Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

The Message
By : yankee13
Category: InuYasha > General
Views: 799 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
Chapter List
- 1-The Message
- 1
Kagome widened her eyes as she attempted to pay attention to the road. She’d have to pull over soon; there was no way she could drive much longer. Luckily, her home was just ten blocks up the road, and if the rain eased, she could just make it.
Fate was on her side as the rain eased into a drizzle, and she pulled into her apartment complex’s parking lot. She expertly avoided the pot holes and banged-up Excursions, being careful to look for teenagers that liked to pull late-night pranks. Their latest fad had been broken bottles in parking spaces; easily avoided, but it was late, and she had to stay alert.
Pulling into her traditional spot, she the few apartments whose lights were still aglow. Night owls, like herself, working hard to get the job done. Hers, unfortunately, took her away from the comfort of her apartment, and she ended up roaming the streets well past dusk in an effort to complete one interview before she moved onto another.
Working with children had always been a dream of Kagome’s; working with child protective services had not. A frazzled economy and lack of opportunity had persuaded her to at least try the profession. In the back of her mind floated the notion that a couple years of doing work, making a real difference was worth it – it was like joining the Peace Corps with the comfort of staying in the country and air-conditioning. The pay, however, was similar.
She pulled the keys from the ignition, and stepped out of the car. Her briefcase was overloaded with files, and a few slipped out when she grabbed it from the backseat. Cursing under her breath, she picked up the file. Without much of a glance, she recognized to be Shippo’s, a rascal of a little boy whose father abandoned him and a dead-beat, but loving, mother. She sighed and tucked the file back into place, making a mental note to call the children’s home for an interview tomorrow.
The trek to her apartment was not a long one, but uphill, and upstairs. She wanted to complain, but figured that it kept her in shape; something had to, as she didn’t have much time outside of her profession for personal endeavors. If there was one thing about public service, it was constant and unforgiving. Besides, there was no one to tell. Her practiced eyes kept a constant lookout for any suspicious shadows. So often and so used as she was to this environment, she did it unconsciously. Approaching the stairs slowly, she gave one exasperated sigh, fumbled to find her keys, and ascended.
Coming home was not a warming event. Her apartment was practical, but sparse, thanks to her lack of money and practice. Her salary afforded her the nicest apartments in town, but that wasn’t saying much either. Still, she managed to make the best of things, and what little décor she had was tasteful and clean. Sometimes, on the rare day off, she would take out her cleaning supplies and scrub relentlessly. She waged a war on her old apartment, and stopped only when she was convinced that the filth she brought home from work was gone.
It was a de-stresser for her, one of the few ways she could cope with the constant heartbreaks her job provided. She also ran in the mornings, and then ran through the shower before the hot water ran out. Somehow she managed to look sprightly each morning, with her long black hair and reassuring smile. They spoke little of what lay behind her violet eyes, how she often went to bed with a heavy heart, not knowing how to put the tiny, dirty faces of needy children out of her mind.
She jiggled her key into the apartment lock, gave shove and the door gave way. She bumped her knee twice, her hand feeling for the knob of the lamp. Everything was dark; everything, that is, except for one small red light that was repeatedly blinking. She disregarded the message for the moment, not wanting anything else for the rest of the day. Her briefcase hit the floor with a large thud. All she could think of was a bite to eat, a long bath, and some reminder of why she put up with her job every day.
Into the kitchen, she pulled out some ramen. She knew it was terrible for her, but she just didn’t have the time to make something healthier. Waiting for the water to boil, she stirred in the ramen. Leaving it alone briefly, she walked to her bedroom, careful to tread lightly so her downstairs neighbors would not be annoyed. Under her bed, she found what she was looking for: a medium-sized cardboard box, and took it in with her to the dining room. Briefly she returned to finish the ramen, placing it into a small bowl and retreated to the dining room. Taking one large slurp of noodles, she chewed slowly as she dug through the box.
Inside were a couple dozen or so little notes, brightly colored and a little stained. Each had a different message inside, but the overwhelming theme was “thank you.” Some were on large pieces of construction paper, others on half-sheets of computer. One was even on a napkin. But all were from children that Kagome had helped over the past year and a half. Most of the time she didn’t receive a thank-you at all – heck, she hardly ever heard from them again. But on the rare occasion, she would receive an update on one of her “her kids,” and it would melt her heart, knowing she had made a difference in the life of a child. She would always retreat to this box after a particularly difficult case or a particularly hard night, and she would always remember why she refused to give up just yet.
It was perhaps for that reason that the blinking red light on her answering machine completely faded from her mind. In fact, it wasn’t until she had cleaned her dishes, replaced her box, and started running her bath that she even remembered the message at all. (Few people knew her land line – heck, few people even had a land line – and nobody called it in an emergency.) She finished undressing, and loosely swept up her tresses into a clip. Though she was home alone – like always – she slipped on a short, silk bathrobe to re-enter the living room. Her long fingers grazed the machine, and tapped.
“Hey.”
The gruff voice on the other end nearly made her jump out of her skin. It couldn’t be.
“Hey, Kagome. This is – ” there was a brief pause, then a chuckle. “Well, I’m sure you remember me.”
Oh. It wasn’t. Her heart leapt back in her chest.
“I’m in town again. Give me a call, okay? Same number, same reason.”
“And same guy,” she thought to herself. Setting herself on the edge of the sofa, Hojo continued to gabble on the line, but she had droned him out. Suddenly, Kagome was back in college. The weight of her books clung at her back, the autumn leaves danced off the trees, and the excitement of homecoming was in the air. Hojo was walking closely with her, explaining to her the mechanics of their contesting float in the parade with the simulated fountain on top, how the water run – Jostling back to reality, she remembered the running water in the bath and hoped the water hadn’t overrun.
Her knees cemented themselves into the tile as Kagome turned the water off. Her fingers shallowly tested the water, and she bent her knees forward so she could test the far end of the tub. Despite their locked position, they buckled when Kagome heard the voice continuing in the living room. The flat of her face hit the water briefly, her hands barely catching the tub walls for support. Sputtering water in exchange for air, she shook off the shock and tried to regain her composure.
In mere seconds, she had resumed her position at the answering machine, replaying the last of the message. It took only a moment for her to realize the magnitude of the message.
“Keh, woman, why don’t you answer your damn phone?”
Her eyes opened wide.
There was a slight pause on the machine, as if he had expected her to be home and merely screening her calls. His voice came back in full throttle, though annoyed: “Answer next time.”
The machine came back on, asking if she could bear to delete the first contact she’d had with Inuyasha in three years. She listened to it once more, hoping to glean some sort of meaning. Satisfied there was none, she retreated back to the bathroom, where the bath had settled to being comfortably warm. Before her inevitable plunge, Kagome had slipped some chamomile bubble bath into the water, hoping it would help to relax and let her sleep.
She was far from relaxed, her mind reeling. Ironically, her mind filled with questions from both an in investigative perspective, and a schoolgirl one. She wanted to know why they had called her, what was their purpose? Was it similar? It was too coincidental not to be. What could they want from her? She hadn’t done anything noticeably different since she last spoke to both of them, aside from her current profession and residence. How they even got her phone number was a strange thought to ponder.
Sliding underneath the bubbles, her shoulder blades rubbed along the back of the tub. She was thinking back to Hojo. It had been over a year since she’d seen him. He was a sweet, well-mannered boy, if a trifle spineless. His family insisted on their friendship, and eventually dated for a year in college, breaking up right before graduation. Their relationship had been pleasant, but without passion. Their relationship had also been physical – even sexual – but she never once recalled making love.
The details of their break-up were fuzzy, though Kagome was certain it had ended mutually and on amicable terms. So why would he call now? Her mind was perplexed, as she sorted through possible motives for his call. He couldn’t possibly be trying to reconcile with her, could he? Why would he try?
And Inuyasha – oh, God, Inuyasha! She felt her entire body grow hot and knew it wasn’t because of the water. Goosebumps covered her legs and she involuntarily shivered, her eyebrows furrowed and she felt a mix of fury, frustration, irritation, and excitement. She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel – she didn’t have a guideline for this! Finally, he had been out of her mind long enough for her to move on with her existence. Finally, she had been able to get up and get through her day without thinking about the one time she had really felt passion – the one time she had really known what it meant to be kissed – the one time she had really known what it felt like to be on fire and to be in love.
Kagome didn’t realize the force she was having with her emotions until she heard the splashes slop against the cracked tiles. She had thrust her feet into the foot of the tub and the momentum of the water exceeded her expectations. She curled her towards her body, and leaned her chest over her knees. Her dark hair hung like a curtain across her back, and with the wave of one hand swept it across her neck. A heavy sigh exhaled from her lungs.
No matter what she considered, she knew this much: the mere thought of Inuyasha had excited more passion in her than a relationship with Hojo ever had. Such enthusiasm had come so unexpectedly into her life,
It wasn’t Hojo’s fault. In fact, if Hojo had come before her time with Inuyasha, she probably wouldn’t have known the difference and, scared to say, she might have been perfectly okay with a merely pleasant relationship. But Inuyasha had come along. His influence left her confused and searching for answers, which included one bizarre relationship with Kouga, and stable, if dull, relationship with Hojo. She couldn’t blame Inuyasha – no, she wouldn’t do that.
Kouga had taught her a lot about physical attraction – she learned the fine difference between love and lust. She knew that physical attraction can exist outside personal involvement. He undoubtedly tried his best to win her heart as well as her body, but it was a fool-hearty attempt.
Hojo, on the other hand, was the exact opposite lesson. Kagome loved Hojo – their time together had proven him to be an invaluable friend and worthy companion. Their interests were similar, their thoughts alike, and their friends approved. Everything was calm and tranquil – when one disagreed, the other complied. When one encouraged, the other pushed harder. By all accounts, it was a match made for heaven.
But there was no physical attraction, and so Kagome learnt to dealt with love without lust.
And always, her mind turned back to that one night with Inuyasha: a night that had been three years in the making, which had happened three years ago. A man she had loved with her whole heart woke her soul to the physical expression of her fervor. It was one night – not a relationship – and yet it is what she always thought back to.
Or used to. No, she had given that up long ago. It had taken a while, surely, but with her new job and the kids, her life was too busy to miss him. It was too busy to worry about what someone else thought. She was sure news of her life reached him one way or another, wherever he was, since she heard rumors of him, too.
Kagome grew angry, and furious. Who the hell did he think he was, barging back into her life? She didn’t invite him back here! He could call again for all she cared – talking to him would only make things worse. She had spent the past three years and two relationships repairing the wall around her heart, and she would not let him get to her again. No, she wouldn’t be victim to him this time. Not again. If only she knew what he was up to! She pursed her lips in contemplation. She was not the same little innocent girl he knew then – oh, he was in for a surprise.
Knowing Inuyasha, he would not have called if he were not in town. Tomorrow, Kagome would have to keep a lookout for his presence, and made a silent prayer of thanks that she could set her own hours between actual investigation and work documentation. Excited though she was by Inuyasha’s presence, he had broken her heart for the last time. Her will was iron and resolute.
Some time in the analysis of her past love affairs, the water became lukewarm, and Kagome realized she’d have to get out sooner or later. Sooner than later she’d have to call Hojo back, and sooner than later, Inuyasha would call again.
She readied herself for bed, slipping into some comfy cotton pajamas, knowing full well that she wasn’t going to be getting much sleep tonight. But for the first time in a long time, her insomnia was caused by bewilderment rather than heartbreak. She had something to be anxious for, to preoccupy her from her nightly depressive turns. For that much, she could be grateful.
Her door creaked open, but Kagome knew better than to be afraid. Peeking over her shoulder, her cat lazily strolled in, ready to man his nightly post at the edge of the bed. He was lazy and fat, but he was also curious, and looked to Kagome to.
“Buyo,” she said, her voice a faint mix of anxiety and excitement. “It looks like we’re going to be having some company.”

[A/N: Read and review if you like. If you don’t, I don’t mind. It’s just a foundation chapter. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this could actually develop into something of a cool plot, if I tend to it enough.

By the way, before you ask, it doesn’t really matter where this is set, be that Japan or the States. I tend to write my settings very ambiguously, so you can picture for yourself exactly how you’d like a room to be set up or the landscapes to look. (I’m caught between Tolstoy and Hemingway.) I’m more familiar with the American state departments, though, so I draw heavily from that.]
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The Message	By : yankee13 Category: InuYasha > General Views: 799 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

The Message