InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Driven to Ascent ❯ Chapter 3: Interrogation ( Chapter 5 )

A/n: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't update for at least five months this time! Sorry! I promise you, I didn't intend to go for so long without updating. Things happened, evil things. Like testing, and homework, and school. That's pretty much always my excuse, isn't it?

 

One thing, I made a bad mistake. In Japan, the age of adulthood is not 18 but 20, which makes that aspect of this fic inaccurate. Oops? Well, it's my own fault. I should have checked it first. However, I am not going to change Miroku's age for two reasons. One, I don't have the time, effort, nor patience to go back and find each and every place I mentioned Miroku's age. Two, that would screw up some of my planning, because I did plan this fic out with the character's ages in mind.

 

That said, here's the chapter:

 

 

Chapter Three: Interrogation

.

Miroku

.

And why did I bring Kagome along to meet individuals affiliated with the Triads?

 

I acknowledge that, looking at the situation over all, it was indeed a very dangerous move to bring my sister along. As I left my sister and entered my bedroom, I wondered if I had done something I could possibly regret.

 

But Sango hadn't stopped me. She had raised some concerns when I suggested taking Kagome along, but after I offered solutions to those concerns, she merely nodded her approval. Surely that was an indication that I had not been making a mistake?

 

I closed my eyes; but in the morning, I found that my sister's furious reaction still rested on my mind. It was strange. I can go through tantrums and lawsuits from my ex-girlfriends and wake up perfectly content the next morning, but damn if I let my little sister think even only a little negatively of me.

 

Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and trudged out of bed and into the hallway. I paused for a moment and glanced to my left towards Kagome's bedroom. After a moment of hesitation, I silently walked to her bedroom door and pushed it opened, just enough for me to peek in. And there she was, curled up snuggly in her sheets.

 

Not for the first time I wondered how Papa and Mama had felt whenever they saw one of their children sleeping. Had my parents attempted to picture what we dreamed of, tried to pierce the surface of the sleeping of our minds? Had they imagined that in this stretched moment of time they watched, their children were not humans but angels traveling just a little closer to heaven with every minute? Would they think it crazy to decide right there and then that their children were, in fact, the most beautiful beings in the world?

 

And then I remembered, yet again, that they certainly had not gotten many chances to watch me sleep as a child, since my work usually took me away from home. Certainly I hadn't minded back then, but as I observed Kagome, the thought struck me as disconcerting. Just imagining seeing Kagome's bed empty sent a shiver along my spine. How had they felt to see an empty bed in their eldest son's room for long stretches of time?

 

It's amazing how one's perspective changes when one becomes a legal guardian.

 

I closed the door with a soft click and leaned back onto the door frame, brushing a hand through my uncombed, disheveled hair as I tried to control the overwhelming rush of emotions. Kagome was growing up, and little moments like these offered me the only assurance that she was indeed still Kagome, my sister. Moments like these had to be cherished.

 

As I sat in the kitchen ten minutes later, drinking coffee and fingering a piece of toast, I realized that it was only during the past several years that I've begun to understand the extent of the role of an elder brother. If just being a brother is like this, than I fear to ponder what parenthood entails. Or, perhaps I've simply confused the actions of parenthood for brotherhood to a degree that I can no longer see the line between them.

 

My mind wandered back to the matter at hand. If including Kagome in my meeting with Gao Inuyasha had really been so dangerous, wouldn't I know? Hadn't I developed enough parental instincts to judge what was safe and unsafe for my charge?

 

I added more sugar to my coffee and decided, with a self-satisfied nod and little snicker at myself, that I disliked questions immensely. After all, if it-

 

Footsteps padded down the staircase and slapped onto the tiles of the kitchen threshold. Without turning to look, I only had to listen to the unevenness and scattered nature of the footsteps to determine who had just walked in. Placidly, I sipped my bitter drink as Kagome stopped moving, and suddenly I felt the tingling of a stare directed at me. I took another sip. A moment passed and Kagome continued on into the kitchen.

 

“Ohayo,” I greeted with a smile as Kagome passed me on the way to the cabinet.

 

My sister only muttered a low “hi” in reply and did not look at me. I crooked a smile to myself in amusement. Even in anger, Kagome still kept up her manners.

 

As Kagome walked to the bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter and grabbed a banana, I sighed. Obviously she was trying to spend as little time as possible in the same room as me if she was only going to eat fruit for breakfast, and no doubt in her bedroom. This wouldn't do.

 

“Don't leave yet,” I said as she turned to the kitchen door. “We have things to talk about.”

 

“Not now,” Kagome snapped as she began walking.

 

“Yes, now,” I called back without thinking and cringed at my ineloquence. I stared up at the ceiling and tried to remember how my parents had dealt with me when I was a sulky teenager. I took a slow breath to collect my nerves and tried again.

 

“Kagome,” I said wearily. “Sit down, please? And talk to me for a bit?”

 

She paused in her steps, back facing me. The sounds of an irritated groan and foot stomp reached my ears. Finally, Kagome turned around and plopped down onto a chair I pulled out beside me, sitting with her legs crossed.

 

“What?” my sister asked testily.

 

As I adjusted my sitting position to face her, a messy lock of hair flopped onto my face. I brushed it away impatiently and tried to smile warmly at Kagome.

 

“I know you're mad at me about last night, and I'm sorry about that,” I began. “I guess I should have told you about the Triads' involvement before we went--”

 

“Then why didn't you tell me, then?” Kagome cut in. “Did you think about it at all?”

 

I gazed at her serenely and reminded myself that Kagome had her reasons for acting immaturely if she so desired. “I told you, I had my reasons.”

 

“Are you going to tell me them or not?!”

 

I smiled in the face of her fury and patted the hands she fisted on her knees. “That's one of the things I want to talk about, among other things,” I informed her calmly. I wasn't quite sure what the “other things” were as of yet, but I figured they'd come to me when we were done discussing the first item on the list.

 

Kagome gave a little “humph!” and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms protectively around them, dislodging my hands in the process.

 

She hadn't turned her head away from me, which I took as a good sign. I pressed on.

 

“First…” I notched my head to the side. “Tell me exactly why you're upset about last night.”

 

Kagome bristled. “You're just trying to piss me off, aren't you? You already know why so stop wasting my time!”

 

“On the contrary, I don't,” I commented, mildly amused that she would think so lowly of me. “The impression I got from last night is that you are angry with me and Sango for not telling you that Gao Inuyasha's involved with the Triads.” I raised an eyebrow for confirmation. Kagome tilted her head down. I took it as a nod and continued. “That's understandable of course, and a mistake on my part. But other than that, I am perfectly mystified about your anger, and I get the feeling that there's more to it than that.”

 

She glowered at me. “You're so clueless.”

 

“I'm just a brother, not a mind reader,” I replied. “I'm not trying to trick you, Kagome. I really have very little idea of what you're upset about.”

 

Actually I was lying, only a little. I knew Kagome and I could very well guess the reasons behind her outburst last night, but this conversation would go more smoothly if she told me herself.

 

I nodded and smiled encouragingly.

 

Kagome sighed and looked up at the ceiling in what looked like exasperation. I waited patiently.

 

“…You didn't tell me that Gao-san was with the Triads, and Naraku Onigumo at that,” my sister said.

 

I nodded again at her restatement of the matter at hand.

 

Kagome fell silent, and I felt her gaze studying my face, perhaps looking for a more emotional response than my nod. Knowing her, she most likely wanted me to be unreasonable, deny that I had made any mistake, something to give her an excuse to lash out without guilt.

 

I saw no reason to give her such an excuse and remained silent, patiently waiting for her to continue. In my experience, silence prompted a better response than words would.

 

“The Triads are dangerous,” Kagome blurted out. “If you're making a deal with someone in their grip, the Triads could get a grip on you. And then if we ever want to leave they'll probably send their bodyguards to come beat us into submission. Or they'll start feeding us drugs and make us addicted to them and threaten to take the drugs away if we leave. Drugs are bad! Really bad! Naraku will make you really successful in your career but it'll be fake because it'll only be based on reputation not actually talent...”

 

Smiling and nodding seriously, I let Kagome babble on and listened closely.

 

“…And if we ever try to leave the country Naraku will probably send gangsters after us. As punishment for trying to escape he'll probably sell us all into prostitution! He'll make you sleep with his single niece and Sango and I will be forced to entertain all his guests, or something!”

 

Kagome paused to take a breath, but I stopped her here.

 

“I think you've been watching too many movies,” I told her. “I doubt any of that would really happen.”

 

“You never know,” Kagome pointed out. “There's always a possibility.”

 

“Quite.” I propped my elbow up onto the table and leaned my chin onto a hand. “So you've established that being involved with Naraku is risky,” I reported dutifully. “But you haven't answered my question. Tell me what you're upset about.”

 

Fuming, Kagome snapped, “Do I have to spell it out for you? Haven't I made it clear?”

 

“You've delineated that you fear for the future,” I stated. “That is all.”

 

No, it wasn't all. I could see the underlying problems implied in her rambling and could easily guess the reasons for her anger. Kagome had been caught by surprise last night, and circumstances had not given her time to absorb the shock and react appropriately. She no doubt felt hurt that I hadn't been the one to break it to her. But this was all speculation. I've found that my speculations on the emotions of females were often off, no matter how carefully I had thought it through. It was one thing to misjudge one of my girlfriends, who came went without consistency, but it was another to misjudge my sister.

 

“You are clueless,” Kagome reiterated and groaned at the ceiling. Still facing the ceiling, she snapped, “Nii-chan, of course I'm scared, and I'm surprised that you're not. I didn't know what to do when Gao Inuyasha said Naraku's name.”

 

Kagome looked at me again, only this time she just looked resigned instead of angry.

 

Yes, I thought. This was it. This was the moment when she revealed the actual reason behind it all.

 

It started softly.

 

“I didn't know how to react last night, when Gao-san mentioned Naraku,” Kagome said in a low, tired voice. “I mean, I already felt stupid, especially after making of fool of myself in front of Gao—”

 

“You didn't make a fool of yourself,” I pointed out.

 

“Yes I did! But that's not the point. The point is that I think signing a deal with Gao is going to screw you over. I thought it was going to in the first place, and knowing that Gao's involved with the Triads just proves it.”

 

I shook my head. “It's not—”

 

“And I can't believe you brought me with too!” she interrupted. “I thought you just wanted me to face up to Gao so that I wouldn't be against the deal, but that's not it, right? I don't get it. It's one thing to put yourself in danger, but bringing me with you? I don't mean to be selfish, but why would you do that? You always tell me to stay away from the dangerous parts of the music industry, but then you bring me to it. I'm so confused. It doesn't make sense.”

 

My sister gave me a calculating look, once again looking for some sort of reaction. I didn't humor her and only gave my customary nod and smile. She sighed.

“It's okay that you brought me to the jaws of the mafia, I guess,” Kagome relented. “I didn't actually get hurt, and it didn't seem like they were thinking of killing me later.” She rubbed her temples distractedly.

 

I frowned in thought. This seemed to confirm my suspicions. It wasn't the dinner itself that upset Kagome but…

 

“Why didn't you tell me about it?” Kagome asked, closing her eyes with a sigh. “Did you think I'd freak out if I knew?” She paused and then hastily corrected herself. “I mean, I know I'm freaking out now, aren't I? But I swear I wouldn't have if you told me before. You should have told me before we went anyway! It's like you don't trust me or something Nii-chan.”

 

And there it was.

 

I opened my mouth to reply at the same time Sango dashed into the kitchen.

 

“Higurashi-san! You're still not dressed yet?!” she shrieked frantically, clumsily pouring herself a glass of soymilk. “You have a radio interview in an hour. We have to leave in half an hour. You're not dressed yet, and you haven't even finished breakfast!” Sango took a long gulp of her soymilk as Kagome and I watched dumbly. “Your hair,” Sango wailed suddenly, gesturing at me with the hand holding the cup.

 

“Yes?” I asked mildly.

 

“It's terrible,” Sango moaned. “What did you do to your hair?”

 

I ran a hand ruefully through my hair and discovered that I couldn't due to the accumulation of tangles and random knots. Puzzled, I teased out a lock of hair to look at and stared at the matted mass of black strands. I felt with my other hand a few inches above my head and felt the ends of what was most probably a cowlick.

 

“Hum,” I said. Perhaps it was good that I hadn't looked in mirror as of yet this morning.

 

“Is that all you have to say?!” Sango snapped without amusement. “Finish your breakfast and go up and get dressed. And fix your hair.”

 

“I'll go up now,” I offered.

 

“Good. Don't even bother with your dishes, you take too long. I'll take care of it,” Sango said fretfully.

 

I almost insisted on doing my own dishes, but decided that now was not the time to test Sango's nerves. There were more important things to do, that discussion with Kagome in particular. Standing up, I said to my sister, “Why don't you help me choose what to wear, Kagome. It's only a radio interview but you never know if the people have a camera handy.”

 

Kagome shrugged and followed me out of the kitchen.

 

In my bedroom, I opened the closet and considered the assorted hanging clothes. Behind me, Kagome sat on my bed and stared at a wall. For a moment, it was silent.

 

Grabbing the first shirt that came to my fingers, I thought about how to begin.

 

“I don't blame you for feeling that way, just to let you know,” I commented. “I didn't mean for the mafia angle to be sprung upon you so unexpectedly, and I apologize for that.”

 

I turned to look at Kagome as I grabbed a random pair of pants and tried not to sigh when she made no response. Tossing the shirt and pants over the side of the bed, I plopped down next to my sister.

 

“Yes, being involved with the Triads is risky,” I continued on. “And bringing you there was risky as well. But I honestly don't think it was that dangerous.”

 

Kagome, in spite of herself, turned to give me an exasperated look.

 

I held up a hand for silence. “Remember, I'm not denying that Triad involvement is dangerous. It is the dinner outing that I'm talking about.”

 

She still looked dubious, which, knowing her state of mind, didn't surprise me. I patted her shoulder as I continued. “Trust me, that Myouga? He's perfectly harmless. He might have talked all high and mighty, but it's all hot air when you come down to it. We can deduce that Myouga does have direct contact with some Triad higher ups, but that does not mean that he himself holds a formidable position. So even if we did offend him, which I doubt, it wouldn't matter because the bosses, the ones who do matter, probably wouldn't care in any case—”

 

I paused when Kagome abruptly hopped off the bed and casually padded out my bedroom without a word. Listening to her footsteps moving away, I waited patiently, self- assured that Kagome would not outright walk out of a conversation.

 

Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, Kagome reentered the room with a comb and a bottle of what I strongly suspected was Sango's detangling hairspray.

 

She shrugged at my suspicious look and plopped down behind me. “Your hair bothers me,” she stated simply, cool fingers pulling hair from my face.

 

I frowned and glanced around at her, trying to stay collected instead of surprised, but Kagome took hold of my chin and gently swiveled my face back around. Fingers smoothened hair from my forehead and then snagged on a knot.

 

I shrugged. “So,” I said as her fingers began to carefully unravel the knot, “if you're really so anxious about the impression we gave to Myouga, don't. There is no need to worry about anything Myouga might do. Do you understand?”

 

Kagome sighed, her breath sharply hitting my skin, but she continued to pick at my hair.

 

Suddenly I wondered if I was really as secure as I thought I was. Was Myouga really so useless? Was there really no harm in it all?

 

Did I really know what I was doing?

 

“And you shouldn't worry about whatever Gao Inuyasha says,” I added, attempting to keep up my confident facade.

 

But it occurred to me that it didn't matter what I said on the subject anymore, just as long as I said something. So I talked on and on, repeating the same assurances and promises of safety, of having complete confidence in the actions we took and optimism in the deal with Gao Inuyasha and his somewhat questionable patronage. As I spoke, eventually I closed my eyes since I only faced the rest of my room with Kagome sitting behind me. I couldn't tell if she believed anything I said, not even if I believed it. She only continued to brush and undo the snags in my hair, wetting it with detangling spray every now and then.

 

“I still haven't said why I brought you with me, did I?” I commented eventually.

 

The swish of a brush running through hair answered me.

 

“But does it still matter?” I wondered. The brush suddenly hit on a snag and twitched against my scalp. I said quickly, “but I should say it anyway, of course.”

 

And I was back to that question again: why did I bring Kagome along to meet individuals affiliated with the Triads? And then another question came: did I have an answer to give?

 

“I'm not sure,” I said, and I wasn't lying. Perhaps I had an inkling of a reason when I told her that she was going with me, and perhaps that inkling had slipped through my fingers and disappeared. Perhaps that inkling had only been a figment of my imagination. “I think,” I began and paused to give myself time to decide what to say, “that it had something to do with…” I had to decide quickly. “…With… with me hardly seeing you these days, and how…”

 

How different her world was from mine, even though she lived with me, and how I wanted to protect her from my world by bringing her into it so I could keep her close. And how I didn't know if this impulse stemmed from me being a big brother who didn't know if he was supposed to act like her parent or not, and how I didn't know what the difference between a brother and parent was anymore.

 

It was something to something along those lines.

 

“…I'm not sure,” I confessed again, wearily.

 

Kagome gave my hair one final brush and set it down on the bed. She gathered my hair at my neck and tied it with a band.

 

“It's okay,” she said. “I guess,” she added as an afterthought.

 

I turned around to face her and she looked back with an expression not quite convinced, but with some acceptance. “Okay,” I replied. “Okay.”

 

And that seemed to be that.

 

I glanced at the clock on the set of drawers next my bed and noted pleasantly, “I have to leave in ten minutes.”

 

“Do you still need help deciding what to wear?” Kagome asked glancing at the outfit I had tossed onto the bed.

 

“Nah,” I replied. “The radio people can handle my bad fashion sense for a day—”

 

A frantic series of knocks at the door interrupted me, and Sango burst through the door, saying fretfully, “Kagome, Houjou-sensei is here and waiting for you in the living room. Higurashi-san! You're still not dressed?! We have to leave soon, you know!”

 

The fact that she could have opened the door on me changing apparently had not occurred to Sango. What a pity. “In due time, Sango, in due time,” I said smilingly.

o

o

Sango

o

My second day of Being Miroku's Actual Manager was not starting out very well, but I did learn something new. I now understand why Miroku's old manager Lei always acted like he had a prickly stick up his butt. Trying to manage someone as unruly as Miroku would drive anyone crazy.

 

I managed to get him out of the flat five minutes earlier than planned, but somehow, we arrived at the radio studio five minutes late. It shouldn't have happened. I had carefully planned out the day, scheduling in an extra twenty minutes to account for the morning traffic rush to the car ride to the radio station, which would only have taken about ten minutes from the flat with ideal traffic conditions. And yet, we were still late. I should have expected something like this, since Miroku had that strange and rather unfair ability to twist circumstances to his pleasure. Or maybe it was the fact that Miroku stopped and got out of the car to shake hands with every single self-acclaimed fan we encountered along the way. And the fact that he was sneaky enough to prevent me from stopping him only made my morning worse. He did this by employing such techniques as rambling conversations with fans, letting fans clutch his arm and not let go, and autographing articles of clothing, lingering in such a way that I could not intervene without raising some sort of outcry.

 

“I'm very sorry for our tardiness,” I apologized to the radio crew, bowing deeply. “Please forgive us.”

 

But the radio show producer only shrugged at me and stepped forward with a hospitable hand to Miroku.

 

“Higurashi Miroku! Welcome to our studio and to the show! Please hurry, our listeners are very eager to hear you speak…”

 

I opened my mouth at his rudeness, but Miroku swung out his hand to the producer, arm gently brushing against mine. I caught the hint and shut my mouth as Miroku let himself get bustled into the recording studio and accepted a pair of headphones. Sitting on a chair and taking up my own headphones, it occurred to me that Miroku probably felt comfortable in this setting, the ease of repetition and practice making it almost home-like to him.

 

For the umpteenth time this morning, I wondered why the hell Miroku kept me, with all my inexperience and naivety, as his manager, and why the hell I accepted the job. I couldn't repress the feeling that I should be back at the flat testing Kagome on Chinese vocabulary instead of sitting here in some hotshot radio studio, wondering if I was supposed to exert some kind of authority as a celebrity manager, a manager since yesterday.

 

In the mean time, the radio studio workers ignored me and gave the go ahead to the two radio hosts to start the interview.

 

“And we're back, live, with actor and pop sensation Higurashi Miroku,” the chipper, female host began.

 

I calmly held up a hand to my mouth and coughed, discreetly covering up my snort at the phrase “pop sensation.” I had always found the phrase silly, and even more so when applied to Miroku as it described him in the way “big” described the planet.

 

“Nice to finally have you on the show,” the male host said cheerfully.

 

“Thanks for having me here,” Miroku responded politely.

 

And with that, I instantly knew that this interview was not going to be any different from any other interview I had accompanied Miroku with, which meant that I was going to be bored for next hour. The realization startled me, and the fact that I should have anticipated the boredom rather than be startled by it surprised me even more. This was not the first interview of its kind that I had witnessed, but this was certainly the first time I found myself wholly uninterested in an interview.

 

I sighed and stretched out my arms, narrowly missing a passing worker's nose. Opting to keep the headphones on, just in case the radio hosts happened to say or ask anything inappropriate, I settled in for the next hour and took the time to relax for the first time that morning, since I might as well be comfortable if I was going to be bored.

 

My instincts were correct for the majority of the interview, for the hosts asked mostly standard questions, like why he liked singing, why he liked acting, why he preferred Hong Kong to Tokyo, what he liked best about Hong Kong, going on and for a good forty-five minutes. But it was in those last fifteen minutes that my instincts crashed and my mood took a downturn.

 

“So, apparently, you used to be quite the partier in your early days,” Female Host commented, suggestively wagging an eyebrow.

 

“Oh yeah,” agreed Male Host. “There was a time when pictures of you and some girl at a club were all over the place. And it was a different girl every time!”

 

This was definitely forbidden territory. Didn't they know this sort of thing shouldn't be discussed live?

 

Shaken out of my stupor, I glared warningly through the glass wall at the hosts and then glanced at Miroku, silently asking if he wanted any intervention from me. To my surprise, he only turned his head slightly in my direction and gave me a subtle quirk at the corner of his lip.

 

“Well, yes, I was more social when I was younger,” Miroku replied, smirking. “You could say that I was a little more open to fun and excitement at the time, even if it involved dancing and…female companions.”

 

…He was actually answering them?!

 

“Oh, you weren't that much younger. It was only a few years ago,” Female Host quipped, giggling.

 

If there hadn't been other people around, I would have sobbed into my hands. What was he thinking? You weren't supposed to talk about your personal life over the air! The hosts were excusable since they were just doing their job, but Miroku should know better.

 

I could smell the future bad publicity coming to our doorstep already.

 

“So what's happened now?” Female Host wondered. “Where have you been? Why have you disappeared from the party scene?”

 

Miroku only chuckled. “I suppose you won't believe me if I said that I'd outgrown partying?”

 

As both hosts burst out laughing, I gave up, mentally kicking myself for my ineptitude and inexperience and praying that Miroku was experienced enough to keep the conversation from straying too far.

 

“I didn't think so,” he remarked.

 

“You know what I've noticed? We started seeing less of you ever since your little sister started living with you. Perhaps your sister has had a restrictive impact on you?” Male Host speculated.

 

The relaxed, lively expression on Miroku's face darkened ever so slightly, a small lowering of the eyelids, a droop at one corner of the lips, a tilt of the head, but only his brief silence made it known to the radio and its listeners. He propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin on a hand, smiling vaguely.

 

“Perhaps…” Miroku answered. “Maybe having my sister Kagome move in with me had some effect on my… socializing habits. But then you do realize that at the time, it had been a little more than half a year since my parents and little brother had died. I don't know about other partiers out there, but death puts a huge damper on your spirit. But you see, however effected I was by my family's death, my sister was more so. It's one of the reasons she left Japan to live me you know.”

 

“What reasons were these again?” Male Host asked suddenly.

 

Miroku gave him a wan smile. “That's a whole other story, and I'm sure my time here is limited.”

 

They both started and looked around frantically at the producer, who looked at the clock and gestured back.

 

“Well, it seems we only have five minutes left as it is,” Female Host said quickly. “So, one more question.” She leaned forward with an eager expression. “I hear,” she began, “that not only your sister lives with you, but another girl as well. A girl the age as you are.” She wagged an eyebrow up and down at him.

 

“And where did you hear that?” Miroku wondered, face beginning to lose the darkness and returning to its usual cheerfulness.

 

“Is it true?”

 

“Oh, yes.”

 

I carefully kept my fisted hands in my lap and kept my face neutral. And then I turned slightly to see if anyone was staring at me as the good old sympathetic nervous system kicked in, complete with sweaty palms and a heart beat so fast that it couldn't be healthy.

 

…No, stop worrying, just stop, Sango. Turn your face back; if they see you looking around they'll know that other girl is you. Stay in control! Maybe they don't even know it's you, but if you react they'll probably guess. Stop worrying. Why do you care if they know anyway? What would be so embarrassing about it? What do you have to hide from? But I wonder if my cheeks look completely red, they certainly feel like it. No. Do not think about the death threats you received the first year you started living with the Higurashi's. Do not think about attention you got from the tabloids. And definitely do not think about the rumors. Don't. Just think about what you're going to do to Miroku if he says anything. Yes…

 

“And do you both get along…?” Male Host asked. “… Please answer the question out loud, Miroku. Our listeners won't be able to see your grin.”

 

As I held my breath, Miroku laughed merrily, rather suspiciously keeping his face carefully turned away from me.

 

“Right, sorry. Yes, we get along,” Miroku replied, struggling to hold in his chuckles.

 

I exhaled in relief.

 

“…And?” Female Host said when Miroku didn't elaborate.

 

“And what?” Miroku asked.

 

“Is there anything else you can say?”

 

“Like what? You have to be specific, you know.”

 

Both hosts shook their heads and laughed and I sank into a puddle of nervous relief. It seemed that Miroku had decided to spare me some stress and remain ambiguous about me to the public. Considering past times when he'd been less generous to me, this definitely made me feel better.

 

“Let's get right to the point, then, shall we?” Female Host quipped. “As many of your fans noticed, you were spotted less and less the last few years, and your female fans, myself, included, wonder if this girl had anything to do with it.”

 

“Oh?” Miroku raised an eyebrow.

 

“Well, this fact that she lives with you is pretty suspicious. To put it bluntly, is there any sort of romantic relationship between yourself and this mystery girl?”

 

Miroku lowered his eyebrow and for a moment, he looked blank, dangerously blank, as if he was considering an answer.

 

I fisted my hands in my lap, back straight and stiff, holding my breath, afraid to look at him but too nerve-wrecked not to.

 

Do not look at me. Mentally, I shouted to him, don't you dare look over at me. If you give me any funny looks, the radio hosts will notice and then the crew will notice. The listeners won't notice, but the radio hosts will gossip about it and then they'll know. I don't care if you think teasing me is funny, but don't you dare do it here.

 

But of course, Miroku had a gift of making life difficult. My life, that is.

 

Slowly, as though we were in a horror movie, Miroku notched his head to the side and swiveled his eyes around at me, blinking and quirking up a corner of his mouth, mockingly questioning and mischievous. As his glance caught mine, the quirk became a grin, silently asking, well, I don't know the answer, what do you think, hm?

 

I thought about how nice it would be to evaporate out of the station.

 

“Uh, Miroku?” Male Host asked, twisting around to see where he was looking.

 

“You will answer the question, won't you? We don't have much air time left,” Female Host pressed.

 

I watched fretfully, but none of the radio crew or hosts seemed give me any more attention than before after Miroku's look.

 

“We have one minute remaining, so quickly now, are there any romantic feelings between this girl and you?” Male Host said again, somewhat sharply.

 

Still looking at me, Miroku's quirk became a full-fledged grin.

 

It wouldn't be below Miroku to tease me on air, but even he knew better than to talk outright about romantic relationships in public. That didn't mean he wouldn't give hints every now and then. His publicist told me once that Miroku was infamous for dropping tidbits about his love life, tidbits fishy enough to spark interest, but vague enough to not actually reveal anything.

 

Pondering this, I waited curiously and in trepidation for Miroku's answer. It caused a ruckus in the media, but it was still strangely amusing to see how people received Miroku's tidbits. And it's most certainly not because I wanted to hear him say that he and I were actually in a relationship.

 

No, ha, ha. No. Imagine, me and him, in a romantic relationship, with me still working as his personal manager. Oh yeah, that's romantic. It's not as if I would ever harbor such feelings, nor him.

 

And then Miroku took a breath.

 

“The relationship between my little sister's former tutor and me is one common between room mates,” Miroku said, carefully making sure to pronounce each and every word. “She is a good person and a delight to share a penthouse with.”

 

The double entendres were unmistakable.

 

I sunk into the chair, hand covering my face hand despairingly.

 

“Former tutor?!” Female Host questioned suspiciously.

 

“Yes,” Miroku answered.

 

And then time ran out and Miroku was shaking hands and being clapped on the back and shoulders as we were led out of the studio and out of the building.

 

“That was quite underhand, you know,” I informed him as his car drove us away from the waving radio crew. “And you didn't have to torture the poor girl so, keeping her waiting and everything. You stalled on purpose, I could tell.”

 

Miroku only cackled back at me. “You should have seen the look on your face,” he laughed.

 

I shook my head disapprovingly.

 

“Well, where to next, Little Sister's Former Tutor?” Miroku asked.

 

“We're having lunch with Naraku,” I said. “Please reframe from talking about our relationship with them. I don't need the Triads spreading rumors about us too.”

 

“As you wish, my dear.”

o

o

Kagome

o

“Time's up. Put your pen down, Kagome-san. We still have an hour left, so we have time go over your math homework,” Houjou announced cheerfully.

 

Wearily, I ended my essay and capped my pen. “Can I take a break before math, Houjou-sensei? My hand hurts: my essay's really long.”

 

Houjou considered. “I suppose,” he said, eventually.

 

I glanced at the clock, shaking out my wrist, and wondered how time had passed so quickly. It was already mid-afternoon.

 

“I think that was enough of a break,” Houjou remarked. “Now let's look at—”

 

The door opened and I turned around eagerly to smile as Miroku and Sango entered the flat.

 

“How was the interview, Nii-chan?” I called.

 

“It was fun!” Miroku responded, walking into the living room. Plopping down on a couch, he turned to my tutor. “Houjou-san, I don't think Kagome will be able concentrate very much with me hanging around, so why don't you go home early today?” he suggested.

 

“I'm not sure,” Houjou said, frowning. “Kagome really needs the extra math instruction…”

 

“And I promise not to dock your pay,” Miroku added.

 

“Oh. All right then,” Houjou agreed.

 

Once Houjou was safely shown to the door and out of the flat, I hugged Miroku gratefully.

 

“You have no idea how thankful I am for you being here,” I told him.

 

“Probably not,” Miroku agreed. “Oh, by the way…”

 

He was using that voice, the one used for requesting things that I would most likely refuse. I moved back and glared suspiciously at him. “You don't want me to go with you to work tonight, do you?”

 

He grinned. “I only want you to accompany me to a photo shoot tomorrow morning. We'll have to go in early, but I know you can handle it.”

 

“What about Houjou-sensei?”

 

“Tomorrow's Saturday.”

 

“If that's all there is, why did you send Houjou-sensei home early?” I demanded.

 

His grin was sheepish this time. “The shoot is for publicity with Gao Inuyasha. He'll be there too.”

 

“…Oh. Inuyasha, again. Great.”

 

“Naraku Onigumo will be present as well. We spoke with him today, and he was very interested in us. He even wanted to see you and requested your presence at the shoot.”

 

…What?

 

Vaguely, I felt my eyes widen and my breath catch in my throat. Naraku, big shot of the Triads, wanted to see me? Why? What's so interesting about me? I've never even seen him before, I don't even know what he looks like.

 

I thought about the rumors and controversy surrounding him and remembered the movies and my hands began to shake. “Why does he want to see… me?” I asked.

 

Miroku shrugged. “Polite interest?” he suggested.

 

I scrutinized my brother, wondering at his nonchalance. He had told me this morning that he had everything under control, but I doubted his credibility. “But why would he care about me? I'm just your sister.”

 

And I don't want to see him. I don't want anything to do with him. I don't want Miroku to get involved with him. I don't want to see anyone close to him, and especially not Gao Inuyasha. Miroku should know this, but why did it seem like he was disregarding my feelings?

 

“Remember our conversation this morning?” Miroku asked, taking my hand. “Please, don't worry. You have nothing to be afraid of, I'll make sure of it.” He grinned suddenly. “And besides, Kouga was hired as the photographer. He hasn't photographed you for months and I'm sure he misses you.”

 

“Kouga?” Against my better judgement, I felt myself perking up at the mention of the photographer. “Kouga's leading the shoot?”

 

“That's what I just said, Kagome-chan.”

 

“Oh!”

 

And with that, my brother once again hooked me into another part of his business. I could only hope that I wouldn't get sucked in too deeply.