InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Strictly Off The Record ❯ Chapter III ( Chapter 3 )

STRICTLY OFF THE RECORD

An Inuyasha Fanfiction by dolphingirl0113

Chapter III

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Damn! Damn! Damn!” Inuyasha glared at his cell phone as he walked down the street, drawing several curious onlookers as he passed, though he didn't even spare them a flick of his ears. “Damn her!” Her, of course, being Kagome, who had just hung up on him for the fourth time that day.

 

In the five hundred plus years he'd been alive, Inuyasha didn't recall ever meeting a woman before who gave him as much trouble as Kagome Higurashi. What the hell was her problem anyway? Most women would give anything to spend time with him, and in those cases they usually had to fight tooth and nail simply to get his autograph. He was offering hours of his time to Kagome free of charge, and the woman simply refused time and again to even consider it!

 

Why had he ever thought she was even remotely similar to Kikyou? The two women couldn't be any more different! Where Kikyou had been calm, poised, and filled with inner grace, Kagome was wild, obnoxious, and loved to pick a fight every time he opened his mouth.

 

“Damn American women,” he grumbled, never having quite adjusted to the forward-thinking mentality of the United States and its people. He'd lived in Japan for the better part of five hundred years, accustomed to women who were generally quiet and reserved (at least in formal situations). Thus when Sesshoumaru had suggested a move to the United States just after Kikyou's death Inuyasha had been shocked. Frankly the first time he'd stumbled across a couple making out on a park bench he nearly fainted in scandalized shock.

 

It wasn't that Japanese women were stupid or meager in their emotions, or weak-minded and desperate for a man to lead their lives...they simply took on a much more passive role in society. That didn't mean that behind closed doors with friends they wouldn't be verbal or passionate, but everything was always much more calculated and based on honor and prestige, and so people (especially women) had to be careful about what they said when and to whom.

 

America couldn't have been more different.

 

Inuyasha had lived through the riots and marches of the 1960s and 1970s, when young men and women had rebelled against their government in any way they could, and he would never forget it. He'd been able to sympathize with the Civil Rights movement of the African American population because he recalled similar persecution in Japan as a hanyou before he'd finally been granted a concealment charm to hide what he was from the world. He'd felt the tug of the American families who lost loved ones in the Vietnam War because his own father had died in a great battle long ago that Inuyasha would always view as meaningless no matter how many times Sesshoumaru spouted the values of honor. And he'd watched, fascinated, as the youth of the country had broken through all the social barriers and restrictions of their parents with the national marketing of such things as “the pill” and the arrival of The Beatles and the birth of rock music.

 

He'd seen it all. And it was because of his move to the United States that Inuyasha had discovered his love of journalism.

 

Watching history unfold before his very eyes and then being horrified by the way it was so inadequately recorded in books, the hanyou had decided to do his best to report what he considered “true history” as it happened, and when Sesshoumaru began his magazine, then simply named Truth, Inuyasha had been one of its key reporters, quickly making a name for himself (or, at least, fake names for himself since it wouldn't do for the world to realize the same man had been reporting for over sixty years without aging a single day physically).

 

He loved it; became addicted to the rush that accompanied uncovering a huge scandal, or the thrill of the hunt for breaking news. He'd always been a no-nonsense personality, even as a pup, so it had been no trouble at all for Inuyasha to slip into the annoying, pestering persona of a hard-hitting reporter. Frankly, sometimes the hanyou felt like he'd lived so long simply to prepare himself for the life of a journalist.

 

Through the decades his name had changed, sometimes his last, sometimes his first, and he'd also adjusted his concealing charm to change his outward appearance as well, sometimes having black hair, others silver, sometimes violet eyes, other times amber. Sesshoumaru had become highly skilled at forging birth certificates, and between the two of them they'd managed to create an entirely false family genealogy dating all the way back to the Feudal Era in Japan so that whenever their competition did background checks there could be no questions or prying into their personal lives beyond what was absolutely necessary.

 

And all of their hard, tedious work paid off.

 

To keep up with the changing of the world, Truth was changed to Reality Check so that it wouldn't lose its appeal to the younger generations, and from the outside it looked like a family business that had been passed down from father to son since the 1950s...but beneath the facade remained the constant that was Sesshoumaru's incredible management skills and Inuyasha's stunning, daring reports. A winning combination, to be sure, since the magazine always broke the top stories first and was renowned for its ability to convey the truth.

 

Mostly.

 

Inuyasha grunted as he continued walking down the street, firmly headed in the direction of Fifth Avenue and a particular book shop, having elected not to take the subway so he could burn off a little more steam before he confronted the confounding Kagome Higurashi in person.

 

Somehow, somewhere along the way, Inuyasha had begun to project his frustration and anger (that had once been directed at himself) towards Kagome, as though she were the one who had been responsible for failing to double-check his facts before his story had been published. So now, each time he saw her, he remembered exactly why he was being forced to run after her like a lovesick, obsessed man, and he hated her for it.

 

It might not have been fair, but it was how Inuyasha's mind worked, and after over five hundred years, he wasn't going to be changing any time soon.

 

His phone vibrated in his hand, and Inuyasha automatically answered it, the customized headpiece for his dog ears clicking to say he'd successfully connected. “Hello?”

 

“Inuyasha! Are you on your way?”

 

“Yes, Miroku.”

 

“Good...Sango and I are working on her as much as we can. Hopefully you'll at least get lunch out of her this time.”

 

The hanyou sighed loudly and looked up at the New York skyscrapers attempting to touch the clouds, the hundreds of windows brightly reflecting the sun of the spring afternoon. “I really wish I didn't have to care.”

 

“I really think you'll like her better if you just give her a chance.”

 

“Keh, not likely. The woman is insufferable.”

 

“So are you.”

 

“Keh!”

 

“Either way, I don't think Sesshoumaru will accept another column like last week's, so Sango and I are your only hope right now of overcoming a horrendous first impression.” He heard Miroku sigh. “Somehow the two of you just got off on the wrong foot, and it is not just her fault, Inuyasha.”

 

“Whatever.” The hanyou knew that was true, but he would never admit it aloud. After all, he probably would have been just a little freaked out if someone had mistakenly called him by the name of a long-dead relative too. Still, that didn't mean Kagome had to hold on to that first meeting the way she was. Her stubborn refusal to have anything to do with him had meant his first column had been 1,500 words of pure, sentimental crap as he discussed the nature of love in a modern world (for lack of anything better to say since his supposed love interest was not cooperating).

 

Inuyasha shuddered again as he recalled the way he'd typed away on his laptop in his small New York flat over the pizza parlor, comparisons to Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City coming to mind just a little too often for his male brain to handle comfortably. It had gotten to the point where if he turned on the television and heard anything even remotely similar to the show's opening song he swore and flipped the channel immediately.

 

Yet another problem, he was sure, that was Kagome's fault. After all, if she'd just accepted his invitations sooner none of it would be an issue. Right?

 

“Are you still there?”

 

“Yeah...and I'll be at the store in like five minutes, so you and that woman had better do your job. I'm really not in the mood for another tongue-lashing.”

 

“I know. Sango and I heard the last one just before she hung up on you. That didn't sound too pretty.”

 

The hanyou growled. “Believe me, it wasn't.”

 

“I don't think I've actually ever heard a woman call you an imbecile before.”

 

“Just talk to her, Miroku!” And this time it was Inuyasha's turn to hang up.

 

 

* * * * *

 

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Kagome crossed her arms and rolled her eyes toward the heavens as she listened to Sango tell her yet again why it would be a good idea for her to go out with Inuyasha Yamamoto. Any more the brunette was not telling Kagome anything new...in fact, she could practically recite the entire list from memory at that point.

 

“Sango, please just let it go,” Kagome finally interrupted as her friend started on approximately number fifteen of her list of reasons.

 

“I will if you'll just give me a good reason why you keep saying no.”

 

“Because he's an arrogant, pompous jerk!”

 

“Maybe you're just not giving him a chance,” Sango pressed. “I mean you've only really seen him in person once, and while I'll admit that didn't exactly go well, it was hardly enough for you to pass judgment on his personality.”

 

Kagome glanced over at Miroku, who was talking to someone quietly on his cell phone, before looking back at Sango's pleading eyes. “Why on earth are the two of you so desperate to have me go out with the guy anyway?”

 

“Well, Miroku wants the two of you to go out because he says Inuyasha has been absolutely devastated by what's happened to his career and needs a change of pace, and I want you go to out, Kagome, because you haven't allowed yourself to go on a date in years.”

 

Narrowing her eyes slightly before sighing again in exasperation, Kagome watched as Miroku hung up his phone and walked back over to join them by the counter. “Just how devastated is he?” Damn her stupid, sympathetic personality! And damn Sango for knowing she could never resist the need to help others!

 

Catching on quickly, Miroku chimed in. “He's absolutely crushed. The man has never been more depressed, Kagome. You have to understand that all of this wasn't his fault...well, it sort of was, but even so, he's still in a lot of pain right now.”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “You're really laying it on thick here, aren't you?”

 

He smiled innocently. Too innocently. “I'm only trying to do what's best for two of my best friends.”

 

Kagome chuckled. “Why do I get the feeling there's something in all of this for you?”

 

He didn't even bat an eye. “Of course there's something in it for me.” Miroku sent Sango a meaningful smile. “While you go off with Inuyasha for a few hours, I get to help Sango run the bookstore.” He moved to put an arm around her waist, but the brunette expertly slapped his hand away.

 

“Keep those where I can see them, Miroku,” she warned, though Kagome didn't miss the way her friend blushed in pleasure at the attention. Those two were hopeless.

 

Just then the bell chimed at the door, and the three friends turned at once to see Inuyasha step into the small store dressed casually in baggy jeans and a red shirt. He looked over at them, and Kagome couldn't help but meet his gaze, feeling her stomach clench at the intensity within his amber eyes. Jerk or not, he was far too sexy for his own good. That had been part of the reason she refused to meet with him; it was a lot easier to remain angry with a man who looked that good when he wasn't right in front of her.

 

“Inuyasha!” Miroku exclaimed happily. “We were just talking about you! What a surprise!”

 

There was something about Miroku's tone that caused Kagome's radar to go up, and she glanced at the violet-eyed man suspiciously for the first time. “Oh yeah,” she grumbled, more to herself than anything. “A big surprise. I don't suppose you had anything to do with this coincidence, did you Miroku?”

 

He gave her one of his notoriously innocent looks that said Of-course-I'm-a-virgin in big bold letters, only confirming for her that he was in whatever was going on so deep he couldn't see the surface any more. “I promise, Kagome, I had nothing to do with it.”

 

“Uh-huh.” She turned and looked at Inuyasha again, her eyes, without her permission, taking in his muscular chest with a certain amount of feminine appreciation. But when she saw him smirk in a self-satisfied manner in response, her hot look immediately cooled. “What do you want, Mr. Yamamoto?”

 

He blinked and looked at her directly. “I've asked you before to call me Inuyasha.”

 

“And I've said I won't call you that until we know each other better.”

 

“Amazing how difficult that is when our conversations are only about two minutes long and usually resulting in you hanging up on me.”

 

“If I hang up on you, Mr. Yamamoto, it's your own fault. I make it a point not to talk with jerks, imbeciles, or idiots on a regular basis.”

 

He growled in response. “You're no picnic yourself, you know that?”

 

Kagome smiled sweetly. “Then why do you keep coming back for more?”

 

Inuyasha wanted to blurt out that if it were up to him he'd just throw her in the river and be done with it, but figured that wouldn't be the best way to achieve his ultimate goal: a civilized lunch. So instead he tried to give her another of his smoldering looks, hoping to gain another appreciative stare from her in response. “Because you intrigue me, Kagome...that's why.” He stepped closer.

 

She just rolled her eyes. “Oh please, put away your macho routine for someone who cares. And I'll save you the trouble of needing it again by going to lunch.”

 

“I...” He trailed off as he realized what she'd just said. “You will?”

 

Kagome walked over and retrieved a light yellow jacket from a rack by the counter, pulling it on over her tan slacks and sleeveless blue turtleneck. “Yes, Mr. Yamamoto, if only so that you'll see you really don't want to come back for more ever again.” She ran a hand through her hair, which fell down her back in a mass of thick waves, and glanced at Sango. “I'll be back in two hours at the most.”

 

“Two hours?” Inuyasha smirked. “You must be expecting a good time then.”

 

She glared at him. “Grow up. You really aren't all that, in spite of what the rest of your adoring public may have told you.”

 

“Keh, whatever.” He followed her to the door and watched as she checked her wallet for cash. “You don't need any money. I'm buying.”

 

“Oh no you're not. The last thing I want is for you to get it into your brain that this is some kind of a date. I'm buying my lunch.”

 

“Damn it, woman, will you just let me pick up the tab?”

 

“No!”

 

“Fine!”

 

The door slammed behind them, though the sounds of their bickering could still be heard for at least another minute, leaving Miroku and Sango to shake their heads in exasperation.

 

* * * * *

 

Thirty minutes later, Kagome decided she was having just about the worst non-date of her life. Once they'd reached the small cafe two blocks down the street from her store, Inuyasha had gone so silent that all they'd done was look at menus and order their food. She was actually dreading when their sandwiches came, because then there would be nothing left between them and the paycheck but actual conversation.

 

Playing with his napkin, which had once resembled a cute little swan but now looked like a deranged slug on the table, Inuyasha finally looked up. “You know, for a woman that never shuts up you've been awfully quiet.”

 

“I've been...?” Kagome sat, stunned, before recovering and finding her own temper again. “Excuse me, but it's hardly my job to fill the air with meaningless conversation, baka, when you're the one who's pursued me up and down the island of Manhattan for nearly two weeks!”

 

“I haven't pursued you up and down the island of Manhattan.”

 

“You've been calling me at least five times every day.”

 

“That's hardly a crime.”

 

She groaned in frustration and took a sip of her water before glancing out the window at the many New Yorkers hurrying about their busy lives. “Why did you ask me to lunch, Mr. Yamamoto? Do you want something? Are you doing an undercover assignment now on little-known bookstores?”

 

“Hardly,” he grunted in reply, but when she narrowed her eyes again he realized he'd have to do something or else the lunch he'd worked so hard for would be over and he would not have gained any material for his column other than ten ways to be insulted by a woman. “Look...Miroku talks about you a lot at work, and I figured I'd like to meet you.”

 

“Because Miroku talks about me?” She looked skeptical, and he couldn't blame her. It was a lame reason and he knew it. Damn it! Why did he have to be so awkward around women? Sure he had adoring fans, but he knew if he actually talked to any of them for more than five minutes they'd decide he wasn't worth their time.

 

“He said you were interested in becoming a writer,” he tried again.

 

“So? I'm sure you have plenty of people ask for your `help' in becoming a better writer.” She glowered over her water glass. “I'm not looking for that kind of help.”

 

It dawned on him what she meant, and Inuyasha nearly spit the beer he'd been drinking all over the table. “Jesus, woman, what kind of person do you think I am?”

 

“The kind that blows a story to spend time with a prostitute.”

 

“It wasn't like that at all!”

 

“Really? So you just make it a habit to hang with the women in the alleys, is that it?”

 

“No!”

 

She leaned across the table. “Then what were you doing there? You said you wanted to explain your side of the story, Mr. Yamamoto...so here I am, ready to listen.” She gestured widely with her arms.

 

Inuyasha sighed and looked down at his beer, not sure what he could, or should, tell her, if anything. He couldn't exactly tell her he'd been speaking with several women who had connections to Kikyou's killers, because then he'd have to explain why he had a personal interest in avenging her great aunt who happened to have died over fifty years ago. Still, he had to offer her something, because for some reason he didn't like the idea that she thought he was...well...that kind of guy.

 

“I was doing research for another story,” he finally said cautiously, watching for her reaction. All she did was raise an eyebrow, though he could tell she wasn't completely writing him off, so he continued. “Let's just say I had a little more personally invested in that one.”

 

“What kind of story would take you into the slums of New York City?” She didn't sound disgusted, just intrigued, like she really wanted to know. He took that as an encouraging sign.

 

“I knew someone who was trapped in the middle of some dangerous stuff a while back; dangerous stuff that eventually got her killed. Ever since I've been looking for a way to expose the men who killed her and bring them to justice, but I've had no leads to go on until a few months ago. I was so excited about it that I kind of blew off my other special on Congress, so when I submitted it to my editors, I trusted them to do a thorough check on the facts before giving it to Sesshoumaru.”

 

“He's your brother, right?”

 

“Half brother, actually.”

 

“Oh.” She appeared thoughtful for a moment. “So I take it your editors didn't check your facts?”

 

He grunted. “Not really, although I suppose I can't really put the blame on them. I'm usually the type that insists on doing all my own work so that by the time they ever see any of my pieces they are so thoroughly checked and re-checked that they could pass a high level background analysis. They probably assumed I'd done the same thing with this story too, but I hadn't really gotten to that stage yet when leads about Kik...my friend's death, were brought to my attention.” He took another sip of his beer. “So there's your first lesson in writing; never become too personally involved in your work, or else you make mistakes.”

 

Kagome actually smiled at that statement, hearing the bitterness in his voice and not doubting for an instant that the man before her had regrets about what he'd done. “Actually, I should think for the kind of writing I want to do, personal attachment is critical.”

 

“Ah...right, you want to be a novelist.”

 

She tried to keep the playful banter going. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

 

He shrugged. “I've just never understood how people could call writing pure fiction every day a living.”

 

“Without stories, our world would be pretty boring.”

 

“I prefer facts to fiction any day.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because facts are real...things I can prove and trust. Fiction is usually made up of fragile thoughts and hopes and ideas...things that can easily disappear in the blink of an eye.”

 

Kagome chuckled. “That's kind of a cynical outlook on life.”

 

Inuyasha just grunted. “I never said I wasn't a cynic. After some of the shit I've seen and uncovered about our world, I'm amazed I haven't completely given up on mankind.”

 

Just then their food arrived, and both greedily dug into their sandwiches for a few minutes of silence, though this time it was a much more comfortable silence that passed between them than before. Kagome couldn't help but think that maybe Miroku had been right, and Inuyasha wasn't so bad after all.

 

“So what are you doing right now?” Kagome finally asked after half her sandwich was gone. “Are you back to working on your hard-hitting stories yet?”

 

“Hardly. Sesshoumaru's a slave driver. He's got me on a kind of probation, and I have no idea when that's going to be lifted.”

 

“But didn't you explain to him why you let the facts slide on your Congress story? How could he not understand about you wanting to bring justice to your dead friend?” There was actually a small amount of anger on his behalf in the tone of her voice, and for the first time Inuyasha wondered if perhaps Kagome's temper wasn't such a bad thing after all...so long as it was directed at someone else.

 

“Well, he takes a lot of pride in the magazine having a perfect record when it comes to printing the truth, and since I kind of blew it, he's more than a little pissed.”

 

“Everyone makes mistakes though,” Kagome continued. “And it's not like you're that old. You shouldn't be expected to be perfect for at least another ten years.”

 

Inuyasha almost laughed aloud at that. If only Kagome knew how old he really was, she'd understand why Sesshoumaru was so pissed off. At his age, Inuyasha should not only be perfect, he should be able to write several stories at once and still get it all right. Still...it felt kind of good to have someone defending him for once (other than Miroku, anyway).

 

No one had really done that since Kikyou.

 

“Yeah, well...” Feeling uncomfortable, Inuyasha decided to change the conversation's direction. “Sesshoumaru is a bastard and always will be. But since I've bared some of my secrets, I think you owe me some facts about you now.”

 

Kagome raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

 

“Yes. Tell me why you decided to run a bookstore, of all things.”

 

“I love reading, always have, and college wasn't for me, so I decided to go into business at a fairly young age in an area that I enjoyed.”

 

“You didn't graduate from college?'

 

“No. I tried, but after two years, I just realized I was beating my head against a stone wall. I guess I'm simply not the type who is meant for a formal education. I prefer learning from life instead.”

 

“Fair enough.” It wasn't like Inuyasha had ever gone to college either, but he wasn't about to tell her that. Those kinds of secrets were best kept for much later in a relationship...if they were ever told at all. And, as he kept reminding himself, his supposed relationship with Kagome was not real; it was all artificial, designed on purpose for the sake of a weekly column in his brother's magazine.

 

Nothing more.

 

“So how did you first get started as a business owner?”

 

“My family helped me open a small bookstore in the town not far from my home. Business was fairly meager there, but I figured it was enough to get by. Still, I wanted to see if I could make it in the big city, so eventually, after about a year, I made a move to a small space down by Central Park.” She shrugged. “It was nice enough since I could literally walk to the park every day for a lunch break in less than five minutes, but when it came to selling books...well...it wasn't the best location. Plus, it didn't help that my store was so small it just sort of got lost between the other, bigger companies over there.”

 

Inuyasha actually found that he was intrigued by what she was telling him. “So how'd you get out of that situation and move on to Fifth Avenue?”

 

Kagome laughed, recalling how she had done everything from posting flyers on car windows to painting a huge sign that sat out on the sidewalk to attract attention, all to get some business. “Well, let's just say I've earned where I am today, and I am damn proud of it, too.”

 

The hanyou chuckled at that as he took the last bite of his sandwich. Kagome Higurashi certainly was, if nothing else, an odd combination of a lot of things he usually never saw in a woman. It was refreshing. “You should be proud. And your parents really weren't upset that you just dropped out of college to start your own business?”

 

Kagome laughed. “No. In fact, I think after my family saw some of the grades I was producing, they were almost grateful they weren't just throwing thousands of dollars at a C-average education.”

 

“So you were one of those students, huh?”

 

“No...in high school, actually, I was an honors student. I was going to Columbia with an academic scholarship and everything.”

 

“You got into Columbia?” He whistled. “I guess you couldn't have been all bad then.”

 

She grinned, but then shook her head wistfully. “I don't know. In high school I'd done well simply so I could get into a top college, but when I got to college I realized I'd applied for all the wrong reasons. I didn't really like school that much, and felt like it was taking me nowhere fast. Since I didn't want to be a doctor or a lawyer or anything that actually required a good eight years of my life, I figured there was no harm in pursuing my dreams through a different road.”

 

It made sense to him, and Inuyasha had to admit he admired the woman for her guts. One thing he'd learned about American culture was that any more anyone without a college education was usually frowned upon, unless they were lucky enough to make millions of dollars through a remote business venture, and then they became the hero of every school-hating kid in the country. Either way, it was definitely the road less traveled, and Kagome seemed to be walking it with an extra bounce in her step.

 

He swirled the beer in his glass thoughtfully.

 

Kikyou hadn't been that way. Frankly, she'd resented anything that made her different from those around her. As a hanyou who had been persecuted simply for existing, Inuyasha had been able to relate to that need to blend in and go unnoticed, and that's what had drawn him to her in the first place. But suddenly he found himself admiring Kagome's fire and courage to be the very thing that neither he nor Kikyou had wanted to be: different.

 

“Hello? Inuyasha? Are you still with me?” Kagome was waving a hand over his face comically to bring him back to reality, and he shook his head to clear it.

 

Damn her for looking so much like her dead aunt! And damn him for not being able to step back enough to make a clear distinction! Why did he insist on making the two women the same, anyway, when they were so obviously different? And...

 

“Hey!” He stopped his thought short. “You just called me Inuyasha.”

 

Kagome opened her eyes a little wider momentarily before a silly grin came to her face. “I guess I did, didn't I?” She groaned as she saw his arrogant smirk return. It had been absent for the last half-hour, and she found she liked the man behind the facade. So much for that.

 

“What happened to refusing to call me by my name?”

 

“You don't have to look like the cat that just caught the canary, you know.” Kagome haughtily sipped the last of her water and pushed away her empty plate, showing she had a generous appetite. “I said I'd call you by your first name when I got to know you a little better. Well, now I do know you better.”

 

“Keh! You were just being stubborn, woman; admit it!”

 

“Okay, maybe I was.” That floored him. “But it worked, didn't it?” She leaned back in her chair. “So...are you still willing to pay for my lunch after all? I think I've changed my mind about that too.”

 

“Does that mean this is a date?”

 

“No...but I realized I'd be stupid not to let you pay. You were nice enough that you've earned the privilege.”

 

“The privilege?” He sputtered before recovering and giving her a mock bow over the table. “Well thank you, madam. You certainly ate enough to make it well worth my wallet's time.”

 

He hadn't meant it as anything but another jibe, but Kagome's back immediately went ramrod straight before she shot out of her chair completely, rattling the table. Dragging her wallet out of her white purse, she pulled out a twenty and slammed it in the center of the table. “Screw you, Inuyasha.” And with that she flounced out the door, leaving him stunned.

 

A waiter came by with the bill a few moments later, and Inuyasha practically snarled at him when asked if he'd like anything else. Slamming down his own cash, he also stormed out of the restaurant in the opposite direction Kagome had taken, wanting to get as far away from her bookstore as he could.

 

He just didn't understand her! They'd been having a fairly decent conversation, and then she had to get all huffy about a stupid, harmless little comment! Granted, Inuyasha knew better than to ever imply that a woman ate too much, but he figured someone with Kagome's figure would shake it off fairly quickly.

 

Obviously he was wrong.

 

It's why he hated women so much. Too damn emotional, confusing, and otherwise infuriating...and just his luck; he knew he'd be calling the emotional ringleader to ask if she'd want to go to the opera tomorrow. Lucky him. Keh! He just hoped Miroku and Sango calmed her down a little before then. He really wasn't in the mood for another tongue-lashing.