InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Love's Smirking Revenge ❯ Ultimatum ( Chapter 23 )

There was nothing particularly appealing about Club VOSS. It was a too-small, appallingly decorated establishment located in the heart of Tokyo's Yoshiwara district. It boasted a mediocre menu of hostesses on the billboards out front, and presented an even less impressive cast once you were inside. Sesshomaru found the very idea of being there repugnant, but for all its faults Club VOSS was discrete and when you were in his line of business discretion was everything.

 

Swallowing down the sour tang of disdain that lingered in his mouth, Sesshomaru took a seat at one of the club's more secluded booths and offered his business partner a stiff nod. The man seated across from him returned the gesture in kind and called to the waitress for another glass of Scotch.

 

“Welcome Sesshomaru. It's been some time since I've had the honour of your company.”

 

Sesshomaru nodded and offered a tight smile.

 

He despised the man sitting across from him, just like he did all the others of his sort. They were all the same - detestable creatures with sharp, cagey eyes and deep pockets. Their belief that money gave them permission to forego all elements of social grace was pandemic amongst them. This man for instance, Yoshi Hanamari, had been operating for some time under the misapprehension that his money gave him permission to refer to Sesshomaru by his given name. If it weren't for the fact that Mr. Hanamari contributed over a quarter million yen to his businesses yearly, he would have cut ties, and removed the man's tongue, some time ago.

 

“Tell me, Sesshomaru, how's business?”

 

Hanamari asked this as he retrieved a fresh cigarette from his case and lit it before the previous one had even gone out. The man was a chain smoker as well; he did everything in excess and none of it well.

 

The waitress returned and slid a glass of Scotch in front of them. Sesshomaru tipped her well enough so she'd disappear until they called for her again. He was less than surprised to find that the drink smelled and tasted like cheap gasoline. The knowledge that he'd just spent 2000 yen on a glass of what amounted to gutter filth fouled his mood considerably.

 

“Business is good,” he answered without feeling any need to elaborate.

 

Hanamari nodded, satisfied, and Sesshomaru watched with disgust as he happily sucked down his glass of petrol. He doubted the man even knew what real Scotch tasted like.

 

“Only good? I'd think it'd be booming these days with Takeda out of the picture.”

 

Sesshomaru grunted dismissively at the name of his deceased rival. In their industry there were two kinds of men - the kind who were born good at what they did and the rest, who bullied and blackmailed their way to the top. Naraku Takeda belonged to the latter and no one mourned his loss.

 

He'd always known Takeda to be a calculating and vindictive bastard when it came to his women, so the news that he'd fallen victim to his obsession with one had come as something of a surprise.

 

“Takeda was a fool,” he muttered before choking down another sip of his drink.

 

Hanamari chuckled darkly in agreement.

 

“True enough, true enough. I suppose it's true what they say - “Look behind the downfall of every great man, and you will find a woman?”

 

Sesshomaru shrugged. It wasn't something he worried about. He wasn't like Takeda. The women in his life were pretty accessories, something he enjoyed until he grew tired of them and moved on to the next. Forming attachments was dangerous business and not the sort of gamble he felt inclined to dabble in.

 

“Regardless, Takeda was a fool,” he muttered into his glass, but Hanamari was no longer listening. His attention had been thoroughly diverted by a leggy waitress delivering a drink order to a group a few tables away. Sesshomaru eyed the round curve of the waitress's ass and determined that she was far too `cheap' looking for his liking.

 

“Ahhh, but I do love these wonderful establishments!” Hanamari cheered, practically licking his lips at each scantily clad hostess who walked by.

 

“Tell me Sesshomaru,” he grinned, prodding him in the ribs, “do you enjoy these sorts of places often?

 

Sesshomaru pulled heavily on his cigarette and, with great effort, removed his hand from his gun. He had to wonder at times if the man was even aware of how close he'd come to being disembowelled on more than one occasion.

 

“No. I'm far too busy managing our clubs and turning you a profit.”

 

Hanamari laughed heartily at this and clapped him on the shoulder while cheering, “Good man! Good man!”

 

Despite owning a sizeable stake in Tokyo's entertainment business himself, he'd always considered these sorts of establishments beneath him; low class breeding low class. The people who worked in them were nearly as pathetic and disgusting in his eyes as the patrons who spent their money to pretend these women actually enjoyed their lacklustre wit and charm more than what was in their wallets.

 

He discretely checked his watch while Hanamari chatted up a waitress who'd had the unfortunate bad luck to pass their table. His taste in entertainment was somewhat more refined. He enjoyed subtlety and culture, class and intellect. It was only 10:30. If he left now he could still make it to the café before it closed…

 

The unconscious calculations his brain was making, subtracting minutes and adding travel time, surprised him. It'd been weeks since he'd last stepped foot through the doors of the Vica Café. For a while he'd managed to forget about it entirely, focusing instead on meeting year end deadlines and enticing new investors to trust him with their money. But with the hectic pace of the holiday season gone, his thoughts had slowly started to creep back to the café and its petite doe-eyed waitress.

 

His thoughts had wandered on more than one occasion to linger on the girl with the simple name. She intrigued him; being so unlike the women he was used to, he couldn't help but wonder. His jaded sense of better judgement was thoroughly convinced that beneath her plain looks and simple smile she was just as cunning and manipulative as the rest. But there was more to it than that. While he'd avoided her for the sake of not corrupting the image he'd constructed of her in his mind, it went against his nature. She appealed to him the same way a fresh block of clay would tantalize a sculptor, and like the sculptor's clay, she too could be moulded into something spectacular, something entirely his own. He liked the idea, more than liked it, but of course that would require seeing her again at some point in the near future.

 

He contemplated the wisdom of leaving and checked his watch again. 10:45. It'd be tight, but if he took a shortcut through traffic… And then all contemplation ceased because across the room, navigating between empty tables with a drink tray in hand was a girl far too familiar for his liking. She looked thinner than he remembered, and sorely out of place in her short skirt and high heels, but there was no mistaking her.

 

“You know what I love about this place?” Hanamari gushed, his face flushed from laughter and too much alcohol. Sesshomaru lifted an eyebrow expectantly and Hanamari leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially, “The stench of the business doesn't linger on these girls like it does some of the others. They're so fresh, most of them; ripe little fruits perfect for plucking!”

 

The hostesses that had made themselves at home at their table cackled like hyenas at Hanamari's words. The one closest to him touched his shoulder flirtatiously and licked her lips as she crossed her legs. He couldn't hide the look of disdain that crossed his features. She got the hint and turned her attention to more fruitful pastures while he focused his entirely on the girl across the room.

 

His eyes following her every move as she flitted from table to table, smiling, flirting, delivering drinks to her customers...

 

Unbeknownst to him, his fists clenched atop the table; they were the only outward sign of the rage that was slowly boiling to life inside of him. Staring at the whites of his knuckles, he searched for the source of this sudden feeling but couldn't come up with anything tangible beyond the realization that the image he'd constructed of her had been a complete fallacy.

 

Perhaps knowing that he'd allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy was what bothered him. Either way, it was time to leave. Forcing himself to linger and watch her display any longer was simply asking too much. He excused himself with a curt nod, stating that he had other business to attend to. Hanamari waved him off, far too preoccupied with the hostess sitting in his lap to notice or care.

 

The cool air of the street was a welcome relief but his mind continued to reel as he made his way to his car. On a whim he gave his driver directions to the Vica Café. There were questions he wanted answers to, and that seemed as good a place as any to start.

 

oOo

 

The drum of rain on the roof was deafening, but it wasn't nearly loud enough to drown out the whispers of doubt that stole her courage. Kouga's warm hand covered hers and she offered him a tight smile.

 

She wasn't ready. Every part of her knew it, right down to her bones, but there was nothing she could do to stop the earth's forward motion. Somehow she'd wound up trapped inside, forced along for the ride with no safety belt or reassurance that she'd still be in once piece at the end.

 

The door to her building lingered just beyond the car's passenger window but she could barely bring herself to look at it. She'd survived for too long on the mantra that everything would be okay once she was home again. But now, while she glanced up at the brick structure looming over her like a great wall, she could feel the last shred of hope she'd been clinging to fall away. Nothing felt better. Nothing had changed. In the end she'd been fooling herself, about a lot of things.

 

Kouga gave her hand an encouraging squeeze and ducked out the driver's door to grab her things from the trunk. She watched him brave the monsoon for her sake in the rearview mirror and nibbled nervously at her lip.

 

It was still a complete mystery to her how she'd wound up with someone like him in her life. He was there for her when she didn't even realize she needed him. It didn't seem to matter what he did though, no amount of nice deeds or kind words could silence the nagging voice in the back of her mind that wondered how long he'd stick around once he realized she couldn't give him what he truly wanted.

 

The hiss of the rain against the blacktop stole her focus as she slowly made her way from the car to the door. It cast off a light mist that licked at her ankles and made her socks damps. She'd have to change once she got inside, maybe have a nice hot bath to get the cold out of her bones. The idea grew more appealing as she followed him slowly up the stairs to her floor. It'd be nice to feel warm again, and safe too. She hadn't felt either in so long.

 

“Well, go on,” Kouga urged with a smile once they got to her door, “You must be dying to finally be back in your own place.”

 

Hardly, she thought, but her hand shoved the key into the lock anyhow.

 

Much like everything else, getting her door open was about a hundred times more difficult with only one working arm. The other was strapped tight to her body in a sling, an unfortunate consequence of her shoulder injury being left untended. The dislocation had swelled up so bad by the time she arrived at the hospital the doctors decided with a couple days that surgery was the only option.

 

The news was so overwhelming she hadn't known how to react. Waffling between fear, anger and frustration she'd thrown the worst tantrum of her adult life. It was something else she had to endure, some more pain she had to suffer through. Hadn't she gone through enough already? When would it finally be enough?

She'd tearfully shouted at Kouga when he'd come by to visit her that day. It made her cringe now to think of the harsh things she'd said to him. He'd listened patiently throughout her entire tirade then gave her a hard look and said in a very quiet voice,

 

`Not many people can say they've walked away from a run in with the yakuza with their life and limbs still intact. You're lucky Kagome, luckier than most. Remember that.'

 

She didn't think she'd see him again after that, especially not when her response had been an indignant `Go fuck yourself!'

 

He left without saying another word, only to return at his usual time the next day bearing flowers and a smile. She didn't have the strength or courage to send him away. Because at the end of the day, she couldn't ignore the fact that after three weeks of surgeries, rehabilitation and round after round of antibiotics, the only name on her Visitor's List was his.

 

It was a bitter pill to swallow. The years she'd spent holding everyone at arm's length had finally caught up to her. Not a single one of her coworkers had come by to check on her, her friends and family had been mysteriously MIA, and Inuyasha hadn't shown his face since the day he'd walked out. She hadn't expected him to, knowing full well that he wouldn't want anything to do with her know that he saw her for what she was, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

 

“You really didn't have to do this you know,” she muttered while using her good shoulder to push the door to her apartment open. “I know you're busy with your cases…”

 

Kouga chuckled softly and followed her inside.

 

“Well sure, but today this is more important. I wanted to make sure you'd be okay here by yourself.”

 

He said this from the kitchen where he was setting her bags down on the floor. She lingered in the hall, taking her time to lock the door before she slowly made her way to join him. The apartment looked the same as she remembered, down to the last minor detail, yet she couldn't help but think that it was no longer hers. The space didn't feel lived in or homey or comforting - all of the things she'd hoped it would be when she arrived.

 

Taking a quick tour about the kitchen she looked unenthusiastically at the stack of bills piled on the counter and listlessly opened the fridge door. After so many weeks away she didn't even want to think about how much food would be rotting inside. Surprisingly, what greeted her was shelf after shelf of fresh produce and some of her favourite snacks.

 

Stunned, she stared at him over the top of the fridge door.

 

“Did you…?” she began to ask, but the pleased look on his face gave the rest away.

 

“Well I figured you'd need something to eat so I took the liberty of putting a few things in there for you. If you need anything else, just let me know. I don't want you trying to carry any grocery bags with that arm, understand?”

 

“More…?” she stuttered, momentarily at a loss for words. “Kouga…Thank you...”

 

She didn't think to ask how he'd gotten her keys or how he knew that purple seedless grapes were her favourite.

 

He smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. “Hey, it's nothin'. You've gotta eat right?”

 

“Yeah…right.”

 

Taking the initiative, he grabbed her bags off the floor and headed for the bedroom. Her feet followed reluctantly while her mind lingered on the fridge.

 

Why was he being so nice to her? Not once in all the months they'd known each other had she done anything that would even come close to making her worthy of the special treatment he bestowed upon her without a second thought. It didn't seem right.

 

No, that wasn't exactly it. The truth was she didn't know how to handle `nice'. The men in her life were something she survived, not something she benefitted from. Kouga was different from the others in a way that made her sit up and take notice, while being racked with guilt at the same time. At the end of the day it didn't matter that he was `nice' and patient, or that he took the day off to drive her home from the hospital and bought her groceries, because at the end of the day he wasn't who her heart wanted.

 

Fate was cruel that way; it always had been when it came to her and love.

 

“Were you planning a trip somewhere?”

 

Kouga's voice greeted her the moment she stepped into the bedroom. It didn't feel like hers anymore. From where she stood, it was just another empty space like all the other rooms in her apartment. Seeing the open suitcase on her bed and the clothes strewn about in various stages of packing, she nodded slowly.

 

“I was going to Hokkaido...”

 

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and a thoughtful look came over his face. “You should go,” he determined with a nod, “Once you're all healed up I mean.”

 

She pursed her lips as she thought the idea and eventually offered him a half-hearted shrug.

 

“Maybe,” she conceded, not willing to elaborate more.

 

Suddenly embarrassed by the mess, she began grabbing the clothes off her bed and shoving them into her suitcase. The idea of going away on a trip seemed so stupid and juvenile now. That had been the old Kagome and she didn't feel any attachment to her whatsoever.

 

She'd planned to go with him, but when he'd turned her offer down she'd decided to go without him just to make him jealous. She hadn't gotten the chance to follow her plan through, but now she doubted it would've had her desired effect on him at all. What a joke.

 

Kouga chuckled and gave her a wink.

 

“Well, if you change your mind and want someone to tour the best hot spring region in Japan with, my schedule is free and clear!”

 

“Thanks,” she laughed, choosing to ignore his not-so-subtle suggestion.

 

Silence fell over them as her forced laughter died away. It was only then that she noticed how close was standing. He was close enough that she could see the rain drops still clinging to the stubble on his cheeks and smell the lingering scent of his cologne. Her eyes met his and there was no subtlety in them. His words were subtle in their suggestiveniess but his eyes...

 

Pulling in a deep breath, she smiled apologetically and took a much needed step back. Disappointment flickered through his gaze but he took the hint and waited until she'd made it half way down the hall before he followed. He caught up to her in the living room and lingered at the door, watching her where she stood in front of the balcony window staring at the city below.

 

“Kagome...”

 

She turned and offered him a watery smile over her shoulder. His feet crossed the distance between them in two strides and he took her gently by the shoudlers. She'd let him hold her a few times at the hospital without complaint, usually after waking up from some horrible nightmare. Tonight she didn't have the strength to push him away. Pushing down the twinge of guilt in her stomach, she turned into his arms and let him hold her.

 

“Hey now… What is it? What's wrong?” he asked, concerned.

 

She shook her head and kept her eyes averted. “I-I…”

 

It was hard to get the words out. They stuck in her throat, refusing to be spoken just on the off chance they held some grain of truth. Wearing a troubled frown, Kouga patiently brushed the tears from her cheeks.

 

“Is this real?” she managed to whisper.

 

“What-?” His expression shifted from concern to confusion.

 

She swallowed a hiccup and tried again, her voice stronger this time. “I mean this - me being here. Is this real, or is it some kind of elaborate illusion my subconscious cooked up and I'm actually lying in a coma in a hospital bed somewhere?”

 

He shook his head and his hand gently squeezed her good shoulder.

 

“Kagome, it's not possible,” he promised.

 

“How can you be sure?”

 

“Because,” he answered simply, “if this was all a figment of your imagination I wouldn't be the one standing here with you.”

 

The truth sobered her features and she looked away from him with a guilty blush staining her cheeks. She didn't speak because to say anything would ruin the shaky balance they'd established, the one that allowed them to be friends without being friends, and close like lovers without being lovers. It was a strange thing they had and even though she couldn't define it, she couldn't stand to lose it either.

 

Uttering a resigned sigh, Kouga hesitated only a moment before closing the distance between them. He pulled her against his chest and held her with his chin gently resting atop her head until the trembles subsided.

 

“Are you going to be okay here by yourself?” he wondered aloud, almost to himself. “I don't feel right leaving you alone.”

 

She sighed before answering in the most convincing tone she could manage, “I'll be fine. I'm a big girl remember? I can take care of myself.”

 

“I know,” he said with a smile pulling at his lips.

 

“I've got a patrol car posted outside. They're going to keep a 24 hour watch on your place until things die down. We don't want to take any chances…”

 

She nodded and tilted her head up to smile at him.

 

“Thank you, Kouga, for everything, really. You've been so good to me these past few weeks. I don't know how I'll ever pay you back.”

 

“You could take me up on my dinner offer,” he shot back without missing a beat. Her mouth twisted into a smirk when she noticed the devious grin on his face.

 

“Just promise me you'll think about it, okay?”

 

“Okay, I promise to think about it.”

 

“Good.”

 

“You headed back to the precinct?” She asked, trying to sound unperturbed as he relinquished his hold and headed for his shoes by the door. She'd never admit it aloud, but she was terrified to be alone.

 

“Nope. I've gotta pick up some evidence for a case I'm working on at 29th Division,” he explained off-handedly while slipping on his shoes.

 

“29th Division?” Her mouth suddenly went dry. An awkward moment of silence passed between them before she could work up the courage to ask the question that'd been plaguing her thoughts.

 

“How's he doing?”

 

“He's fine.”

 

Kouga's response was clipped and she was surprised to see a dark anger simmering in his gaze when he lifted his eyes to hers.

 

Fine…? She was a basket case suffering from post traumatic stress who'd driven herself half-insane wondering if she'd ever hear from him again and he was fine. Well, fuck him.

 

Kouga's anger seemed to have passed as quickly as it'd come. He smiled at her with that charming smile he was so good at, the one the gods had designed to melt women's hearts, and headed for the door.

 

“Give me a call when you've made up your mind on where you want to go for dinner,” he called over his shoulder with a wink before letting himself out.

 

She stared at the door as it drew shut, not quite sure what to think. The confidence he exuded sometimes was just astounding. She wanted to be annoyed that he would just assume that she'd call him, but she couldn't seem to work up the energy. What right did she have to deny him anything, anyway?

 

Uttering a quiet groan of frustration, she made her way to the kitchen and fished out the bottle of merlot hiding in the back of the cupboard next to the stove. Red wine helped her think. It also got her drunker than a sorority girl at a frat house kegger, but right now she needed something to take the edge off. Maybe a glass or two of the red stuff would help her figure a way out of the maze Inuyasha had left her stranded in? Maybe, just maybe, she'd figure out a way to quit him without getting her heart trampled more than it already was.

 

With a fresh glass of red wine in hand, she curled up in the chair closest to the window and stared down at the blinking red light of her answering machine. Two messages. She didn't give herself time to hope one would be from him before she hit `Play'. The obnoxious voice of Asashi Shimbun's Editor suddenly filled her living room, booming out of the small box as though he were hovering right next to her.

 

“Higurashi! Readership is down 5% from last month! FIVE PERCENT! Do you think this is any sort of time to take a vacation? Get your ass back to work! Yesterday!”

 

The machine beeped, announcing the end of the message and with a sigh she deleted it. Same old, same old with him. Oddly enough, the brash venom of his words was somewhat comforting. It made her feel normal again, like she'd never been gone at all. Normal was good.

 

No surprise, message number two was also from her Editor. The tone of this one was a little more, well not exactly compassionate but perhaps more tolerant than the last.

 

“Higurashi! I just heard what happened. Take as much time as you need, but we need you back here. I've got a piece you can work on in the meantime. Send it to me when it's ready…”

 

The rest of the message contained a rambling run down of an arson that'd taken place a couple week's prior and a list of contacts she could get in touch with. She saved it on the machine for later and took a thoughtful sip of wine.

 

It was a softball story, something to ease her back into the swing of things. A distraction was exactly what she needed right now; something to keep her mind off Kouga and Inuyasha and the nightmares that just didn't want to quit. An arson story was perfect.

 

The wine disappeared from her glass in one last sip and went straight to her head. Curled up like a cat, she rested her chin atop her knees and watched the grey rain blanket the city. The weather suited her mood perfectly, she thought smugly.

 

Too tired to do much of anything and too scared to sleep, she settled for sitting in the dark and listening to the sound of rain against the window pane. If someone had asked her five years ago where she saw this momnent in her life, her answer would've been a world away from the truth.

 

This world she was living in now, the one where she came home to an empty apartment and two voice mails, both from her Boss, was a world of her own creation. There was no use getting upset about it and no use trying to deny it, either.

 

Going forward, there were two options in front of her. Option One was to maintain the status quo and continue fumbling through the mess of a life she'd created for herself. Option Two was to make a change. Correction, Option Two was to make a lot of changes and see where they took her.

 

She didn't have time for fear anymore, or pretentiousness, or empty promises - all the things she'd been surviving on until now.

 

Change is good, she promised herself even as his face flashed through her thoughts.

 

First order of business - she grabbed her cell phone off the counter, flipped it open and scrolled through the numbers stored in her address book. The kanji of his name stared up at her from the glowing screen and she considered it a moment before dialing his number. It rang twice before going to voice mail and she found herself hesitating.

 

Change is good. Change is good...

 

She took a deep breath and swallowed down the guilt and fear that had choked her words. It was time for a new beginning. It was time for a new Kagome. What better time than now?

 

“Kouga, it's me… Dinner sounds great.”

 

oOo

 

Kouga kicked open the break room door at the 29th precinct with the toe of his shoe. He wasn't surprised to find the mutt inside, hunched over a cold cup of coffee. With a sly glance he made his way to the cupboard over the sink and retrieved a mug. The coffee looked like it'd been sitting around for a while. After one quick sniff he dumped it down the sink and set about making a fresh pot.

 

“So, Kagome's out of the hospital. Have you talked to her?”

 

He glanced over his shoulder at the mutt's tense posture and hunched shoulders and figured that was answer enough.

With the pot in place and the coffee maker hissing to life, he had time to spare so he took a seat at the table. Takahashi looked up briefly and averted his eyes. He tried to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee but the face he made said he instantly regretted that decision.

 

“Don't worry, I'm making a fresh pot,” Kouga pointed out with a knowing smile.

 

“Thanks.” Takahashi stood abruptly and dumped what was left of his cold coffee down the sink.

 

“You didn't answer my question.”

 

“Hmmm?” Feigning ignorance, he browsed through a stack of newspapers someone had left on the counter.

 

“About Kagome. How's she doing?”

 

“How the hell should I know? Why don't you go visit her if you're so damn concerned about it?”

 

The venom came out of nowhere, but Kouga had expected it. He sat back into the chair and laced his fingers behind his head.

 

“I have. I'm just wondering why you haven't.”

 

He watched the mutt carefully, noting the way his fingers halted from turning the pages of the newspaper in front of him.

 

“How's she doing?” he asked quietly.

 

Kouga sighed and sat forward, feeling more frustrated as the minutes ticked by. The coffee pot was gurgling loudly now, nearly done its cycle. He could already imagine the soothing warmth of the hot java between his hands, and in his throat as it traveled down. But a hot cup of coffee wasn't the reason he'd come here. His eyes narrowed at the mutt's back.

 

“As well as can be expected. She's wondering why you haven't come to visit her. She thinks you blame her for Kikyou's death. She thinks you can't stand to look at her.”

 

That got his attention. Takahashi whipped around, his expression a mix of fury and horror.

 

“She said that?”

 

Seeing Kagome's pain hiding so close to the surface today hadn't been easy for him. Knowing that the mutt's usual selfishness had hurt her, yet again, made him want to slug the bastard in the face until he bled out of every orifice. Instead he was careful to keep his voice even and his expression schooled when he replied, “She didn't have to.”

 

The mutt seemed to internalize that and slowly returned to his seat at the table.

 

“You're really gonna let a woman like that walk out of your life?”

 

When he didn't answer, he spat, “You're a fucking moron.”

 

Takahashi lifted his head just enough to level a scowl at him. “I don't remember asking your advice, or your opinion,” he growled. “Besides, it's none of your goddamn business anyway so stay out of it.”

 

Kouga stood slowly and brought his coffee cup with him to the machine. He shook his head as he lifted the steaming pot off the burner and filled his cup. After taking a test sip he opened a packet of sugar and dumped it in, stirring it around with a spoon.

 

“None of my goddamn business huh?” he mused with a soft chuckle. He made his way to the door and paused, his hand lingering on the handle.

 

“Well, I'm taking her to dinner tomorrow night so maybe it is my business.”

 

He took a well timed sip of his drink, just long enough for his words to sink in.

 

“Maybe you should think about making it yours.”

 

Takahashi's expression made it seem like he'd just swallowed his tongue. His face turned an unhealthy shade of red as his hands slowly clenched into fists atop the table. Just to be certain he drove the point home, Kouga added,

 

“She's a fantastic woman. Any guy I know would be proud to have her on their arm, including me. So I'm giving you fair warning - I'm done waiting. I've made my move. If you want her back I suggest you make yours.”

 

With that he slipped out the door and paused on the other side to have a more thorough taste of his coffee. It was perfect, not too sweet with just the right amount of bite - exactly the way he liked it.

 

From inside the break room the sound of ceramic shattering reached his ears, no doubt the mutt's mug meeting an untimely end against the wall. He hid a secretive smile with another sip from his cup and casually eased a hand into his pocket.

 

Takahashi was a great cop, but sometimes he was so damn predictable.

 

Author's Note: Talk about a hiatus... I hope you guys liked this chapter! It went through a few different revisions before it felt good enough to post.

 

I know this isn't exactly a plot heavy chapter, it's more of a go-between to set the scene for what's to come. The main plot is slowly going to be worked into the next few chapters in more obvious ways. Though there's hints of what's to come in this one, only you won't realize it just yet :)

 

I'm moving to Japan at the end of this week so I'm not sure when my next update will be since access to internet is questionable at this point, but I'm hoping it won't be a long wait. I've got so many ideas I want to get out for you guys so keep your fingers crossed for me!

 

Any thoughts/recommendations/criticisms you want to send my way, please do. It's been a long while since I've heard anything from my ever faithful readers.

 

Much love,

Langus

 

Selected Listening

Astral Weeks - Van Morrison

Back in Your Head - Tegan & Sara

A Fine Frenzy - Near to You