InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Two Worlds ❯ Wading in Deep Waters ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter Two

 

Wading in Deep Waters

 

 

Morning. Already?

The sun was bright, shining glaringly against my eyes. I flinched and squirmed idly. Something soft brushed against my shoulder, my naked and unbelievably chilly shoulder. Some sound—close to whining—bubbled deep down within my throat, disturbing the usual silence that always accompanied sunrise. This morning felt oddly different than most mornings that greeted me when I woke up. I felt like a wobbly heap of broken nerves and indecisive feelings today. My head was throbbing uncontrollably, my eyes were burning and dry, and my throat was parched and tight. Yet, there was something. There was this one thing inside of me that felt almost placating, but reprimanding all together, like some maternal hand sweeping across my forehead while I was bed-ridden with sickness.

It almost felt like my mother's hand.

I sighed and made a feeble attempt to move. Something groaned underneath my shifting weight and I felt a comforting rush of relief wash over me. My bones popped and I held tightly onto the hem of my blanket, never really contemplating on the events that occurred last night. The only thing that sought refuge within my thoughts was bathing, soaking in hot bathwater teeming with sweet smelling bubbles.

Yes, I thought. My body tingled and shivered, A hot bath is just what I need. Now, where's my rubber ducky…

I swung my feet over the bed. The wooden floorboards felt like ice underneath my bare toes.

Wait! Bare toes?

I peered down the blanket only to find my toes poking out from underneath its folds, wiggling happily. A frown settled between my eyebrows, yet my hold upon the blanket had yet to waver; I've never once went to bed without wearing socks.

 

My eyes widened. Like a crack of lightening in a dark, dismal sky, realization dawned on me. The events of last night came tumbling back down on me with a vengeance, flooding into my mind like some depressing nightmare, some indescribable drama. The only bad thing about it was that it was…real.

I took a sharp intake of breath and reluctantly peered over my shoulder. I felt some unknown feeling—probably nausea—wrap around me and my heart practically sank when I'd been able to identify the naked man beside me, partially covered in an unruly heap of blankets.

Hojo.

His hair was a mess and yet his face was serene. He seemed completely oblivious towards the predicament at stake, but I could already feel the nauseating bomb inside of my stomach flounder, determined to drop. I swallowed past the mammoth lump in my throat. The feeling only grew more sickening and unbearable.

One minute passed and my feminine stamina finally slipped. The bomb wriggled against its restraints and dropped.

 

Fire in the hole!

I jumped out of bed, stark naked, and scampered across the room into the bathroom. I carelessly slammed the door shut behind me, too hurried to lock it, and hastily fumbled to lift up the toilet seat cover. Everything raging inside of me—the unspeakable stress…pain…and guilt—was unleashed in the company of the contents of my stomach. Finally, a peaceful moment of silence, of non-turbulence, surfaced around me when I felt myself coming back together piecemeal.

 

The moment was disrupted noticeably when the bathroom door creaked open behind me and my throat seized again. I stuck part of my face into the toilet and vomited roughly, comforted slightly by the strong pair of arms that wrapped around my kneeling posture from behind. I coughed and sat still for a moment, half-expecting to throw up again. But when I didn't, somebody flushed the toilet. I knew it wasn't me since I'd swaggered away from the commode just as soon as I was finished, and sat on the edge of my bathtub. My hair was a hysterical mess and I was bared without any womanlike discretion to watchful, brown eyes staring my way from where the toilet stood erected.

 

I guess since I'd lost a huge chunk of my consciousness during that queasy display, a part of me just didn't care that the brown eyes were sizing up my body like those of a lifeless doll.

"Are you…okay?" Hojo asked softly.

 

The caring lilt in his voice made me gulp roughly. "Y—yeah," I replied.

Hojo got up from the ground and strode towards me at a patiently fluid gait. He took a seat right beside me, but I tried my best not to notice. Wearily, I looked down at Hojo's green, plaid boxers, suddenly wishing I hadn't because my gaze veered to land on his crotch. He was semi-erect and I couldn't hold back the slight wave of nausea trying to resurface and impart from the very pit of my perturbed belly.

I sighed and turned the other cheek, just barely taming the wildfire raging beneath my cheeks.

The bathroom was very spacious, so space was easy to come by. The Whirlpool jet tub that we were sitting on held enough room for me to inch slightly away from Hojo's partially nude legs. I didn't feel like making any kind of contact at the moment and he must've actually understood since he didn't move at all when I did. All he did was look at me.

"Are you sure?" he asked suddenly.

I nodded, somewhat meekly, and began to rub my left arm anxiously with my right hand. "Yeah," I spoke softly, carefully, "I'm sure."

Hojo bowed his head and everything was plunged in distressful silence, save the noises coming from the recently flushed toilet.

 

I was the first one to get up and make my way back into the bedroom. Hojo came out several minutes later and by then I was foraging through the drawers of my dresser for some…cover up.

He looked at me for a moment before brushing past me to search for his own clothes. A quiet hiccup got trapped in my throat when my skin grazed his own heated flesh, yet I willed myself not to care, not to feel, not to think. I was only concerned with finding a decent pair of clothes and lingerie, probably even a way to put this whole thing behind me and move on with my life.

Darn. Now that was expecting far too much.

It may've taken a few minutes, but I was able to find a cotton sports bra and a pair of baggy sweatpants that used to belong to Souta. I borrowed them constantly when I finally got into sports during my later college years in order to so-call "pacify my anger".

 

I started visiting a chiropractor two years after I stopped time traveling to the Sengoku Jidai. Stress caused my back and shoulders to cramp frequently. The doctor said that my stress was fueled by uncontrollable "anger convulsions,” something that required a "sturdy impact" so that its vigor could become less defiant.

I bit my bottom lip gently as I reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a fresh pair of panties. The action only brought on a devastating surge of memory to shudder through my mind, but I quickly drove it out and sighed.

The rustling of clothes calmed me, if only a little bit. Hojo was somewhere nearby the bed and I could hear him, inhumanely loud and clear, as he tried to change back into his clothes. I, on the other hand, hadn't even gotten the chance to start. I was still left naked and flabbergasted, my mind roiling painfully. What I needed was an Advil, but I really didn't feel like walking back to the bathroom.

 

I peered over my shoulder, left too far beyond words. Quietly, I shoved in the drawer that I was currently ransacking, and turned around with the clothes that I'd grabbed, in my arms. Hojo was almost done dressing, yet he was missing his black shirt. Anything below the waistline was left undecided, yet I could see a glimpse of his jeans. They seemed wrinkled by the looks of it and I couldn't muster enough willpower to ask if he wanted me to iron them for him.

Suddenly, he looked my way, horse-black hair still tousled and wild. I blushed slightly and gulped before hurrying off to gather up my things from the floor and tossing them all on the bed. When I'd finished, I returned his tender gaze with a nameless one of my own.

"Did you…happen to…lose anything?" I asked.

A weak smile lit his lips. "Y—yeah," he answered, "My shirt and one of my socks."

I looked down dumbly, and then blushed furiously. There, before my bare feet, was a dark, preferably small package lying on the ground.

One of my condoms, I thought. Hastily, I stooped down and picked the package up with a dark grimace. I hurled it into the wicker wastebasket neighboring my work desk and silently began to put my clothes on. Hojo watched me with a slightly disturbed expression on his face. I ignored him and continued on changing. Seconds later, he resumed the task of looking for his sock and shirt.

Once again, silence engulfed us, yet outside noises were determined to shatter it. The shrilly chirrups of birds were beginning to get on my nerves and some minutes later I figured out that it wasn't exactly morning time, but 3 hours and 20 minutes into the evening. I missed work. Now I needed to call Arisu in high hopes that nobody noticed my absence. If not, then I could only assume that my boss would give me a second chance due to spontaneous sex urges.

Hojo and I were fully dressed by 3:32. I escorted him to the door and there was some strange feeling inside of me that rubbed me in all the wrong ways, that told me that goodbyes definitely weren't in order. However, he sprung a surprise one on me that practically startled me to death and had me in a grueling struggle for words. Somehow though, I got through it, “Goodbye, H—Hojo. It was nice seeing you again, too.”

 

Soon, I realized that that was a big mistake on my part. Something within Hojo, which was undoubtedly triggered by either my body language or kind reply, must've tipped him off a bogus suggestion because after he said goodbye he anxiously rubbed the back of his neck and leaned in for a kiss.

 

Slightly taken off guard, I lifted up two fingers and covered his damp lips.

"Hojo…" I whispered, a faint warning in my voice.

He looked at me like an innocent child teetering on the verge of crying. Dear God, I hoped he didn't…

Surprisingly,—or unsurprisingly so—he didn't and he leaned back. My fingers left his lips and that gave me a chance to explain a few things, to probably even dig a thick boundary into that treacherous sand of friendship and lovers that we'd both managed to stumble into. Still though, I felt lost, alone in the dark. I was like a small toddler in the Sahara. Too lost to really find any hope at all in discovering that certain beacon of light.

"Hojo, I just want you to know that…that—" It was hard. I couldn't spit the words out because I kept on putting myself in his shoes. What if I were to hear a crude remark like the one I was preparing to say?

I'd…I'd cry, that's what!

 

But I'm a woman. I'm supposed to cry because of the flimsy barricade that separates my emotions and thoughts from the outside world. Duh.

"Umm…Ka—gome?"

Jerkily, I shook my head and sighed. Hojo was staring at me again with eyes glazed over in worry. I inhaled slowly before permitting the words that I needed to say to come tumbling rapidly from my mouth, "Hojo, tonight was just a fling. I miss my boyfriend and the love that I feel for him has somehow caused me to end up in bed with you. There's not an ounce of love in my heart for you and I hope you can understand that. I hope that we will be able to put all of this behind us and…well…goodbye!" I tried to slam the door shut. Hojo caught it and shoved it back open. I never did think of him as the type to be that daring to disobey a woman's wishes, but there's always a first for everything. I was stunned as usual when he spoke.

"Kagome, please allow for me to escort you to a party tomorrow tonight. I'd love to see you again."

So it was true. He was still unbelievably dense. He hadn't heard a single word I said. That, or he purposefully decided not to hear them.

"Hojo, please understand." I said with partially disguised frustration. I just wanted him to leave, to forget all about last night. I didn't want to rupture his heart into tiny pieces for I already knew what such a feeling felt like, what type of impact that feeling could have on a person.

 

It would take several years, several years for his heart to mend, and I didn't know if he could use such pain as a lesson to learn from like I had. After all, I'd been dumped once. As for him…well…I didn't quite know how many times he'd been dumped. I didn't even know how many women he'd been involved with.

”Kagome, I know last night was meant to be…” Hojo murmured dreamily.

 

“N—No it wasn't, Hojo,” I spoke hastily.

 

"Please, Kagome," he murmured. He made a quick grab for my hand. I shrieked, “Hojo, please!” and unintentionally slapped him across the cheek. I gasped sharply and swallowed when I succeeded in stomaching the images before me—the sunlight gazing blindingly down on Hojo's face, revealing the bright red handprint imprinted over his cheek. And my palm aching, burning a light crimson.

Oh God no.

"Hojo…" I took one step forward. He took one step back. He fondled the mark on his cheek, completely abashed.

I looked at him, hoping he'd say something, anything. Thankfully he did, but as for the constantly anticipated waterworks…

There were none.

 

“W—wow,” he said, his voice so quiet that I almost couldn't hear him.

Wordlessly, he stroked the blazing scar on his cheek and lowered his hand to stare at it bewilderedly. My mouth was wide now and I could only hope that I hadn't fractured anything delicate. Though it wouldn't have been that surprising if I had.

 

I'd never slapped anyone, excluding Kouga. I never really felt enough rage to just hit someone every single day. Probably I was finally going under those side-effects that my chiropractor said would happen if I decided to start taking the pills that he subscribed for my cramps. However, the likelihood of that were one out of a million. Firstly, I stopped taking the pills around three months ago. And secondly, I was pretty sure that I didn't have to visit a shrink before I could take the pills in the first place.

Hojo finally looked up, his eyes doused in sorrow.

"Hojo, I'm so sorry," I apologized slowly.

The hand that he was so closely examining furled into a tight fist and his entire arm grew limp. He looked down at the concrete beneath his feet before murmuring something lowly underneath his breath, “Don't forget about the party okay, Higurashi.”

 

I heard him, but I didn't have the heart to give a reply. So with a quick whisper of farewell, Hojo left without me getting a single word in edgewise. I wanted to cry out a generous goodbye, but my throat constricted and I was left completely speechless.

 

Darn it, Kag. How could you possibly get any stupider?

During the entire day, my mind was continually revolving around Hojo and what I had done to him. I managed to call Arisu and thankfully Hiroshi was there to cover for me that day. Unfortunately, my name was jotted down in the boss' day planner for an afternoon conference in his office, so I really needed to get my story straight before tomorrow rolled around.

As for the apology that I vowed myself to give to Hojo over the phone…I never was quite able to get around to that. I wasn't even sure anymore if his escort offer was still up for grabs, but there was a one-fifty chance that it still might've been.

 

ii. Thoughts

 

After yesterday, things were hardly the same between Hojo and me. He never did call me again and I never was able to pick up the only portable phone that I owned ever again. Because of it, I was able to accept Hojo's humble overture to go out and to so-called get “reacquainted” with him, which started this whole emotional mess in the first place. So I bought another phone, one with buttons installed in the base and a cord connected to the receiver. Lucky me, ne?

In order to celebrate the purchase of my new phone, I managed to collect the phone numbers of my dearest friends and jot them down in a journal that I kept ever since the start of college for hard times. Grandpa thought that the little book was the weed of a dangerous omen, but that only told me that he wasn't quite ready for me to leave the nest. He wanted me to remain the same little girl that always hopped into his lap, eager for a good, mythical story.

Sadly, that little girl had to grow up. That little girl became a woman who's been dragged in and out of the Sengoku Jidai, found new friends, survived treacherous escapades with an arrogant hanyou, and most of all found love. Too bad that that love occurred at the wrong time and in the wrong place. It just wasn't meant to be, and I was unable to disagree with those wretched results. I was rejected of love from a hanyou who I was relatively sure would love me back. To my surprise, he didn't. Or I thought he didn't. I still wasn't quite sure.

Phones were ringing.

I was sitting behind the cherry-wood desk in my personal office, swivel chair turned so that I could look out of the frighteningly vast window behind me. It was the only window in my office and it didn't have any draw curtains, so I couldn't block out the sunlight, which never bothered me up until now. Today was just one of those days when devastating migraines struck out of nowhere to start drilling a hole in my head. On days such as these, I began to wish for draw curtains and I began to pray for relief.

 

Though my head was throbbing immensely and something behind my eyes ached terribly, my getting out of my seat wasn't a big argumentative debate at the time. The incorporation was twelve stories tall. Every time I got up while looking out of the window, nightmarish images of me stumbling through the glass would flash through my mind. Thoughts like those scared me greatly and my legs were rendered helpless, incapable of going against my mind's wishes. When my mind said that I couldn't move, I couldn't move. Period.

"Hey, Kagome."

I wheeled the chair around slowly to face the gaping entrance of my office. Arisu was there, bleached blonde hair glistening brightly in the sunlight teeming in from the window. She was wearing a dark, two-piece suit that I immediately presumed came from Bebe's. She was never the type to shop cheap, and she refused to wear an outfit twice on the same week. I got to know her pretty well the first day I came here. After all, she was the first person who decided to walk up to me and ask me what my name was.

"Hey, Arisu," I greeted.

"So, are you going to the surprise bash?" she asked.

I was silent and gravely bowed my head. How could I have forgotten about such a thing? For the past month, it was the only thing that every single Symphonia Inc. employee gossiped about. But, I didn't feel like going. My heart just wouldn't be in it and when my heart's not in it, I'm a real party pooper. Plus, the party was supposed to be for all those who had invitations. There was no invitation in my mailbox today or the day before that, so why show up?

"Why would I want to go to some childish surprise bash anyway?" I mumbled, and then frowned, “Shoot, I didn't even receive an invitation to the thing.”

"Because it's for a young billionaire," she pressed, "Probably…"

"Arisu, no," I groaned. Nonetheless, she still continued.

"And I heard he was about your age,” laughter flooded her eyes in a glaze of warmth, “Probably he'll be the love of your life, that one fairy-tale man you told me you were searching for." She smiled. I frowned, but this one was reasonably pensive. She didn't have a single clue about what I meant by "fairy-tale" man. The hint was prominent within itself and if she were Sango, Miroku, or even Shippo, she would've understood that I plainly meant Inuyasha. I wasn't looking for a billionaire to excite me. I was looking for a certain demon with furry, white dog-ears to tease me with only the tender strokes of his skillful fingers.

I wonder if there's a 12-step plan for this, I thought nostalgically.

"Look, why don't you think about it," Arisu suddenly spoke, instantly breaking me away from my straying thoughts, "I'll make sure to have them sign your name under mine as my visitor."

"W—wait! Arisu!"

It was too late. The unexpected deed was done and Arisu's wave of farewell had clearly exercised that fact. She left the office and shut the door quickly behind her, leaving me alone with only my thoughts to slowly overwhelm me.

 

I vaguely remembered a couple of minutes later that Hojo had mentioned bringing me to a party just before I ran him off. Though, I was still pretty unconvinced that he would even take me.

To go or not to go…

"That…is the question," I murmured to myself.

 

iii. Party Time

 

Anger?

No.

Insecurity?

Not really.

Neutrality constipation?

Bingo!

I sighed heavily as I surveyed myself in the mirror mounted on the closet door in my bedroom. It was already 9:30 PM and the so-called "surprise bash" was about to commence roughly thirty minutes from now. I didn't want to go, but the tight, silken black dress that I wore protested otherwise. It cost close to $70 when it caught the corner of my eye at a small dress store in the mall. $70 was what tempted me to go and created some unusual flame of determination to kindle within my chest.

To me though, the dress was still beautiful. The jabot cascaded downwards in a small, baggy heap of creases along my chest, revealing some cleavage, which troubled me a little bit, however, the dress's curving was right on the mark. The only bad thing about it was that it had straps. I didn't hate them per se, but I wasn't quite fond of them either. I was one of those long-short-sleeved enthusiasts so straps were the enemy and not really the allies.

I smiled gently and looked down. The Stiletto heels that I wore felt painful and cramped, but I couldn't take them off. Unfortunately, they were the only shoes I owned that matched perfectly with my dress. Woe is me I guess.

Habitually, I tapped my foot against the floor just for good measure. As I suspected it would, the heel thrust firmly against my foot, which was painful as hell, so I stopped. I blew out a weighty sigh before turning around to grab my things off the bed.

Tap. Tap.

I wondered if Hojo was coming to pick me up, but my confidence of that ever happening seemed dim and uncertain. I slapped him. I greatly doubted a man would come back to a woman that hit him just for grabbing her hand.

Tap. Tap.

Inuyasha probably would've come back, but he carried grudges for far too long. He would've just sulked and wasted the entire night away grumbling about me, undoubtedly calling me every single foul-mouthed name in the book. His favorite would've probably been "ungrateful wench.”

Yeah. That hit the nail right on the head. It may've bent it a little bit, but it hit the nail nonetheless.

Tap. Tap.

Quietly, I picked up my purse and leather coat and then shuffled out of the bedroom, turning the lights off behind me. On my way out, I discovered that the hallway felt unusually empty. Probably because I didn't have a chance to buy any pictures or decoration. Or partly because I felt cold and empty myself.

 

There was just something inside of me that gnawed at my innards, punishing me for some misdeed that I inadvertently associated myself with. Though I knew what that misdeed was, I didn't want to bring it up again, not if it meant having to deal with this pain in my gut. I knew having a perfectly good time at the party would be asking for too much, but having to endure regret around those that didn't understand what you were feeling was something I was willing to avoid. I couldn't bear seeing those happy, confused faces staring at me all weird, steadily making me uncomfortable and queasy.

Nope, I was willing to steer away from all that.

Wearily, I opened the front door and stepped outside, nearly shivering. I didn't know tonight would be so chilly. It strangely suited the constricting feeling swirling around within my stomach. Though "chilly" was quite the understatement since it wasn't the only thing I was currently feeling.

I wrenched the door closed and locked it with my house key. Pulling my purse over my shoulder, I unzipped it, stuffed the key inside, and zipped it shut. Afterwards, I pulled on my jacket and started down the small, concrete stairway that stretched down to my driveway. My 2002 silver Cavalier awaited me at the bottom, but as I circled around to unlock the driver's door, a pair of shiny headlights suddenly lit up the dim driveway. An engine roared through the silence, a familiar roar I might add, and I turned around slowly with a dazed look on my face. I gasped sharply at what I saw.

Hojo's blood red Viper pulled up into the drive. He was gazing at me from the driver's seat, through the front windowpane. I felt myself stiffen, unable to move. From the looks of it, he was wearing the usual black and white tux and his hair was as unruly and neat at the same time as ever.

I smiled.

Silently, he got out of the car and rounded to open the front passenger's door for me. He placed one hand over his chest and bowed, left arm extending, plainly gesturing towards the unoccupied seat.

"I believe your carriage awaits you, young miss," he joked.

I blushed and wetted my lips before walking towards the car, immediately stopping in front of Hojo. He straightened and smiled, eyes tender and soft.

"Thank you," I murmured. I didn't know for what, but at the moment I could've said anything endearing and redundant.

"You're welcome," he replied in a rich, breathy voice that caused another smile to curl at my lips. Suddenly, he began to lean in, both steadily and calmly, head declining ever so slowly. I bit my bottom lip then released it. His lips caressed mine and this time, I allowed him to kiss me and, even more, I allowed myself to breathe in the spicy scent that was his cologne and exhaled a soft sigh. There were no protests, no unwanted touching. It was just a brief, chaste kiss that felt pleasurable and reacquainting, something that felt almost friendly and passionate at the same time. And when he pulled back I giggled softly and slipped into the car seat. He closed the door and walked around to his side. Believe it or not, when we pulled out of the driveway, I was still smiling and I had an eerie feeling that he was, too.

 

iv. Fairy-Tale Man

 

The party was magnificent, probably even perfect. It was held in a vast manor that undoubtedly belonged to the special billionaire. That, or his parents. I still wasn't keen on the idea of going since I still had reason to believe that the "special guest" was some spoiled teenager and his parents basically overlooked the entire party.

After Hojo pulled the car aside in front of several lengthy pair of staircases that headed up towards the wide stretching veranda, a valet was there to greet us. Hojo handed him the keys and slipped him, what looked like out of the corner of my eye, a $50 bill. I opened my mouth to say something, but, before I knew it, his large, calloused hand was escorting me up the stairs. It gripped mine confidently, yet still hesitantly. I was shocked to say the least and my grip strengthened a little bit when we walked into the large manor.

The mammoth-sized dance floor, or as I was led to believe, the Foyer, was bustling with activity. A sea of women and men formed, what looked like, an animated checkerboard underneath all the expensive chandeliers with their black and white tuxedos and dresses. The room was beautifully lit and the marble flooring glistened primly, almost as if it was brand new, untouched by all the feet maneuvering across it.

 

Concrete pillars, decorated with irregular designs that resembled flowers, jutted out of the flooring ubiquitously. I looked on in absentminded wonder and I may've even been drooling when Hojo stopped and gazed at me with mirthful eyes. Surprisingly, I wasn't, but that didn't keep me from feeling like I was.

What am I doing here? I kept on asking myself every time Hojo gazed at me with those warm, chocolate-brown eyes of his. The question ricocheted off of the walls of my mind and echoed, repeating profoundly. Somehow, Hojo hadn't perceived the shift of expressions morphing across my face, but I could sense it perfectly. It was pretty difficult for me to think and keep a straight, steady face at the same time. That kind of talent not even Miroku could master.

Hours passed.

Hojo and I danced several times. After our last dance we departed from the table hunkered on the main floor and snuck upstairs towards a balcony connected to one of the bedroom suits. I was reluctant at first to leave the comfort the crowd, yet the feeling soon faded. Hojo walked slowly, him and me hand in hand as we marched upstairs. He probably didn't notice, but he earned some major brownie points for that courteous stunt.

The balcony was beautiful, the scenery even more wondrous and stunning. We were overlooking the hazy, but incandescent lights that speckled all of Tokyo, creating a cerulean boundary between it and the inky darkness swirling around up above.

 

Outside on the balcony, there was a small, iron table set outside, made solely for two. Strangely, it made me think of "Tea for Two,” but I kept that little thought to myself.

There was only the ominous glow of the moon and stars as we sat down. An awkward silence settled between us, but I wasn't all that enthusiastic to break it.

Turning my head to the side so that I could face the city, I snuck a quiet peek of Hojo out of the corner of my eye. His face was turned the opposite way, fingers laced on top of the table. My fingers rapped against my lap agitatedly and I bit my lower lip softly, eyes never leaving his innocent face.

Why am I here? I don't even love him, let alone like him for heaven sakes. But now I find myself going out with him, acting as if we're a couple. This is the second time this week I've gone out with him. If I turned him down every single time he's asked me out in high school, why can't I do it now? What's wrong with me?

"What am I doing here?" I murmured distractedly.

Hojo's eyes veered suddenly and rested on me.

I bowed my head solemnly, "I—I don't even like you for heaven sakes!" I didn't understand why, but those same exact words felt almost erroneous in some way. In my head, they sounded precise, but out in the open I guess things can change, even if it means turning from right to wrong.

"Really?"

Through the mesh of bangs covering my face, I gazed at him with a slight hint of disorientation crinkling my face.

"Is that really true?" he asked, "I mean…we've known each other for so long, far longer than you knew that boyfriend of yours."

I didn't fully understand how he knew just how long I knew Inuyasha and frowned slightly. "Where, exactly, are you getting at, Hojo?" I asked, a faint trace of anger in my voice.

"I—I really don't know," he replied and twisted his head the other way, avoiding my steely gaze.

A few minutes passed and my eyes softened gradually. I cupped his hands with my smaller one, yet the tidal wave of anger and confusion raging within me just barely receded. I tried my best to make it look like I was fine when really I wasn't.

"Hojo," I started slowly, "Inuyash—I mean—my boyfriend really wouldn't have liked seeing us together. That must be the reason why I'm with you right now, just to get even with him."

"How do you know he's here anyway?" His eyes settled on mine impartially. His expression seemed pained.

Suddenly, I felt myself rip in two as I gulped hard and flushed. "Actually, I don't know. At most times we have this boyfriend-girlfriend connection going on and I can just tell when he's somewhere or if he's in trouble," I answered.

A contemplative sound rumbled deep down within Hojo's throat. I looked on meekly and he bowed his head, an unpleasant expression marring his flawless complexion. Though a light, rugged moustache lingered above his upper lip, I was still determined to call his skin flawless. It made me feel like I was still in high school, sulking about Inuyasha and what wrongdoings he's committed, and out with Hojo because he was the only friend I thought I could talk to. Too bad we weren't being buddy-buddy at the moment.

"Did you love him?" Hojo asked.

I didn't answer. Instead, I turned the other cheek and inhaled slowly, breathing in the calming, but chilly night air.

"Do you think you can love me?" he spoke again.

I coughed and blushed. I heard the telltale screech of his chair as he moved out of it and walked to my side. He outstretched a questioning hand to me and immediately I heard his question with crystal-clean clarity. Though it wasn't put in simple words, it was translated through an even simpler action.

Music. The classical music sounding downstairs had drifted, wandered upstairs and down the hallway past the open balcony doors.

I returned Hojo's smile with one of my own and put my hand in his. He gripped it softly and pulled me up to my feet. We did a simple two-step, my head resting on his shoulder, spooned under his strong chin. A mysterious blanket of warmth enveloped us, but I hardly paid any attention to the change in weather or body temperature. I was only concentrating on the consoling hammering of his heart and the flood of pleasurable warmth radiating between our clasped hands and interlaced fingers.

Somehow, tonight felt magical to me, and every time I looked into Hojo's eyes I couldn't help but think the same went for him. Hojo might've not been Inuyasha, but it was a…nice change nonetheless.

 

A nice change nonetheless, ne? What do you have to say to that, Inuyasha?

Someone cleared his or her throat loudly from the doorway. I blinked, still dazed and drunk from the hidden nirvana stowed away inside my mind, to find a middle-aged man standing there. He must've been a bodyguard or security officer according to the professional, disciplined trim of his black and white outfitting, but I kept myself from making any assumptions. Though, it was hard to stop deducing when I could spot the thin, black wire that traveled down from the guy's ear and disappeared into the collar of his jacket.

"Umm, excuse me," he started in a deep, authorative voice, "Mr. Tsukinaka is needed downstairs."

Hojo looked at the guy in the doorway and then looked back down to give me a regretful look. I smiled and backed away from him a tad to pat him jokingly on the shoulder, "It's okay. Go ahead."

He still appeared a bit unsure, but with a quick peck on the cheek, he was off. I stole a momentary glimpse of the city lights behind me before sighing and walking into the bedroom, closing the balcony doors behind me. Sluggishly, I strolled out of the bedroom and made my way back downstairs with nothing but my cumbersome and rhetorical questions to accompany me. I spotted Arisu with her date at a nearby table and decided to sit with them, just so I could keep from being lonely.

Several minutes later, the music stopped and the dancers froze. Arisu and I had started a conversation about the difference between poor and rich, but still handsome, men. I ceased in mid-sentence and immediately my eyes landed on the master staircase. Hojo was standing on the first stair. This time there was a different middle-aged man accompanying him.

I looked on bewilderingly.

The middle-aged man cleared his throat loudly as someone out of the audience handed him a wireless mike. Strangely, the man possessed some vague traces of resemblance to Hojo, but there was a chance that it could've been a coincidence…right?

"Ladies and gentleman," the man started in a rumbling voice, "tonight I started this party as a way to celebrate my one and only son's 26th birthday. At every party that I've decided to commence, I always pull someone forward to give the customary toast," he paused and both he and Hojo exchanged peculiar father-son looks, "Tonight, the person doing so is my son. Please give him a round of applause."

Quickly, he handed the mike to Hojo and stepped down to fade away into the audience. The people clapped and I found myself clapping along with them, eyes both spellbound and eager. I didn't know Hojo was the son of a billionaire, but you didn't see me complaining.

Awkwardly, he tapped the head of the mike and the speakers gave a fleeting, bloodcurdling shriek. "Uh, hello to all those who have managed to come," he spoke, "Four days ago, I'd lost all hope of coming here with that special someone that my parents wanted for me. To my surprise, a woman that I'd met years ago in high school…rediscovered that hope. Though the love between us was never really among us then, I kept waiting for it to appear. I'd like to say that it has tonight, but really it hasn't."

I heard a few people cough. Suddenly, I felt a rush of guilt pour over me like a pitcher of hot, steaming water. I listened intently to Hojo's speech, gnawing worriedly at my bottom lip as he spoke.

"Someday I hope for that love to blossom into something even larger, but for now, I'm just enjoying the fact that she's with me tonight and that I'm able to stand by her side.”

Some people seemed quite impressed with his speech as a few sounds of adoration hovered above the still audience. I smiled a girlish smile and bowed my head in order to hide the fiery blush creeping to my cheeks. The pressure of the blush steadily began to build and it almost felt searing.

"Though I've gone through so many trials and tribulations to become the man that I am today, one thing is evident and that is the love that I feel for this special woman that's suddenly reentered my life. And before I ramble on, let us please toast to the many triumphant battles that every one of us has witnessed in order to get this far."

I didn't have a champagne glass so I continued on looking at Hojo. For those that did, their glasses chimed like a melodic wraith in the vast room, which sounded peaceful and absolutely beautiful to my ears.

"Cheers!" And with that, the audience cheered loudly in unison with the heavenly ruckus of glass bumping into glass filling the room non-too loudly and non-too softly.

For once in my natural-born life, I felt like I was in heaven and I didn't need to visit the Sengoku Jidai to treasure that feeling. I felt rather appreciative of myself for even being able to accomplish such a thing.

Probably Arisu was right. I needed a true, billionaire beefcake in my life. Deep down though, I knew she wasn't entirely right. She was the one who said that rich men were better than poor men because they owned a lot of money and enough luxuries to essentially please any woman. To me, there was no difference between the two. Either way, they both had flesh, five fingers and toes, two eyes, and one nose. The only thing different about them was that they satisfied their women in diverse ways. Altogether, they seemed so different, yet so alike.

"Inuyasha…" I murmured to myself.

 

v. Letter

 

When Hojo pulled up into my driveway to drop me off, a goodnight kiss seemed clearly anticipated, yet I decided on a gracious hug instead. He accepted it and there was no excessive arguing, no sneaky pecks on the cheek, or sly caresses. All in all, the hug was fairly pleasant and served as a satisfactory end to such an unforgettable night.

After our reasonably long cuddle session, Hojo and I both said goodnight and I got out of the car. He didn't pull out of the drive until I entered the condo. I was halfway down the Foyer when I heard his engine roar down the street. With a goofy smile on my face, a type of smile that would've told anyone that I held a hidden secret that stubbornly refused to past my lips, I marched slowly up the stairs.

The whole condo was dark, save the light emanating from my bedroom. I didn't feel like turning on the hall lights or anything else for that matter. I clicked calmly into the bedroom and pulled my purse off of my shoulder to toss it blindly onto the bed.

 

Wait! Did I actually leave my lights on before I left? I pondered, and then frowned.

 

Nonchalantly, I chucked my jacket aside and wasn't fully aware of the unmarked envelope sitting on my bed until I sat down in my desk chair. I cocked my head confusedly and picked it up, observing it closely before opening it. Folded neatly inside was a handwritten letter.

 

The letter wasn't all that neat. There were black, ink blotches randomly speckling the elaborate, beige-tinted parchment as if the person who had written it had did so by candlelight.

Carelessly, I tossed the empty envelope aside and read it silently.

Dear Kagome,

 

I miss you.

I went back to the old shrine and the scents that I'd thought I long since then remembered were gone. It may've taken me days, probably even months to track you down, but I can't believe I did. You smell just as beautiful as before.

Please, Kagome…

 

Come back to me.

 

In Japanese calligraphy, the letter ended in a simple, tri-character word.

—Inuyasha

 

 

The letter slipped away from my quivering fingertips and slowly glided to the ground, hissing along the wood until there was nothing but silence. Something whispered—the wind maybe—and blew in my ear like a teenage lover. My thoughts seem to stray away from that one feeling as I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, eyes staring listlessly into nothing.

 

Is this…really…Inuyasha? I thought.

 

I clenched the soft, cottony material of my comforter and tugged, trying my best to hold my erratic emotions at bay.

 

This…this has to be a joke or something, I pondered, yet my doubts only thickened with that one insinuation, No…it's not. But—But this can't be…real. This—this has to be a dream.   

 

A hot tear trailed slowly down my cheek.

 

“No,” I mumbled. My throat felt tight and sore, “This is real…all of it…all of this is real.”  

 

The burning welling inside my eyes was slowly chased away by the cold wind pelting against my face. Absentmindedly, I turned my head to face the billowing curtains covering the open window alongside my bed.

Oh, Inuyasha…