InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Siren ❯ Chapter 10 ( Chapter 10 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: Eheh...Yeah, I'm kinda late...But the chap is a bit longer this time, I added a section to what I'd planned, so it kinda makes up for it...Right? Ok, to refresh, I mentioned Tarja Turunen's worst fear, the radio interview, and Tero goes to a Siren performance...Those are there...Also there: Kag's music comp teacher finds out what the heck she's been doing with that final, an entertainment reporter might just get the story of the month, Sess does something somewhat spontaneous, Tero finds out Kag isn't a morning person, the band goes in for preliminary recordings, and they meet their Devil and Pharaoh voice. Whoo- that's a lot of junk...Onward!

Disclaimer: Anything recognized as an entity, trademark, catchphrase, line from a comedian/movie/song, lyrics to a song, or embarassing name from tonight's ep of Inuyasha is hereby disclaimed.

---

Monique was used to theatrics when it came to Kagome. However, this was definitely new. The other woman was moving her mouth frantically, trying to get any sound to come out.

Nothing.

“Maybe you should just let Madam know,” Monique suggested.

Kagome arched an eyebrow at her friend. ‘How exactly?’ she questioned mutely.

The blue-haired mezzo rolled her eyes. “Oi! Madam!”

There was a very undignified groan from somewhere near the door. Moments later, Madam appeared. “You rang?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Monique grinned. “Squeaky here is having some trouble.”

Kagome opened her mouth to protest the name, sure enough, what came out was a, more humorous than indignant, squeak.

“I see,” Madam studied her for a moment. “I want you to rest your voice for three days. No speaking, no singing,” she paused for a moment. “And absolutely no sex.”

The nine girls around them immediately burst into laughter.

‘Thanks, Madam,’ Kagome mouthed sarcastically.

“No need to thank me,” Madam had already turned around. “I suggest you take the rest of the day off. I’m sure your boyfriend misses you.”

Kagome’s only response was to stick out her tongue.

---

‘Damn,’ Kagome pouted. She was currently making her way to the guitar studio to ‘tell’ Inuyasha about the predicament she was in. She knocked on the door.

Seconds later, Julissa opened it. “Oh, hey.”

Kagome smiled, entering the room.

Inuyasha’s ear twitched. There was someone new in the room. He could hear it. But there weren’t any new scents. It was a bit unnerving.

Then it hit him. Sighing, he called, “Take it off, would ya?”

One of the more perverted students suddenly had a coughing fit.

Kagome complied with the ‘request’ and Inuyasha nodded his approval. “Better. Now why are you here?”

There was something that sounded like a cross between a squeak and a sigh behind him and he turned around. She was standing near the whiteboard, pouting, gesturing mutely towards it.

“I don’t care,” he shrugged, giving her permission.

She smiled briefly before writing in large, elegant script, ‘Can’t talk. Lost voice.’

His eyebrows rose. “Overworked?” he asked, smirking.

‘Some use I am. Singer that can’t bloody sing.’

“Could be worse,” he shrugged, ignoring her raised brow and the students’ curious twittering. “Coulda woke up mute.”

‘You jinx me, I kill you.’

“They so love each other,” Meryn feigned dabbing away tears.

Both of the ‘adults’ gave her half-hearted glares.

“Anyway,” the hanyou continued. “How long do you need to rest?”

‘Madam de Sade says three days. “No talking, no singing, and no”’ she stopped abruptly before erasing the last two words. ‘Anyway, three days.’

“’And no’ what?” he grinned broadly when she began to fidget.

‘You don’t want to know,’ she wrote finally. ‘Just drop it, Dogboy. Save your sanity.’

“You really think I’m sane?”

She looked a bit frightened. Quickly, she scratched out the ‘your’ and wrote above it ‘my’ before adding, ‘You sounded like that Jakotsu weirdo.’

Inuyasha kept up the act, “Aw, honey, I’m flattered!”

“Pet names!” Meryn squealed. “They have pet names!”

‘See what you started?’ Kagome wrote, annoyed.

“Me?” he snorted. “You started it!”

---

It was oddly silent in the third floor studio when Miroku arrived.

Then suddenly: “Full house!” Ok, that was Inuyasha…

“That’s not possible!” And that was still Inuyasha.

Miroku opened the door quietly, “Is there something I should know, Inuyasha?”

“Yeah,” the voice came from somewhere near the back of the studio. “Practice is cancelled for at least three days.”

“Family problems?” Miroku asked sympathetically.

“No,” the hanyou was most definitely smirking. “Shorty’s finding out what happens when she talks too much.”

“She kicks your ass at poker?” Miroku ventured, now able to see the pair.

A Royal Flush was sitting pretty in front of a very broadly grinning Kagome.

“That was a fluke,” the cards were now being re-shuffled.

The singer stuck her tongue out in response.

“Don’t stick that out unless you’re prepared to use it,” cards were dealt and the tongue disappeared.

The violet-eyed human grinned, “My friend, I think you’ve been around me too much.”

After a few more games, the trio had agreed to play for stakes: the first to fold buys lunch. Miroku accepted the terms easily; he knew he had a good poker face, and, after playing with Inuyasha for years, he was pretty confident, both in his ability to read the other man and in his ability to mask his own tells.

‘Five, two, seven, four, nine,’ the hanyou looked up from his cards to find Kagome smirking at him. “What?”

The woman merely shook her head.

Twenty minutes later, her wallet was conspicuously lighter. Pouring vinaigrette over her salad, she glanced up at the two men, only to find them wearing identical expressions.

“Rabbit food,” Inuyasha shuddered.

Miroku nodded his agreement.

She smiled brightly and took a bite, loving the way both of them grimaced.

“I sincerely hope this is a business lunch, little brother.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Inuyasha leaned back in his chair to grin at his brother. “Hey, Rin.”

Rin, looking Bohemian as always, grinned at him, “Who suckered whom into this?”

Three fingers immediately pointed in three different directions.

“Thought so,” she took a seat next to Miroku, who got a warning growl from Sesshomaru.

“If this isn’t for business,” Sesshomaru cleared his throat primly, earning him a muted snicker from Kagome. “Why are the three of you here?”

The singer opened her mouth to answer, then, remembering it was no use, shut it.

“Allow me to translate for our verbally challenged friend,” Inuyasha was really enjoying her silence. “Lost a bet.”

“Let me guess,” Rin took a bite of her own salad. “You guys didn’t tell her that you tag-team at poker?”

Miroku had the grace to look affronted; Inuyasha only smirked. Kagome glared at both of them, kicked Miroku under the table, and yanked on Inuyasha’s ear. Hard.

---

Marcelo Ochoa glanced up as soon as he heard the door. He should have known. That ‘exchange student’ Higurashi had brought had insisted on calling someone as soon as he heard the plan for the class and, from the looks of it, they’d arrived. He turned back to his list. Just in time too, the girl was next.

“Marcelo,” the voice of an old friend came from over his shoulder, along with the rustle of fabric as the man sat down.

“Tai,” he greeted calmly. “I must confess, I wasn’t expecting him to call you.”

“He didn’t. He called my son.”

“Any idea why?”

“Sess’s label recently signed her. Yash and a few of her friends make up the rest of the band. From what I can gather, our phone-happy friend is a cousin of hers determined to help,” he could almost hear his friend shrug. “Who knows why he called.”

Ochoa nodded, then signaled to James, his TA. “She’s one of my more ambitious students. She has a tendency to get very upset when things go wrong.”

“Don’t we all,” Tai mumbled.

“Yes sir?” James had arrived, Ochoa noted, slightly annoyed. It wasn’t that he disliked the boy; the poor kid simply tried too hard.

“Fetch Higurashi, would you?” instantly James was gone. Marcelo turned to face his friend. “I must thank you though. If she hadn’t been so frustrated with that damn note she’d never have gotten around to writing her own music.”

“’There’s no reason for a note to be that high!’” the other man quoted his former student. “Cerise tells me she’s one of her prized students, though.”

“Cerise has her now?” Ochoa shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if that girl’s a masochist.”

“Which one?” Tai quipped.

There was a huge rustling of paper followed by a sudden thud and a short bout of rather vigorous cursing in three languages.

“That score sounds rather heavy, Miss Higurashi,” the Composition professor remarked. “I believe I requested a single piece, not an opera.”

“My muse ran away with my pen, sir,” the student replied, carefully restacking the hundreds of copies of the score. “And I assure you that there are no ‘virtuoso arias’.”

“Pity,” Tai grinned. “I rather liked that High E.”

Passing out copies of the music to the orchestra and choir, the singer shuddered. “If Webber weren’t such a musical genius, I’d tell him to rot in hell.”

Several snickers could be heard, along with a gasped, “Seija!” She ignored them. Walking to her professor, she held out a three-ring binder, “And your copy.”

“Miss Higurashi,” Marcelo began, idly paging through the binder’s contents. “I believe I told you it wasn’t necessary to have everything finished by today.”

“It’s not finished,” Kagome grinned broadly, already walking back to the front of the room. “I’m still missing the keys, drums, bass, and guitar.”

“You scare me, child.”

“Alright!” The petite woman suddenly looked very commanding. “Let’s begin with the orchestra. Time signature, starting key, tempo and any key or tempo changes are already there. Vibraphone, Strings, you come in instantly. Strings pianissimo until timpani-“

She ran through the somewhat complicated score with them before allowing the conductor to take over. Moving to stand by the choir, she told the singers to pay attention to the tempo and any of its changes. She remained at that post for the duration of the first two run-throughs, occasionally calling out such cues to the choir as “My fall!”, or “Take me!”, the second of which her cousin found terribly amusing.

If her music was anything to go by, Marcelo was right. She was terribly ambitious. The music was split into distinct sections, each with it’s own ‘flavor’ but all with an overall bombastic, yet longing, tone. It was similar to a film score, albeit a ten-minute one.

When the orchestra was finished with it’s second sight-read, Kagome gleefully told them to take a break.

Turning to the choir, she announced, “Our turn!”

An alto timidly raised a hand, “What do you mean ‘our’ turn?”

“You have all of the lyrics on the inside cover of your copy, right?” the songstress looked panicked. At the choir’s murmurs of assent, she heaved an overdramatic sigh of relief. “God, I thought I’d gone blond again. What I mean is that I’m not going to sit back and worry about things going wrong. What isn’t in your music for you to sing, I’m singing. Mr. Ochoa can confirm that, he has the full lyrical score. If anyone’s screwing up a solo, it’s gonna be me.”

There were a few snickers at that.

“Alrighty,” there was a huge grin on her face now. “Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? Everybody, please note that there is a key and time signature on every line, any changes are obvious if you keep track of that. First section: staccato. You are not saying ‘ah’; there’s no doctor with a tongue depressor here. It’s more an exhalation; a sharp ‘ha’. Note the later switch to legato-“

After she’d given a brief overview of each section, she said, “We’re going to sight read it, I’m going to take the verses, I’ll cue you as to your part. No one freak on the chorus, I’ll be singing over you.”

One of the cheekier tenors piped up, “That would be that ‘dying cat’ sound, right?”

There was a rather vituperative burst of Finnish from somewhere to Tai’s left.

“From the top,” Kagome smiled, as if she hadn’t heard a thing.

The choir was harmonized well, and Kagome had gone for more restrained, pop-style vocals so as not to draw too much attention. The lyrics sounded like the usual romantic drivel to Inutaisho…Until they got to the chorus. For some reason, the crooning of ‘My fall will be for you’ over the lines ‘If you be the one to cut me, Somehow I’ll bleed forever’ didn’t quite sit well with him.

That didn’t bother Tero, however. He was quite enjoying everything…Up to the formerly amusing ‘Take me’ bit.

“Take me! Cure me!” the choir chanted. “Kill me! Bring me home! Every way! Every day! Just another loop in the hangman’s noose-“

Just because she’d strayed from the operatic didn’t mean Kagome’d strayed from drama. Her nearly distraught voice echoing the choir’s pleas was somewhat chilling and her own cry of “Forgive the adoring beast!” was nearly heart wrenching.

Marcelo, however, was more unsettled by the subtle shift at the end. Sure, there was still the angelic croon of ‘My fall will be for you’, they choir was still chanting in the same rhythm, but the words had changed.

“My fall will be for you,” the choir announced. “My love will be in you, You were the one to cut me, So now I’ll bleed forever-“

Both of the older men were startled when Tero dropped into the seat next to Tai. “I don’t understand her,” the Finn declared.

“Is, uh,” Tai began. “Is everything alright? With her?”

“She’s as happy as I’ve seen her in a long while,” the young man smiled slightly, shrugging. “But with her- everything she writes is either autobiographical or inspired by a book. I’m rather hoping this is the latter.”

---

‘Ooooh, Kagome’s gonna kill me,’ Sango sang delightedly in her head. Really though, Kagome needed to learn that putting her diary on top of her desk was not ‘hiding’ it.

Honestly, who could blame her? Her best friend had been mute for three days; of course she wanted to know what was going on in her head.Wednesday-

I was right. He does have a nice smile. It’s not a ‘Million-watt light up the room’ smile, but it’s cute. Not that I’m really waiting for him to smile again. It isn’t like it’s the be-all-end-all of my existence. It’s just…Kinda sexy.

Agh! I did not just write that!

Sango managed to smother a grin. Kagome was really adorable when she was boy-crazy.

Alright, enough fawning. He’s an arrogant ass anyway…Speaking of asses…Oh, I cannot believe my brain right now…

Anyway, Tero, little twit that he is, has the bright idea for me to scream in one of the tracks. And not the ‘Omigod a monster!’ scream either. Full out, high E wail.

And the rest of the guys? They’re going along with it!

I oughta do it and break glass…That’d teach-

“Sango?” Kagome called, fully enjoying being able to use her voice.

The diary was shut and replaced quickly. “Over here!”

“Ready to go?” the younger woman craned her neck around the doorframe, grinning.

“Definitely,” Sango smiled back. “And you better be prepared for hugs when you get there. Tyson’s been going nuts.”

---

Sango was right. Tyson was going bonkers. He’d hugged her when she came in, then, five minutes later, asked when she showed up and hugged her again. He was about to hug her a third time when she asked what was on the agenda for the night.

“Agenda?” he blinked. “We have one of those?”

Kagome smiled, “Got it.”

---

Jenna, the part-time bartender, raised an eyebrow at the onyx-haired woman in front of her. “Run that by me again?”

Kagome sighed. “Three beers, one scotch on the rocks, one order of ramen, two burgers, two fries, two cokes, one water, one coffee, a screwdriver, and a lemonade.”

“That it?” Kelly, the cook for the night asked.

“Pretty sure.”

“I’ll have that right out,” she disappeared into the kitchen.

Around five minutes later, Kagome was on her way back to the table. She’d just finished setting the drinks down when Tero suddenly got a wicked grin.

“Seija,” he sing-songed. “I’ve never…Dyed my hair.”

Kagome affected a blank look, picked up her father’s coffee and choked down a swig. Inuyasha had to smother a laugh when she made a very interesting face.

“I hate you,” she sputtered, running off to find a drink of water.

Half the table seemed to remember something either amusing or disturbing, while the other half remained clueless.

Inuyasha turned to his father, who seemed to know what that was all about, “Do we really want to know?”

Inutaisho shrugged. “Well-“ something suddenly made him cringe, “No. Not really, no.”

Miroku turned to Kouga, “Odd colors?”

“Yeah.”

Kagura smacked her boyfriend on the arm. “You’re one to talk, Mister Blue-hair.”

“Yours was purple!” Kouga defended, rubbing his arm. “And spiked!”

---

Immediately after Andrew Vaughn had finished his meal, he began to hear the whispers. At first, it was one or two murmurs of ‘Where is she?’ that soon rose in volume to a busy hum. The entertainment reporter glanced around.

“’Who is she?’ would be a better question,” he muttered.

“That’s the name of the game, innit?” someone to his right nudged him. “But we can’t have a guess if she don’t show. Been missin’ for three days. None of us’ve seen her since Monday. Beginning to wonder about the little girl.”

Vaughn had little time to question, or inch away, as the man was suddenly on his feet, shouting a playful ‘Where the hell ‘ya been!’ to someone.

“Hello to you too, Mac,” a laughing accented voice replied.

“Don’t you ‘hello’ me, Missy!” the man returned. “You’ve got some explaining to do!”

“Went to Vegas,” the hooded figure waved a hand.

“And no souvenirs?” someone else called. “Shame on you!”

“Well, I was going to bring back Celine Dion shirts and Spock bears, but they were sold out,” there were a few half-hearted glares and mock-annoyed mutterings, so she quickly added, “Who wants to start the program off?”

A moment of quiet, then someone called out, “Over the Hills!”

Vaughn raised an eyebrow as she began the song’s drum-solo intro.

They came for him one winter’s night
Arrested he was bound
They said there’d been a robbery
His pistol had been found

As it turned out, her ‘version’ was a basically a note-for-note remake of the original. The tempo had changed slightly and the vocals were female, but the song was instantly recognizable as the Gary Moore classic from nearly twenty years ago.

The familiarity worked to her advantage, though; by the middle of the song most were singing along with the chorus. Of course, the words of the chorus changed, which threw some off, giving Vaughn the opportunity to snicker.

Sensing the opportunity for a story, the reporter began to glance around; two kids in Children of Bodom shirts were flashing metal horns, a middle aged couple was singing along with every word, and the abnormally large and diverse family a couple tables over was animatedly discussing something.

The music abruptly dropped out and the woman raised her hands, signaling the crowd to sing along. They did, happily, Vaughn included.

Over the hills and far away
She prays he will return one day
As sure as the rivers reach the seas
Back in his arms is where she’ll be

As the song closed out, Vaughn began making notes. Small details like her pronunciation of certain things and almost larger than life stage presence along with larger points like the diversity of the crowd and their enthusiasm were all taken down in shorthand on his ever-present notepad.

“Any special occasions I should know about?” the woman asked when the song had ended. When no one moved, she glanced around the room, almost whining, “Come on! I know someone has some sort of announcement! I’d settle for singing Happy Birthday right now!”

Still nothing.

“I’m serious! I don’t have a list, I had Pixie Stix before the show, and I’m really hyper and-“ She broke off suddenly. “Well, that’s interesting.”

One of the members of the ‘abnormally large and diverse family’ had stood. It took Vaughn a few seconds to recognize him as Sesshomaru Mamoru, the founder of Nazo Records. The man cleared his throat and was about to speak when a sing-song voice called out, “Dad is gonna kill you.”

“If they’re breaking up, I’ll definitely kill him,” another voice added.

“If you’ll all shut up, I won’t kill you,” the businessman deadpanned. When they were quiet, he nodded, continuing, “Rin, I know we’ve never exactly been conventional, but Father will slaughter me if I don’t do this right.”

“How romantic,” the hooded singer remarked sarcastically.

“If the ‘Peanut Gallery’ has any more comments, they’d best keep them to themselves,” the added death glare caused the woman to raise her hands in surrender. Turning back to his unofficial fiancée, Sesshomaru retrieved the velvet box from his pocket. Kneeling, he said simply, “Rin, I’m asking you officially, conventionally, if you would marry me.”

The box opened to reveal a brilliantly colored, marquis-cut citrine in a platinum setting. Elegant scrollwork on either side completed the piece. Rin looked from the ring to his face and back again, tears emerging.

“Where’s the diamond?” Inutaisho narrowed his eyes. “I gave your mother a diamond, boy.”

“Rin,” Sesshomaru prompted, hoping she would answer.

“Told ya Dad would kill him.”

“Rin,” the stoic man was as close to pleading as his nature allowed him to be. “I’m kneeling on the rather dubious floor of a diner in a rather expensive suit because I love you. An answer is all I need.”

Kagome piped up again, “Girl, if you don’t answer him, I’m gonna steal him from you.”

The brown-eyed woman gave a watery laugh and launched herself into her boyfriend’s arms. “You big dumbass. You already know my answer! And you!” She pointed to the singer. “Stay the hell away from my man!”

“Damn,” Kagome snapped her fingers in a gesture of mock defeat.

“His brother’s free though!” Inuyasha couldn’t bring himself to glare at his future sister-in-law.

---

The remainder of the evening was uneventful, save for one song, uniquely requested by Miroku and five others, that Inuyasha likened to ‘a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show’. After a few moments of advertisement of her interview on the radio the next day and promising to take called-in questions, Kagome decided it was time to close out the show.

She began the well-known vocalization of her last song and, immediately, the crowd responded enthusiastically. When the drums and guitar jumped in, speeding up the tempo, those who knew the song clapped in time. After a short run, the tempo slowed again slightly and Kagome began the lyrics.

In your creation heaven did decree
That in your arms sweet death should dwell

The vocals were almost singspiel, or sing-speaking; simple, not flashy or ornate. The only background was a quick ¾ beat and soft intermittent chords on the synth.

Deep Silent Complete
Black velvet sea
The sirens are calling for me

Again, the guitar joined and she repeated the vocalization, smiling broadly when several, off-key, voices joined in, cracking on the higher end.

Saved my soul thinking “This song’s a lie”
Sand on the shore is so dry
Deep Silent Complete
Black velvet sea
Brave day sinking in endless night

A very distorted guitar backed up the synth as it began a run. Cutting the instruments off, she continued a cappela, placing a hand on her chest.

The age will say “This poet lies”

She gestured to the now officially, conventionally engaged, and comfortably cuddling, couple,

Heaven never touched earthly face
The age will say “This night was ours”
Blessed with the Deep the Silent the Complete

The guitar and synth resumed, and this time finished, their run before she began the vocalization again, this time repeating it as the lights faded, ending the song when she could no longer be seen.

---

“Seija,” Tero was hovering three inches above her face. “It’s Friday, Seija.”

“It was Friday when I went to bed, Caveman,” Kagome rolled over.

“It’s nearly noon, Seija,” Tero poked her side.

“It only takes me twenty minutes to get ready,” she reasoned.

“Uncle Tony and Shippo tried to cook breakfast and almost burned the kitchen down.”

“I don’t smell smoke.”

“The rest of the band is standing in the doorway.”

“What!” she screeched, bolting up, hugging the covers to her chest.

“Uncle Tony!” Tero hollered out the, obviously clear, doorway. “You owe me ten dollars!”

---

“Currently in the studio with me,” the smooth baritone began, “is one of our own local celebrities. Though she’s promised to answer any questions you call in, it currently appears that she would like her sandwich to tell her the meaning of life.”

Accent firmly in place, the young woman laughed. “I’m just wondering how much trouble I’ll get into if I eat.”

“With me?” Naraku shrugged. “None. I don’t know about the others though.”

“Water’s allowed?”

“Definitely.”

Kagome sighed in relief. “Oooh, the phone’s lighting up!”

“People, I have a very hyper singer in here, it would seem. Let’s see if some of your questions can calm her down,” he quickly went to line 1. “Hello, you are on the air.”

“Yeah, it’s Michael, longtime listener, first time caller and all that jazz,” the man laughed slightly. “Anyway, I do have a question.”

“Go ahead,” Kagome was leaning forward slightly.

“I noticed that you have a couple tracks that you didn’t credit to yourself,” he paused. “Why are you doing covers? You seem to have enough material that you can just do your own stuff.”

“Because it’s fun to swipe songs,” she imitated a teenybopper before sobering up. “No, stealing is bad, don’t steal. Seriously, the covers are usually more widely known, so if the crowd is mostly new it’s easier to play something they already know. It eases them into the set.”

“Over the Hills, yeah,” the caller agreed. “But that other one, I’d never heard it before.”

“Walking in the Air has a lot of back-story with my family. It’s close to me and I think it’s one of the best pieces of music ever composed, so that one’s purely selfish,” she smiled. “Good question, Michael.”

“Thanks for answering,” he hung up.

“Next caller.”

“Hello, I’m Alicia.”

“Hiya!” Kagome chirruped. “What can I do for you?”

“I just want to know what you think the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever written is,” the caller sounded entirely too cheery.

“You mean other than a skit in ninth year about ‘Lady Escargot Pudding’ and ‘Prince Pierre Pannacotta’?” she took a swig of water. “There is a song in the ‘Pile O’ Things to be Buried Behind an Outhouse As Soon As I Find One’.”

“Really?” the woman squeaked. “Why would you do that to a song?”

“Because it’s the worst piece of crap I ever wrote and I think I was really mad at my boyfriend when I wrote it,” the singer answered simply.

“Oh.”The interview went on for nearly two hours. Questions were answered, songs were requested, shout-outs were given, and, finally, goodbyes were said.

---

“So we’re just doing the Prelim recordings today?” Kagome glanced out the windowed walls of the small booth.

“Yep,” Kouga answered from his own booth.

“What are we doing?” Miroku called from inside his plastic bubble.

“No one knows!” Inuyasha knocked on his friend’s wall. “Just wing it!”

Tero, listening over the various mics, dropped his head into his hands. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“What have we here?” an unfamiliar voice came into the room.

“David!” Stephen, the recording engineer, stood and greeted the new arrivals. “Tero, this is Dead Right. Dead Right, this is Tero.”

Tero waved slightly, still listening to the chatter going on inside the booths.

“Ignore him, he’s busy,” Stephen chuckled nervously. “So, what are you guys doing here?”

“We actually came in to finalize a tour schedule,” Thom, the band’s drummer announced.

“Really?”

“Um-hmm,” James, the bass player answered uninterestedly. “Interesting set-up.”

“Yeah,” Stephen moved back to the board. “Newbies.”

“No, Seija, really,” Tero was saying. “I need a track name and possibly a number.”

“I have no idea what we’re doing, Caveman!” an almost panicked voice came over the intercom. “All I have is the lyrics. They’ve got all the music! Ask them!”

“Uh, yeah,” Inuyasha broke in. “Seeing as our leading lady’s having a conniption, we’re just gonna go with Passion and the Opera, alright. Track 5?”

“I. Hate. You.”

“This could get interesting,” David, frontman and lead guitarist, grinned. “Mind if we sit in?”

“Go right ahead,” Tero waved as a rapid guitar intro began.

The band crowded behind the board, reading the lyrics over Tero’s shoulder and catcalling every once in a while. As the song progressed, the older band watched, amused, as the two guitarists spread the news of their presence to the rest of the band, except the singer, of course.

‘Over there!’ Kouga mouthed, jerking his head towards the front of the room.

‘I know!’ Inuyasha mouthed back. ‘Tell those two.’

‘She’s going to shit bricks!’ Kouga mouthed, slowly.

Transitioning to the break, Inuyasha shrugged. ‘Don’t care!’

“Wait a minute,” Thom spoke up. “They’re at the end of the lyrics. What are they doing?”

“Patience,” Tero rolled his eyes at the Americans. “Honestly. No vision,” into the earphone-only mic, he muttered, “Run with it, Seija.”

In her own little plastic, music-filled world, Kagome rolled her eyes. ‘Do it like you practiced, Kagome. Run with it, Seija.’ Techs…

The cue came…And she ran with it.

Moving back from the mic, she began to let out a mix of staccato and legato, high and low, trills, warbles, clean notes, anything she felt like throwing out. Up a fifth, down an octave; it wasn’t the actual cut, so what the hell.

Before too long, she liked it better than the original sequence.

When the track was finished, the guys had their say.

“Showoff,” came the amused call from the guitarist's box.

“Can we use that?” Kouga’s voice asked.

“Depends,” Naraku added reasonably. “Could she do it again?”

“My ears hurt,” Miroku whined. “Damn drums are too loud.”

“Tero,” Kagome called out. “Somebody out there! Run back that last section! If we’re using it, it needs harmonies.”

“Perfectionist,” David nodded. “Good.”

Once the entire band was satisfied with the outcome, they began to move on.

“Three and nine are out,” Kagome announced. “Pharaoh Sails and Deep Dark Ocean.”

“Don’t have the male vocals,” Tero explained to the mini audience.

Smiling suspiciously, James asked, “What kind of male vocals do they need?”

An hour later, Tero called everyone from their booths. “Meet your new best friends,” he waved to the members of Dead Right.

“Hear ya need DMMV’s,” David smirked.

---

A/N2: Right, DMMV's are slang for 'Death Metal Male Vocals'. Basically, those creepy voices Wilska, Dani Filth, and Shagrath make their living doing. 'Escargot Pudding' and 'Pierre Pannacotta' either belong to Rumiko (my God I hope not) or the wacky translators for the Ocean Group...I'll have to check the dub again. Anyhooters, I've only jumped about a month in that last section, but they are getting dangerously close to having to record and tour...And I still need a couple of curve balls to throw at them on the tour bus, so... Review please, if you've got a crazy idea!