InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Soliloquy in Adagio ❯ Lonely is Gorgeous ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter 2

Lonely is Gorgeous

 

Every May, my family would go on a picnic to the beach, a nearby park, anywhere tranquil and cheering. For most of my life, I hated these events. I thought of the all the fancy dishes my mother would prepare—standing all morning in the kitchen until she practically rooted herself to the floorboards. And I thought of my sister. I always thought of my sister.

 

Tokyo, Japan: Past

 

I remember the day he came by my school, but I can't remember the reason (excuse) he used. He drove by in his shiny, new silver car and almost skidded to a stop. A few of my classmates shrieked in fear and excitement, and a few of the girls emitted high giggles. Sango rolled her eyes and looked at me knowingly. I knew what she was thinking. It was fleeting across my mind too, only I had the sense not to show it. She glared at him viciously through slit-eyes and hissed when he stepped out of the car. Subconsciously, Sango clutched at my arm and pulled me slightly behind her, protecting me.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, “This is a closed campus school. Get out.”

 

“Sango,” I said quietly. I was scared for her. He wanted to strangle her.

 

“I own half of the school.”

 

“Liar.”

 

He smiled, a challenge. “What's your name?”

 

“None of your business. What do you want with Rin?”

 

“That's not you concern. Rin, let's go.”

 

Sango tugged at my arm and I let her drag me, hanging loosely like a trailed off word or piece of cloth. Eventually, my feet found a rhythm of their own and I started walking, stepping alongside her in perfect synchrony. We were like two peas in a pod, inseparable.

 

But when I glanced over my shoulder—at Sesshoumaru, half out of curiosity and half out of fear—I saw the strangest expression painted across his face. It was something between anxiety and amusement. And I knew he was staring right at me too. And none of us could look away. There was a magnetic string tying us together, so that we couldn't even rotate our necks.

 

“Sango, Sango. Slow down.”

 

“Hurry up. I don't want that lunatic following us around.”

 

“He's not a lunatic, Sango. He's just…Kagome's boyfriend.”

 

“What? Kagome is going out with a cold prick like that?”

 

“Well, he is rich and has nice hair. So I guess he has some redeeming qualities.”

 

“She's got a taste for youkai, doesn't she?”

 

I laughed. “Some would call that flirting with danger.”

 

“Or with the enemy.” Sango winked.

 

“He's not that bad.”

“How do you know?”

 

“I don't. But from the few conversations we've had, I don't think he's a maniac or anything.”

 

“But he's a youkai. They're unpredictable.”

 

“So what? Kagome's the one going out with him. What do I care.”

 

“No, but you like his brother.”

 

I blushed furiously and punched Sango lightly in the arm. “Shut up. I do not.”

 

“Sure. Then what was all those looks and signals you guys were sending each other at lunch today?”

 

“Oh give it a rest.”

 

I gave Sango a quick hug and entered the lobby doors of my apartment building. Sango was still laughing ridiculously loudly even from half a block down. I shook my head and walked in, greeted the smiling doorman (an old gentleman in his seventies) and checked for mail. Nothing but junk and bills. Scooping them up into my arms, I slammed against the elevator button with a bony shoulder.

 

The floors had obviously been cleaned only half an hour ago because as soon as I stepped inside, I could feel my feet slipping. Panicked and desperate to hold on, I grabbed someone next to me, not bothering to look up at his face. My hands searched for purchase on his expensive suit, but I could still barely stand up. My back ached from the heavy books and my arms were hindered by the envelopes and catalogues. The man held my arm and eased me into a stable position. I inhaled sharply to calm my nerves (and think of an appropriate, not-embarrassing way to say thanks) when my nose caught the familiar scent.

 

“Sesshoumaru,” I said disdainfully.

 

“Rin. You seem to have a habit of falling.”

 

“Maybe only around you.”

 

“Or you're just clumsy.”

 

“Ouch. That really wounded me.”

 

I straightened myself up, smoothed out the pleats of my skirt, and hoisted the straps of my bag higher. And then squared my shoulders and looked at him directly in the eye (which was harder done than said given his intimidating glare and our height difference).

 

“We seem to run into each other unexpectedly,” he said suddenly.

 

“What? Oh yeah. I guess so. Some might call that stalking.”

 

I grinned. He did not.

 

Sesshoumaru frowned heavily and brushed past me without another word when the elevator stopped. Typical. I should have known. He was there to see Kagome. But why did he go down just to come up again?

 

“Hey, why are you here anyway? I thought Kagome called you already this morning to cancel your date or something.”

 

“I was looking for you.”

 

“For me?” I asked incredulously.

 

“Yes.”

 

“But why were you—”

 

My question was interrupted as Mama swung open the door and pulled me in. She kissed my cheek and pushed me inside the house and ushered for Sesshoumaru to enter too (much to my displeasure). He stepped inside lightly like a cat and examined the hallway. Not once did his expression change. I was beginning to think he was made of granite—at least the muscles around his mouth.

 

“Welcome, Sesshoumaru,” Mama said cheerily, “Are you here to see Kagome? She's not home right now, unfortunately. I'll tell her that you stopped by.”

 

“I'm here to see Rin, actually.”

 

Mama and I both jumped in surprise. I stared at him, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

 

“Really? What-what for?” Mama asked hesitantly.

 

“She left this in my car last week.”

 

He proffered forth my sequined purse (the one with tiny seed pearls, on loan from my mother). I blushed from embarrassment and reached for it. He side-stepped at the last second, and I nearly stumbled to the ground. I caught myself and spun around to yell. The indignation was eating away at me. I didn't care how important he was or that he was in fact my sister's boyfriend. I was simply pissed off.

 

“Hey! What was that for.”

 

“You tripped; no need to shout at others.”

 

“No. You made me trip. I could've broken my neck!”

 

“Don't be so melodramatic.”

 

“Mama!”

 

“Oh hush, Rin. Don't blame other people for your own clumsiness.”

 

“But, I—”

 

Mama turned her attention towards Sesshoumaru. “Thank you very much for returning this. You shouldn't have gone out of your way.”

 

“Not at all.”

 

Still furious, I responded bitingly, “Yes. Maybe you should go now. Best not to wear out your welcome!”

 

“Rin!” Mama scolded.

 

“Watch it, human. Your manners will be the death of you.”

 

“Is that a threat?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I shot daggers into his back as he walked out the door as silent as a ghost. I hated him. I hated him so much: the way he mocked, how he talked, everything about him. And I especially hated how I couldn't do anything to stop him from worming his way into my family.

 

Tokyo, Japan: Present

 

Kagome stopped by for a visit today. I was rather unprepared for that (my hair tangled in a nest and my hands shaking from sleep deprivation and overdoses on painkillers and caffeine). She didn't exactly barge inside but wasn't gentle about her entrance either. She tsked and studied every detail of my deplorable housekeeping abilities and declared my apartment to be in shambles. I sighed and shoved past her to get the kettle before we drowned in boiling water.

 

It was a hot, humid May day. And I was no mood for any of her usual antics or tiresome optimism. Mama had already stopped by that morning, with baskets and containers of ready-made, nutritious meals. I thanked her listlessly and stashed them away inside the fridge (no doubt, I'll eat none of it). These days, I usually forgot that to survive, you needed to eat. The doctors were condescending about my eating habits, which they had every right to do so. But I had no appetite, and no matter how much they coaxed or how much I tried, it made no difference.

 

Sango—who also stopped by after Mama left to inquire on my decisions of penning down a memoir—noted that it was probably a phase. I agreed, to some extent. I've always been thin to the point of being severely underweight. But usually, nothing fatal came out of it. Just one of those phases, you know. Everyone had “anorexic phases”. I was just going through my hundredth one.

 

“Rin,” Kagome started, “Have you…”

 

I immediately knew where she was going with this. This was the tone she used in discussing “him”.

 

“No I haven't. I don't have time, Kagome.”

 

“Well, you should. He wants to talk to you.”

 

“How would you know that?”

 

“He and Inuyasha talked about it last night.”

 

“That's a shocker. I thought they weren't on speaking terms.”

 

“Usually no, but you've sort of pushed them to reconcile…some what.”

 

“Ha, that's funny. Me? Push him into doing anything?”

 

“He's, umm, concerned about you.”

 

She bit down on her lower lip and gave it a little nibble. It was her tell-tale sign of lying. She was a horrible liar.

 

“Then why doesn't he call me himself?”

 

“He's ah…frightened of your reaction.”

 

At this, I couldn't stop but giggle. The notion was absurd. For as long as I have known him, which had been all too long, Sesshoumaru was never frightened of anything. Least of all a human girl.

 

“Now, that is priceless. You're a real comedian today, Kagome.”

 

“Oh stop it. Say, why don't you stay with me and Inuyasha for a while? Just until you stop looking like death.”

 

“That's sweet of you. No thank you. I'm still alive, aren't I?”

 

“I know. But it'd be better for everyone, especially you. It won't be permanent.”

 

I sighed, “No it's okay. Really.”

 

“If you insist.”

 

I nodded, determined.

 

I was tired of people thinking of me as fragile and sickly. Sickly, maybe, but not fragile. I knew that they had good intentions and I was being a baby whining and bitching about it. But I was frustrated. Angry. Mad beyond grief. And just a bit envious too. Of Kagome, of Sango, of everyone who I knew with content lives and a set future.

 

I coughed, my lungs lurching around and throwing my body into a fit. Kagome rushed to get me a glass of water. When she returned, I hoarsely whispered a thank you. She sighed and gave me a small hug.

 

Deep inside, I wanted to thank her and apologize for all our stupid feuds and fights. And especially explain to her that I really don't mind she stole Inuyasha from me. Because I stole Sesshoumaru from her. So it had been a fair trade, on her part. As for me, I still kick myself every time I remember the events that led up to the (inevitable) exchange.

 

Ooo

 

A week later, I received a call that I would rather not have. In the most ungodly hour of the night, the phone rang, jolting me awake. I reached groggily for it and snapped into the speaker. Sesshoumaru's apathetic voice greeted me.

 

“Oh great. What the hell do you want?”

 

“Don't you ever pick up your phone?”

 

“I'm talking to you now.”

 

He was silent for a moment. I thought I heard a low hiss from the other end, but that might have been a dream. And when he spoke again, I knew I was running head-long into disaster. I had been ever since the day he proposed to my sister.

 

Tokyo, Japan: Past

 

Inuyasha quickly became notorious (but popularly so) in school. He was infamous for his wild parties; mostly due to the lack of parental supervision at his house, or mansion should I say. His father and mother didn't particularly care what he did as long as the police didn't arrive to arrest someone. The only instances he seemed to be tame were when his brother was home visiting. And those happened to be the nights he threw the craziest parties.

 

As one of the first people he was introduced to upon his arrival, I was invited much to my disconcertion and excitement. Sango, attractive and fearless as she was, agreed to go in a hearbeat. And as soon as Sango said yes, Miroku jumped in half a second afterwards.

 

I had no clue as to what occurred at one of these parties, and I confessed so to Sango. She grinned mischievously and told me to meet her by the front gates after school. We would then go to her house to “prepare”. I was perplexed. Why would any preparation take hours to accomplish? It was just a party. What else? But I gave consent and slipped the note deftly into her hands before our history teacher noticed anything.

 

“Come on, Rin!” Sango tossed skirts and shirts and cosmetics and accessories at me.

 

I was barely able to catch them before she draped a slinky silk dress over my arms. I piled them onto her already sagging bed (there was a whole department store on it) before sinking my fatigued body onto a nearby chair. My legs quivered from standing so long and my arms were about to fall off. But Sango was nowhere near satisfied or placated.

 

She pulled me up, twirled me around, and made visual measurements of my bust, waist, and hips. She mumbled incoherent numbers to herself and searched through the piles for miscellaneous items. When she emerged, she held a tight-fitting skirt and matching shirt set. From where I was standing, I could see the ensemble consisted mostly of lace and some sort of white cloth material.

 

I shook my head staunchly. There was no way I could bring myself to wear that outfit.

 

“Don't be a wimp, Rin. It's not that bad. It's really cute. No skin shows…not really.”

 

“But it's so…tight.”

 

“What? It's not like you have much of a chest anyway.”

 

I blushed. “Thanks, Sango. That's nice of you.”

 

“Just a joke. Hey, try it on. It's pretty, and I know how much you love lace.”

 

“That's true,” I said slowly.

 

She made small loops around the room while undulating the skirt, forcing it to dance as the wind from the window blew through it. It did look rather pretty. Really pretty. Downright beautiful. I couldn't resist. I took the skirt and top and slid it over my legs.

 

“Rin, you look hot,” Sango said.

 

I jiggled my hips (for effect) and leapt onto her bed. Sango pounced on me and began to tickle me all over.

 

“Just watch! This party is going to be the talk of the year. Miroku's always telling me how awesome Inuyasha's parties are. And to think that we'll be going to one tonight!”

 

“And no parents?”

 

She grinned big and wide. “Nope. Well, his stupid brother will be there. But who cares? He's like thirty or whatever. Inuyasha said that as long as we stay out of his way, he's not going to kick us out.”

 

I gulped. Inuyasha's brother. That meant.

 

I groaned loudly. “Not him again.”

 

“Oh yeah, you don't like him right?”

 

“Scared is more like it,” I mumbled into Sango's soft hair.

 

“Then I'll just have to be your guard tonight.”

 

I looked at her. Her eyes were shifting slyly. “What do you mean?”

 

“You'll see!”

 

And off she ran, dashing into the bathroom, no doubt for more of what they called lipstick.

 

I breathed in even beats. Calm down. There was nothing to it. So what if the asshole was going to be there too? He was only going to be in the same house. It's not like I'll bump into him.

 

Inhale and exhale. Breathe Rin, I commanded myself.

 

I had a litany of excuses to say if I accidentally encounter Sesshoumaru on the way to the bathroom or something. I'll just say that I got lost, anything. Just to make it clear that I was not getting underfoot or whatever. But if I could help it, I wouldn't even run into him at all. There was no need to underscore the night I spent as his date. I shuddered even though it was relatively warm. My skin crawled with something unpleasant, like a million ants making their way up to my skull. No. Stop it. Nothing will go wrong. Like Sango said, I am here to enjoy myself.

 

Right.

 

I heard Inuyasha's house before actually seeing it. But when I opened Miroku's car door (he had been kind and lecherous enough to pick us up) I gaped at the size. It was anywhere from a small palace to an enormous manor. Music blasted from all angles and corners, and lights illuminated the entire street, which was part of the Taishou estate. The décor was elegant, ranging from imported, expensive masonry on the exterior to overly polished modern chic designs inside. Mrs. Taishou must have an artistic touch. Even the furniture seemed to move with fluidity. The floors were almost too beautiful to step on. And there were teenagers spilling beer and various soda onto the marble.

 

I grimaced. Inuyasha noticed and laughed. I stuck out my tongue but smiled and thanked him for inviting us.

 

“No problem. Have fun.”

 

Sango grabbed my wrist and pushed our way into the middle of the crowd. She flashed her eyes around like a predator, and masterfully spotted her prey: the hapless traveling monk (or not so luckless as it turned out). After Sango drifted away, I vacillated between the urge to leave and sit in a corner and survey the commotion. People-watching had always been one of my horrid habits and profoundly ingrained passions. I was an expert at it. People never noticed even when I had been observing them for hours.

 

I saw a girl (sixteen-years-old, one of Inuyasha's acquaintances and a classmate of mine) making out with her boyfriend of two months. He was a fantastic athlete who dominated the tennis courts. Another couple was cuddling together on a couch. And numerous, far too many to count and describe, were dancing. I yawned and checked my watch. It was only twelve. No signs of Sango. Meaning no signs of Miroku or getting home. My legs began to fall asleep, so I stood and walked around to stretch the numbness away. I stepped over a boy passed out from too much booze (dehydration, my doctor-mind commented) and another one yelling loudly into his cell phone.

 

Partially out of boredom and partially out of curiosity, I decided to explore Inuyasha's house. The party was in one of the living rooms, and just outside it was a towering spiral staircase. I walked up (crept more like) cautiously. Beautiful Impressionist paintings lined themselves perfectly along the walls, each an equal distant apart from the next. This house was amazing. Upstairs, the marble turned to sanded, glazed wooden floors. I had to be careful not to slip from the recently applied wax. The stiletto shoes Sango supplied me with were difficult enough to manage without the extraneous factor of gloss.

 

Gradually I made my way down the hall, not daring to peek inside any of the bedrooms. Except for the third one to the right. Its door stood slightly ajar, and my naturally inquisitive nature ordered my feet inside. My hand found its way to the doorknob and turned the brass handle. I walked in and blindly searched for a light-switch.

 

“Gotcha,” I whispered.

 

And when the lights flicked on, the room came to life.

 

The entire floor was covered in a lush, bouncy, white carpet with an enormous canopy bed in the center. A deep-red wood desk stood to one side while bookshelves lined the other wall. A window faced against the door, leading to a balcony. I moved towards the window like I was caught in a trance.

 

There was something glittering next to the table by the window, a piece of glass—I thought. Upon closer investigation, the glass transformed into a silver picture frame. Small and dainty with wrought flowers and ivy vines serving as borders. I held it against the moonlight and gasped. The woman in the picture.

 

It was me. Or someone who looked like me.

 

“Having fun?”

 

I quickly put the frame back and turned to face the voice.

 

Sesshoumaru.

 

“What? Oh no. Nothing.”

 

“Snooping around. You're just as insufferable as the other humans.”

 

“No, I wasn't. I just got lost. I-I was looking for the bathroom.”

 

He cocked a silver eyebrow. “The one across the hall.”

 

“I must've missed it. It was dark.”

 

“There was a sign.”

 

“I guess I just didn't see it.”

 

“Stupid and nosy. Extraordinary how you've managed to survive this long.”

 

My cheeks flared. “Go away.”

 

“Not likely. You're in my bedroom.”

 

“Oh. Sorry.”

 

“So you get out.”

 

“Fine. Just tell me this: who was that woman in the picture?” I indicated towards the mysterious photograph.

 

“None of your concern. Go.”

 

“She…she looks like me. Do I know her?”

 

He narrowed in, his nose nearly touching mine. I shivered and moved back till my legs hit against the soft sheets. They buckled and I collided against the mattress. Sesshoumaru pushed my shoulders into the bed and straddled my legs with his.

 

“What-what are you doing?” I asked.

 

He didn't answer, only leaned closer. My skirt was riding up (what was his hand doing on my thigh?) and I couldn't breathe. I took in sharp, harsh gasps of air and struggled against his arms. He strengthened his grip.

 

“Stop.”

 

His hand was going higher.

 

He smiled brutally. “What's wrong? Are you scared?”

 

“Yes,” I admitted grudgingly.

 

“Good.”

 

He pulled at the skirt more and more, and started lifting my shirt. I tried to speak or scream but no sound came out.

 

“This is not right. You're dating Kagome.”

 

“Shouldn't you be more disturbed about yourself?”

 

“No. You won't do anything to me.”

 

“We'll see about that.”

 

His hand was on my left breast. My skirt was already completely hitched up. And his other hand stroked the inside of my thigh.

 

“I said stop!”

 

He did.

 

I turned away, trying to stabilize my breathing. Sesshoumaru released his hold and brushed the damp hair out of my face. I twisted my neck trying to get away. And then his lips touched mine.

 

Tokyo, Japan: Present

 

My mother pulled back the canary yellow curtains and pushed back the windows. Hard. She lifted my blankets and tossed a sunny dress at me. I groaned sleepily and faced away from her and the lurid streams of light. She sighed and shook me awake.

 

“Mother, please, what do you want?”

 

“Get up, Rin. We're going to the park today.”

 

“We. As in.”

 

“You, me, Kagome, and Souta, of course. So hurry up and get changed. We're all waiting for you.”

 

“Who let you inside the house?”

 

“Spare key, dear.”

 

I frowned at her retreating back. I was not feeling at all happy or willing to go on a family picnic. We hadn't been on one (together and glad about it) since Grandpa died. To be honest, we didn't talk much as a family anymore. Just some passing words on the phone and the occasional dinner at Mama's house. We were already estranged, but only Kagome and I could sense it.

 

My relationship with my family hadn't always been like this. A long time ago, when I was still in school, we were the quintessential example of a nuclear family. We could've been the picture-perfect poster image you see flashing on television about cozy comforts and familial love. And then things changed. Kagome got a boyfriend, started to deviate from her usual routine, ceased talking to us (me especially). Mama immersed herself in cleaning and maintaining the façade of a still flawless family. Souta began college, discovered the mystifying, alluring world of girls, and stopped coming home every weekend. As for me, I simply grew up.

 

Legs grew skinny and long, arms lanky and sharp. My transition from girlhood to adolescence had been painful. Brimmed to the rim with the throes of teenage angst and a wolf at the door. All these years later, even after I was married to the wolf, I still couldn't forgive him. He came into our lives suave and dashing and unraveled everything. Leaving me to tie up the loose, frayed threads in the end.

 

“Rin!” Kagome called from the kitchen.

 

I searched for a bra and found no such luck. Eventually, I settled on a camisole (not that I actually required a bra anymore). Haphazardly, I ran a brush through my hair, ripping out messy tangles and smoothing the thin strands into something halfway decent. Kagome catcalled and Souta whistled when I entered. I couldn't remember the last time I wore a dress.

 

“Darling, you look gorgeous,” Kagome said.

 

“If you say so.”

 

“Oh, come on, be a little more perky. Just a bit. It won't kill you, you know.”

 

I sighed and forced up a smile and followed them out the door, taking one of Kagome's wicker baskets. She seemed relieved to have passed on the burden. No kidding, the basket must have weighed at least ten pounds—stuff with food and silverware and whatnot Mama jammed into it. Ahead of me, Mama and Kagome were struggling to hoist the enormous baskets into the car trunk. I giggled. Aside from Souta, the other members of my family (including me) were petite and willowy. One of Mama's favorite stories to tell, though mortifying in the wrong company, is of all the trouble she had when giving birth. She would tell this story in a blithe way, waving her hands, and taking incessant sips from her champagne flute.

 

Her children could recall the story verbatim and visibly winced as she repeated the same tale every New Year's. Recently, Kagome had gained a new appreciation, nodding sympathetically. Souta and I bend over backwards from laughing as she patted Mama on the back and shook her head knowingly.

 

Souta's low voice snapped me out of my daydream, “Hey there, Spaceyhead.”

 

“Hmm? What is it?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Right,” I responded skeptically.

 

“Well, have you talked to him lately?”

 

“What is up with all of you? It's not like my life revolves around the jerk. I think after our last encounter, it's pretty obvious where things stand. He refused both severance papers and even threatened to sue me if I attempted to fax them over again.”

 

“Really? That's a bit insensitive.”

I rolled my eyes. “What do you expect? You've known him for years. You should know what type of person he is. Youkai, all ridiculous.”

 

“Not Inuyasha.”

 

I swallowed at the name. Inuyasha was another touchy subject in the family, but not as taboo as his brother. Inuyasha, I've come to accept over time.

 

“Yeah, well, he's only a hanyou. They're different.”

 

“Hey, do you know which park we're going today?”

 

“No, tell me.”

 

“Sideview Gardens.”

 

I stopped walking. My hands shook, balled up into fists, knuckles turning white. I was all too disgustingly familiar with Sideview Gardens. It was on the outskirts of Tyokyo, a tranquil piece reminiscent of better times. In the summer, white lilies and magnolia petals drifted on the lake where you could rent a boat and go for a ride. And during the winter, there were singers and vendors lined along the lake's edge. Children came from all over the city to play there while their parents chatted, resting their aching feet on stone benches.

 

And in the southwestern corner, beneath a make-shift, miniature Shinto shrine, was an unmarked stone that served as an unmarked grave. Years ago, a dead girl placed it there and promised to visit the man on the anniversary of his death. She kept that promise alive all these years. (She could've killed herself for nearly forgetting.)

 

I walked down the beaten, worn path, and dusted off the granular surface. It felt cold against my fingertips, barren and forbidden. I kneeled down in the grass next to it and sat silently. A gentle breeze blew through my hair, and I thought of that life—what seemed like a thousand years ago.

 

Tokyo, Japan: Past

 

I woke up with bruises covering my back and shoulders. I felt like I had been sleeping on needles and ice. Shivering, I grabbed a blanket and covered my bare shoulders. The room spun and the air was hazy, but I managed to gain focus despite my throbbing head.

 

“Wake up, Rin.”

 

“Huh?” I tossed around trying to clear my sight and saw Inuyasha hovering in the doorway. “Where am I?”

 

“My house, in my brother's room.” He gave me a conniving look. “I won't tell Kagome if you won't. What did you guys do last night?”

 

“I…I don't remember. Nothing. I think I blacked out and when I woke up, it's morning. God! It's morning! Mama is going to kill me!”

 

Inuyasha sat down next to me; his weight lifting me up. I gripped tightly onto his arm for support.

 

“I feel terrible.”

 

“You did have a lot to drink.”

 

“What? No, liar. I didn't drink at all.”

 

He laughed, “Got you.”

 

“I hate you,” I snapped halfheartedly.

 

“Come downstairs, Rin. Get something to eat and I'll drive you home.”

 

“Okay, but first I need to call my mom.”

 

“I already called her. She knows what happened, so don't worry about it.”

 

“I should get going though.”

 

“Yeah, just hang on a sec okay? I'll grab you a change of clothes and some water. You look like hell, you really do.”

 

I tried to stand but my knees were weak and I collapsed. Thank God the bed was right underneath. I still couldn't remember what happened. Everything seemed like a blur, too fast and insane for comprehension. Something had happened, something terrible and tragic. If only I could remember.