

Mayu nodded. Kanna just looked up at her blankly. Come on, goth kid, back me up here!

"Hold off on that," Warner said, "I need a word." His tone said right now and don't make me wait.

Sango gave a frantic glance back at Inuyasha and Kagome, who were looking at something on Yura's phone…

"Sango?"

"Coming!" She turned on her heel and walked back, fighting the urge to scream like a banshee with frustration.

 


 

"Know what?" Kagome asked, looking legitimately concerned for a hot second, "Did something happen?"

"Oh, something happened, all right," Yura replied to Kagome, but her entire attention seemed to be on Inuyasha. She was staring at him with a stern, solemn expression, and it was, frankly, making him feel more uneasy with each passing second. "Suffice it to say she'll be a little late arriving tonight."

Then Yura spoke again.

"So tonight, on the red carpet, we're having everyone play a little game! We've got Instagram stories of a few attendees tonight getting ready for the Globes, and your job is to guess who it is before we reveal their face!"

Great. Fluff pieces. Inuyasha ground his teeth together and tried to look interested.

"Is my sister -" Kagome started to ask, but then seemed to think better of it and shook it off as Yura pulled up the first video on her phone and held it up for them to watch.

Someone doing a morning workout. Fists flying in and out of frame to punch a huge sandbag, followed intermittently by some very, very long legs offering up powerful kicks.

"Oh, that's Ayame!" Kagome said with a fond smile, looking up at Yura, "Did I guess right?"

"Correct!" Yura said, motioning toward her crew to no doubt put a little splash page on the televised image. Probably some sort of ding-ding-ding and a check mark. Inuyasha fought the urge to scoff. "Okay, next one!"

Inuyasha correctly guessed Kouga from the ashtray in the corner stuffed to the brim with cigarette butts. Kagome was able to identify a few of them, but was laughingly out of her element. The atmosphere was starting to chill out again, even though this game was inherently ridiculous.

"Okay, last video. You two should definitely know this one!"

Oh, shit.

Inuyasha felt Kagome unconsciously inch a little closer to him as her eyes met his. He saw, for the first time in a long while, fear.

Yura pulled up the video and hit the play button, her eyes darting back and forth between him and Kagome the entire time.

It was the back of a head of long, straight black hair, getting brushed and styled.

"That's Kikyou," Kagome said quickly, but Yura didn't motion for the graphic again, just held the phone stock still.

The camera slowly panned around to reveal Kikyou's face in the mirror's reflection.

She was quietly sobbing into a kleenex, her face completely devoid of makeup for the first time Inuyasha could remember in a long, long time.

Inuyasha felt Kagome realize what was happening all at once, and she instinctively tried to step back and turn away, stopped only by his hand at her back. You can't turn away and look like you've got something to be ashamed of, Kiddo. We've got to stand here and face this fucking bitch of a woman and keep...fucking...calm. The thought was easy enough. Pulling it off would be another matter; Inuyasha could already feel his blood beginning to boil.

The Kikyou in the video seemed to see the camera filming and jump in surprise, then gave a small, weak smile and try to wave it away. The tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she was doing the perfect job at looking like the heartbroken little angel trying to put on a brave face and keep going.

Kagome took a deep, shaky breath, and then said, even though she clearly knew the answer, "Is she okay? Why is she crying?"

Yura put her phone away and feigned confusion as she stared Kagome straight in the eyes. "She said we should ask you, sweetie."

"Okay," Inuyasha said, grabbing Kagome by her shoulder and turning her away from the camera, "That's enough of that. Are you satisfied, Yura? Did you get what you needed?"

"I certainly did!" Yura said brightly, "Good luck to you tonight! We're all rooting for you, I'm sure."

 


 

Sango finally broke free of Warner (and of course, all he'd wanted was to ensure that he and Sango were seated next to each other at dinner, the creep) and set off back down the red carpet, but it was obvious she was too late. Inuyasha had a protective hand on Kagome's shoulder as they basically rushed down the center of the walkway, plainly ignoring all the other interviewers' shouted requests. Kagome looked shellshocked, her eyes wide and staring down at the floor. Inuyasha, though? He was furious.

"Okay, kids," Sango quickly turned to the two girls who were still attached to her hands, "Why don't you go on ahead into the ballroom? The usher will show you to your seats, and you can order a really fancy Italian soda with cream!"

"What about Inuyasha?" Mayu was gazing at Inuyasha's approaching form with what could only be that age-old preteen longing.

"They'll be along in a sec," Sango said reassuringly, "Just need to give them some hair and makeup touch-ups. Super important before they start airing the awards live, right?"

"I want a makeup touch-up, too," Mayu pouted.

Sango knew it was wrong to want to literally kick a sick and dying child in the pants, but so help her god…

"Come on, Mayu," Kanna said, grabbing hold of the other young girl's wrist and dragging her along, "You can use this time to reflect on the inherent pointlessness of arbitrary awards for something based entirely on deception and self-worship."

"I don't even know what you just said!" Mayu protested, but allowed Kanna to lead her away, inside the large double doors and then through the ornate doors of the ballroom.

Sango sighed and turned back to Inuyasha and Kagome, who were just reaching her.

"Come on," she said, before either of them could speak, "Just come inside and we'll sort it out."

 


 

Sango found them an empty green room and bolted the door shut, then paused for a moment before dragging a heavy chair from the corner over to the door and jamming it beneath the handle.

She then turned to the two of them, hands on her hips. "So what the fuck just happened, exactly?" Her expression was irritated, freaked-out, frantic, and then it softened. "Oh, no, Kagome…"

Inuyasha's gaze snapped to Kagome, who was standing behind him. Her hands were clapped over her mouth, almost frozen in place, and her beautiful blue eyes were wide as saucers. There were no tears yet, but he knew it was just a matter of seconds.

"Kagome," Inuyasha started toward her, but she just held out both her hands, as if to tell them both to keep away.

"No. Please, just don't. Give me a minute." She looked almost apologetic. He'd gotten her into the mess of a lifetime and she was apologizing to him for not wanting him to touch her right now? Inuyasha felt a little dizzy, and just nodded and turned away to throw himself bodily into the remaining chair, his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees.

Sango, meanwhile, was frantically scrolling through her phone. "That fucking evil, manipulative bitch," she said finally, her eyes blazing with fury, "She did it. She fucking did it." She held out her phone for Inuyasha to take, and he gazed down at the screen through bleary eyes.

It was Kikyou's twitter account.

Posted one hour ago: "If you see me at the Globes tonight, please say hello. Could use a little positive human interaction tonight. Not quite myself today." A single heart emoji.

Followed by comments all asking what was wrong, and some very well-placed replies suggesting that she just lean on Inuyasha for support because he clearly loved her so much.

Posted in reply to one such comment: "I can't. And I don't blame Inuyasha at all. I knew this happened, that people fell out of love, but I never thought it would happen to US." Broken heart emoji.

A flurry of further comments ranging from shocked outbursts to sympathetic questions as to what happened.

Posted in reply to that: "We're not going to the Globes together, obv. That's all I really want to say. This happened very suddenly and I have to ask for privacy right now. Thanks."

Kikyou Higurashi asking for privacy. There were likely pigs flying in a frozen hell right now.

More comments and replies, including one asking what Inuyasha could possibly be thinking, dumping her, the Kikyou Higurashi.

Inuyasha felt his hands shaking as he wordlessly handed the phone back to Sango. He stared straight at them in an attempt to force them to stop, but there was no combatting this rush of fury and adrenaline coursing through his body.

"There's one more thing," Sango said softly, as if she knew how thick the tension in the room was and thought that if she spoke above a whisper it would snap like piano wire, "Houshi just sent me the screenshot. She tweeted one more reply and then deleted it, as if she thought better of it. But it was up long enough for everyone to grab screenshots, and Yura's people are already announcing the exclusive on her website."

Inuyasha snatched the phone out of her hands again and glared at the screen.

One of the comments asking what the hell was wrong with Inuyasha, dumping Kikyou out of the blue and so suddenly.

Kikyou's reply: "I don't know. Ask my sister."

"GOD DAMMIT!" Inuyasha roared, rearing back to throw the phone at the wall. Sango sprang forward and wrenched it from his grip before he could, but just barely.

"Let me see," Kagome's voice sounded from behind him, and he stopped short.

Sango hesitated, then wordlessly handed the phone to Kagome, who took it and scrolled through. There was utter silence in the room, and then Kagome handed the phone to Inuyasha, who handed it back to Sango.

Kagome sank back to let her back rest against the wall, her hand closing around her throat as if something invisible was choking her. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be trying to will herself to remain calm. She looked to be on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.

"I knew she'd try to get back at me in the end," she finally said, her voice trembling, "I just underestimated how far she'd go."

"She's fucked us," Sango muttered, "And herself. I just don't get it."

"No," Kagome said softly, "Just us. She's had this plan formulated since Inuyasha told her to fuck off once and for all. And she knows her tabloids. She's got Yura in her pocket and everything ready to go. To paint herself as the victim and get all the sympathy in the world."

She looked up at Inuyasha, and finally, a tear spilled out of those brilliant blue eyes. "She's won."

Inuyasha had no coherent reply, so he just stood up and threw his arms around her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him so tight that she was probably wrinkling her dress, but that was obviously the last thing that should be on anyone's mind right now.

"The hell she has," Sango snapped as she frantically started typing into her phone, "I'm setting Houshi on her. Whatever dirt we can find, we'll get, and we'll make her look like the piece of fucking trash she is."

"You can't," Kagome said softly, her forehead pressed to the lapel of Inuyasha's jacket, "You do that and she'll just say it came from Inuyasha's people. That he's being vindictive. Or am. And then I'm an evil smearing ungrateful sister as well as a homewrecker."

"This is…" Inuyasha growled in frustration, "What the hell do we do? Like seriously, what the fuck can we do? We're screwed."

"I mean," Sango said quickly, "You're probably most definitely still nominated, that's for sure, but -" She faltered when she saw Inuyasha's glare, aimed at her from across the room.

"When the fuck," Inuyasha ground out, trying to keep his voice down to avoid shouting with Kagome standing right there in his embrace, "did I say anything about the fucking Oscar? I'm talking about Kagome. Kikyou's completely destroyed her character in the press."

"Inuyasha," Kagome's hands were instantly at the sides of his face, forcing him to look at her, "It's okay. Really, it is." She had that weak, brave smile on, the one she put on when she was trying to convince herself of something. "As long as we have each other, it'll be okay, right?"

"The hell it will!" He was trying not to snap, but dammit, he was just so fucking angry. "That's your photography career gone! Not to mention you'll never be able to live in peace again!"

Kagome's smile faltered for a moment and she looked ready to cry again. And then that smile returned and she laced her arms around his neck, clearly willing him to calm down with her calm, easy breaths. "I'll have you, Jerkface. We'll get through it together. I guess that's the bright side of it all, you know? I happen to know that you're worth the trouble. So I'll be fine. We'll be fine."

He found himself unable to do anything in that moment but kiss her with all the fire in his soul.

When they parted again, he turned back to Sango. "So what do we do now?"

Sango thought for a moment, looking like she was dealing with a hell of a migraine. "The only thing we can do. We try to carry on as normal. We go upstairs into the ballroom and we sit through the fucking Golden Globes."

Chapter 58: She Stole Your Make-A-Wish Kid!

Summary:

In which Kikyou stoops low enough to outrage even Kouga, Kanna eats a bunch of candy and talks a bunch of shit, and Inuyasha risks Golden Globes Jail, whatever that is.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty-Eight

She Stole Your Make-A-Wish Kid!

 

Sango got Inuyasha and Kagome to their table, where they sat, both of them looking utterly deflated but trying to put on happy faces for Mayu and Kanna.

Just as she'd decided to sprint for the bar and down herself a nice double shot of tequila or something, her phone buzzed.

"Houshi?"

"Everything okay?"

"Not really. They're at their table. I thought it best to not sic the red carpet on them a second time. God, I could strangle that Yura bitch, I swear."

"What about you?"

Sango gave a humorless half-smile and sighed. "Functioning," she mumbled, "At least I can say that much."

"Can you sneak out?"

"Of the Golden Globes? Ha, ha, very funny."

"Yeah, I figured. But get over here as soon as you can. We've got a lot of shit to sort through, and I can't do it alone."

"I promise," she said softly, pausing mid-stride and taking a second to lean against the wall and try to catch her breath.

"We'll figure all of this out, babe. You and me, we're the dream team, right? And no one's better in a crisis than you are. And I definitely think this qualifies, right?"

"Right," she panted, trying to will herself to calm down just a bit and think. "Let me call you later, Houshi. I need a fucking drink before the grand high bitch herself shows up. Honestly, I might have to start physically restraining people if she makes any shitty comments tonight. Oh, god, I wish you were here. I have to go find Warner and tell him what's going on. If he finds out from anyone but me, I'm shit-canned, and then everything is over and done with, once and for all -"

"One more thing before you go?"

She waited, her heartbeat pounding in her ears a mile a minute.

"I love you."

"G-god DAMMIT, Houshi!" Sango snapped after a moment, feeling the blood rushing to her face, "I'm trying to keep my mind straight and you just throw shit like that at me? You asshole. Don't call me again. I'll see you later tonight."

She pressed the button to end the call, but heard him laughing gleefully before it went silent.

 


 

"How long does this awards show last?" Kanna asked from her seat to Kagome's left. Her speech was slightly garbled, as there was a good-sized lollipop stuck in her cheek. Sango had evidently told the girls about the candy bar, and they had raided it but good, their small dessert plates piled high with goodies.

"Oh my gosh, Kanna, can you just stop being a stick in the mud for two seconds and let yourself enjoy something?" Mayu snapped, biting into a stick of red licorice.

"I was merely asking," Kanna said, with that same distant, bemused tone.

"It's about three hours," Kagome said softly, "but it has known to run over that from time to time."

"That's a long time," Kanna murmured, "I wish I had a book with me."

Same here, girl, same here. Anything to take my mind off things. Kagome sent an uneasy glance at Inuyasha, who was sitting three seats away at the round table and thus was nearly facing her. He was flipping a spoon over and over in his hand, his eyes fixed on the white tablecloth, his expression very disgruntled. Mayu, for her part, kept sneaking curious and suspicious glances at him in between bites of licorice.

Kagome picked up a piece of candy and chucked it at him. It fell into his lap, and he jumped and stared at her questioningly.

"Lighten up, buttercup," she said with her most reassuring smile and a wink. She had to be strong right now. For him. She had to show him that it would all be okay.

But will it?

Inuyasha's chances at the Oscar were going to be miniscule. No one, no matter how great the performance, would want to reward such obviously untoward behavior toward the first lady of American cinema. His career was going to take a terrible hit, and sweetheart that he was, Kagome knew that hadn't even occurred to him yet, because he was only thinking of her.

It was that thought that made her want to cry all the more. He'd worked so hard, and now, it could be all over. It would be awful for him.

A hand slammed down on the table, making everyone but Kanna jump.

"Hello, everyone. I think this is my seat, right?"

Kagome swallowed. "Hi, Kouga," she mumbled, as the man in question sauntered past her and sank into the chair to her right. He was looking extra sharp for the occasion, it seemed, wearing a navy blue tux and the shiniest black shoes ever to grace a red carpet. He nodded briefly at Inuyasha, that trademark smirk on his face, before turning in his seat to face Kagome entirely. Inuyasha's face screwed up in renewed fury, but he didn't move.

"You look amazing tonight," Kouga whispered into her ear.

"Little close there, buddy, thanks," Kagome said, feeling her face turn a little pink as she gently shoved him back away from her.

"Who are you?" Kanna asked, the lollipop still in her mouth.

Kagome fought a smile.

Kouga blinked at Kanna, and then burst out laughing. Mayu just stared from Kouga to Kanna and back again, clearly mortified.

"Very cute, kid. I'm Kouga Okami, but you already knew that, didn't you?"

"No I didn't."

"Anyways," Kouga said straight to Kagome, "What's with the preteen daycare anyway? They relatives of yours or something?"

"No," Kanna said, giving him that thousand-yard stare, "We're dying."

"We're not dying," Mayu said insistently, looking like she wanted to smack her hand over Kanna's mouth, "We're just sick."

"Everyone's dying," Kanna said, her eyes drifting up to the ceiling in a reflective pose, "All of us are. Right here, right now. Slowly dying. Some of us go a little faster than others. That's all."

"They're Make-A-Wish kids," Kagome said quickly.

Kouga looked utterly bewildered. "O-oh," he said, "Okay. Sure. Whatever."

The fabulous Kanna, Kagome thought, able to make even Kouga Okami shut his mouth. She was growing fonder and fonder of this kid.

Ayame appeared a few moments later, coming up to give Kagome another hug. "I just can't thank you enough," she said, "I didn't get a chance to tell you back there, but Warner actually loved the photos! In fact, he was saying something about a female-led action film. Of course, nothing set in stone, but, you know -"

"Ayame?" Kouga asked, "When did you two get all buddy-buddy?"

"That's none of your business, Kouga," Ayame said before Kagome could even open her mouth to reply.

"None of my...business?" Kouga seemed utterly scandalized that Ayame would dismiss him in this manner. Probably never happened before, huh? Kagome smiled.

"You heard me," Ayame said, before turning her full attention back to Kagome. "Are you okay?" she whispered, "I've been hearing stuff, they're all talking about it on the red carpet -"

"I'm fine," Kagome said quickly, "It's all just bullshit. Another storm to weather. Don't worry."

"Well, I don't know if it helps, but I just tore Yura Kaminoke a new one when she asked me about it outside. I told her I didn't know anything about it, and that frankly, I find it disgusting when people's private lives are public news."

Kanna leaned forward in her seat and craned her neck up to look Ayame square in the face. It was a little alarming, and Ayame cut her eyes once to Kagome as if to ask, "Uhhhh, what?"

A moment of awkward silence, and then Kanna sat back, seemingly satisfied. "I like you," she said simply.

"I like her too," Kagome said with a laugh to break the tension. Ayame just grinned that million-dollar smile.

"What about Kouga, kid?" Inuyasha chose this moment to pipe up. "Do you like him?"

Kouga grimaced at Inuyasha.

"No," Kanna said simply, "He's got wolf eyes."

Inuyasha burst out laughing, and Kagome followed suit, finding herself actually grateful that Kouga was here right now. It made for some much-needed levity when it felt like the world was falling apart around them.

"He sure does," Ayame said, looking a little subdued all of a sudden. With a final, lingering glance at Kouga, she gave Kagome a quick peck on the cheek, waved to Inuyasha, and went to take her seat at the executives' table. Tonight she was Warner's special guest. Kagome didn't envy her the privilege.

Kouga watched her go, looking utterly bewildered and out of his element. "What the hell was that all about?" he grumbled to no one in particular.

Kagome decided to answer him anyway. "She's a hell of a girl, Kouga. Too good for you, but of course, you probably know that."

Kouga didn't answer, just looked over his shoulder at where Ayame was taking her seat. "She's going to do action films?"

"Why not," Inuyasha jumped in, looking eager to rub salt in any wound he could see, "She's a hell of an athlete."

"And smart as hell to boot," Kagome caught the pass and lobbed it back, sending a mischievous smile Inuyasha's way, "But then, you knew that already, didn't you, Kouga? Just from the time you spent with her?"

The lack of response was just too good to pass up.

"Oh," Kagome said to Inuyasha, knowing her smile probably looked a little cruel but her nerves were just too frazzled for her to give a shit, "He didn't know. He doesn't know her at all!"

"You two are the ones to talk," Kouga snapped, turning around with one final glance back at Ayame, "From what I've been hearing tonight, you guys screwed Kikyou over with hardly a warning. Classy."

"If you believe that," Inuyasha said, the smile disappearing from his face instantly and replacing itself with a cool glare, "You're an even bigger moron than I thought you were."

"Hey, I ain't taking sides," Kouga said with a shrug and a smirk, sitting back in his chair.

"What are you guys talking about?" Mayu whined, "What happened with Kikyou?"

"Mayu," Kanna said sagely, "Let the grownups talk."

"Do I get to meet her tonight?" Mayu demanded suddenly as if she hadn't been listening, slapping a hand down on the table, "And can I get a picture with both of you, Inuyasha?"

Inuyasha looked as if he had no words.

Before any of them could come up with an answer, Sango appeared, looking out of breath as usual.

"She's here," she whispered.

 


 

Just as Sango said it, there was a collective murmur around the room, and they all turned to the doorway.

There Kikyou stood, wearing a floor-length black gown, looking subdued. Inuyasha wanted to puke. A scorned woman in mourning, he thought bitterly, what a fucking crock.

Kikyou held the hand of a small, starstruck girl with silvery white hair and deeply tanned skin, who was gazing up at her with pure adoration.

"Damn," Kouga whispered, "that kid looks like she could be Takahashi's little sister, or something."

Or my kid, Inuyasha thought, his hands clenching so hard that his nails were pricking his palms, Doesn't that just beat all. Fucking perfect.

Kikyou was smiling down at the little girl, almost serenely, with enough sadness placed in her eyes that made it look almost longing. Wistful, even.

Kagome's hand went to her mouth. Clearly, she had noticed it too.

Kikyou shows up in all black, clearly mourning our destroyed future.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Sango said, "That was not the little girl I sent to her house. Not at all."

"I know that girl," Mayu said excitedly, clearly not sensing any of the tension around her, "That's Shiori! She's my best friend in the ward! She just loves Kikyou, but she was sad when she didn't get picked! Oh my gosh, I bet she was so surprised when Rin couldn't go!"

"What do you mean," Sango said, her mouth a thin, straight line, "Rin couldn't go?"

Mayu took another bite of candy, talking with her mouth open. "Nah, her mom won a bunch of money or something and they took an overseas trip at the last minute. But yay, that means Shiori is here!"

Sango's eye twitched a little as she ran a hand over her face and took a few deep breaths.

Kikyou and Shiori reached the table, and Kikyou made a big show of helping Shiori into her seat, ruffling the little girl's hair and everything.

Inuyasha just sat there and glared. He felt Kagome's foot slide alongside his under the table, tapping once. He knew she was trying to tell him to calm down and just ignore Kikyou. But how could he? After what she'd done to them? After what she'd done to her own sister?

"Kikyou," he snapped out, unable to help himself.

Kikyou jumped as if startled, and her eyes drifted up the table to him. If he hadn't known what an actress she was, he might have bought it. She was hesitant, almost fearful-looking, as if she had been so scared to face him all evening but had steeled herself up because her public demanded it…

"You," he said, slamming a hand onto the tablecloth and making the silverware rattle, "are unbelievable."

She looked confused for a second. The old who, me?

"Inuyasha," Kagome whispered, "She's not worth it. Not right now."

At the sound of Kagome's voice, Kikyou's head snapped in her direction, and the look she sent her sister's way was enough to curdle blood. Kagome clearly fought the instinctive urge to flinch back and held her sister's glare, her chin set forward defiantly. Proud of you, Kiddo.

"Cameras, guys, cameras," Sango all but begged, her mouth hidden by her hand.

All at once, Kikyou looked to Inuyasha, and then back to Kagome. Her voice when she spoke was halted, trembling. The perfect martyr's voice.

"I hope," she said softly, "that you two are very happy together."

Inuyasha opened his mouth to assure Kikyou that they were, indeed, very happy, at least a lot happier than he'd ever been with a cobra like her, but Mayu interrupted him by bounding out of her chair and rushing forward to give her friend Shiori a hug.

Kikyou's easygoing smile and mannerisms returned like it was nothing. "Hello there," she said, her voice like soft silk as she placed a hand on Mayu's shoulder, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Mayu looked up at her in awe and answered the question. Kikyou then bent down and wrapped her arms delicately around Mayu's thin shoulders. When Mayu returned to her seat a few moments later, she looked utterly enthralled by the embrace of the goddess.

Kikyou took a seat between Shiori and the remaining empty chairs.

"I'm going to kill myself," whispered Sango, "but first, I need a drink."

"Me too," Inuyasha ground out, finally looking away, "A fucking strong one."

"Kagome?" Sango turned to her, "Beer?"

"Screw that," Kagome said, her steely gaze still fixed on her sister. It seemed that now that Kagome had gotten her tears out of the way, all that was left was for her to be absolutely furious. "Bring me a bourbon. Double."

 


 

"And the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Drama goes to...Inuyasha Takahashi, for 'The Red Robe!'"

The auditorium erupted in applause. Mayu gave a whooping cheer and hugged Inuyasha as he stood up, buttoning his jacket and making his way around the table. As he passed Kagome, he gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and whispered, "Love you, Kiddo."

Kagome smiled in spite of her truly bitter mood. As she looked around the room, taking careful note to avoid looking in Kikyou's direction, she noticed a few people, mostly reporters and Kikyou's close friends, were sitting with their arms crossed, refusing to congratulate him.

It was starting.

Inuyasha, for his part, didn't seem to notice, and if he had, he wasn't paying it any mind as he took the stage and accepted the golden trophy.

"My thanks to the Hollywood Foreign Press Association for this honor," he said animatedly, though Kagome knew he was faking it for the cameras' sake, "My thanks to Sunrise Studios, and to my agent, Miroku Houshi, who couldn't make it tonight but is probably eating ice cream and watching this on TV yelling at me to smile more. And my thanks to the cast and crew for helping us to tell this story. I'm grateful to everyone who enjoyed it, and I'm even grateful to those of you that didn't."

A smattering of laughter in the crowd.

"There is one person I have to thank above all others," he said, placing both hands on the side of the podium, his eyes on the wood surface for a moment. There was a whoop from somewhere in the crowd, and Kagome knew they thought he was talking about Kikyou.

She finally chanced a look over at her sister, and right on cue, with the cameras clearly centered on her, she was hunched over a little in her seat, staring at her hands clasped on the tabletop, looking utterly brokenhearted. When the cameraman stepped a little closer, Kikyou gave a small whimpering shudder and made a big show of looking away.

Kagome's face snapped back to the stage, where Inuyasha was looking at her, clearly ready to say her name out loud and give it all up. For her.

But not now. Not like this. Not with Kikyou playing up her sorrows to the crowd. He'd be hated. He'd be vilified. And it wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

Feeling a lump form in her throat, Kagome ever-so-slightly shook her head, her eyes locked with his.

Inuyasha blinked, then sighed, looking a little disappointed but soldiering on nonetheless. "You know who she is," he said, "And she knows who she is. And she's gone through hell and back and still come out looking like an angel."

There was another whoop in the crowd. The Kikyou show was now broadcasting feelings of bewilderment, surprise, perhaps a hesitant smile….oh, no, that was gone, replaced with a stricken look of betrayal once again. Kagome had to give credit where credit was due. Kikyou was giving them poetry in motion. She was playing the part almost perfectly.

Kagome fought the urge to leap at her over the table like a bull in a china shop and returned her attention to Inuyasha where it belonged.

"She knows how much I love her," he said, "And she's worth all the awards in the world to me. Thank you very much, once again. Have a good night, everyone!"

And then he was off backstage.

 


 

"Good speech," Sango said as Inuyasha sank back into his seat, "Very diplomatic."

They were in commercial break, so she was now free to move about the cabin, as it were.

Any excuse to get away from Warner, who had raged at her for about fifteen minutes straight before the ceremony, asking her what in the hell her job was if not to keep scandals from besmirching the company name. Sango had taken it all on the chin and resisted her urge to speak out that trying to force people who loved each other apart was about as ridiculous as trying to force people who didn't love each other together. And yes, she was well aware of the irony of that thought. Houshi would have just loved it.

At the end of it all, Warner had calmed down enough to let her know in no uncertain terms that she was on thin ice, and that he would be unhappy to see her go if it came to that, but he wouldn't hesitate if something like this happened again.

Bullshit, she thought with an inward snarl, you just happen to like looking at me day to day. You wouldn't care if I was a brainless ignoramus if I had ever consented to bring coffee up to your office late at night like you've requested oh-so-many times.

At her comment, Inuyasha scoffed and downed the rest of his drink. Kagome held out her hand across the table and he took it, squeezed it once, and let it go.

"Why are you holding hands?" Mayu demanded through a mouthful of potatoes.

"Hey, kid," Sango nudged Mayu on the back of the shoulder, "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?"

Mayu sent her a glare and fell silent.

"You guys okay?" Sango looked from Inuyasha to Kagome, knowing it was a stupid question. Once the word got out and the rumors spread like wildfire, none of them would be okay for a good long while.

Inuyasha stared at his award, then wordlessly handed it over to Kagome. "You earned it," he said softly, then to Sango, "Yeah, as fine as we can be."

Kagome, clearly touched, held the heavy statuette in her lap, then turned to Sango and nodded.

The little bell alarm sounded to signify that everyone should return to their seats, and Sango rushed away, passing by Kikyou, who was making sure to lavish as much affection on little Shiori as possible. Sango wanted to gag.

 


 

"And the Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Drama goes to...Kikyou Higurashi!"

Kagome clutched the award in her lap as if to brace herself upright. Here we go. There was no telling how bad this was going to be.

She felt cameras zooming in toward her face, clearly trying to capture her reaction to her sister's win. She clapped and smiled complacently, refusing to play Kikyou's little game.

As Kikyou rounded the table, she stopped at Inuyasha, seemingly wanting to embrace him but obviously stopping short and thinking better of it as she moved around to Mayu.

"Sweetheart," Kikyou said, dipping down to Mayu's level, her hands on her thighs, "Would you like to come up onstage with me? I hear you're quite the actress yourself, right?"

"Would I?" Mayu shot up like a cannon, "Of course I would!"

Oh, this fucking bitch. Kagome turned in her seat and sent a brief but all-too-satisfying look of fury in Kikyou's direction, but Kikyou wasn't paying her any mind as she turned to Kanna. "What about you, honey?"

"No," Kanna said, now on her third lollipop of the evening as she gazed fearlessly up at Kikyou, "You have liar's eyes."

Kikyou grimaced in disgust for a moment, then remembered herself and smiled, shrugging it off. She took both Mayu's and Shiori's hands and led them magnanimously up the stairs to the stage.

Kagome continued clapping so hard and obnoxiously her hands started to sting.

Across the room, Sango and Ayame were looking utterly aghast, but everyone else at their table was cheering and clapping.

She was taking the fucking kids up with her. That was a new low. A new level of manipulation. And everyone was fawning all over it.

"Thank you so much!" Kikyou said when she reached the podium, the two girls' small hands clasped lovingly in her own. She began prattling on, and Kagome finally chanced a look behind her.

Inuyasha looked livid.

And to his credit, so did Kouga, of all people.

"What the fuck?" Kouga muttered under his breath, "She stole your Make-A-Wish kid, Takahashi! Who steals a Make-A-Wish kid?"

"I don't think that's a very honest thing to do," Kanna said quietly around her lollipop, "She's quite clearly a narcissistic personality disorder with sociopathic tendencies."

"She's something, all right," Kagome growled under her breath, keeping her face emotionless.

"A big fucking something," Inuyasha hissed, then whispered to Kanna, "Pardon my French."

"Fuck," Kanna said loudly, the loudest she'd spoken thus far.

The rest of the table glanced at her, as well as quite a few of the tables surrounding them.

"There," Kanna said, "Now you can feel comfortable cursing around me. You're welcome."

"Kid, you can't just yell out curse words like that!" Inuyasha whispered, "You're gonna get kicked out!"

"I'll just say I have Tourette's," Kanna said simply, as if it was the easiest explanation in the world.

Kagome forced herself to turn back around and listen to whatever bullshit her sister was spouting.

"...all of my fans, all around the world, because this is for you, and I really, truly mean it!" Kikyou paused for applause. "And of course, I have to thank my mom, who believed in me so much that she moved heaven and earth to make my dreams come true. I hope I made you proud today, Mom. I hope you're looking down and smiling."

Nice, Kagome thought, biting down on her tongue as she applauded with the rest of them, Gotta get in a subtle dig at me. Bring up the mommy issues. Yeah, no, keep 'em coming, Sister Darling, I'll be here all night. She was dimly aware that her right foot was tapping up and down uncontrollably under the table.

Kikyou put on her serious face. "I want to use my platform here tonight to send a message. To all the women out there who have ever been hurt, who have faced adversity and overcome it, you are my heroes. These young ladies right here," she raised Mayu and Shiori's hands high, "have been through so much already in their short lives, and they are still fighting. That's my pledge, and I hope you will all join with me in it. Ladies, don't ever let a man make you feel less than. Not ever. You are more than enough. Always.

"And to the men," she faltered a little, clearly letting herself tear up, "let the women in your life know how valid they are, how strong, how beautiful, and they will always prove you right. Let's prove them all right! Thank you so very much." She let go of Mayu's hand to grab her statuette and kept her grip on Shiori, and let the two girls follow her offstage, her little hired minions, the rats to her pied piper.

When the applause died down again, Inuyasha placed both hands on the table and stood up as the auditorium went to commercial break again. "Well," he said snappishly, "That was sickening. I'm getting the hell out of here."

"You're leaving?" Kouga said incredulously, "Your movie's up for Best Picture! You can't just leave!"

"What are they gonna do," Inuyasha growled, "Put me in Golden Globes jail?" He glanced at Kagome, and she knew she didn't need to be told twice. Kanna stood up along with them, placing her hand in Kagome's as if by instinct.

Sango caught them on their way out the door. "Where are you going?" she asked, looking frantic.

"We're going home. Feel free to join us if you want," Kagome said, giving Sango a look that left no room for protest or argument.

Sango seriously seemed to consider it, but she grimaced and shook her head. "They're gonna think you have a guilty conscience if you don't stay," she said softly, though she clearly wasn't putting up much of a fight.

"If I had a guilty conscience I'd be sitting through the rest of this bullshit. It'd be some sick form of self-punishment," Inuyasha snapped.

Sango ran a hand through her perfectly styled hair, closing her eyes and heaving a resigned sigh. "You're right," she conceded, "Go home, and as per usual, for your own sakes, stay the hell off the Internet."

Inuyasha nodded, and turned back to Kagome. "Come on, Kagome. Let's go home. I've had enough of this shit."

Kagome was in resounding agreement. She just wanted to go home, have a drink, and forget about all of this until the morning. "Me fucking too," she glowered.

"Me fucking three," said Kanna calmly, grabbing another lollipop to go from the candy table as they all walked out the door.

 

Chapter 59: A Very Familiar Last Name

Summary:

In which Kanna inquires about Inuyasha's lovemaking abilities, Miroku breaks out of hospital jail, Oscar nominations are finally announced, and Kagome is out for blood.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Fifty-Nine

A Very Familiar Last Name

 

"Guess you're coming home with us for the night, then, kid," Inuyasha said as the three of them piled into the back of a limo waiting in the alley. He told the driver the address, then put the partition up and pressed two fists into his eyes, heaving a great sigh.

He heard Kagome's skirts rustling, and opened his eyes to see her situating herself next to him and laying her head on his shoulder. Her face was unsmiling, her eyes a little vacant. She was clearly not quite...there.

"I have an idea," Inuyasha said, "We should just make this a slumber party. Like the good old days. Snacks and pajamas and a horror movie."

Kagome's lips curled into a small smile and she seemed to relax slightly, just slightly, as she nodded wordlessly.

It was a few minutes of silence before Kanna spoke up.

"Are you two going to have sex?"

Kagome immediately seemed to choke on air, and she doubled over with a few enormous coughs as Inuyasha gently patted her on the back.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" he barked at Kanna, who was staring blankly at him, as usual.

"You're together, right?"

Inuyasha glanced at Kagome, who had righted herself and just gave him a wordless thumbs-up to tell him that she was okay. "Yeah," he said with a somewhat wistful grin as he reached out to brush some hair out of her face, "I'd definitely say that."

"Then why wouldn't you have sex?" Kanna asked, "Unless you're impotent. Are you impotent?"

Kagome burst into cackling laughter, rearing her head back and covering her eyes.

Inuyasha, torn between outrage and a small sense of relief that Kagome was still able to laugh a little after the wringing she'd been through tonight, just glared at Kanna, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. "I am not impotent - okay, you know what, I am not having this conversation with a child."

 


 

Sango felt ready to collapse.

She'd of course had to make a brief appearance at the studio afterparty, and even with the chef-catered hors d'oeuvres smelling wonderful, she'd been unable to stomach the idea of eating. Not with Kikyou holding court in the middle of the room and holding that Golden Globe like an infant child as she kept both Shiori and Mayu close at hand.

When Sango had arranged for their travels home after about an hour, both little girls had looked just crushed at the idea of having to leave the presence of their idol. Tearful, sweet goodbyes. Kikyou's whispered promises to see them soon, as everyone looked on adoringly. Even Warner had been so elated with what he called Kikyou's "brilliant show of likability" this late in the game that it hadn't even seemed to occur to him that Inuyasha's place was now firmly under the bus.

Sango had wanted to scream to the crowded room what a crock it all was, but she kept silent. Silent and smiling. And then at the first opportunity, she ran. Ran down the back alley and hailed a cab and sped away.

She stumbled through the hospital room doorway, feeling weighted to the floor by her Givenchy gown and rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm back," she mumbled softly, then she looked up.

Miroku was standing up, braced on the side of the bed, his arm still in the sling, dressed in what appeared to be hospital-issued athletic shorts and a tee shirt. The nurse, the one he'd called a dictator, was sniffing in disapproval as she held out a clipboard for him to sign.

"Hey, Sango," he said brightly, "Gimme a second. It's hard to sign these right-handed. Looks like chicken scratch."

"Wh-what are you doing?" Sango said, rushing up to try and support him. He was quite obviously having trouble standing.

"He's checking himself out," the nurse griped, "Against medical advice, I might add."

"Houshi, are you sure that's a good idea?" Sango asked hesitantly, gripping him gently around the waist.

"Of course it's not a good idea," the nurse snapped, "That's why it's called against medical advice."

Miroku just grinned. "Oh, Martha. I'm going to miss these little flirtations of ours. Have you told your husband yet, or are you going to keep me pining for you forever?" He signed the final form with a signature that looked like 'Markie Horsie'.

The nurse wrinkled up her nose in disgust, tossed a paper bag full of pill bottles onto the bed, and all but stomped out of the room, shouting, "You're free to go. Goodbye!"

"Really though, Houshi," Sango said, "Are you sure you're gonna be okay at home?"

"Hell yes," he said, "Home is where the HBO channels are. Plus, we're gonna need my high-speed internet to keep track of all the shit Kikyou's flying monkeys are flinging our way."

Sango just scoffed and rolled her eyes as she let herself curl up into the crook of his good arm.

"I'm glad you're here," Miroku said, kissing Sango on the cheek, "You can carry Ralph. Hand me that wheelchair over there in the corner."

 


 

Kagome had some comfortable pajamas on, her hair down, the makeup scrubbed off her face, and she was curled up between the man of her dreams and the little girl she was starting to just adore, with a movie on the television and a bowl of popcorn in her lap. She should have been feeling wonderful. Content. Happy.

And yet.

And yet, she couldn't help but keep glancing at her phone, trying to see what time it was. Three am. Just a few more hours until the announcements. The Oscar noms.

Inuyasha, for his part, didn't seem to be nervous like she was, just sort of sadly resigned to a bad outcome. He was clearly doing his level best to just watch the movie and have a good time, exactly like he had suggested they do. They were supposed to just try to enjoy their evening and each other's company. Kagome had certainly tried to.

And yet.

And yet, Kagome just couldn't shake the turmoil her mind was in. What were they going to do? How were they going to get through this? From the way Yura had sounded, and from the way Sango had looked so gray in the face, this was shaping up to be a huge cheating scandal. With her sister in the center of it all, playing the wounded angel part perfectly.

It made Kagome's blood absolutely boil.

Kikyou didn't want Inuyasha. She hadn't wanted Inuyasha himself for a long, long time. She wanted the attention she got with Inuyasha on her arm. She wanted to be Queen of Hollywood again.

And the fact that Kagome did want Inuyasha? Not the movie star, not the celebrity heartthrob, but the goofy dork of a guy underneath? And he wanted Kagome back?

Apparently too much for Kikyou to leave it alone. To leave them in peace. She clearly wanted them to suffer. And Inuyasha would suffer most of all. Kagome had been a nobody before, and if she had to escape Hollywood to be a nobody again, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. But to kill Inuyasha's career like this, his Oscar chances, his friendships, his public goodwill, all in one swift stroke…

Kagome realized her hands were shaking with rage, and she fought to steady them, glancing to her left. Inuyasha was just watching the absolutely awful horror film he'd chosen at random and lazily chuckling at all the most ridiculous moments.

She was almost frustrated with him. Looking at him, no one would ever guess how much his life had been potentially ruined tonight. Even in the heat of all of it, all he'd worried about was her, Kagome, and how she would be affected. And she'd reassured him, because of course she had. And now he was just watching a movie and shrugging it off. Because he'd believed her when she said nothing was wrong. She wanted him to be furious. He should be furious.

Feeling slightly dizzy and knowing she was overthinking everything and in no state to be doing so, she gently turned to her right, where Kanna leaned over the arm of the couch, her pale hair curled around her shoulders, having nodded off about half an hour ago. As gently as possible, she scooped the small girl in her arms and stood.

"I'm going to put her in the guest room, okay?"

Inuyasha made to stand up, reaching his arms toward her. "Here, let me take her."

"No, no," Kagome ducked out of his reach and made herself give him a reassuring smile, "I got her. You finish the movie, okay? I'm going to head to sleep too. Got a hell of a headache."

Inuyasha frowned, then nodded hesitantly. "If you're sure," he said, sitting back down.

"I'm sure," she said softly, heading off down the hallway.

She tucked Kanna in (when that girl slept, she slept) and silently made her way to Inuyasha's bedroom.

Only when she was safely under the covers and hugging a pillow for dear life did she let the angry tears spill out of her eyes.

 


 

"Hey, Kiddo!"

Kagome, aged nineteen at the time, had been buried in her clipboard, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She looked up with a start, then smiled at him weakly. "Hey, Jerkface."

Inuyasha leaned against the wooden fence, letting the warm summer breeze blow across his face. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

She looked down at the clipboard and sighed. "I'm doing her Christmas card list."

Inuyasha lowered his sunglasses slightly, knowing he looked quite bewildered. "Kagome, it's the middle of August."

"Don't I know it," she said softly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, "But you know Kikyou. She'll change her mind at least ten times before I get it right. So it's best to start early, you know?"

Inuyasha frowned, glancing across the courtyard, where Kikyou sat under a shady cabana, sipping a frozen cocktail out of a coconut shell. "But we're on vacation," he said.

"Correction - you two are on vacation. Go enjoy it!" Kagome gave him that don't-worry-it'll-be-fine smile that she was so practiced at.

Inuyasha was certainly trying. But Kikyou seemed content to just lounge by their private pool deck and go get massages at the hotel spa at least twice a day. There was a boardwalk just south of their hotel that he'd been dying to check out, and Kikyou had of course consented to go with him, but it seemed that she was putting it off as much as she could.

He sighed. He supposed he couldn't blame her. Being Kikyou Higurashi was no doubt a full-time job, and he couldn't begrudge her wanting to take some time for herself and recharge.

"Dammit," Kagome muttered. She'd broken the nib of her pencil. "I have to go back to the room to get another one. Do you need anything?"

Inuyasha grinned at her, ruffling her hair. "Yeah," he said, "I need an amusement park buddy. Come on."

Kagome protested, but not for very long, and soon they were buckled into a rickety wooden roller coaster, climbing to the top of a very precarious-looking drop. Kagome had her face in her hands and seemed to be praying to every god in every religion. Inuyasha just laughed.

And then they dropped. Kagome's arms both gripped Inuyasha's forearm so tight that he was sure she'd leave a mark. She was screaming the most incoherent and ridiculous things. Perhaps praying to all those gods had left her speaking in tongues. He, for one, couldn't stop laughing.

The ride ended, and Kagome stood up shakily, her curly hair streaming in every which direction. They exited, and Inuyasha reached out to help her along as they descended the path out of the ride gate.

"You okay?" he asked. Poor kid. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. It might have been too much, too soon. He should have started her off with the go-karts or something.

"That…" she whispered, still gripping his arm like her life depended on it, "...was AWESOME!" She jumped up straight and pulled him back around to the ride entrance. "Let's do it again!"

They went up a second time. Kagome still had her hands over her face, but this time, when she saw Inuyasha laughing, she started to laugh too, and playfully elbowed him in the side.

Inuyasha blinked his eyes open and realized he'd been smiling in his sleep. That had been such a good memory. They'd left Kikyou in the hotel cabana for practically the rest of the vacation, going surfing on the beach, renting a supercar to race around the city streets, doing drunken karaoke in a dive bar with the island natives in the wee hours of the morning…

Kikyou had of course been a little upset with both of them, and had coincidentally given Kagome a bunch of extra work the next week to keep her occupied and out of sight.

He reached across to kiss Kagome good morning and found only an empty spot. Grumbling a little under his breath, he stretched and rolled out of bed, making his way toward the faint noises in the kitchen.

He heard Kagome's voice once he entered the living room, and felt his heart thump like a teenager's again. That sound...every morning...in his home. It was all he had ever wanted. Even with the world outside surely going up in flames, he had this.

Inuyasha rounded the corner into the kitchen to find Kanna seated at the island, wearing one of Kagome's old concert shirts and some way-too-large shorts, with an entire Belgian waffle between her teeth, whipped cream, fruit, and all.

"You look like you're enjoying your breakfast," Inuyasha muttered with a smirk. Kanna just looked at him as she silently chewed.

Feeling that familiar awkwardness under the kid's steady stare, he pulled up a stool and grabbed a glass of what looked like fresh-squeezed orange juice. Nazuna and Kagome stood side-by-side over the stovetop, Kagome operating the waffle iron and Nazuna making what smelled like bacon and sausage.

"Morning," Inuyasha said, taking a generous gulp of juice.

Nazuna returned the greeting brightly and immediately sprang to bring him a plate. Kagome remained at the waffle-maker and glanced over her shoulder, giving him a weak but loving smile and saying nothing.

Inuyasha frowned. "You okay?"

Kagome just nodded reassuringly as she turned back around. "What time is it?" she asked quietly, staring down at the countertop in front of her.

Inuyasha pulled his phone from his pocket and checked. "About seven-fifty-five. Why?"

Without another word, Kagome rushed past everyone and into the living room, where she turned the TV on.

Oh, shit, right. Oscar noms.

"Come on, kid," Inuyasha said, clapping Kanna on the shoulder, "Let's go see how busy I'm gonna be this month."

 


 

"The Oscar nominations for Best Foreign Language Film are…"

The person on the screen began reading off names, one by one. Kagome was holding her breath, she knew it. Even Inuyasha's head resting gently on her shoulder wasn't the source of comfort and relaxation it usually was.

Inuyasha seemed to notice. "Hey," he murmured, nudging the top of his head into the side of hers oh-so-gently, "Whether I get this or not, who cares? I have you. That's all that matters."

Kagome gave him a reassuring smile but felt like sinking further into the couch. You shouldn't have to choose. She felt like screaming with frustration once again.

"I've never seen any of these movies," Kanna said, balancing her plate on her skinny knees and digging into her third(? fourth?) Belgian waffle of the morning.

"No one has," Inuyasha chuckled, "Unless you get paid to."

"Oh wait," Kanna said, "I did see yours." She pointed to the screen, where the poster splash of 'The Red Robe' was flashing across the screen, accompanied by text announcing its nomination for Best Editing.

"Sucked, didn't it?" Inuyasha grinned and gave a playful wince, as if bracing himself for Kanna's hot take.

"It wasn't...good, no," Kanna said, and Inuyasha shot Kagome a knowing glance, still smiling, "But you were good in it."

Kagome felt her heart thump and wanted to curl into a ball hugging her knees and shut the world out for the rest of the day.

"Aw, thanks, kid," Inuyasha said, reaching to ruffle Kanna's hair. Kanna didn't reply, just took another bite of that waffle.

 


 

"Houshi, cut it out," Sango muttered, trying to push him away from laying another round of voracious kisses all over her neck. Not that she minded, of course, but she had to concentrate, dammit!

She grabbed the remote and turned up the TV, where the announcers were starting on the supporting actor awards.

"Wait, what the fuck?"

"What the fuck?"

"A nomination for...Naraku?"

 


 

"And now, the nominations for Best Actor are…"

Kagome felt her knuckles starting to hurt where they gripped her knees. Inuyasha ran his thumb over the back of her right hand, and she barely noticed.

 


 

The list of names was read off.

Sango and Miroku waited until it was over, then turned to look at each other silently.

"YES!" Sango flung her arms around Miroku's neck and kissed him. "WE DID IT!"

"OW! JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH-"

"Oh, crap, Houshi, I forgot!"

"You...forgot? You forgot my life-threatening injury?"

"Oh shut up. You know that's not what I meant. I just got so excited! We have so much to do! I gotta call Inuyasha and congratulate him!"

She reached for her phone, and Miroku's hand closed over hers. "I'd wait just a minute for that," he said, nodding at the screen, "There's still one more little detail we need to find out here. Give it, like, thirty seconds."

 


 

"Congratulations, sir!" Nazuna bounded into the living room and threw her arms around Inuyasha, who had bounded off the couch ecstatically when his name had been announced.

"Thanks! Holy shit, they did it. Those crazy idiots Miroku and Sango did it." Inuyasha was like a little boy getting his first video game system for Christmas.

Kagome had cheered more out of relief than anything, and had kissed him joyfully. She laughed as he picked Nazuna up and spun her around once. Then he turned to Kanna.

Kanna's facial expression, of course, hadn't changed, but she swallowed her bite of waffle and wordlessly held out a small fist for him to bump.

This made him double over in laughter before he completed the gesture.

There was so much commotion in this giant living room, the sounds echoing off the marble floors, that Kagome almost missed the sound of a very, very familiar last name being called out for the next category of nominations.

Almost.

She sighed, leaned back, closed her eyes. It was as she'd thought. Still Kikyou's day, even with Naraku's surprise nomination no doubt throwing everyone for a very confused loop. And unless something astronomical happened, it would be Kikyou's win. Over all of them.

The Best Picture nominations apparently also included 'The Red Robe,' because Kanna spoke up next to her. "That seems strange. It really wasn't a very good movie."

"No, but the money Warner threw around was good for sure," she heard Inuyasha chuckle. Nothing was dampening his spirits now.

"Champagne to celebrate!" Nazuna's footsteps were heard bounding out of the room.

Kagome felt Inuyasha settle back on the couch next to her, felt his arms circle around her shoulders, felt him kiss her cheek.

"You okay?" he whispered. He sounded genuinely confused. Of course he did. He was being the optimist to end all optimists.

"I'm fine," she lied, "Just a little tired."

"Well, let's get you coffee," he said, nuzzling her ear, "This is a day for partying our asses off. In my honor, of course, because I'm super important or something now. I'm gonna take you out on the town and we're gonna have a blast."

Kagome opened her eyes and stared up at him, unable to return the smile he was giving her. "I know you're going to think I'm horrible," she whispered, "but I'm-"

The TV suddenly blasted out that same last name Kagome was starting to regret having attached to herself. An exclusive interview. Kikyou Higurashi sitting down with Yura Kaminoke.

"What the hell?" Kagome sat upright and grabbed the remote to turn it up.

 


 

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Miroku groaned, shoving a pillow over his own face.

His attempt to end it all was thwarted by Sango snatching the pillow away and shushing him as she leaned closer to hear the TV, her face set in a cold fury.

It was vicious. And so calculatingly brilliant. Miroku almost felt that old familiar pull of respect at the sheer gall it took to pull this off. It was almost worthy of Sango herself.

"Kikyou," Yura said, in that cross-legged serious journalistic pose with her face etched in simpering concern, "Your acceptance speech at the Golden Globes was wonderfully empowering. A call for women to not tolerate being treated badly and to lift each other up. You've taken this terrible time in your own life to reach out to help others, but how difficult was it to get up in front of all those people and basically admit you're the victim of adultery?"

Kikyou smiled softly, then looked aside, blinking back those tears that she always seemed able to summon at the most opportune moments. "It was extremely hard," she said, her voice shaking, "but I think it's important, especially in this business, to let people know that you're human. That you love and you lose, that you get betrayed, that sometimes people you think you know aren't who you think they are at all. It happens to me like it happens to you. And I thought a show of solidarity was appropriate. It happens too often. And it needs to stop."

Sango was chewing on her thumbnail, glaring at the screen. "This bitch," she muttered into her hand, seemingly to herself, "This fucking bitch. Aired the interview right after the noms to be certain everyone important is watching."

Miroku agreed with her, and felt once again like kicking himself. He'd underestimated the lengths Kikyou would go to to make herself into the poor, cheated-on angel in this situation. They all had. And every time they thought she was done, she pulled some other evil little trick out of her hat.

The interview continued, with vague mentions of Kagome and how Kikyou just felt so hurt, how she'd called her sister several times just trying to understand why Kagome had felt the need to betray her like this (another bold-faced lie), how all she wanted was to salvage some sort of relationship with Kagome somewhere down the road, but she wasn't sure it was possible…

 


 

"Turn it off," Inuyasha said, clearly a little miffed but trying to shake it off, "We don't need to hear that shit. Let's all just be happy right now." He grabbed the remote out of Kagome's hand and shut off the television.

Kagome had her hands clasped in front of her, and they were shaking again.

"Kagome," Inuyasha said, taking her hands in his own, "I meant what I said. I don't care what they do anymore. All I care about is you. So let's just relax and enjoy the perks and party favors for the next few weeks."

Kagome didn't reply, just stared down at their intertwined hands.

"Besides," he chuckled, clearly trying to lighten the mood, "from what it looks like, this is the last Oscar nomination you and I will ever have to worry about, right?"

"Kanna," Kagome said, trying to avoid shouting, "Should I take you home?"

Kanna turned and looked over her shoulder, her dark eyes giving Kagome a once-over before she seemed to get the hint and nodded slowly.

"Okay." Kagome forced a smile and kissed Inuyasha as she stood up. "Let me get dressed and I'll take you."

Inuyasha made to follow her into the bedroom, and Kagome stopped him with a hand on his chest. "No, you stay here. Drink some champagne. I need to pick out a dress if we're going to go party tonight, right?"

His look of confusion faded into a grin of delight.

A few minutes later, Kagome was pulling out of the driveway with Kanna riding shotgun. "So where should I drop you off?" she said conversationally.

"It doesn't matter," Kanna said noncommittally, "I'm legally emancipated from my parents. They live in New York. The hospital will be just fine."

At Kagome's stunned silence, Kanna turned away from where she had been gazing out the passenger side window and fixed her with that unblinking stare. "Or we could go together. If you want. To do whatever it is that you had to find an excuse to leave the house for."

Kagome swallowed, hesitated, and nodded. "Just so you know," she grumbled, turning out of the gated drive, "What I have to do isn't gonna be pretty."

"Good," Kanna said, turning to look out the window again, dressed in one of Kagome's shirts and some denim shorts, turning up the hard rock playing on the radio. "I find pretty things to be extremely overrated."

Chapter 60: Black Furniture

Summary:

In which Kagome gets the answer she's expecting but not hoping for, Miroku and Sango decide for once to use their powers for good and not evil, and Kanna makes a crazy request out of the blue.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Sixty

Black Furniture

 

"...So anyway, congratulations, pal. I really mean that. Sure, we did most of the work, but…" Miroku winked at Sango before continuing the phone conversation, "...So are we going out tonight to celebrate? Somewhere obscenely expensive and full of debauchery? But not too much debauchery, considering you're still on the paparazzi's hit list right now…"

Sango lit a cigarette and took a drag, then handed it to Miroku, who took it eagerly as he kept chatting away.

"...Kagome left, you say?"

Sango sat up straight, fixing Miroku with a look of alarm. "She what?"

Miroku held up a finger to shush her as he listened to Inuyasha speaking on the other end of the phone. "...Well, that's kinda fun, isn't it?" he said eventually, "She went shopping, did she?"

Sango covered her face with both palms and took a deep breath.

"That sure sounds like Kagome," Miroku said, rolling his eyes, "Well, guess we'll see you both tonight then. Hopefully something terrible won't happen before then...hahaha, just kidding!"

He hung up and fixed Sango with a smirk. "Well, isn't this dandy. Bet you a hundred bucks I know where she's really headed."

"Fuck," Sango said, grabbing her phone, "I'm calling her."

There was no answer. Of course there was no answer.

"What do we do?" Sango mumbled into her hands, sinking back onto the pillows.

Miroku took a drag of the cigarette, thought for a minute, and ashed it on the bedside tray.

"We hope and pray she's not going to punch the bitch out in public," he said, sliding back onto the bed and enfolding Sango in his arms, "That's all we can do. A public catfight would be hot as shit, of course, but it would be devastating to our side of the story."

 


 

"That's quite a lot of cameras," Kanna mused, her face pressed up against the window of the car, sticking her tongue out at the paparazzi waiting outside Kikyou's gate.

It was a lot of cameras. No doubt bought and paid for to stand watch outside the queen's castle just in case there was a chance to milk the publicity some more. Kagome felt that fear bubble in her guts again, but shook herself out of it. Anger trumped fear of public humiliation every time.

As soon as she rolled the window down to try and punch the gate code in, the shouts of "Kagome! Do you have anything to say about your sister? Are you seeing Inuyasha? Were you seeing him behind her back? How do you feel about being labeled a homewrecker by virtually every gossip site?" were almost deafening. She ignored them, glad her eyes were shielded behind her sunglasses, as she reached past them and punched in the numbers.

It didn't work.

Of fucking course she changed the code. Of course I have to actually ring up to the house.

She pressed the buzzer, fighting to keep the scowl off her face. Kanna, to her right, was now making a ridiculous face at the paps by smushing her nose upward like a pig's on the window glass.

"Hello?"

Ah, and of course Kikyou answers the buzzer herself now, rather than making one of the dozen maids do it. She's probably been keeping the house phone near her at all times. This is so great. This is just fabulous.

"It's Kagome," Kagome said, keeping her tone polite and fighting to keep the malice out of it in front of the flashing cameras.

A prolonged pause. And then, "...Kagome? Oh. It's good to hear your voice again. I thought -"

"Can you let me in? I want to talk." Don't give her a chance to spin it her direction. Keep it short and simple.

"...Of course I will! I've missed you."

"Uh huh. See you in a minute." Kagome rolled up the window and waited for the gate to swing open, honking at the paps to get out of the way before she continued up the drive.

Hojo answered the door and Kagome and Kanna ducked inside before he could say anything.

"Oh! Miss Kagome. Um...I don't know if you should be here…" He looked around nervously.

"It's fine, Hojo," Kagome said, keeping her sunglasses on, "Kikyou let us in. I'm sure you're off the hook. Where is she?"

Hojo swallowed, then said, "She's out by the pool."

Kanna put her hand in Kagome's, a show of that quiet solidarity that Kagome was growing used to, and drawing on that strength was what helped Kagome take those steps forward toward the backyard.

Kikyou was in her strapless white bikini again, laying out in the sun, talking animatedly on the phone. If she noticed Kagome approaching, she gave no sign until Kagome plopped herself onto the adjacent pool chair.

She seemed content to keep Kagome waiting with her arms and legs crossed for a few more minutes, then hung up with a cheerful laugh and a promise to see whoever it was soon. With a small, bored yawn, Kikyou sat up and stretched, then fixed Kagome with a smirk.

"I see you brought your little mascot," she said, nodding at Kanna, who was standing directly behind Kagome. "How precious."

"She's not my mascot," Kagome said, irritated on how she was suddenly on the defensive. "I don't parade children around as props, unlike you."

Kikyou laughed and sank back onto her pool chair, crossing her long, tanned legs. "I'm honestly proud of you," she said, her voice sickeningly sweet, "I wouldn't have thought you had the nerve to show your face anywhere in this town."

"I just came to get the last of my stuff," Kagome snapped, "That is, if you haven't destroyed it all already. And to say what I have to say, right to your face. Rather than behind your back."

"You always were sanctimonious as all hell," Kikyou sneered, "Say it, then. I'm sure this will be good."

Kagome took a deep breath, feeling her heart pounding a mile a minute. "You're my older sister. You will always be my older sister, whether you and I like it or not."

Kikyou stared at her evenly, remaining silent. Kagome continued.

"But I have spent my entire life," she ground out, "pretending that my happiness is second to yours. Your needs always came first. I gave up college. I gave up a career. I even gave up on Inuyasha, when I thought you truly loved him and he loved you.

"And you threw me under the bus at the first possible opportunity. I just want to know if there was one small moment, anywhere in time, where you even loved me at all."

Kikyou raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you love bloodsucking mosquitoes?"

There was silence for a moment, and then all Kagome could say was, "Wow."

It was as if she'd been punched in the stomach.

Kikyou sniffed derisively and readjusted herself in the pool chair. "You can leave now," she said, her voice sounding as if she didn't have a care in the world, "You're blocking my sun."

Kagome stood up, her fists clenched. "Thank you for being honest," she said softly.

Kikyou closed her eyes. "I don't know what you expected, coming here," she said, "but I can at least give you some advice. You should probably go find some desert island and hide there for the rest of your days. You found true love, Kagome. Isn't it grand?"

Kagome turned on her heel and walked away, feeling the angry tears springing to her eyes but refusing to let her sister see them.

"You're a gigantic witch and I hope you grow hairy warts," Kanna said to Kikyou behind her, before running to catch up and taking Kagome's hand again.

Before they could rush back out the front door, they were stopped by Hojo, who had a box of random knick-knacks in his arms. "I thought you would want these," he said, looking over his shoulder toward the pool area, "I'm not really supposed to have saved these, but they're all that's left from your room -"

Kagome fought back a choked sob and kissed Hojo on the cheek, taking the box into her arms and looking over its contents. A few dented movies, her video game controller (no console, of course), and two smashed cameras that didn't look very salvageable. And some photos, including one of her and Kikyou on the day of Kagome's high school graduation.

She picked the photo out of the stack and handed it to Hojo. "You can keep that one," she murmured through the lump in her throat, "Throw it out if you want."

 


 

"Hi, Miroku."

The voice on the other end was subdued. It sounded like she had been crying. "Kagome?" Miroku said, "You okay?"

"Peachy."

"How did your meeting with Kikyou go?"

"...How did you - oh, right. Inuyasha probably said something and you drew your own conclusions."

"Ten points to you, sweetheart. You haven't answered my question." Miroku took a sip of coffee and tried to ignore Sango, who was perched over him like a hawk trying to listen in on the conversation.

"About as expected. I got the answer I needed. So now I can fully start embracing hating the bitch."

Miroku wished he could send a high-five over the phone, but he knew that it was neither the time nor the place to be gleeful.

"This is gonna be a hell of a month, darlin. The gossip sites are already trying to pinpoint when you two started 'sleeping around behind her back.' They've already identified you as the mysterious girl in the park all those months ago. Took them long enough, I guess."

Kagome didn't reply.

"I just wish we had some sort of damning evidence on her," he griped, more to himself and Sango than to Kagome, "Something to reveal her as the manipulative bitch she is. If she wants to play dirty, we can too. Taking the moral high ground hasn't worked, and plus, it's for pussies."

Sango nodded, leaning in to speak into the phone's receiver. "Wish you'd worn a wire to that bitch's house, Kagome," she said, with a small smile.

"Yeah." Kagome's voice was very distant-sounding. "Too bad. I have to go. Dress shopping was my alibi. See you guys later."

Miroku hung up. "Poor sweet kid," he said, staring glumly down at the phone in his hand. "She didn't sign up for any of this."

"At least we've got Naraku back in the picture," Sango said with a shrug, "Hard for Kikyou to look like the lonely little victim with that idiot in her corner. And you know he's going to go to the press, declaring his love for her all over again."

"Unless she asks him not to," Miroku pointed out, "She says jump, he asks how high. He thinks she's doing all this press shit for both of them. The poor, naive fool."

Sango frowned as if deep in thought. "Unless…" she said softly, "We can get to him in private when he gets back from Mongolia today. Studio's flying him in last minute. They were as floored by the nomination as we were."

Miroku smiled at Sango. He loved when he could practically see the wheels turning in her brain. "Oh, babe," he said, leaning up to kiss her, "I love it when you talk dirty."

 


 

"Your stuff is all broken," Kanna said, peering down into the cardboard box full of the remnants of Kagome's former life.

Kagome didn't answer, just took another bite of her sandwich and stared straight ahead. She was grateful for the oversized sunglasses hiding her tear-stained cheeks. Kanna, bless her, had just let Kagome cry for a bit without saying anything.

They were sitting on a park bench with seagulls all around them, clearly waiting for them to drop a morsel of deli sandwich. Kanna's four or five Belgian waffles this morning didn't seem to have dampened her appetite at all, and she'd devoured her own sandwich in about sixty seconds.

"The wicked witch broke your cameras," Kanna observed, lifting one out and turning it over in her small hands, "You should say a prayer that she gets struck by lightning."

Kagome gave a slight smirk, tossing the last bite of sandwich to the gulls and leaning back into the bench. "You say one for me," she said.

"I need a skull and a summoning circle," Kanna said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world, "but I'll do it as soon as I can." She wavered slightly in her seat, closing her dark eyes for a moment.

"You okay?" Kagome sat up and turned to her.

"Tired," Kanna said, "My medicine is super poisonous but it kills the bad stuff inside me. I find that interesting. Quod me nutrit, me destruit. That's Latin. It's a dead language. I want to learn more dead languages in college."

"Let's get you back to the hospital," Kagome said quickly, standing up and leading her to the car. "I'm so sorry I kept you out this long."

"Why?" Kanna asked.

"Uh, because you're not feeling well?"

"I'd feel better if I lived with you."

Kagome stopped in her tracks. "Wait, what?"

Kanna just fixed her with that stare. "The hospital is lonely and I have no friends. The nurses are nice but they have eyes of pity. I don't like pity."

Kagome, flabbergasted, tried to think of how best to reply.

Kanna blinked. "Is that a good enough reason?"

"Uh, listen. You literally just met us -"

"You can speak to Inuyasha if you want," Kanna said softly, playing with the hem of the tee shirt she was wearing, "It's his house. But what if you didn't let me live there and I died alone?"

Jesus H Christ, Kanna!

"I'll...think about it," Kagome said, feeling very nervous and awkward, "But no promises, okay?"

"That's fine," Kanna said, opening the car door and gently climbing inside, "Promises are often broken anyway. I would like black furniture for my room, please."

It was a very bewildered, silent car ride as Kagome got them back to the hospital. Kanna had spent the entire time going through the box, picking at everything like a curious treasure hunter.

"Do you want me to come in with you and get you settled?" Kagome asked as they pulled into the parking lot.

"No, thank you," Kanna said, turning a broken camera over in her hands, "I have a card key for the elevator. It's my magic pass into the land of dying faster than everyone else." She followed this with a pointed gaze into Kagome's eyes.

Lay it on a little thicker, kid, why don't you? Kagome gave a weak smile, unsure of what to say.

"Oh look," Kanna said softly, pulling something out of the camera, "The memory card is still intact." She pressed it into Kagome's palm.

"I don't think I want to look at any of those," Kagome said, frowning, "Those are probably from when Inuyasha and Kikyou shot 'The Red Robe.' Painful memories."

"The best memories are the painful ones," Kanna said pointedly, "Those are the ones that teach you things. Go look at them and draw mustaches on the wicked witch's face. That will make you feel better. That's what I did to all of Mayu's photos one day when she put ink in my tea. It felt like a beautiful blissful hole of darkness."

"...Okey dokey."

"See you soon," Kanna said, closing the car door and mouthing through the window glass what looked like 'Black furniture.'

 


 

"So what do you think?" Sango said, batting her eyes and trying not to burst out laughing, "I, for one, think it would be wonderful."

Naraku scratched his head, then eased into a confident, self-satisfied grin and leaned back in the passenger seat. "I think it could be cool."

"Excellent," Sango said quickly as she exited the freeway. She had oh-so-kindly volunteered to drive Naraku home from the airport for the studio, making sure to let it slip to Warner's goons that his flight time had been delayed so they would feed the false intel to Kikyou's end. She was probably on her way to the airport now, no doubt wearing what resembled more funeral attire, to be comforted publicly by the ex-boyfriend who she was now lauding to the press as the good ex in the situation. Sango felt like cackling her ass off.

"Now remember," she said, "The best surprises are true surprises. She'll remember it all the more if she has no idea."

"You're right," Naraku agreed heartily, "And the studio's really going to give us a movie together if I do it?"

"Not only that," she said, leaning toward him conspiratorially, "They're going to make it their headliner blockbuster of next Oscar season. Your careers have nowhere to go but up, up, up!"

Naraku exited the car ride looking very pleased with himself indeed. As she pulled away, Sango called Miroku.

"I think we got it, Houshi. See you in a few minutes for drinks and some wild celebratory sex."

Chapter 61: The Dawn Of Realization

Summary:

In which Inuyasha is trying to think positive, Kagome is decidedly unable to, Kanna ends up helping in more ways than one, and Miroku asks Sango a question or two.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Sixty-One

The Dawn Of Realization

 

Kagome ended up taking Kanna's advice. She couldn't let it rest.

After kissing Inuyasha hello and having a glass of champagne so she didn't look like the stick in the mud she was actually being, she made a vague excuse about having to use the bathroom and slipped away. Detouring into the bedroom, she grabbed her laptop and, with the memory card in her clenched fist, she ducked into the master bath, locking the door behind her.

With nowhere but the toilet to sit, she found herself clambering into the claw-footed bathtub and pulling up the images, her knees curled up to her chest as she inserted the memory card and started to click through the loading images.

Photos of her and Inuyasha making stupid faces at the camera while waiting for setups in the craft services tent. There were so many of these, and Kagome, despite her heart currently feeling like a stone in her chest, couldn't help but smile weakly at them. Back when we both didn't know any better, she thought.

Photos of Kikyou and Inuyasha hanging out in the trailer. Kikyou leaning on Inuyasha's chest as they read through scripts together. Kagome sighed heavily and brushed her hair out of her eyes.

A photo of herself in the mirror, her hair in braids and her smile easygoing and carefree. Her face was dirty with sand and muck, and she was holding out her arm to display the gigantic cut across it. It had been the result of her getting a little too close behind the movie cameras to take pictures, placing herself right in the path of a stuntman's arrow that had accidentally been released. Thank goodness it had been safety-tipped, but it had split her skin in a jagged four-inch pattern nonetheless. Inuyasha and the stuntman responsible had immediately broken up the shot and rushed to her side, Inuyasha looking absolutely grey in the face and then furious, but she had reassured both of them that it was just a flesh wound and that she would be proud of her scar and the story behind it. There followed after a photo of her grinning, holding up her arm and the stuntman clapping his hands over his eyes in exaggerated mock-horror. She giggled a little to herself. That had been a fun day.

And then, photos of the cast trip to some ancient ruins nearby. They had set up a huge tent and proceeded to drink more beer than they probably should have, given the blisteringly hot climate. There were several shots of Inuyasha and the crew in what looked like an arm-wrestling competition, some of them blurry with motion as Kagome had no doubt been jostled around by the tipsy crowd.

A knock on the bathroom door jolted Kagome out of her nostalgia. "Kagome?" It was Inuyasha's voice. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly, "I'll be there in a second."

"You sure you're okay?" he said, his voice muffled through the wood, "You've been gone for a while."

"I said I'll be there in a second!" Immediately she realized that she had basically snapped at him, and she followed it with, "Just go back and enjoy yourself. I'm okay, really."

"Alright, that's it," he muttered, and with a resounding crack, the doorframe splintered and the door flew open, Inuyasha's foot held high where he'd just kicked the door jamb to pieces.

Damn him and his inhuman strength.

 


 

Kagome shrieked in surprise and ducked down in the tub, as if that would hide her presence or something.

"I know when you're lying to me, Kagome. I know you better than I know myself half the time. What the hell is going on with you?"

Inuyasha was angry. Well and truly angry. His arms were folded tightly across his chest as he took in the sight of her, sitting fully clothed in the bathtub hunched over her laptop screen.

"N-nothing," she murmured, trying to close the laptop quickly as she flashed him what she probably thought was a reassuring smile.

He sprang forward and snatched the computer out of her reach. "This isn't nothing. Stop lying to me, god dammit." He stepped out of range and quickly scanned the screen. "Where the hell did these come from?"

"I found an old memory card," Kagome said, not meeting his eyes. She looked equal parts ashamed and distant, and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Inuyasha sighed. He knew she was lying some more, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

"If there's something wrong," he said testily, "Talk to me about it so I can help you."

"There's nothing you can do right now," Kagome said, still not looking at him, "I'm just trying to sort through some shit. That's all."

"You went to Kikyou's house."

She seemed to slouch deeper into the tub, but said nothing.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out about it when Miroku and Sango called me harping about all the pap photos that just hit the internet?" He knew he was yelling, but he didn't care. "Why don't you stop treating me like an idiot who doesn't understand and tell me what happened? Why you even went over there in the first place, if you knew it was going to make you feel like this?"

Kagome didn't reply, just placed her hands over her face and sighed.

A few moments of silence, with only the sound of Inuyasha's heavy breathing.

"You know what? Fuck it," he said finally, stepping forward and handing the laptop back to her, "I'll leave you alone. Seems like you just want to be miserable right now. So go ahead and wallow in your misery."

She didn't answer.

"You know, this isn't how you win in a hard situation. I'm a fucking moron, but I know that much. If you fall apart and can't be happy, if you can't just let yourself say, 'Go fuck yourself' to anyone that tries to make you feel bad, then you're in for a whole world of hurt. You're letting her win."

With that, Inuyasha turned and stalked out of the bathroom, past the now-broken door frame, and paused for a moment.

Was I too harsh? Probably. I usually am. He turned back to say something else, apologize for the outburst.

Kagome was already wordlessly opening the laptop again, scanning the images of that godforsaken movie shoot once more. The apology died in his throat.

"We're going out to Greystone Manor," Inuyasha snapped, not that she seemed to be listening, "Kouga and Ayame are showing up too, and I know Miroku and Sango would really, really like to see you tonight. If you care to come. If not, have a good night and I'll just wait for you to come to your senses."

He all but stomped into the bedroom closet, snatching a suit off the rack and dressing himself furiously. He knew he was probably being childish, but Kagome acting like this was just so...not Kagome. She had never acted like this to him, except for when…

"Wait a second. Is she here?" Inuyasha scanned Kagome's stricken face, feeling like some unknown entity had just sucked the breath right out of him.

Kagome quickly shook her head, but her eyes…

Her bright blue eyes, filling with tears, were what betrayed her.

"Kagome," Inuyasha hissed, drawing closer to her, "Talk to me. What the hell is going on?"

"Please, let's just get out of here," she said, her tone almost desperate.

"Why?" he demanded, "Tell me why."

She closed her eyes, swallowed, then reopened them and answered softly, so softly. "I don't want to hurt you."

Inuyasha wasn't prepared for an answer like that. "What? Hurt me? What are you talking about -"

Kagome's hand found his, and she intertwined her fingers with his. He would have blushed if he hadn't been so damn flabbergasted.

"I didn't know how to tell you," she said, "This is all my fault. I let it come to this. Please, please, whatever happens, don't hate me."

"I could never hate you," he murmured, meaning it, but very aware of the sinking feeling in his guts. "Kagome, please, for the love of god, tell me what the hell is going on."

Kagome just kept her eyes on their linked hands. She seemed to take a deep breath, then let it out slowly, trying to calm herself down.

"Where is she?" Inuyasha whispered, feeling a cold sweat break out over his face, steeling himself for the answer.

Kagome's eyes were suddenly bored into his, and he was a little taken aback at the sheer grief in her gaze. Like she was mourning the death of a friend.

"She's in the VIP section upstairs." Her voice was little more than a whimper. She looked at him like she was trying to memorize him for a second, then her face crumpled into tears and she tore away from him and headed for the door.

His legs feeling like jelly, Inuyasha ascended the stairs.

What happened next felt like a blur.

The sight of Kikyou, the woman he was so certain he'd be spending the rest of his life with, in that man's arms.

His own throat hurting with the force of his furious, almost incoherent screams.

Kikyou shrinking away, looking shocked and frightened, and his resulting feelings of almost guilt at scaring her.

The guy she was with hovering in front of her protectively, which just enraged Inuyasha further.

Hands looping around both of his arms and pulling him forcefully away.

The studio publicists frantically passing out the NDA's to the crew members, with threats of never working again if they didn't sign.

Inuyasha awoke the next morning, bleary-eyed and still half-drunk, and reported to work on time, where he was informed that Kikyou would be shooting the remainder of her scenes with a double and that their times on set would be staggered to avoid one another.

So he crawled into a whiskey bottle and stayed there for the better part of a year.

 


 

The door swung shut and banged against the now-warped door frame, swinging back open slightly. Kagome winced at the noise, but just let herself sink further into the bathtub as she looked over the rest of the images

She was dimly aware of the front door opening and shutting, leaving her alone in the place. Alone in her den of craziness. She sniffled and felt a tear silently rolled down her face as she nigh-obsessively kept clicking through.

More shots of that ancient ruins party. The sun had set in most of these, and the night air was peeking through under the giant tent canopy while everyone danced, drank, and had a great time.

A video file of the party. Kagome was shouting something playful to her camera, which was completely lost in the roar of the crowd and the music, and then she clambered shakily onto a tabletop to film the rest of the party. Inuyasha was right alongside her, holding her legs steady so the table didn't upend. He grinned up at her and flipped the camera off, and her foot gently nudged him in admonishment as she no doubt laughingly scolded him.

The camera started to shakily pan around, with the crowd all waving and making silly faces when they saw her pointed in their direction.

Kagome's laugh caught in her throat, and she shoved herself forward, not believing what she was seeing.

Holy shit. I owe Kanna a full bedroom set. And college tuition. And a Visa card.

Scooping up the laptop in her arms, she scrambled out of the tub, wanting to call for Inuyasha but remembering he wasn't there, and feeling an almost painful burst of regret at how she'd been acting.

Shaking her head, Kagome raced to the bedroom, where she tossed the closed laptop onto the bed and frantically grabbed the dress she'd bought this afternoon.

A simple, black party dress, backless, with a halter clasp and plenty of cleavage. She couldn't help but giggle at the way this had all worked out as she threw the dress on and set to piling on her stud bracelets and lacing up her trusty black combat boots.

She lined her eyes with black and silver, tossed her black curls into a loose updo, with loose locks forming a voluminous halo around her face. She grinned at her own reflection, laughing at how stupid she'd been, at how hopeless and unworthy of all the trouble she'd felt.

She was absolutely worth the trouble. And so was he.

Kagome loved Inuyasha. Inuyasha loved Kagome.

And the truth would set them all free.

She'd had twenty-three years to grow claws. And hers were painted sparkly black.

 


 

"Hi, Inuyasha," Ayame kissed his cheek in greeting, looking stunning in a pale green bandage dress. "Where's Kagome?"

"She wasn't feeling well," Inuyasha said, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he still felt like punching through the table they were all sitting at. "She might make it later, but I doubt it."

Ayame pouted. "Aww, that's too bad. I hope she feels better soon."

Yeah, me fucking too. Inuyasha knocked back the rest of his drink. He'd ducked past the paps waiting at the door, grateful for once for Greystone Manor's hoity-toity waitlist and exclusivity. They'd shouted all sorts of infuriating questions at him, no doubt baiting him for any kind of reaction. They would have done the same to Kagome, of course, but if she'd been there it would have been much easier for him to tolerate.

Ayame turned to Kouga, who was sitting beside her, looking more lovestruck than he ever had in his life. "Kouga, go get us some drinks, will you?" she said, smiling and tapping him on the nose.

"Yes, ma'am," Kouga said, leaning in for a kiss and springing out of his seat to obey her.

Oh how the tides have turned in a matter of days, Inuyasha thought, fighting back a snort of incredulous laughter. And all she needed to do was a standing backflip.

"Evening, all," Miroku appeared behind him, clapping him on the shoulder and making him jump, "Congratulations again, pretty boy. You're the king of the world. Just like good old Jim Cameron when he won his Oscar."

"Easy there, tiger," Sango said, sitting down across from Inuyasha with a cheerful smile and letting Miroku help her out of her coat, "No one's won anything yet. If they had, we'd be on vacation, right?"

"Can it be a nudist beach?" Miroku asked, sliding in next to her with a dopey, expectant grin on his face. She shoved him back with a hand over his face, laughing.

Inuyasha stared at the tabletop, feeling quite subdued without Kagome there. He should have just bitten the bullet and apologized. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like shit as much.

"Where's Kagome?" Sango and Miroku asked in unison, then grinned at each other.

"You two are so cute it's disgusting," Ayame said, her smile dazzling as she stuck out her tongue at them, taking her drink from a returning Kouga's outstretched hand.

Inuyasha didn't answer, just shrugged. Ayame helped out. "She's sick tonight, which totally sucks. It's really just not the same without her here."

Preaching to the choir. Inuyasha took the drink Kouga handed him and knocked half of it back in one gulp.

He was dimly aware of Miroku and Sango staring at him suspiciously, but ignored it.

 


 

"Greystone Manor, please," Kagome said frantically to the cab driver, clambering into the backseat, her laptop safely tucked in its bag and slung over her shoulder, "And please hurry."

"Hey," the cab driver said after a few moments of driving as he looked in the rearview mirror at her, "You're that Kagome girl. Kikyou Higurashi's sister."

Kagome leaned back in her seat, her chin held high. "That I am," she said.

"I don't want to be rude or nothin'," the cab driver said, looking a little sheepish, "but my wife will kill me if she finds out I had you in my cab tonight and I didn't ask you this question." He faltered, his face very embarrassed and unsure.

"Ask away," Kagome said, with a grin.

"Are you and Inuyasha actually together or -" The cab driver cleared his throat. "What I mean is, did you steal your sister's boyfriend? Oh god, I'm so sorry, that was so rude. Just ignore me, miss."

"What's your name?" Kagome said.

The cab driver looked properly terrified, surely afraid that she was going to report him and get him fired. "C-Carl," he said quietly.

"Well, Carl," she said, leaning in conspiratorially, the grin still on her face, "Don't you worry about it. But please, for me, tell your wife not to believe anything she reads. The truth might end up surprising her."

He exhaled with obvious relief and they continued the rest of the drive in silence. Kagome tossed him an extra-large tip and exited the car with a friendly, cheerful wave goodbye.

Nothing, not even the huge crowd of paps awaiting her arrival, could dampen her spirits now.

"Kagome, are you sleeping with Inuyasha?"

"Kagome, were you able to apologize to your sister today?"

"Kagome, look this way!"

"Kagome, are you sorry at all?"

"Kagome!"

"Kagome!"

"Kagome!"

The doorman clearly noticed the commotion and realized immediately who she was and that she was the hot news of the moment. He unclipped the velvet rope and let her in, no questions asked, no cover even paid.

Kagome couldn't resist. She turned back around in the doorway and waved to the paps with a smile. "Thanks for that, guys! Let's do it again sometime."

 


 

"Well, well, well," Miroku's face lit up into a grin as he looked past Inuyasha's hunched shoulders, "Guess she's all better now."

"What?" Inuyasha sat up straight and went to swivel around in his seat, only to be met with a collision that smelled like shampoo and perfume and heaven itself. Hands dug into his hair and soft lips met his own.

"Oooh, scandalous. In front of a whole club of people, no less," he heard Miroku say, and the rest of the table chuckled.

Inuyasha's hand went to the side of Kagome's face as their lips parted, and he knew he must look dazed and confused. "Wh-what the hell? Kagome, I thought -"

"Come here for a second," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with her toward the dark hallway of the bathrooms.

"Hi, Kagome," the whole table chorused in a deadpan voice, and she looked back at them with a roll of her eyes and a wave as she railroaded Inuyasha toward the hallway.

What the hell is going on here? Is she bipolar? It's like she flipped a switch in her head. Should I be worried? Is she going to kill me? Murder-suicide pact? Inuyasha found himself very, very afraid for half a second.

That is, until she yanked him against the wall and all but threw herself into his arms, her lips smashing into his again. It was then he realized that if he was going to die, this would be the way to do it.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered into his ear. He could feel her breathing heavily, her heart pounding in her chest, flush against him, "I shouldn't have made you feel -"

"Shut up," he growled, smothering her apologies with another kiss. She whimpered and threw her arms around his neck.

"I love you," she said breathlessly, "And it's all going to be okay now."

"I love you," he smirked, letting his head collide with the wall behind him as he smiled down at her, "And it always was, ya dipstick."

"I just had to tell you that first," she stammered, starting to shakily lead him back towards the table where their friends were waiting, "And now I have something to show all of you."

"Let it wait," he said, yanking her back and ravishing her once more.

 


 

It was a few joke-filled moments before Miroku spotted the happy couple making their way back toward the table. He couldn't resist it when they slid into their seats, both grinning like idiots.

"Have fun, did you?"

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes and looked like he was going to snap out a reply, but Kagome just smiled. "I'll say," she said, looking dreamily at the man beside her, and he immediately forgot to be cross with Miroku. Win-win.

"Glad you're feeling better," Sango said, clearly fighting back laughter.

"I have good reason," Kagome said, reaching into the bag at her side and pulling out a laptop computer, which she opened and turned to face both Miroku and Sango. "Take a look at that."

It was a video file. Miroku raised an eyebrow and glanced up at Kagome. "Should I ask when this was taken?"

"About halfway through the 'Red Robe' shoot," Kagome said, that smile seemingly stuck on her face as she turned to Inuyasha at her side, "The party we had near the ancient ruins, remember that?"

"Not really," Inuyasha said, looking a little confused, "but I guess that means it was a good party."

Miroku and Sango watched the video. Halfway through, when they realized what they were seeing, Miroku was halfway aware of Sango's fingers starting to grip his wrist tighter and tighter, her expression growing more and more delighted.

"And it's timestamped," Kagome said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms, looking more relaxed and satisfied than Miroku thought he'd ever seen her.

"Video evidence," Sango whispered, "We've got what we need to set it all straight."

Kagome just nodded, leaning forward once more to rest her elbows on the table. The dreamy look on her face remained.

And then her eyes filled with tears.

"Whoa, what the fuck -" Inuyasha sprang forward and pulled her into his arms, glaring at the computer and looking even more bewildered than he usually did, "What the hell is on that computer?"

"It's okay," Kagome said, as Ayame and Kouga stood and rushed around the table, clearly concerned as well for her, "I'm just happy."

Inuyasha blinked, then started to laugh. "Now where have I heard that before," he said, forcing her chin upward with his finger and kissing her softly before pulling her even closer with another chuckle.

Miroku closed the video player and removed the memory card from where it was plugged in. "Mind if I borrow this, Kagome?" he smirked.

Kagome grinned and shook her head, wiping away her tears. "Not at all. Please do."

"Well, Sango," Miroku said, "We've got some work to do in the morning. But for tonight, a toast. To victory."

They all held their glasses aloft. Kouga, Ayame, and Inuyasha still looked a little confused, but they seemed to look around at each other and agree that for now, it didn't matter.

"Oh," Miroku said, after everyone had drunk the toast, "Just one more thing. Sorry to steal your thunder here, Inuyasha; I know it's really your night."

Inuyasha, who already knew what was going on, just smiled mischievously and waved him off. It was Kagome's turn to look bewildered, as was Sango's.

"Hey, Sango," Miroku said, turning bodily in his seat to face her, feeling his stomach start to flutter as he spoke.

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow suspiciously, inching slightly away from him. "...Yeah?" she said.

"Remember when I told you you couldn't keep calling me Houshi forever?"

SMACK.

Kagome's hand collided with the table, her eyes wide. It would seem she'd just realized where he was going with this. "HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT," she shouted, then at his pointed silence, she seemed to remember herself and shrink back, holding her hands up, "Oh, sorry, sorry, ignore me!" Inuyasha looked like he was going to burst from held-in laughter as he jokingly clapped his hand over her mouth.

"...Thank you," he said, rolling his eyes and returning his attention to the beautiful woman in front of him. "Sango, do you remember that?"

Sango's eyes were as wide as dinner saucers. "...Yes…?"

"Well, it's true today."

Silence. Sango just stared at him.

Ask me why, damn you!

The silence continued. Kouga gave an awkward cough and Ayame elbowed him in the ribs.

Miroku sighed. He should have known that this woman would be impossible, even when he was trying to sweep her off her feet. But hey, that's what I love about her, right?

"You're supposed to ask me why," he whispered, knowing his face was turning bright red in front of everyone.

Sango just looked at him like he'd grown two extra heads. "...Why?"

Miroku burst into uncontrollable laughter, and the rest of the table did too. Sango looked around at all of them suspiciously if not a little testily, clearly assuming they were in on some private joke that she wasn't.

"Because - because -" Miroku fought the tears springing to his eyes and spoke, muffled, into his own hand, " - because it's going to be your last name, you idiot!"

Everyone at the table was doubled over but Sango, and Miroku watched her face turn a beautiful shade of pink as it sunk in.

"Wait," she said softly, rolling her eyes and looking around at everyone, "You're joking. Ha ha, very funny, Houshi."

"I'm not - fucking - joking! I'm proposing to you, holy god, how is this going this fucking south?" Miroku could barely choke out the words.

Sango's hands flew to her mouth. "Wait, what? You're not joking?"

Still chuckling, Miroku stood and reached into his pocket before pulling out a velvet box and dropping to one knee in front of her. "Does this fucking convince you, you dense woman?"

"Come on, Sango!" Inuyasha yelled, his voice shaking in laughter, "Put the poor man out of his misery!"

Sango's wide eyes were now filling with tears, and for once in her life, she seemed utterly speechless. Utterly unprepared for what was happening. Well, a change every once in a while ain't a bad thing, right?

"Sango," Miroku started, then barked at the table, "Shut up for a minute, you guys! Let me try this one more time, for real."

He turned back to her, tuning the rest of them out. "Sango, will you marry me?"

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now as she finally smiled, nodded, and whispered, "Yes."

The rest of the table stood up and cheered. Sango stepped forward toward him and held out her hand for him to put the ring on it.

Miroku snatched the box out of reach. "You have to say it, first," he said with a devious smirk.

Sango laughed. "I already said 'yes,' Houshi!"

"That's not what I meant," he said, getting to his feet.

Realization dawned on her a whole hell of a lot quicker this time. "Oh," she said, then smiled that beautiful smile, bright and wide, "Miroku!"

And the ring was on her finger and his lips were on hers, and all was right with the world.

Chapter 62: May I Have The Envelope, Please?

Summary:

In which we finally found out who won the damn Oscars.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Chapter Sixty-Two

May I Have The Envelope, Please?

 

Three weeks into Inuyasha's self-imposed retreat into the confines of his giant Hollywood mansion with his beautiful girlfriend.

Avoiding the press, avoiding all the tabloid attention, living in a small bubble where they spent their days getting into Nerf gun fights and sliding down the stair banisters. Kagome showed him all of her Amsterdam portfolio, and he promised her they'd visit again soon. Once everything had cooled down and they were able to be themselves again in public.

Two weeks until the Oscars.

Around the house, there was a lot of remodeling to be done. For a very interesting reason.

There was a little twelve-year-old weirdo in his house all the goddamn time. Kagome had her looking at paint swatches and picking out an insanely large bathroom with fixtures he'd never even heard of.

And it was all just fine.

Everything was perfect.

Of course, once in a while, Inuyasha would look at a bill provided by a contractor and silently retreat to the balcony for a smoke, until Kagome followed him, insisting that she'd saved her own money, and that none of this would be out of Inuyasha's pocket, that this was her decision…

And then he'd just joyfully take Kagome in his arms and say that whatever the two of them, he and Kagome, did from this point on was a joint decision, right? And she should trust him, right? And he'd help her pay for it.

She'd always hesitate and fight it, insisting that it had been her decision to bring Kanna into the household because she felt like, quote, an asshole, unquote, but he'd realized very early on just how much Kagome's heart was actually into the whole thing and volunteered whatever was left over.

"We owe her so much," Kagome said to him at night, when they were curled up together in bed, "You have no fucking idea. Also, she's fucking great."

He just shrugged and believed Kagome. He was starting to like the kid too.

Especially when Kanna had the most brilliant idea to screw with the paps, who were camping in tents outside the gate to the house and snapping photos like crazy whenever the front doorknob even turned.

They'd been taking photos of her every time she took a cab to the house, and she'd clearly grown a little perturbed (well, as outwardly perturbed as someone like Kanna could get, anyhow).

So she'd started showing up day by day, in the exact...same...dress. Made the photos impossible to sell to tabloids because the paps had no way to prove they were from different days, and the gossip rags didn't want the same fifty photos of the same skinny, pale kid in a black lace gown waving at them with a deadpan expression as her ride got past the front gate. When Miroku heard about it, he'd lamented that the idea was so great he wished he'd thought of it.

Yeah, Inuyasha was certain. He liked the kid. A lot.

 


 

"Is it time yet?"

Miroku had been holding onto this intel for the better part of a couple weeks, which was longer than he'd ever held onto anything without destroying someone's life. It felt somewhat hollow, just sitting there and living his life, while he had an atomic bomb at his fingertips and he was itching to use it.

Sango looked up, her long dark hair fanned around her on the bed like a halo, and just smiled. She clearly knew what was going through his head. That was the whole point. That was the reason he'd decided to just up and marry her.

"No," she said softly, leaning back into the pillows, her fingers playing with her engagement ring absently, as she was wont to do lately, "Not just yet."

He sighed and leaned into her, a satisfied smile fixing itself across his face. "Ugh. Well, just tell me when, babe."

"Don't you worry," she said, linking her arms around his neck and pulling him close, "Soon enough. And you can pull the trigger. I know you want to. Plus, I have to keep my hands clean. Studio employee and all that. I still answer to Warner, unfortunately."

"Don't remind me," Miroku grumbled into her collarbone.

 


 

"Holy shit," Inuyasha said, pretty sure his eyes were bugging right out of his head.

"Congratulations, Jerkface," Kagome said laughingly, as she stepped into the living room in a stunning cream-colored off-the-shoulder Vivienne Westwood, with her hair around her shoulders, the purple streak since dyed a silvery blonde one afternoon when she'd been bored. "Or should I say, Oscar nominee."

"Are you the prize?" He grinned and took her around the waist, pulling her close.

"If it were the actual Oscars, I'd probably say yes," she grinned, "but unfortunately, this is just a party. Poor you, right?"

"Poor me," he agreed, leaning in for a kiss

"If it makes you feel better," she said, stepping back to adjust his tie, "This is the night. You know, the night."

"Oh shit, you're right!" he exclaimed, "This is going to be fucking awesome."

Kagome just chuckled under her breath and nodded in agreement.

 


 

"Sango," Miroku strode up to where she stood next to the Warners, overlooking the red carpet entrance to the party ballroom and no doubt directing traffic in every which direction, "Can I have a word?" He kept his tone formal, kept himself from saying in a loud voice "HELLO FUTURE WIFE HAVE I MENTIONED YOU ARE MY FUTURE WIFE WARNER HAVE YOU MET SANGO SHE'S GOING TO BE MY WIFE HAHAHA EAT A DICK -". He was quite proud of himself for his restraint. And by Sango's knowing smirk and her raised eyebrow, so was she.

"Get out of here, Houshi," Warner growled, "She's busy."

"I don't doubt that," Miroku said smoothly, "I just have a quick question. Regarding tonight's main entertainment."

Warner scoffed, narrowing his eyes and looking at Sango expectantly. No doubt waiting for her to blow Miroku off.

"Hmmm," Sango said, feigning a look of concern, all-business, "Well, if it can't wait, I guess I'll go take care of this. Please excuse me, sir." She gathered the train of her glittering red gown and let Miroku lead her down the carpet.

"Please for the love of god, put me out of my misery," Miroku mumbled under his breath, careful to keep his hand at her elbow and not rub it all over her bum like his instincts were telling him to do. I am so very self-disciplined. Be proud of me, Sango. "Tell me I can pull the trigger now. I'm dying."

She checked her phone for the time, and sent Kagome a text Miroku couldn't read, then waited a second for the reply.

Looking back up at him, she gave him a gleeful smile. "Okay, they're en route. That means you're on, hot stuff. Drop the bomb."

Miroku only had to bring his own phone out of his pocket and hit a single button on a mass text message saved in his drafts folder.

Send.

 


 

The crowd of reporters and photographers were of course camped out in front of the ballroom that was to host the Sunrise Studios pre-Oscar bash. And they seemed even more rabid than usual, if that was possible. The announcement that Inuyasha and Kagome would be attending together, in official capacity, surely had a lot to do with that. The tabloids were foaming at the mouth for shots of them together, and they'd been very coy about staying cooped up in their little love nest.

"You ready?" Inuyasha linked his hand with Kagome's and turned to face her before opening the limo door.

She put her free hand over their linked fingers and smiled at him. There was none of that hesitation or fright that used to be all over her face at these events. No fear of the unknown crowds, the bloodsucking reporters. Just an excited energy and an expression so, so full of love and happiness.

It made him feel pretty damn good to know it was all directed at him.

"Inuyasha! Kagome! Over here!" Shouts of the same thing from all different directions as they exited the car and stood arm in arm. As a couple. In public. For the first time. It was almost therapeutic.

They were, purposely, one of the first cars to arrive. They'd planned on being early. Which left most of the red carpet correspondents completely without ongoing interviews just as the two of them hit the carpet.

Just like clockwork.

Inuyasha seemed to spot Yura Kaminoke just as Kagome did the same, and they smiled at each other brightly. She was looking as ravenous and vicious as usual, trying to motion them over with her giant microphone, and the smug, satisfied look on her face surely meant she had nothing nice to say.

It sure was nice to wipe that smirk off her face as he and Kagome walked smilingly past her and landed at the interviewer right next to her.

"Hello, Inuyasha, Kagome! You both look fantastic tonight!" The interviewer was a very, ahem, flashy man with a tux that could have been mistaken for a sign in Times Square. "Give me one second for the intro here...Hello, moviegoers and fashion lovers! This is Jakotsu Subarashi, coming to you from the Sunrise Studios Pre-Oscar Extravaganza! I'm standing here with the wonderful Inuyasha Takahashi, who just looks good enough to eat tonight! As well as the beautiful, the luminous Miss Kagome Higurashi!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Inuyasha was pretty sure he saw Yura's jaw drop to the floor. Weren't expecting such a warm welcome for us, huh Yura? Too bad you didn't check your phone about thirty minutes ago. He tightened his grip around Kagome, pretty sure that the two of them were having an equally hard time holding back their laughter.

A few fluffy questions about fashion, as was tradition, and then Jakotsu's face grew even more excited as he leaned in.

"I just have to ask this," he said, almost conspiratorially, like they weren't being recorded to be shown to thousands of people, "Do you two have a comment on our exclusive story tonight?"

"Depends on what that is," Kagome said, laughingly. She squeezed Inuyasha's hand a little tighter. Here we go.

"Some video footage taken during the shooting of your last film, the one you're nominated for tonight," Jakotsu obligingly pulled up his phone to allow them to view it on camera, "It appears to show, well, shall we say, a different side to the whole drama between you two and Kikyou Higurashi in the last few weeks."

And BOOM goes the dynamite!

"Does it?" Inuyasha said, keeping his tone bemused when he really wanted to laugh.

Jakotsu nodded eagerly. "This footage, well, it led me to believe that either you and Kikyou broke up very early into the film shoot, or that she's got some explaining to do!" He giggled nervously, clearly unsure of the reaction he'd provoke.

"Huh," Inuyasha said, peering at the footage and then turning to Kagome, "It looks like she's getting a little handsy with Naraku there in the corner while my back is turned, doesn't it?"

"It sure does," Kagome said, biting her lower lip as her face turned pink with clear effort to keep from screaming with laughter.

"So weird," Inuyasha said, "I could have sworn she was still engaged to me at that point, right?"

"Very weird," Kagome agreed.

Jakotsu nodded, his face a mask of clear concern for Inuyasha. "Are you saying that this is, in fact, proof that she was cheating on you the entire time?"

There was a clatter as Yura dropped her microphone to the floor, looking absolutely flabbergasted.

Inuyasha smiled softly, shrugged, and leaned in toward Jakotsu like he was giving him the scoop of the century. Which I guess I am.

"Sure looks that way, don't it?"

After the interview was finished (and Jakotsu looked like the happiest person on planet earth), Inuyasha and Kagome continued down the red carpet.

Yura, having since checked her phone and realized what was going on, was desperately calling both their names and trying to wave them over, her voice getting higher and higher and starting to crack.

They ignored her and bypassed the rest of the interviewers to enter the ballroom.

"You just made that guy very happy," Kagome said with a grin.

"Hey," Inuyasha chuckled, "Right now, it's contagious."

That whole take-the-high-ground bullshit? Maybe it's great for monks, but personally? A little revenge feels sweet.

 


 

To her credit, Kikyou had arrived at the party about half an hour later and looked only slightly shell-shocked as she smilingly, haltingly walked through the tables in the ballroom. But then again, she was an actress. Trying to hold it together. Sango could spot her coming apart at the seams, though.

Poor dear. Arrive all ready for everyone to fawn all over you in sympathy only to realize that the word's out and you've been exposed as the lying sack you are.

She allowed herself a small smirk as she scrolled through her subscribed gossip sites. Right on schedule, the video was everywhere. And the comments ranged from disbelieving to vicious. Perfection.

"Ah, Kikyou! My darling, you look radiant tonight," Warner said, standing up from the table to say hello. Sango realized that Kikyou must be standing right behind her and immediately put her phone in her lap, fighting back a spasm of nervous laughter.

"Mr. Warner," Kikyou said, taking his hand, "This is just devastating!" Her voice was a shaky whisper. "Do you even know what's going on out there right under your nose?"

Warner blinked in confusion. "I beg your pardon?" He was certainly not used to being barked at like this. Sango just fingered the engagement ring hidden on a chain under her dress and kept silent.

"That bastard Inuyasha's people have ruined me! Destroyed me! And you're allowing it to happen!"

Warner's ruddy face grew redder with outrage, which he immediately saw fit to pass on to Sango. "Sango," he said, "What on earth is going on?"

Blink in surprise. Look absolutely adorable. Sell it, girl. Sell it. From the way his face softened slightly and turned into the hint of a leer, it was working. "I - I have no idea." She turned to Kikyou, keeping the same babe-in-the-woods expression. "What's happening?"

Kikyou practically snarled at her. "Like you don't know," she hissed, "Like you all haven't conspired against me from day one! When I've been nothing but nice to you, considering you don't know how to even do your job -"

Now wait just a goddamn minute, you little - shhhh, easy girl. She's down for the count and she knows it.

Sango just feigned shock and hurt and said quietly, "I can assure you, sir," she looked at Warner, "Whatever's going on is news to me."

He looked angry. "Find out what's going on and deal with it. Kikyou, my dear, please, come have a seat and we'll get it taken care of."

Kikyou flung away his outstretched hand. "You just don't get it! That Miroku Houshi has sent the entire press a video that makes me look like a fool! He did it at Inuyasha's request, I just know it! Or maybe it's the work of that treacherous snake of a sister of mine. And she knew about it!" She pointed an accusing finger at Sango, who just shot Warner her best look of confusion.

"Sango," Warner said, looking like he just wanted to calm the situation down, "Go find out how much damage this is doing. Now."

"Right away, sir," she said, scurrying off. Warner believed her. She knew he did. Perfection.

She kept out of sight for a few minutes and then returned to the table with the video pulled up on her phone and let slip that the footage was, by now, everywhere.

She let Warner watch it. His face grew purpler by the minute.

"Well?" Kikyou demanded once it was finished. "What are you going to do about this?"

Warner turned to Sango, his lips in a tight line. "Get me Kagome and Inuyasha. Now."

 


 

"So how mad is she?" Kagome asked as Sango broke up their conversation and led them back toward the head table, where Warner's face was nowhere near as red as Kikyou's was right now. Miroku remained at their table with the understanding that the sight of his face would do nothing to win Warner to their side right now.

"Ohhh boy," Sango said, fighting to keep the satisfied grin off her face, "Shitting bricks."

And indeed she was.

At the sight of the two of them approaching hand-in-hand, Kikyou looked about ready to upend the table and try to claw Kagome's eyes out. But before she could speak, Warner cut in.

"Inuyasha, Kagome," he said, his voice stern, "Do you two know about this?"

Inuyasha shrugged. "Not really," he said, oh-so-casually.

"You don't know where this footage was procured from?"

"It's from an old camera of mine," Kagome volunteered, her voice sounding much calmer than she felt, "But that camera was thrown away. It got broken. You can ask Hojo about it. He told me a lot of my stuff got broken. Some sort of accident." She leveled her gaze at Kikyou, who looked away furiously.

"Who the hell is Hojo?" Warner snapped at Sango.

"Kikyou's assistant," Sango supplied quickly, "Kagome's replacement. You remember, sir. Someone must have gone through the trash at Kikyou's house."

He took in the information and nodded. "I don't like surprises like this," he said, glaring at the three of them.

Kikyou's face twisted into an almost insane, triumphant smile.

"But then again," Warner said, reaching for his wine glass, "We couldn't ask for better publicity right now."

Kikyou very nearly fell over. "Wh-what?" she squealed indignantly, "Mr. Warner, you can't let these - these liars -"

"Kikyou, darling," he gave her what he surely thought was a very reassuring smile as he patted the back of her hand, "It's just a week and a half til the Oscars, and voting is about to close. Trust me, you want your name in everyone's mind. And with this, it certainly will be."

For once in her life, Kikyou Higurashi had nothing to say. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. No sound came out.

"Oh, there is one thing we should do," Warner said, looking at Sango again. Kikyou seemed ready to pounce on it, take whatever she could get and try to exact some form of payback.

"Yes sir?" Sango said, looking across the table at Inuyasha and Kagome with just a little uncertainty.

"We can't have a couples photoshoot of these two now," he grumbled, motioning first to Kikyou and then to Inuyasha, who immediately grinned with realization, "You're going to have to hire someone else to take the photos of Inuyasha and Kagome. She can't very well photograph herself getting ready, now can she?"

Kikyou stood up from the table, her chair crashing to the floor behind her, and she fled from the scene, no doubt towards the restrooms to lock herself in a stall and hide for a while.

Kagome felt Inuyasha's hand squeeze her waist, and she turned towards him and finally, finally, let herself be kissed by him in full view of a ballroom full of famous people.

"Yes, exactly," Warner said, seemingly nonplussed at Kikyou's violent exit, "Stuff like that. The world loves a romance, don't they? Oh, Sango, when you get a moment, go check on Kikyou. I'm sure she'll be fine. She'll see I'm right eventually. But now, what to do with that Naraku fellow..."

 


 

"I wish you could come with us," Kagome said apologetically, holding as still as possible while the hair and makeup people worked their magic, "But the Oscars are notoriously stingy with seats. We can't bring any extra people with us. Hell, even Miroku and Sango get stuck way up in the balcony."

From the couch on the other end of the living room, Kanna didn't look up from her book. "Are the Oscars longer than the Golden Globes?"

"Yeah, quite a bit, actually."

"Then I'm glad I'm not coming."

Kagome smiled to herself. "Are you going to try and watch it on TV?"

"No. But I'm sure Nazuna will. She promised to make me snacks if I sit with her so I'll try to look up once in a while. If I'm not too bored."

"Fair enough," Kagome said. She stood up, folding her white satin robe around herself, and went to get help changing into her dress.

She'd chosen to go back to her signature blue, but this shade was different. Lighter, airier. More serene. It was off-the-shoulder, mermaid-cut, covered in aquamarine stones. Of course, Kagome being Kagome, she'd found a set of silver jewelry with very subtle stud patterning, not so much that it was obvious to the naked eye, but enough to where she'd feel free to raise the devil horns to herself in the mirror if the need arose.

Click, click, click. The studio-hired photographer was being most attentive. It was weird, Kagome thought, being on this end of the camera. She fought to keep from making a face.

"How's it coming along for you?" Inuyasha's head appeared around the bedroom doorway. His eyes went wide and his face went pink as he seemed to exhale with shock and awe at the sheer glimpse of her. "Holy shit," he whispered, his face breaking into that smile she so adored.

It may be weird, but oh god, for this man, is it ever worth it. Kagome hoped the cameras wouldn't catch her drooling like a moron at the sight of him.

Click, click, click.

 


 

"You've got to be joking," Sango said, nearly falling off of her makeup chair at the sight of him.

"What?" Miroku feigned ignorance, turning around in a circle to show her his tux. "Don't like Armani?"

"What on earth is that?" She pointed to the front of his chest.

"Oh, this old thing?" Miroku said, lifting his elbow slightly to show off his new sling. "Ain't it grand?"

"Where the hell did you find a black sling with sequins?"

"It's LA, babe," Miroku said, smirking and turning to admire himself in the mirror, "You can get anything for the right price. And it's the Oscars. Gotta look fancy, right?"

He didn't turn to look at her, but he knew she was likely pinching the bridge of her nose in sheer disbelief.

 


 

"Here," Inuyasha passed Kagome a flute of champagne, "A little liquid courage?"

She smiled gratefully and took it, leaning back carefully in her seat in the limo to avoid wrinkling her dress.

"You nervous?" she whispered, linking her left hand with his right one.

"Nah."

Kagome giggled. "Liar."

Inuyasha shrugged a little sheepishly.

"However it goes tonight," she said, touching her forehead to the side of his jaw and closing her eyes, "You've got a hell of a career to look forward to. This is just part one, right?"

"What would I do without you and your pep talks," he said, letting his own eyes shut and leaning his head back against the wall.

"Hey, buddy, they don't come free. You owe me a lifetime of happiness in return."

Inuyasha grinned. "I'll do my damnedest, Kiddo."

They got through the red carpet without incident, though they did note several interviewers looking solidly disappointed that they had arrived much, much later than Kikyou and there was no chance of seeing any interesting confrontations or looks.

For some strange reason, Kikyou had apparently been one of the first to arrive, and had apparently scooted through interviews much, much quicker than usual. According to the whispers, she was wearing a very sexy, vamp-like red gown (seemingly taking Warner's advice and owning the scandal, playing the role of nymphette to a tee) and had arrived with that little orphan girl Shiori in tow, parading her before the cameras and then promptly exiling the poor kid to the rafters as soon as they reached the auditorium.

Inuyasha caught sight of her only briefly as he and Kagome entered the auditorium and took their seats. She was in the same section, of course, representing 'The Red Robe' and Sunrise Studios, but was seated on the very opposite side, right between the Warners, and, to her obvious mortification, good old Best-Supporting-Actor-Nominee himself, Naraku.

"Awkward," Kagome whispered, squeezing his hand just as the warning bell rang announcing five minutes to broadcast.

 


 

The world was ending. That had to be the answer.

A category where the other nominees included Sir Anthony Hopkins and Tommy Lee Jones, and it was Naraku taking the stage to accept the award for Best Supporting Actor.

Sango shot a disbelieving glance over her shoulder at Miroku, who was two rows back and had a program pressed over his mouth to no doubt hide cackles of laughter.

She pressed her own hand over her face and turned back around, leaning forward on her elbows to listen to what would surely be the greatest acceptance speech of all time.

Especially after how got through to him, she thought.

"I owe this award to one person, and one person only," Naraku said, his face and tone deathly serious as he stared at the statuette in his hands, "And that's the woman I love."

Oh. My. God. Sango sank down a little further in her seat, shaking with silent laughter. God, I wish I could see Kikyou's face right now.

And then she got her wish, as the large screen showing the live broadcast in full view for the audience showed the Grand High Bitch herself, looking like she'd just been fried by an electric socket. Her eyes were wide with what could only be called sheer mortification, and she sat stock still for a moment before remembering herself and trying to awkwardly laugh it off.

Naraku wasn't laughing, though. He continued. "Kikyou, these few months we've been apart have been agony. You know, while I was filming 'Conan the Demonslayer.' Even though I was thrilled to be the new star of a movie, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Holy shit, Sango thought, He's plugging his new movie in an acceptance speech. This is a new level of horrifying.

"Kikyou," and suddenly Naraku's voice was louder, more declarative, as he stared straight down at her in the audience, "I've been in love with you since I first saw you. And I knew you felt the same. And I can't possibly let myself stand on this stage without telling the rest of the world what we mean to each other."

Kikyou just smiled weakly, looking about ready to scream.

And oh, those clever cameramen, cutting to Inuyasha's face for half a moment. He just turned to the camera, giving a fourth-wall-breaking shrug of bemusement, his arm firmly linked with Kagome's.

It was the perfect moment of unplanned comedy. There were titters and a few actual laughs from the rest of the audience as the camera cut back to Kikyou, who looked white as a ghost and ready to bolt out of the room.

"Kikyou Higurashi," Naraku said, "Can you come up here for a moment?"

Kikyou's eyes showed sheer terror as she tried to giggle demurely, tried to wave him off like he was just kidding, surely.

Naraku, bless him, wouldn't be fazed. "If you won't come up here," he said huskily, "then I'll come to you."

In a flash, he'd descended the stairs and prostrated himself on one knee in the aisle in front of Kikyou's seat. "Will you marry me?" he said, now without the aid of a microphone but loudly enough for the rest of the crowd to hear. He pulled a ring the size of a small skating rink from his suit pocket.

Kikyou froze. There were a few whistles and cheers from the crowd, and not a small amount of chuckles.

Sango had both hands pressed to the side of her face, unable to believe what she was witnessing. This is amazing. This is abso-fucking-lutely amazing. I couldn't have written a more awkward moment if I tried. Whatcha gonna do, Kikyou? If you refuse him in front of everyone you look like a cold-hearted bitch! But weren't you just trying to pine for Inuyasha a few weeks ago? Oh god, this is better than sex. Well, almost.

Kikyou seemed to realize she had no choice, and she awkwardly swallowed, then let herself smile and nod. The ballroom erupted in cheers, and Sango choked on her own breath of air as she watched Inuyasha stand and give a very accomodating ovation towards the two of them. Naraku, looking positively elated, put the ring on her finger and took the seat next to her, making sure to give her what he surely meant as a romantic smooch for the cameras.

The host retook the stage, obviously amused and a little shaken up by the unorthodox way that entire scene had gone, and they went to commercial break. Only then did Sango allow herself to look back over her shoulder again at Miroku, who was nearly blue in the face from holding in the laughs.

 


 

"Forget the rest of the damn show," Inuyasha whispered, still shaking with laughter, "That was the highlight of the evening."

"Oh hush," Kagome said, her hand over her mouth, "You gotta know the best is yet to come."

 


 

More awards, more performances, more comedy bits, quite a few at the expense of that dramatic love declaration a few moments ago.

And then…

 


 

"May I have the envelope, please?"

 


 

It was as if the sudden roar of the crowd had deafened him.

It was as if he was underwater.

He didn't move for a second, just sat there.

It was the gentle shake Kagome gave his hand that snapped him out of it, and he leapt to his feet, pulling her up with him. All around them, the rest of the crowd stood to congratulate him, backslaps and handshakes and cheers of approval.

All he saw was her, standing there with her hand in his, the other hand over her mouth, tears of joy spilling from both of those beautiful, crystal-blue eyes.

He released her hand and threw both arms around her shoulders, gripping her so tightly he felt her sigh with surprise, and pressed a kiss to her cheek before quickly claiming her lips at the last second.

"You did it," he thought he heard her whisper but wasn't sure, and he could only look at her, dazed, before he remembered that he still had to go up onstage and give a damn speech.

Does my brain even work anymore?

He got to the podium and the award was placed in his hand.

Weirdly, he didn't feel any different. Maybe it hadn't sunk in yet.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to speak.

"...Wow." Another deep breath, come on you idiot get yourself together here. "This is just...wow. I'd like to thank the Academy, and of course Sunrise Studios for believing in me thus far. And of course, my agent, Miroku Houshi, for being the one who got me past a really hard time in my life and knocking some sense into me. I owe you one, pal. And thanks to Sango Ryoshi for putting up with him through this whole rollercoaster ride."

He grinned up at the balcony, where he saw Sango laughing and giving him a salute of acknowledgment, while Miroku just playfully waved him off with the hand that wasn't currently decked out in a sparkly sling.

"My thanks to the cast and crew for being the troupers they were, in a climate that wasn't always very, shall we say, forgiving." A few laughs and cheers from the audience.

"I think my greatest thanks, though, have to go to Kikyou Higurashi..."

There was marked confusion at this. Kikyou frowned at him for a moment, and then the cameras switched to her reaction and her face changed to a serene curiosity.

"...because if it weren't for her, I would never have met the woman of my dreams."

Cheers all around. Kikyou's mouth opened a little, shut, and she just forced a smile on her face.

He took another deep breath, held the award aloft in his hand, and looked right at Kagome. She had her hands clutched in her lap, and the tearful smile she was beaming at him was dazzling, even from this distance. "To Kagome," he said, a little softer than before, "who always saw the best in me, even when I never saw it in myself. Who is amazing and brilliant and funny and wonderful. Who I can only hope to someday deserve to have in my life. You're my best friend, Kiddo. You always have been, from the beginning. It was always you. Always. Even when I didn't know up from down, all roads have always led me to you."

Feeling himself choke up ever so slightly, he finished quickly with, "I love you all. Thank you so much, once again."

And then he was ushered offstage.

Oscar in hand.

 


 

Holy shit, Miroku thought, sinking back in his chair with an easygoing smile plastered across his face, now that's a speech.

They cut to commercial again, and he watched Kagome down below spring from her seat and rush toward the outer hallway at breakneck speed.

Go get him, kid.

He chuckled under his breath, and, meeting Sango's elated gaze, sent her a wink.

 


 

It seemed like this place was nothing but endless hallways, Kagome thought with a slight inward grumble as she jumped around and through countless huddled crowds of backstage and behind-the-scenes people. Hope I don't trip and fall and break my neck. That would be such a bummer ending to this whole thing, wouldn't it?

She finally spotted Inuyasha, standing at the end of yet another long hallway, and he spotted her.

They raced for each other, colliding in an almost violent embrace. She was dimly aware that she was sobbing into his shoulder, and from the choked noises he was making, she was pretty sure that he was shedding a tear as well.

Before either of them could say anything, they were interrupted by two large hands enveloping both sides of them.

"My two stars of the evening!" Warner's excited voice boomed, his giant face twisted in a grin that looked both satisfied and strangely hungry, "Congratulations are due to both of you, I'm sure. We did it. Yet another Oscar for Sunrise tonight. Perhaps we'll beat 2015's record."

Inuyasha's hand came up to gently push Warner back off the both of them. "Thanks very much, Mr. Warner," he said cordially, but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

Warner turned to face Kagome, and she immediately, instinctively took a step back toward Inuyasha. "I think I owe the biggest debt of gratitude to this little angel right here," he said, his grin still splitting his face in two, "Just to think what a news story you've been this awards season! I really must get you to sign another contract. Are you interested in acting at all, dear?"

"No," Kagome said firmly, but he didn't seem phased, laughing her off and returning his attentions to Inuyasha.

"Hahaha, we'll see, we'll see. My dear boy!" he said, "I can't wait to get you back in the studio again. You name your project and we'll do it. Sango did send you that contract to sign, correct?"

"All due respect, Mr. Warner," Inuyasha said, "I think I'd like to take some time off for a bit."

"Nonsense! We have to strike while the iron is hot!"

Inuyasha shrugged noncommittally and turned to lead Kagome away. "Please excuse us," he said, "We have to get back to our seats."

Warner looked a little miffed. "You seriously can't be considering a hiatus. I won't have it."

"Tell you what," Inuyasha said with a smirk that he obviously couldn't help, "I'll have my agent call you, how's that?"

They didn't wait for Warner's reaction, but they were snickering like schoolkids as they went back to their seats.

 


"...And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to...Maggie Smith!"

Ouch. Now Naraku's the Oscar winner in the relationship.

Miroku felt like throwing a parade.

 


 

"So, I'll coordinate back-door transportation to the afterparty," Sango said as they all gathered in the quickly deserting auditorium after the broadcast finally, mercifully ended (with 'The Red Robe' winning the goddamn Best Picture award, what a joke). She clapped Inuyasha on the shoulder. "This one here has to go do the press meet-and-greet real quick. Why don't the two of you go on ahead?"

"I have a better idea," Kagome said, brushing that stray curl out of her face again, seemingly unaware how that one small gesture could drive Inuyasha wild, "When you guys get done, meet us at the Takahashi palace."

With a small wink and a peck on his cheek, Kagome turned and looped her arm through Miroku's. Inuyasha waved as they disappeared behind the corner.

Sango blinked and frowned. "I guess maybe she wants you to change your tux before we go to the afterparties? We've probably got at least three to hit."

Inuyasha just smiled, more to himself than anything. "Heh. Maybe."

 


 

"Surprise!"

Inuyasha blinked, then started laughing.

Nazuna, Kanna, Kouga, Ayame, Miroku, several dozen others, and of course Kagome, all gathered in one place, complete with balloons and streamers. Kagome, in the corner like the consummate photographer she was, snapped pictures furiously as Inuyasha and Sango stumbled into the living room, eyes adjusting from what had been pitch-black darkness to sudden blinding light.

Kagome finished getting the shots she wanted and then raced up to him. She had already changed out of her fancy-pants Oscar dress into shorts and a Judas Priest shirt. Of course she had. That was his Kagome. He folded her in his arms and held her close.

"Lemme see that thing," Kouga grumbled, lunging for the Oscar in Inuyasha's hand and inspecting its sheen and weight very closely. He sniffed grumpily, then smirked. "Looks real enough to me. I guess congratulations are in order, then."

"Oh, Kouga," Ayame chided him playfully, lifting the Oscar up in her own hand. "Ooh, it is heavy."

 


 

"You know," Inuyasha said into her ear a few hours later, amidst the furious drunken exclamations of Kouga across the room (where Ayame was solidly whipping his ass at arm-wrestling), amidst the loud protestations of Sango that she just didn't dance, period, as Miroku handily ignored her and twirled her around to some Marvin Gaye playing on the stereo, amidst the spectacle of Kanna sitting cross-legged under a couch fort that she'd silently constructed with Inuyasha's expensive Egyptian linen sheets, "This is the greatest afterparty I could have ever hoped for. How did you know?"

Kagome just smiled mysteriously. "I have my ways."

Inuyasha nuzzled at the nape of her neck. "Sorry to get all mushy on you again," he said, "But I really meant what I said up there on that stage tonight. Kikyou was only a thought. Just a shadow. A stepping stone to get to you. And it sure took me long enough to realize that the girl for me was staring me in the face the whole time. I'm sorry for making you wait."

"Oh, that's okay," Kagome said, pressing a kiss to his temple and snuggling in closer, "You have the rest of your life to make it up to me."

"Speaking of which," Inuyasha said, feeling a small knot in his stomach as he struggled to get the words out in the right order, "Do we have to wait for that?"

"For what?"

"For the rest of our lives to start."

"What?"

"All I mean is, why wait?"

"Inuyasha, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, no, no, no," he said, holding up a hand to stop her, sure that his face was as red as a tomato, "I am not gonna let mine sound as ridiculous as Miroku's did. Let's just go pack some bags and hop on the next flight for Vegas. Like, tomorrow."

"Holy shit. You serious?"

"Only if you want to," he stammered.

She paused for just a moment, then leaned in and kissed him so hard he practically felt himself sway on his feet. "Hell. Yes," she whispered when their lips parted.

Before he could say anything else, the doorbell rang and Nazuna sprang up to answer it out of habit.

In walked...Hojo?

Kagome was immediately out of Inuyasha's arms so fast he could swear he felt the beginnings of whiplash. "You're here!" Kagome said delightedly, sprinting toward Hojo with almost a skip in her step.

The hell is this? Inuyasha grumbled inwardly.

"Hello, Miss Kagome," Hojo said haltingly, still obviously unsure of himself. In his arms he held a large cardboard box.

"Oh, you did it! Thank you so much. You'll never know how much this means to me," Kagome said, throwing her arms around Hojo's neck. The kid blushed from head to toe, and Inuyasha felt a growl rumble low in his throat.

Hojo handed the box over to Kagome. "Are you sure I won't get in trouble for this?"

Kagome placed the box on the floor and hovered over it. "Like she'll even notice it's gone. And you can always just say it ran away. I promise this won't come back on you. It'll be our secret."

"Kagome," Inuyasha snapped, crossing the room toward her, "What the hell is going on?"

The head of a pomeranian poked out of the top of the box and yapped at him.

"Wait a second," Inuyasha said, "You stole the dog?"

Kagome turned and smiled. "I may have slipped our friend Hojo here a couple hundred bucks to give me a hand. But I just want him to have a better home! Besides, this dog loves me. See?" She picked up the tiny, fluffy ball and cradled him in her arms. The dog yapped and wagged what little tail it had.

Inuyasha just rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself. "Hojo, thanks," he said, offering his hand to shake, "Go on in and join the party. Have a drink. Have several."

Hojo stammered out some awkward, star-struck thanks and disappeared, and Inuyasha was left with the girl of his dreams, who was snuggling the dog and laughing with complete abandon.

He wondered if Kagome would ever stop bringing home strays who needed love.

He hoped she never did.

He'd been the ultimate stray before she'd come along and shown him what home really was.

Kagome looked up, ducking the dog's excited leaps of joy and giving Inuyasha the sweetest smile, then a wink.

She stood and beckoned to the dog with a whistle, turning to head down the bedroom hallway.

"Come on, Shippo," she called, "It's time to pack for Vegas!"


THE END.


 

Chapter 63: Epilogue

Summary:

In which Kagome comes home after a work trip abroad.

Chapter Text

The It Couple

Epilogue

(OR: AFTER THE SHOW IS THE AFTERPARTY...)

 


THREE MONTHS POST-OSCARS


 

"...And it is our pleasure, no, no, no, our thrill…" Yura muttered as she furiously typed with her red-lacquered fingernails, "...to announce that Inuyasha Takahashi married Kagome Higurashi in a private Las Vegas ceremony sometime in early February of this year...Celeb-tattle's warmest...most heartfelt...congratulations to the newlyweds…"

She read it over quickly, smiling a most self-satisfied smile, and hit 'Post.'

"You did it, girl," she said to herself, spinning in her chair with a gleeful laugh, "You're back on top."

There was a beep notification. A comment already? Yura was delighted. She just knew this would likely be her most clicked-on post this year. The ad revenue would be through the roof!

She leaned in to read the comment on the screen.

"Sunrise Studios (guest account): 'Oh dear. Yura, Yura, Yura, when WILL you ever learn?'"

Yura's smile dropped from her face and her eyes widened in realization. She quickly scrambled to delete the post, folding her hands on the desk in front of her and sighing when it was done.

The phone rang. Yura grimaced and hesitantly reached out to answer.

"Yura. How's kicks?"

"Oh, Sango, dear, how are you?"

"Just wonderful. I love when people breach their contracts."

Yura turned as white as a sheet. "N-Now Sango, please, be reasonable, it was just a little gaffe, a hiccup, if you will - "

"Please. You couldn't help yourself. You signed that contract right in front of me. And it said that you are never to mention Kagome Higurashi's name in print or on air ever again."

"Sango, I deleted the post, I swear. No one saw it. No one." Yura's voice was beginning to crack.

"I think you'd better call that expensive lawyer of yours, Yura. You like publicity, right? Well, you're going to get it." Cackling laughter. And then...

Click.

 


FIVE YEARS LATER


 

Miroku pulled the car into park and climbed out. His hands shielded his face as he quickly lit a cigarette and took a single deep drag. He let himself sigh happily, blowing a plume of smoke straight up into the air, and then extinguished it just as quickly against a signpost and shoved the cigarette back into its lonely place in the box. His very last one. Possibly ever. He was going to make it last as long as possible, even though lighting it a second time would no doubt taste just terrible.

He paused to stash the near-empty box under the driver's seat, and then shut the car door and walked up the sidewalk.

A boy of about eighteen with dark brown hair and a smattering of youthful freckles across his cheeks looked up from his computer. There was a small, crescent-shaped scar in his hairline and a slight halt to his movements, but nothing too noticeable. Nothing to indicate what this kid had been through in his short life thus far.

"Hey," the kid said with a cheerful grin.

"Hey yourself," Miroku said, "How's it been so far this morning?"

Kohaku gave Miroku a dull look that so terrifyingly mirrored the one his elder sister had mastered long ago. "You'd know if you ever came in before ten in the morning," he said, the corners of his mouth pulling back into a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Miroku waved him off, taking off his leather jacket and shades and setting them on a table near the door. "Just so happens I had a breakfast meeting with Kouga and the people working on that next Scorsese film. Very promising. So don't you worry. I'm still making us the big bucks. We won't starve in the streets. At least not this quarter."

Kohaku scoffed and rolled his eyes as Miroku strolled past him toward the closed office dooor. "Just be quiet when you go in there," the kid said, "You know how she hates when you distract her when she's in her evil plotting mode."

The desk phone rang, and Kohaku picked it up, turning away from Miroku to say, "Houshi and Houshi Talent Agency, how can I help you?"

Miroku grumbled under his breath something about knowing how to handle his own wife, and entered the office to see her standing, facing the window, one hand on her hip and the other holding her phone to her ear.

"I just wanted to thank you in person for the wonderful opportunity, Mr. Warner," Sango said, hands folded in her lap demurely, head held high, "but I think it's time for me to explore another avenue."

Miroku, from his post just outside the office door, could practically hear the steam escaping the big man's ears. He resisted the urge to laugh like a mad scientist and instead returned his attention to eavesdropping in the most casual, cool way possible.

"You can't be serious," Warner said, "First I lose Inuyasha for a whole year of valuable screentime because he runs off to play husband, and now this?"

"I can recommend some very adequate replacements," Sango said. Miroku snorted.

"I took you out of nowhere and made you what you are," Warner roared, "and this is how you repay all my kindness? Well, that's all over now. You'll never work in this town again."

And here we go, thought Miroku. He loved listening to his woman work.

"I already have several clients lined up for when I start my own agency," Sango said brightly, "I look forward to working hand-in-hand with Sunrise in the future. Perhaps, who knows, we'll be due for even more Oscars next year."

"Who on earth could be stupid enough to jump ship and sign on with a completely unknown agency?" Warner spluttered.

Sango only got a few names out before he cut her off.

"That's - that's my entire roster of contract stars!"

"No, it isn't, silly," Sango said, "You can keep Kikyou. And Naraku. Put them in a superhero movie; I hear those are doing well sometimes."

Miroku doubled over in silent laughter. There had been quite the little kerfuffle after Kikyou's public humiliation at the Oscars, and a hasty tropical wedding to try and smooth things over with the public had ended four months later in a very public and awkward divorce. Kikyou was persona non grata around these parts, at least for the foreseeable future.

"I'll sue you," Warner hissed dangerously, "For corporate espionage. For theft of clients. You'll be finished, you little bitch."

Miroku frowned and casually kicked the door in. "Now, that's not very nice, Randy."

"YOU!"

"Me."

"Get out of here, both of you, before I have you arrested!"

Sango sent Miroku an exaggerated pout. He winked at her.

"But I wasn't finished," she almost whined, reaching into her purse and pulling out a stack of photos.

Warner stopped short, staring down onto his desktop. He was suddenly very gray in the face.

"Married the current wife with no prenup, huh, you sly dog, you?" Miroku said, "Honestly, I never would have thought you were such a romantic, Randy. That is, until you had me fired for just talking to the woman."

Warner stared at him in alarm.

"That's right," Miroku said, sighing dramatically, "Absolutely nothing physical ever happened between dear, sweet Lana and I. I'm sure she told you it did. Probably because she was jealous of all of your - " he gestured to the scattered stack of photos, " - indiscretions, but could never prove a thing in court. She wanted you paying more attention to her, Randy. That's all a wife really needs, right, attention?"

"And a good pair of shoes once in a while," Sango supplied with a grin. "Remember that once you and I are married, Houshi."

Miroku gave her a little bow and a wink, then returned to the business at hand. "But think if she saw these, Randy. California community property laws. That's your entire net of shares in this studio, isn't it?"

Warner sank into his chair. "Are these the only copies?" he said, his voice seemingly gone.

"Of course not, silly!" Sango said with a wink, "Think of them as insurance for us to get started on our own. And every time you get a little sad about me leaving, just think what Lana and the press will do with all these photos and you'll feel much better. Half of those women are famous, and the other half are married to someone famous, aren't they?"

They left the office, laughing like giddy teenagers, and of course they had a quick celebratory shag in the car before heading off into the sunset.

"...Nope," she was saying, "That's absolutely unacceptable. You know we're worth an extra zero on top of that number, given the box office numbers Ayame's been constantly drawing for the past several years. She's a star, and you're going to treat her like one, or we'll take her talents elsewhere...Yes, I understand she's very interested in the role, but she's also interested in not being taken advantage of, which is where I come in...Yes, I'm sure you do need a few moments to think it over. I'll need an answer by noon today or I'll have to go to Ayame with the bad news that 'Terminator: Blood Feud' will not be the next film she rockets to number one at the box office. Thanks, look forward to your call!" She hung up the phone, letting out a sigh that sounded very, very proud of herself.

Miroku grinned. "All these years of hearing you talk like that," he said, and she squeaked in surprise, "and it never, ever gets old."

Sango turned to look at him over her shoulder. "I learned from the best, didn't I?" She turned around.

How the hell does she look completely normal from behind, and then she turns around and you see she's eight months pregnant? With twins, no less? Miroku could do nothing but stare at her lovingly as she crossed the room and awkwardly leaned over her giant belly to kiss him hello.

"And how are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Houshi?"

"Gigantic," Sango grumbled, but she was smiling. "Just one more month, right?"

"One more month," Miroku agreed, placing a hand on her stomach and feeling as giddy as a schoolboy.

"How was your meeting? I assume you got there on time." The raised eyebrow told him Sango wasn't quite as certain of his punctuality as she let on.

"Of course I did," Miroku protested, "I swear, I oversleep one time and you never let me hear the end of it. And that one time was your fault, with your crazy midnight cravings for Korean barbecue and pickles."

Sango only laughed, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. She'd been wearing nothing but flats as of late. He wasn't used to being so much taller than she was. It was kind of adorable.

She sniffed. "Have you been smoking?" she asked suspiciously, raising her eyebrow again as she searched his face.

"No. Yes. Yes, but just one." He held up his hands, wincing. "I promise. It's the last one in the pack."

"Are you wearing your patch?"

Miroku sighed painfully. "Babe," he said, lifting up the front of his shirt, "I'm wearing two. Gimme a little credit here. I was a smoker for fifteen years, and I promise our babies will never even smell a cigarette as long as they live. Be patient with me."

Sango's expression went from irritation to a gentle smile, and she nodded with a small shrug.

"So the meeting went well?" she said softly.

"Yeah," he said, "I'd say pretty much a lock. We're gonna have a Scorsese film in our repertoire. The future is blindingly bright."

They high-fived.

Kohaku knocked on the office door and poked his head in. He looked a little pink in the face, a little flustered. "Someone to see you guys," he said.

He stepped back to reveal a petite teenage girl with long, flowing white-blonde hair, a black sundress, and a solemn expression.

"Oh, hey, Kanna," Miroku said, "How's college treating you?"

"My master's thesis is quite stimulating," Kanna said absently, her eyes focusing on Sango. "It concerns the study of occult religions and their spread in modern society. Very illuminating work. It keeps me occupied most of the time."

"Sounds...interesting," Sango said, shooting Miroku a brief look of amusement.

"Your belly is absolutely enormous," Kanna observed.

"Well spotted." Miroku leaned back against the desk and folded his arms. "Want something to drink? We've got coffee, tea, soda -"

"Black coffee is preferable," Kanna said sagely.

Through the open office door in front of them, Kohaku scrambled to his feet and rushed to the coffeepot to pour a mug, which he handed to Kanna somewhat clumsily. He looked a little flustered and speechless, poor boy.

Sango leaned against the desk next to Miroku, and he felt her nudge his elbow meaningfully.

"Thank you," Kanna said, meeting Kohaku's eyes with that thousand-yard stare, and holding the gaze in silence for a few seconds. Kohaku cleared his throat awkwardly and ran a hand through his hair.

"Why do your hands shake like that?" Kanna asked.

Kohaku turned fifty shades of red, and looked absolutely mortified and ashamed. "Uh," he mumbled, clasping his hands in front of him, "When I was younger, I was in a bad accident."

Kanna just nodded. "It's okay," she said, "When I was younger, I was dying. Well, I mean, I'm still dying. Just not as fast as I used to. I'm dying at the same speed you are now."

Miroku opened his mouth to interject, but Sango's hand on his stopped him. Her smile was reassuring. Give it a second, she seemed to say, You know that's just Kanna's way.

Kanna took in this information and nodded slightly, then stepped up to Kohaku just a bit closer. "You have interesting eyes," she said after a bit, "I like you."

Sango squeezed Miroku's hand almost triumphantly. He knew if she'd been at liberty she would have laughed out loud. "You know, Kanna," she said smoothly, "Kohaku's enrolling at UCLA this fall, the same place as you. I'd feel so much better if you were there to show him around sometime."

Kohaku shot Sango that look that only younger brothers can send their embarrassing older sisters. His face was fifty shades of red.

Kanna merely shrugged in agreement and tucked a lock of long pale hair behind her ear. "Will you be there at the party tonight?" she asked Kohaku.

"What party?" Miroku whispered to Sango, who elbowed him in the ribs with a roll of her eyes.

"The party at the Takahashi place, you idiot," she hissed, "You know, Kagome's surprise party?"

"Oh, right. That's today?"

He was answered with a gentle bop on the back of his head. "Spousal abuse," he pouted.

"I know a hotline you can call," Kanna volunteered.

"Thank you, Kanna." Miroku grinned.

Kohaku just looked at her, confused and intrigued and completely taken aback.

 


 

"We'll be landing in just a few minutes, Mrs. Takahashi. Can I get you anything else?"

Kagome looked up from her laptop, where even now, she was furiously scrolling through and editing photos. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she was blanketed in her favorite giant sweatshirt.

"No, thanks," she said brightly, shutting her computer and all but shoving it into her bag, then rushing to the private bathroom to change clothes. She'd only slept four of the last twenty-four hours, but when you were an in-demand music photographer producing a Judas Priest coffee table book full of round-the-world concert shots, your work was never done, right?

She let her hair down and slipped into some black denim shorts and a cutoff tee shirt. The combat boots could stay. They'd never let her down before.

"What time is it?" she called to the pilot, who looked over his shoulder from the tiny cockpit and smiled at her.

"Five o'clock," he said.

Kagome grinned, feeling the excitement brewing in her stomach.

Ahead of schedule. Perfect.

"Don't tell him, okay?" she said, tossing her plane clothes into her duffel bag, "I want to surprise him. I mean, I know, I know, technically he owns the plane...and the airstrip...but just...leave him in the dark unless he asks?"

 


 

Nazuna opened the door and gave her a silent hug. Kagome had coffee in one hand and her finger pressed to her lips with the other.

"Welcome home, Miss Kagome," Nazuna whispered, reaching out to help her with the bags, "We've all missed you. A week is just too long!"

"I know," Kagome said with a groan, "But don't worry. Just one more concert to shoot in Tokyo at the end of the month, and then the book is ready for final editing." She glanced back and forth in the living room, towards the east hallway, and then the west.

"Where?" she whispered, pointing in both directions.

Nazuna grinned and pointed west, toward the game room.

Kagome smiled and ran a hand through her hair as she tiptoed that way. Guess I shoulda known, huh?

She reached the entrance of the game room and just leaned on the open doorframe.

Waiting for someone to look up.

"Mama! Mama!"

And we have a winner. Kagome sprang forward and reached out her arms to grab her silver-haired, blue-eyed son under his arms, pulling him close and tearfully kissing him.

"Axel! Axel, my big big boy! Did you miss me?"

Axel immediately leaned back in her arms and laughed. "Mama home!" he said, raising two pudgy three-year-old fists in what could only be described as triumph. He was dressed most appropriately, in his favorite Iron Maiden tee shirt (Kagome had been so excited when during her first pregnancy she had realized just how small tee shirt sizes could get for heavy metal merchandise. So. Freaking. Excited.)

"Mama home," Kagome agreed, snuggling him close. Ugh, she thought, this kid is just the bomb, ain't he? I mean, sure, every parent thinks that, but hey. I'm allowed to be right about this one.

"Where's Daddy?" she asked Axel after a moment.

Axel looked over at the couch behind the billiard table. Behind it, from the floor, a hand raised up and waved.

"Right here," Inuyasha said, "but I can't move."

Kagome frowned, slung Axel onto her hip, and moved forward to investigate.

"Oh," she said, her face breaking into a giant, elated smile once more.

Inuyasha lay on his back, both arms folded behind his head. He wore his old favorite Clutch shirt, the one she'd bought him that very first trip to Amsterdam, and some comfortable jeans.

And on top of his (sculpted, gorgeous, godlike) chest…

A baby girl, about eleven months old, with wispy, curly black hair pulled into tiny pigtails and eyes as amber as her father's. At the sight of her mom, the baby squealed with delight and held her arms out, bobbing up and down on her dad's chest and making him wince slightly.

"Ow, kid," Inuyasha grumbled, sitting up and scooping her in his arms as he said to Kagome, "This one here will be the death of me, baby. I'm sure of it."

"We already knew that," Kagome said, practically sliding over the couch with Axel cradled in the crook of her elbow. "You always had a soft spot for the dark-haired girls."

Inuyasha reached out, placed a hand at the back of her neck, and pulled her in for a long, lingering kiss.

"Missed you," Inuyasha muttered, grinning, when they parted, "Missed you like crazy. Didn't we, guys?"

Axel nodded, and the baby girl in Inuyasha's arms began to fuss a little and reached for Kagome more fervently.

"Ready, switch!" Kagome laughed, and she and Inuyasha exchanged kids so she could snuggle her littlest one, closing her eyes and feeling that telltale grabbing of tiny, curious hands all over her hair.

Miroku had sort of gotten his way in the end, Kagome thought as the baby smiled up at her. Their firstborn had been a boy, but Inuyasha had absolutely put his foot down at naming him Miroku. It was going to make the kid a menace to society, he'd warned.

But Kagome had always remembered how much she owed to one of her oldest and dearest friends.

When their daughter was born about two years later, they'd named her Lita (in keeping with the hard rock tradition they'd started).

But from the start, and until it was too late for Inuyasha to catch on to the meaning and reverse the decision, Kagome had suggested they just call her Mimi. Her own bit of wifely cleverness, as she just loved to remind Inuyasha about from time to time.

The doorbell rang, and they could hear the sound of people filing into the living room.

Kagome frowned, pulling a lock of her hair out of Mimi's mouth. "Inuyasha, what the hell?"

Her husband, now with Axel somehow sitting on top of his head, grinned sheepishly. "Wasn't my idea," he said, "Seems no one around here can go more than a week without you."

 


 

"Kagome!" Sango half-walked, half-waddled to greet her.

Kagome laughed. "I swear, every time I see you it's harder and harder to hug you."

"Don't I know it," Sango said, "I'm so ready for these kids to get the hell out of me."

Inuyasha winced where Axel was pulling on his ear, trying for some godforsaken reason to climb even higher on his father's head.

"In the meantime, you two," Inuyasha said, making a face of mock exhaustion, "enjoy your full nights of sleep. Pretty soon they'll be gone forever."

Sango moaned and made a face, turning to glare at her husband. "Why did we do this again?" she asked, unable to keep a straight face and breaking out into giggles.

"Because you couldn't keep your hands off me," Miroku said sagely, sipping a water and clearly wishing it was a proper drink but playing the good boy game for his poor deprived wife. He put his glass down on the kitchen island and reached out for his somewhat-namesake.

"Here's my little legacy," he cooed at Mimi, who immediately smiled and started drooling all over him.

"And what the hell do you call this?" Sango snapped, gesturing wildly to her gigantic belly.

"Don't listen to her," Miroku said with a smirk as Mimi tried to stick her finger up his nose, "Your Auntie Sango doesn't understand what a special bond we have, does she?"

"I swear to you, Houshi," Sango growled, seemingly unable to completely break the last-name habit even after all this time, "When these kids are out of me, I'm coming after you."

"That a promise?" Miroku transferred Mimi to his hip and leaned in to kiss her.

The doorbell rang again. It was Kouga and Ayame, still happily unmarried and currently living in paradise, sharing a renovated castle on a European island and setting the film world aflame every few months respectively.

"Kagome," Ayame said sweetly, kissing her cheek, "We've missed seeing you!"

"I know," Kagome said, "Work's been crazy lately. But this fall, when Inuyasha starts filming in Scotland, we'll come visit you, I promise!"

"How's it feel?" Kouga asked Inuyasha slyly, clapping him on the back, "Your directorial debut?"

Inuyasha slid Axel onto his shoulders and gave a mystified sigh. "Ask me again when it's over and I've lost thirty pounds due to stress."

Kouga laughed. "Fair enough. If this one goes well though, that's another gold statue to stick on the mantlepiece."

Everyone's eyes trained upward to where the three Oscars sat, all in a row. Two for acting, one for producing. The sign of career longevity, as Miroku so mercenarily put it.

"If the kids don't break those three first," Inuyasha chuckled, Axel's hands now covering his eyes.

The doorbell rang once more. Kagome looked at Inuyasha, then around at the rest of the party. Who were they missing?

Oh, of course!

Kanna. She walked in, clad in one of her fabulous black lace dresses and sneakers, and without saying hello to anyone else in the room, she made a beeline for Axel, who laughed in delight and practically jumped off his dad's shoulders into her thin arms. Once the boy was wrapped around her neck, she approached the group, nodding in greeting at everyone in turn before gently laying her head on Kagome's shoulder. Kagome grinned and hugged her around the shoulders with one arm.

And who was this, following Kanna inside?

"Hi, Kohaku!" Sango looked like she was on the verge of bursting with laughter. The kid was covered in black lipstick kiss marks, his collar was crooked, and his face was a bright tomato red. He just waved at them weakly and stumbled off to the bathroom to clean up his face.

"I'm going to marry him," Kanna said matter-of-factly, unsmilingly, as she gently poked Axel in the belly to make him giggle. "Once he's finished with college, of course. I'll be a PhD by then, so we'll have a wonderful life together."

The entire group shook with laughter, and Kagome leaned back to snuggle into her husband's arms. Inuyasha laid his chin atop her head.

"So how was the surprise?" he whispered.

She grinned up at him and tweaked his nose playfully. "You're the one getting a surprise. But that's later, Jerkface." She winked.

 


THE END (THE REAL, ACTUAL, OH MY GOD THIS IS IT, AHHHHHGH, END)


 

Chapter 64: Valentine's Day Special!

Summary:

In which Kanna is the world's oddest babysitting choice, the grownups go to a pretty sweet nightclub, and Kagome and Inuyasha have to confront a VERY familiar face.

Chapter Text

 

The It Couple

VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL!

(OR: Suplexes and the Power of 'Nope')

 

"Kanna, do we have to?" Kohaku grumbled, thumping his chin onto the table surface and fixing her with his best childish pout. "I never agreed to this."

His girlfriend took a loud, bubbly sip through her straw and set her now-empty soda down, fixing him with that deathly serious stare over the lenses of her black-rimmed reading spectacles. "Do you hate Inuyasha? Do you hate Kagome?" She leaned forward, her whisper barely audible over the hum of noise in the university food court. "Do you hate your sister?"

What the hell kind of question - "Of course I don't!"

Her dark eyes narrowed before returning to her enormous textbook. "Alright, then."

"I just - I mean, it's Valentine's Day, Kanna," Kohaku protested, sliding his hand forward over the table to cover hers, "And it's our third year together. Shouldn't we, you know, spend a little time, just the two of us? I was gonna make us a nice dinner, and maybe rent one of your favorite movies and just curl up on the couch…"

"We are perfectly capable of enjoying each other's company every other day of the year," Kanna said, not looking up from the text she was perusing but intertwining her fingers with his nonetheless, "Valentine's Day is a scam invented to sell greeting cards. It's utterly meaningless. I don't need a holiday to encourage my affection for you, dearest." A light squeeze of his hand, though her expression never changed.

Kohaku sighed. Once again, her logic was starting to win out. It always did. It was the thing about her that he admired most, and the thing that most often would drive him to near insanity.

"So we're stuck babysitting my nieces and those two crazy Takahashi kids, while everyone else gets to go out and have fun?"

Kanna was still reading. Research for a doctoral thesis was always intense, Kohaku knew, but Kanna's commitment to her academic career was incredible, even by those standards. He waited patiently for her to finish her paragraph, and the silence between them was interrupted only by the irritating squeak of a highlighter dragged across the page, until she finally sat back and looked up at him again, removing her reading glasses.

"You're welcome to join the others at whatever loud, expensive nightclub they end up at," she said quietly, and though the statement would have seemed harsh and blunt to any other listening ears, he knew she was just speaking plainly. As she always did. Kanna language. "I made a promise to Kagome. And if everyone broke promises society would crumble and fall. Besides, they have a better home-theatre setup than we do."

"You literally only said yes for the surround sound and the reclining plush seats." Kohaku broke into a small smile as the realization dawned on him.

Kanna didn't return the smile, but if she had it would have honestly terrified him and made him wonder what sort of alternate universe he'd woken up in. "You also seem to be underestimating the benefit of watching small children who go to sleep early in the evening. I still have an entire wing of the house for my own particular use, if you'll recall." She looked off in the distance, as if lost in thought. "Kagome bought me custom furniture when I moved in. All black."

Kohaku felt the heat flush up the back of his neck, and as he reached up to tug at his collar, he realized his hands were trembling.

Kanna noticed the tremor too. "Is that a brain damage tremor or an I-love-Kanna tremor?"

Kohaku snorted with laughter. Only you would say it that way. And I adore you for it. In a world where everyone else shied away from the subject, she would always just ask him about it point-blank.

"Probably both," he laughed. The tremor slowed and disappeared as quickly as it had come.

 


 

"AXEL!"

Kagome paused, frowned, and sat back from her laptop, craning her head over her shoulder. The house had been quiet for a few blessed moments, with Inuyasha in his office answering emails from god-knows-who and the kids playing with their toys very nicely and sweetly. So of course, she'd decided to get some much-needed editing work done before they went out for Valentine's Day tonight. And of course, quiet in the Takahashi household usually meant something insane was about to happen.

With a heavy sigh and a chuckle to herself, she stood up and followed her husband's voice down the hallway, around the corner, through the massive living room, and into the kids' game room.

Mimi was hiding behind the doorway, her twin pigtails hanging sideways as she peeked inside. Kagome smiled to herself and crouched low to whisper in the four-year-old's ear.

"What happened?"

Mimi turned at the sound of her mother's voice, her little nose red and sniffly, and just pointed hesitantly, her little cherub face pinched with nervousness. "Daddy's mad." Kagome ruffled her hair reassuringly and stood to walk past her into the room.

Her precious, beloved son stood there in the center of the room, looking sheepish and a bit glum. And her precious, beloved husband was standing facing the opposite wall, bracing himself upright with a clenched fist, with his eyes screwed shut as he seemed to be trying to calm down.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome said, stepping forward. "What happened?"

At the sight of her, Axel immediately ran forward and threw his arms around her waist, burying his face in her shirt. "We were just playing! I promise, Mom! I didn't mean to!"

Kagome suppressed a grin, glancing up at Inuyasha meaningfully.

Finally, Inuyasha took a deep breath and spoke. "You didn't mean to throw your little sister through the air into the wall?" He pointed at the new Mimi-shaped dent just below the window.

Jesus CHRIST. Kagome's mouth fell open in stunned silence and she glanced back at Mimi, who was still peeking through the doorway. Sure enough, there it was. A huge bruise starting to form on the little girl's left arm.

Axel, what the hell! She thought it, but she didn't say it. "Mimi, sweetheart, are you okay?"

Mimi just nodded, her lower lip quivering a little. She wasn't crying, not really. She's a tough little firecracker, gotta give her that. Of course, having to try and keep up with the actual tornado that was her older brother had no doubt given her a spine of steel that belied her mere four years of age.

"Axel," Kagome looked down at her son, who was still plastered around her waist and clearly doing his best to be cute and small and precious, "Why did you throw your sister?" Even saying it out loud sounded ludicrous.

"A question I'd also like the answer to," growled Inuyasha, folding his arms across his chest and fixing Axel with his patented stern-father face.

"W-We were playing," Axel said, his voice muffled into Kagome's stomach. Kagome gently untangled his arms from around her and stepped backward.

"Playing what?" Inuyasha held out his arms, and Mimi rushed forward and scrambled into them. He held out her arm to examine it, turning it over gently. "Does it hurt?" he asked her, his voice low and soft.

Mimi nodded, glancing at Axel with a guilty expression, like she was scared of ratting her beloved big brother out. Inuyasha placed a featherlight kiss over the bruise, then turned back to their older child. "Playing what, Axel?"

"...Pro wrestling." Axel mumbled the words.

She'd been married to him now for eight years, so Kagome knew by the minute changes in Inuyasha's expression when he was about to lose that famous temper of his, so she just gave him her best let-me-handle-this smile and spoke up quickly.

"Did Mimi want to play pro wrestling?"

Axel looked as if that question had never occurred to him. Kagome fought back a sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

"You can't just throw your sister, kid," Inuyasha said with narrowed golden eyes.

"I didn't throw her," Axel said, "I suplexed her."

There it was. A quirk of Inuyasha's eyebrow. A snarl curling at the corner of his lips. Down, boy, Kagome thought, crouching down to stare Axel in the eyes.

"I can't believe I'm having to tell you this, as old as you are," she said sternly, "but you are not allowed to play pro wrestling in the house. Or anywhere, unless you're with your Aunt Ayame and she's taken you to her dad's gym again. Understand me?"

Axel gave a petulant glance toward the floor. A glance that looked so familiar that it nearly made Kagome crack up and forget that she was trying to do the mom thing right now. "Yes, Mom," he mumbled.

"Now apologize to Mimi."

Axel looked over at his sister, who was still hanging on Inuyasha's hip. He looked truly downtrodden and regretful, and it made Kagome want to just envelop him in her arms and cuddle him, but no, she couldn't, because that would undermine her whole speech just now -

"I'm sorry, Mimi."

Inuyasha's angry expression finally relaxed into general peevedness.

"If you want," Axel continued, "You can hit me back."

Dammit, Axel.

"No one is hitting anybody," Kagome said, gripping Axel's shoulder tightly enough so he knew she meant it. "Axel, you're not hitting Mimi, and Mimi, you don't hit Axel. Are we clear?"

Mimi nodded. Axel just bit his lip.

"Axel!" Inuyasha said sharply.

"I got it, Dad. I'm sorry." Axel glanced up at Kagome then, those blue eyes of his shining. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'll never do it again."

By the look on Inuyasha's face, he was buying it just as much as Kagome was. She sent her husband a wink as she said, "Better not."

 


 

"Well," Inuyasha grumbled as he pulled off his tee shirt and tossed it onto their bed before reaching for the dress shirt he had laid next to it, "Guess that rules out taking the kids to the park this weekend. All we need is for some fucking paps to see that huge honking bruise on Mimi's arm and then there'll be headlines for weeks about possible abuse in our household."

Kagome didn't respond for several seconds.

"Baby?" He turned and glanced over his shoulder.

She was standing there at her vanity in her bra and jeans, bracing herself upright with both arms and shaking with silent laughter.

He couldn't help it; he broke into a confused grin. "What the hell are you laughing about?"

She just laughed harder and doubled over over the table. "He - he suplexed her! He physically picked her up and just - " She mimicked the move, throwing her arms backward over her head, cackling to herself. "I know, I know, it's not funny and I shouldn't be laughing and we're so lucky she didn't break her arm, but that mental image of Axel just - " She covered her mouth with one hand and her bare stomach with the other.

"You are terrible," he chuckled, turning back to the dress shirt and moving to throw it over his shoulders.

"Not my fault he's exactly like his dad," she said, "An idiot."

"Hmph," he huffed, reaching for the buttons.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Suddenly, Kagome's hand was on his chest, and she stood there with a huge grin on her face and ran it up and down over his abs. Her touch was light, caressing. "Let me appreciate."

"Oh for fuck's sake - "

"Shh," she said with mock severity, "I just need a moment. Let me have this."

"You perv," he said, leaning down to touch his forehead to hers with a mischievous smirk, "Don't worry. You can have all you want later tonight."

Kagome's smile was bright and dazzling as always, with the dimple on her cheek that he loved so much on full display. "Promise?"

He kissed her, and her arms snaked upward around his neck, pulling him closer with a small, delighted squeak.

"Hey, hey, cut that shit out," he scolded, knowing he likely had a huge stupid smile on his face and not particularly caring, "You - we- have to get dressed. Miroku and Sango and the twins are due here in a few minutes. I mean, unless you wanna go out like that."

Kagome glanced down at her bra and jeans ensemble. "Hmm, maybe not," she said with a smirk, "Alright, alright, I'm getting dressed. But you owe me!"

Everything, he thought, watching her as she darted into the closet.

 


 

It was so hard to concentrate on the road. Miroku knew he deserved several medals.

The twins were chattering in baby talk in the backseat (twin talk, Sango called it), they were on their fiftieth reprise of goddamn "Wheels on the Bus" playing on the car stereo, and his gorgeous wife was next to him in the front seat in a very short mini-dress with her immaculate legs on full display. And of course, his wife being the absolute badass she was, she was in the middle of a phone call with a studio executive, not even batting an eye at the cacophony of noise around her.

Finally, mercifully, they arrived at the Takahashi palace and buzzed through the gate. Another seven or so minutes of unloading the kids, the diaper bags, the snack packs (the one thing he hadn't been prepared for when he became a father - all the stuff they required wherever they went), all of it.

"Need a hand?" Kagome poked her head out of the front door.

"Of course not," Miroku said, grinning through the bag strap caught between his teeth, his speech muffled, "We're experts. King and Queen of Parenting."

"Hey, Kagome!" Sango had both twin girls by the hand and was gently walking them up toward the door. "Is Kanna here yet?"

"She's on her way. She and Kohaku left right as you guys did, so it should be any minute." Kagome bent to pick up Kimmy, the younger of the twins, who as of lately was obsessed with her Aunt Kagome and had already been reaching for her.

"Thank god," Miroku said through his gritted teeth, stumbling under the weight of all the bags. Suddenly the ever-wonderful Nazuna also appeared through the open doorway, and she immediately took a few of them off his hands. "And thank you, Nazuna."

Nazuna grinned and disappeared back into the house.

"Any paps at the gate?" Kagome said, peering off in the direction of the entrance to the property, which was hidden behind the hill. Her smile was a little tighter.

"No," Sango said, "Why? Expecting some?"

Kagome visibly sighed. "We always get a few whenever Kikyou's back in the press. She announced her new movie this morning, but then again, you probably knew that. It's sort of you guys' jobs to know everything." She turned and led them into the house, and Nazuna, ever ready and devoted, shut the door behind all of them.

"She should be sending you two royalty checks," Miroku grumbled, "You've single-handedly kept her an object of interest in the public eye for the last eight years." He let the bags dropped and cracked his shoulder. Man, I'm getting old. Just kill me now.

Sango discreetly elbowed him in the side. "Kagome, if you'd rather not go out tonight, that's okay, we can just - "

"Hell no!" Kagome said, "Oh, I mean, heck no." She wrinkled her nose and nuzzled at Kimmy's face. "I made a promise to myself long ago. I'm going to live my life and be happy. Best revenge is living well, right?"

Miroku reached out and ruffled Kagome's hair. "You're so mature, Kagome. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad." She rolled her eyes.

There was the sound of lumbering footsteps, like a stampede.

Kagome shook her head and laughed. "Well, here comes the cavalry."

And then they appeared around the corner. Mini Inuyasha and Mini Kagome, he called them.

"Kimmy and Ally are here!" shouted Axel, barrelling toward the crowd of them, and for a heart-stopping instant Miroku had a vision of the kid just failing to stop and knocking them all down like bowling pins, but the boy skidded to a stop in his white cotton socks. His silver-white hair was sticking out all over the place. Mini Inuyasha to the core.

Mimi, the little angel, was clearly doing her best to keep up with her big brother but was defeated by her shorter legs. She grinned up at the adults with pure delight. "Uncle Moku!"

"Hi, sweetheart," he said, feeling his stone heart just melt as he bent to pick her up for a hug. "How are you?"

"Axel spooplexed me!" She held out her arm excitedly, showing off an ugly bruise running down her arm.

"...He what, now?"

"Long story," Inuyasha said, appearing from the bedroom hallway in a smart tailored suit. "Trust me, you don't wanna know."

"Uh-huh." Sango had on her skeptical face.

"Hi, Aunt Sango," said Axel briefly before turning his attention to Ally, who was still clutching her mother's hand. "Hi, Ally!"

"Yep, sure," Miroku grumbled, "Hi, how are you, Axel, my name is Chopped Liver."

Kagome and Sango giggled, and Miroku turned to glare at them. "Thanks for all the support, ladies, really. Axel, I like your shirt. What does it say?"

Axel gave him a look like he was the biggest idiot in the world and held out the shirtfront to display the writing. "It says 'AC/DC.'"

Well, excuse the hell out of me, mini Inuyasha.

The phone rang, and Nazuna appeared seemingly from out of nowhere to answer it. "Kanna's here," she announced, hanging up.

 


 

"So their snacks are in the purple - no, the blue bag," Sango scrolled through her list, brow furrowed in concentration, "and they're just starting potty training so we've got pull-ups, but I'd put them in real diapers before you put them down for the night. The portable playpen has a roll-out mattress, so you can use that, but no pillows, just a thin blanket."

Leave it to Sango to make a bulleted list for a few hours' worth of childcare. Inuyasha sent Kagome a smirk across the room, and she smiled back.

Kanna, meanwhile, was listening intently. Or maybe that was just her face. After eight years of knowing the kid, it was still hard to tell.

Inuyasha glanced just behind her at Kohaku, whose nieces were currently latched onto both of his hands and dragging him around the living room while babbling excitedly. He looked tired already. Welcome to my life, kid.

"You're spending the night, right?" Kagome asked when Sango finally seemed satisfied that she'd covered everything. "I don't know how late we'll be, or if we'll have to wait for our table - "

"Kagome," Miroku was at the bar mixing himself a scotch and seltzer, "You're married to the most famous movie star in the world. If we have to wait for a table, I'm getting new friends to leech off of."

"Well, anyway," Kagome sent Miroku a brief look and continued as if he hadn't spoken, "Your room is all ready to go. Clean sheets, bath towels if you want to shower, et cetera."

"And no scary movies with the kids awake," Inuyasha added. That had been a point of contention last time Kanna had babysat.

Kanna turned and fixed him with that unsettling stare. "I'm sorry you think 'The Crow' is scary. I thought it was a beautiful love story."

"It is literally about coming back from the dead to murder people."

She gave a minute shrug. "You're the parents."

 


 

"We did it!" Miroku sank into the backseat as if he had lost all feeling in his limbs. "We're actually going. Nothing went wrong."

"Don't jinx it, you idiot!" There was the sound of a gentle smack from the backseat.

"Oooh, do that again."

"Houshi?"

"Yes, Mrs. Houshi?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Kagome glanced over at Inuyasha. He was shaking his head and chuckling under his breath as he put the car in gear and started down the driveway.

As they approached, they saw them.

The flashes. Just a few, maybe three or four, but they were going off like crazy.

"Ugh," Kagome said, running a hand over her face, "I knew it."

"It'll be alright, baby," Inuyasha said, reaching over to brush his hand over her knee, "One of the perks of living the life we do - exclusive hidden entrances."

She knew the car windows were heavily tinted, that there would be no clear images in any of the ill-gotten photos, but she still found herself instinctively slouching lower as they passed through the gate.

 


 

"Who's performing tonight, anyway?" Kagome asked, looping her fingers around her frosted glass of beer, looking around the crowded club.

It was decorated much like an old-timey nightclub from Hollywood's golden age, with an enormous dance floor and a stage with a huge brass band.

"Not any metal bands, that's for sure," Miroku smirked as he tossed back the last of his whiskey-on-the-rocks. "Sorry, Kagome. How will you ever survive?"

Kagome tossed her napkin at his face from across the table. "Sango, can I kill him and make you a widow?"

Sango was perusing the food menu and didn't miss a beat. "I just took out extra life insurance on him," she said, "Give me one more month so it doesn't look suspicious."

"Ha!" Miroku scoffed, leaning in to kiss Sango's cheek, "You'd never do that. You'd miss me too much. Plus you'd have to raise the twins by yourself."

"A good life insurance payout would finance an awesome nanny."

Inuyasha snaked an arm around Kagome's waist and leaned back against the booth. She leaned into him, laying her head gently against his shoulder.

She was so beautiful. And he loved her so goddamn much. And the night was just beginning.

Could anything ever ruin an evening like this? He voiced the thought in his head.

And then there was a small commotion, raising the general volume of the already noisy room. The four of them craned their heads to follow the noise.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Sango spat, her brown eyes narrowed with unfiltered rage.

What was that thing Sango said earlier about not jinxing it? Way to go, you absolute moron.

It was the first time they'd seen Kikyou in the flesh in nearly eight years, not counting passing glimpses on red carpets and the constant onslaught of her image all over the television all the time. Miroku and Sango, ever loyal to their most famous and money-making client, had always firmly emphasized to every single event organizer and bigshot that under no circumstances should Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi ever be seated near or forced to interact with Kikyou Higurashi. And it had always worked.

But, of course, fate had a way of fucking with the best-laid plans, right?

"Of all the nightclubs in LA," Sango hissed, "She picked this one? I call bullshit. This is no coincidence." She turned to Kagome and Inuyasha, clearly in full protective mode. "Did you tell anyone where we were going tonight?"

"Of course not!" Kagome said.

"We're not stupid," Inuyasha muttered, pulling Kagome a little closer.

Miroku, long finished with his own drink, reached over and took a generous sip of Sango's, a troubled frown on his face.

Kikyou, looking angelic as she always had, waited for her date to pull out her chair before taking a seat, the skirt of her ruby red evening gown billowing around her. She was smiling at all the attention, all the whispers. The Queen, holding court. Some things never fucking change, do they?

"Does she see us?" Kagome said softly. Her black-polished fingers were awkwardly fiddling with her necklace, and she was staring down at the white-clothed table.

"I don't know," Inuyasha replied truthfully, then leaned closer to whisper, "Do you wanna go?"

The fidgeting stopped, and her nervous stare hardened into a steely glower. "No," she said softly, "I don't know what her goal is, what she's planning, but she is not ruining my Valentine's Day." She sat up a little straighter and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Fuck it."

Before anyone else could say something, the music flared up, and the entire club broke into applause.

Miroku raised his hand to signal for another round of drinks.

And here I was, about to ask Kagome to dance, Inuyasha thought glumly.

 


 

The music was sultry and jazzy. Definitely not Kagome's usual vibe (not enough leather and studs and screaming high notes), but nice enough for a change. It all felt very fancy, which she realized was an ironic thought for half of one of the wealthiest couples in Hollywood to have. But then again, we've always been low-key, I guess. She snuck a glance down at her husband's brand new Rolex watch. ...Well, relatively so.

She pointedly refused to look over at Kikyou, so she had no idea if Kikyou was looking back.

But then of course, her estranged older sister made it clear that she wanted to dance, and so there was no keeping her out of Kagome's peripheral.

How did she find out where we were going? Sango's right; this is no coincidence. Kikyou just announced a new movie this morning, and if there's one thing she knows, it's how to get press attention.

Inuyasha seemed to be thinking the same thing as she was, because he watched Kikyou laughingly get spun around by the poor idiot she'd convinced to date her with a very suspicious glare.

"I can't stand this bullshit," Sango spat, now well into her third strong drink of the evening.

"You and me both, babe." Miroku had his mouth full of some overpriced appetizer and was chewing thoughtfully.

Sango set her glass down and placed both palms on the tabletop, as if she could take no more. "Houshi, c'mon," she muttered, "We're dancing."

Miroku swallowed, looking like she'd just told him she was, in fact, an alien from Mars. "Sango, babe, you don't dance. You've insisted that to me about twenty-three thousand, one hundred fifty times since we got married."

"I dance now," she hissed, glaring over at the back of Kikyou's head, "Right now. How else am I gonna trip this bitch and make her wipe out on the dance floor?"

"I love you so much," Miroku said, throwing down his napkin and following her out of the booth.

Kagome gave a muted smile at Inuyasha, who in return leaned over and kissed her. "You're still having fun, right?" he murmured, so close she could feel his breath ghosting over her lips, "I know it's not our normal sort of date night, but I figured once in a blue moon we could be hoity-toity celebrity people, you know?"

"It is fun," she insisted, brushing his bangs out of his face lovingly. "I promise I'm having a great time."

He didn't look certain, and she knew he was worried. It was adorable. He was such a teddy bear underneath it all.

"I was gonna ask you to dance, of course," he said, flicking his head back toward the dance floor behind them, "but I'm sure you don't want to open that whole can of worms, right?"

"That can of worms was never fully closed in the first place," Kagome said, once again letting herself settle against his shoulder, "I don't know if it ever will be. Things are rarely ever that simple in the real world. Life isn't a blockbuster movie."

Inuyasha seemed to have no real reply to that, because he just kissed the top of her head and raised his glass to take another sip.

And for some reason, when Kagome saw the glum expression on his face that he was trying so desperately to hide for her sake, she felt her resolve turn to steel once again.

She nudged him, and he nearly choked on an ice cube.

"Oops, sorry!" She couldn't help the laugh as she reached up with a napkin to wipe the whiskey off his chin.

"What gives?" he grumbled, "Trying to kill me, I see."

"No, I don't have any extra life insurance on you. Well, actually, the one policy we do have is more than enough. I could live for the rest of my days quite comfortably. Hey, let's go dance!"

"Very funny."

"I'm serious, let's fucking do it."

Inuyasha quirked an eyebrow at her. He wasn't buying what she was selling, clearly. "You know she's going to see us and try to make a thing of it," he said slowly, "Why give her the opportunity?"

"I have a plan. One that doesn't involve tripping her, as tempting as Sango's idea was."

 


 

"Babe, I know you're on a mission from Satan right now," Miroku said softly into her ear, "but could you at least stop with that terrifying expression on your face? And also maybe look at me instead, so we can enjoy our romantic dance and you won't keep stomping all over my feet with those spike heels."

Sango blinked away from where she was glaring daggers at Kikyou over Miroku's shoulder and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'm just marking the territory here."

"That makes it sound like you're a dog going to the - "

"Houshi?"

"Yes, Mrs. Houshi?"

"Shut up."

"Okay, but you're getting twirled in three, two, one…"

"Wait, what?" Sango stumbled as he sent her spinning under his arm. "Houshi, cut it out, I'm trying to be intimidating here!" She caught herself roughly using his arms to brace herself and resumed her death glare over his shoulder. "Oh, good, she saw me. I want her to know we know she knows we're here."

"Run that last sentence by me again?" Miroku sighed, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his wife's temple.

"I said I want her to know we know she knows - oh, never mind." Sango's mind was clearly elsewhere, but she still leaned forward for another kiss even as she kept her eyes on Kikyou across the dance floor. It's my animal magnetism, Miroku thought with a smirk, She can't resist me even now. I am a god among men.

Before Miroku had the chance to whisper something filthy into her ear, her grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened painfully. "Hoooooly shit," she whispered, pressing her cheek to his, "Kagome and Inuyasha are coming to dance."

"This should be good."

"How is this possibly good?"

"Maybe Kagome will punch her like she punched you that one time."

From his vantage point he could see her ears turn a little pink. "You promised you'd never mention that again, asshole."

"You know I love you, right?" he laughed.

"I know, dammit. You still suck, though."

Kagome and Inuyasha had taken a place next to them, in full view of Kikyou. Sango glanced across the floor again, and she could swear she saw Kikyou's eyes light up even as she pretended to be entirely focused on the poor bastard she'd conned into thinking she was a nice person.

"You guys know she sees you, right?" Sango whispered at them.

"Who cares," said Kagome dreamily, gazing up at her much-taller husband as he pulled her closer.

"Let her see." Inuyasha said, clearly on the same page.

Sure enough, Kikyou was starting to be more obvious as she kept her eyes on the couple, even craning her neck around to avoid breaking the gaze a few times.

"What's she doing?" Miroku asked, still facing away from the entire scene.

"She's sweating," Sango said, "She can't stand it."

"Ten-four. Okay, twirling again, three, two - "

"Houshi, not again - "

"One!"

"Dammit, you are the worst when I'm trying to concentrate!"

The song ended, and all the dancers on the floor paused to applaud the band, who took a brief bow and waved their thanks before breaking into a faster, swing-style number.

It seemed Kikyou was relishing the growing whispers and points from the rest of the clubgoers, and the opportunity was too hard to pass up, so she steered her poor date closer. Close enough to where they were dancing right beside Kagome and Inuyasha.

The targets in question, however, were pointedly ignoring her. They were spinning around quickly, Kagome's movements a little clumsy and inexperienced, Inuyasha being the stalwart teacher and helping her through it. They were laughing and happy and clearly lost in each other's eyes. It was a true Hallmark moment. The stuff of greeting cards and terribly-plotted Christmas movies.

"They are so fucking cute, by the way," she whispered into Miroku's ear.

"You say that all the time."

"It's true, though. Oh, god, here she goes." Sango couldn't help it, she stopped still and quit her imitation of dancing altogether.

There was a thumping sound as Miroku stumbled. "Really, Sango?"

"Shhhh!" She held tightly onto him.

 


 

"Kagome?"

Kagome fought back the snort of laughter. Here we go. She sent Inuyasha a wink, and he smirked.

They both kept dancing, and Inuyasha twirled her around to face Kikyou for just a moment before spinning her back inward toward him.

Kikyou stood there, exuding an aura of meek kindness and humility, clasping her hands in front of her with an overjoyed smile on her face.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she said, blinking innocently, "I've missed you."

Kagome didn't answer, just kept looking up into her husband's face with a fond smile.

"I get asked about you two all the time." Kikyou kept plugging away. "I always tell people that I'm so happy for you both. And for your two kids. I'd love to meet them someday."

There was an angry flash in Inuyasha's eyes at the mention of Axel and Mimi, and Kagome quelled it by leaning up to kiss him. Then she craned her neck to glance at Kikyou.

"Nope!" she said brightly.

Kikyou's smiling facade slipped only briefly before she recovered. "Are we really going to keep this going forever, Kagome? Mom wouldn't be happy that you're being so unforgiving. No matter what, we're still family."

Kagome grinned even wider. "Nope!"

Inuyasha pressed his lips together to keep from laughing as he pulled her closer again.

Kikyou's smile faded for real this time. "I just want a relationship with you two, whatever it might be. And with your beautiful children."

Of course you do. You want to play the doting aunt, the martyr of a failed relationship who was magnanimous enough to bury the hatchet. In full view of the paparazzi cameras, of course.

"Nope!"

"So it's like that." Kikyou apparently was going to try for the pity route now. She closed her eyes sadly, heaving a gentle sigh. "Well, I can at least give you my number, and you can call me if you ever change your mind."

Inuyasha pulled Kagome over the crook of his arm and dipped her low, leaning over her body to come face-to-face with Kikyou. The first time they'd been face-to-face since...well, Kagome couldn't remember, but it was definitely before she and Inuyasha had gotten married eight years ago.

He gave Kikyou his best, most charming smile, the smile that Kagome had witnessed firsthand sending a crowd of fangirls into shrieks and fainting spells. Kikyou's sadness faded immediately, as her public moods seemed to do all too often, and she smiled warmly back.

Can't appeal to me so you're gonna try my husband instead. Classy.

Inuyasha kept the smile going for another few seconds, and then opened his mouth to speak. Kikyou seemed to visibly hold her breath, sure that her charms were working.

"Nope." And the smile widened into a perhaps-overly-satisfied grin.

The hopeful, beaming look on Kikyou's lovely face once again was wiped away. All the friendly facade was gone, and her face pinched in anger.

"Fine. Enjoy your life with my husband, Kagome."

Inuyasha gave an exaggerated expression of confusion as he looked down at Kagome. "Um," he called after Kikyou's quickly retreating back, "I'm her husband." He touched the tip of his finger to Kagome's nose, and she burst into laughter. He followed suit, still looking bewildered.

"No, but really," he said through his laughter, looking down at her from his far greater height, "I did marry you, right? I'm not just dreaming, or high, or drunk, or - "

"You married me," Kagome said with a loving smile.

"Thank god. She just called me her fucking husband and I thought maybe all of the last eight years had been some sort of weird perfect dream."

"She wanted the movie star," Kagome said, leaning up to kiss him, "I wanted the man."

 


 

"Sango, babe, you gotta stand up, I can't hold you up much longer!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA - "

Oh god, Miroku thought, struggling to pull his wife to her feet as she doubled over in loud, obnoxious laughter, they broke her. She broke.

 


 

"I'm gonna be so sore in the morning," Kagome whispered as she gently kicked off her high heels, "How you manage to walk around in these every day will always mystify me, Sango."

"Pain is weakness leaving the body," Sango whispered back, though Kagome didn't miss the happy sigh she gave when her bare feet were planted firmly on the tile floor.

"What time is it, Inuyasha?" Kagome leaned back into her husband's chest, now once again a full head shorter than him.

He checked his Rolex. "Three am."

"Everyone's probably asleep, then. I'm sure Kanna and Kohaku are too. I guess it all went alright here?"

Inuyasha smirked as he glanced around the dimly-lit living room. "I don't see anything on fire," he said, "Small victories."

"I'm beat," Miroku mumbled, "Where are you putting us up for the night?"

"East wing, anywhere," Kagome replied. "Find a bedroom. They're all ready to go."

"Why you people need this many rooms in a house with five people in it, I'll never know."

"So we can host freeloaders like you," Inuyasha retorted, his hand reaching around Kagome's shoulder to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"Ah, that's fair." Miroku slipped an arm around Sango's waist and bent to lift her in his arms, bridal-style. She clearly wasn't ready for it and let out a squeak of surprise, fighting him off. "Ow, Sango, ow, ow, please stop, my back isn't what it used to be and you're making this harder - "

"Put me down, Houshi! What the hell are you thinking?" Sango was obviously still trying very hard to whisper.

"It's Valentine's Day. Gotta be all romantic and shit. Gotta seduce you. Are you seduced yet?"

"Oh for fuck's sake - "

"Just let me do this, please. If I put you down now it'll be like I gave up."

"...Fine."

Kagome bit her lip, fighting back even more laughter as Sango gave an embarrassed little half-wave over Miroku's shoulder, and they disappeared down the hallway.

"He knows how big our house is, right?" Kagome leaned back and whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

"He'll remember in a few seconds." Inuyasha flashed that trademark smirk of his once again. "Well, now I feel like I should carry you to our bedroom. Because it's farther. And I want to win."

Kagome snorted. "Let's do it."

He bent to lift her, but she shrugged out of his grasp and ducked around behind him, jumping onto his back and linking her arms around his shoulders.

"I know I always say this," he said with a laugh as they started down the hall toward the master bedroom, "but I'm so glad you're a shrimp of a human being."

They passed through the threshold and closed the door, and then he paused, facing their bed with her still linked around his back. Kagome was just about to try and lower herself into a standing position when suddenly, Inuyasha bent forward at the waist, using his hands to flip her over his head and onto the bedspread. "SUPLEX!"

Kagome shrieked with laughter as she landed in an unceremonious heap on the soft bed covers. "Now I know where Axel gets it! It wasn't Ayame corrupting him at all, it was his dad the whole time!"

Inuyasha smirked at her devilishly as he slid onto the bed after her, crouching over her, his lips just brushing hers. "At least I didn't throw you into a wall."

"If you did I would destroy you."

"Oh, I'm scared."

"I'm serious," she said, leaning up to give him a kiss even as she was still shaking with laughter, "I'm talking scorched earth. Not even a body to bury."

He took her face in both hands and pulled her in to deepen the kiss, and she tangled her fingers in his long silvery hair.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Kiddo," he murmured when they parted to catch their breath.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jerkface."

 


 

"Dad," Axel said at breakfast the next morning, "Did the Purry-tans really kill a lot of witches?"

The crowded breakfast table all paused mid-bite, except for Kanna, naturally, and Inuyasha nearly choked into his morning coffee.

"The who, honey?" Kagome asked, gently brushing an affectionate hand over her son's hair.

"The Purry-tans. Like in the movie."

Inuyasha gave a pointed gaze down to the other end of the table, where Kanna was on her third bowl of Froot Loops cereal and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Miroku and Sango and Kagome all exchanged wide-eyed glances.

"What movie?" Inuyasha asked, still giving Kanna the stare-down of the century.

"'The Crucible,'" Kanna replied matter-of-factly, "You said nothing scary, so I went with educational instead."

"Aren't people shown being executed in that movie?"

"Yes," Kanna said, as next to her, Kohaku looked about ready to slide under the table in mortification, "Just as they were in the historical record."

"So it really did happen?" Axel asked insistently. "It seems like an awful way to die."

"It was indeed," Kanna answered him. "A great injustice, in my opinion."

Inuyasha planted both elbows on the table and smushed his hands over his face, mumbling something that sounded like "God dammit, Kanna."

"What did you say, Dad?"

"N-Nothing. Finish your breakfast, kid."