Work Text:
Artwork by Valuvi
"We really couldn't have gotten a better assignment than this?" Inuyasha grumbled loud enough for Miroku to hear him over the crowd. “I hate music festivals.”
Inuyasha hated crowded places in general, but he especially despised places where people were tightly packed together. He had only been outside for a few hours in 60 degree weather, but the body heat from the spectators around him had caused him to soak his flannel shirt in so much sweat that every inch of it stuck to his body.
Their job would have been a lot more pleasant had their boss at the newspaper paid for better seats, but instead he’d sent them on their way with vague instructions to come up with a compelling story from General Admission. Inuyasha’s only hope was that Miroku was a talented journalist that could write a story out of anything. He’d already interviewed a few of the concert goers, and Inuyasha had been flashing his camera non-stop, increasing his hopes of getting to go home early.
“Patience, Inuyasha,” Miroku reminded him. He was ever the optimist. “We’ll have to work our way up slowly just like everyone else.”
Inuyasha scoffed as he continued to wriggle and shove his way closer to the stage, looking for the perfect angle. So far his shots had been good, but he couldn’t be at peace until he captured better photos of the stage, preferably some that didn’t predominantly feature raised hands and arms. He cursed under his breath as he shoved and maneuvered his body forward, while shielding and protecting his expensive camera from the limbs that people were flinging around without a care.
He snapped a couple more photos then shuffled through them. “Miroku, I think I got ‘em!” But when he turned to show Miroku, his best friend was nowhere to be seen.
Inuyasha sighed, preparing himself to dive back into the crowd and find Miroku so they could get the hell out of there, when the next act took the stage. He looked up as the singer took her place at the microphone. Right away he perceived that there was something different about the petite, wavy-haired musician. All of the previous acts had taken the stage knowing they were performing at the smallest, least-known music festival in the city that was reserved for local, amateur artists and had lacked any visible excitement during their performances.
But this girl was different from all of the previous musicians that had performed. Her large brown eyes glittered in the stage lights, and she wore a wide, cheerful smile as she announced her band whose name Inuyasha couldn’t hear clearly.
Despite the enthusiasm she exuded, he still didn't expect much from her. The talent so far had been mediocre, and it didn’t seem to be improving.
Just as he had expected, the band’s first two songs were too loud, the instruments drowning out the singer’s voice so he couldn’t properly hear it and decide if she had talent or not. Whether she did or not, she looked like she was having the time of her life unlike the previous performers, and her enthusiasm and stage presence, coupled with the fact that she was beautiful and photogenic made for some stellar photos.
By chance he spotted Miroku standing at the barricade, too preoccupied with getting the attention of one of the female security guards to watch the performance. Inuyasha sighed and shook his head at his hopeless flirt of a friend before he began the trek to retrieve him so they could go home.
Inuyasha had yet to take the first step when a profound silence fell over the crowd. He turned his head in every direction, trying to pinpoint the cause of the strange phenomenon.
But what had caused the silence that befell the crowd couldn’t be spotted with the eyes. It could only be heard, and his entire body froze when his ears captured the ethereal sound that was slowly encapsulating the venue and entrancing the audience. For the first time since she had taken the stage with her band, the singer’s voice could be heard clearly throughout the venue. She closed her eyes as she sang, completely unaware of the effects her gentle, airy, dulcet voice was having on her audience. Inuyasha was sure that if he reached up he would pierce the delicate sound waves that emanated from her core with his fingers.
Very few things in this world moved Inuyasha, but the smooth, delicate timbre of her voice had found its way into this chest, making his heart swell with so many emotions at once that it made him want to squirm from the discomfort.
The sound of her voice had monopolized his attention, and he hadn’t been paying attention to any of the words she was singing. He closed his eyes to help him focus on the lyrics.
Can we meet at the next stop?
I want to see your face
The one I’ve missed so much
Why don’t we meet at the next green light?
Let’s be a part of the scenery
I used to draw
The sun sinks slowly in the distance
The streets become empty
There's only one person left
Standing at the same place as yesterday
Who doesn't know how to leave
As he listened, he found himself singing along in his head. When there was a break in between the verses, he automatically knew the words that would come next.
Because he already knew that song.
Every single word of it from start to finish. Forwards and backwards. He could sing it in his sleep.
Every limb in his body froze in place as he stared wide-eyed at the stranger who was singing the words to a song she wasn’t supposed to know, that no one but he should have known.
The audience erupted in thunderous cheers and applause, causing Inuyasha to snap out of his frozen stupor.
“Inuyasha!” Miroku appeared beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright? You look pale.”
“I…I have to talk to her!” he yelled, keeping his eyes on the girl as she and her band gave one final wave to the crowd and began making their way backstage.
Miroku shot him a look of bewilderment. “What the hell are you talking about?”
There was no time for explanations. Inuyasha bolted into the crowd and fought his way toward the stage without a plan.
The only thing he was sure of was his objective. He had to talk to that girl. Ask her how the hell she knew that song when it was one that his mother had written for him when he was just a child. How could she possibly know the words to a song his mother would sing to him every night before he went to bed? One that his mother had taken to her grave and Inuyasha had buried in the deepest parts of his memory where he buried everything that caused him too much pain to remember.
It was something that had only existed between the two of them. When his mother had passed away, he had become the only person in the entire world with knowledge of its existence.
So how the fuck did this random stranger know his mother's song?
Reason kicked in when he finally reached the barricade. What was he thinking? That he could jump the barricade and just waltz across the stage?
“Shit!” he growled, running along the barricade. There had to be an entrance to the backstage area on either side of the stage. When he reached the left edge of the stage, his assumption proved right, and he sprinted toward it.
He was almost home free when a tall, burly man wearing a staff shirt that was much too tight for him moved to block the entrance. If Inuyasha had been running any faster, he wouldn’t have been able to stop in time and would have probably cracked his skull against the man’s abdominals, their outline clearly visible through the fabric.
Inuyasha looked up at the towering guard and flashed the badge provided to him by his boss.
"I'm a photographer. Now if you'll excuse me - "
The man extended a beefy arm to prevent Inuyasha from advancing any further.
"Staff only,” the guard repeated in his gruff voice. Inuyasha wasn’t even sure if the guy was looking at him through his sunglasses. “Press is prohibited backstage. You can take your little pictures in general admission like everyone else."
Inuyasha’s eye twitched, and he balled his fists at his sides in response to the man’s insult. The man’s haughty tone was irritating enough, but the bastard insulting his profession was the last straw out of the single straw he typically carried around.
"Listen here, idiot - "
"Inuyasha!" Miroku called from behind him, interrupting the threat that Inuyasha was confident would’ve gotten him backstage.
Miroku came up next to him, putting his hand on his best friend's shoulder, his eyes darting back and forth between him and the guard who remained silent and unfazed.
"You just ran off. Care to explain what the hell you’re doing?”
Inuyasha opened his mouth to respond, but as he ran through the possible responses he could offer Miroku, he concluded that all of them would make him sound like a nutjob. Reason started to kick in, and he began to question what he had just experienced.
What he had thought he heard was impossible. His mother had promised him that the song would always be their secret, the one thing that would connect them always, no matter what happened. And that’s why Inuyasha had to believe that it had all been a figment of his imagination and nothing more.
“Just wasting my time,” he muttered, not bothering to glance back at the guard that had only been doing his job. “Let's get the hell out of here."
///
Miroku insisted on driving Inuyasha home instead of letting him take the subway. Inuyasha wasn’t in the mood to argue for once and accepted, although he wasn’t much company as Miroku drove the half hour to his apartment.
Inuyasha thought that forgetting the incident was as easy as willing it so, but it replayed in his mind a hundred times more in the car as Miroku weaved through the evening traffic. When he finally made it to his apartment, Inuyasha slammed the door behind him, throwing his stuff as well as himself onto the couch. He lay there for a while, his hands clasped behind his head as he looked up at the white ceiling, doing exactly what he promised himself he wasn’t going to do.
The sound quality must have been mediocre. The song simply had an uncanny similarity to his mother’s. The singer’s voice had evoked so many emotions and memories that they had become entangled, and he was just confused.
But no matter which way he rationalized it, he would doubt himself all over again until his mind twisted itself into so many knots he couldn’t take it anymore. He shot up off the couch and grabbing his camera, he planted himself in front of his computer. The computer pinged when he popped in the SD card and he tapped his fingers on the desk as the 200 or so images he’d taken at the festival were uploaded.
When the upload was complete, he scrolled until he found hers. He scanned each and every photograph he’d taken of her, his keen eyesight honing in on every little detail, trying to identify any clue about her and her band, but he came up empty. She was the focus of his photographs, and he hadn’t captured enough of the background which could have provided clues.
“Damn it!” he cursed, slamming his fists on the desk and causing everything on it to shake.
A quick Google search revealed that the venue hadn’t even announced the music festival on their website and a second one that the event itself didn’t even have a web page! He leaned back in his chair, desperately running his hands through his hair and wishing he’d at least asked for the band’s name before he left.
Inuyasha huffed in frustration at his luck.
He wondered if he could use his photographs to find her on social media, even contemplated posting her picture and asking around anonymously on the internet for her name. Surely she and her band had to have a social media account somewhere, especially if they were trying to gather attention and establish a fan base. Someone had to recognize her.
But the more that he contemplated his options, the more he felt like he was wasting his time on chasing a ghost.
What was he thinking?
Inuyasha now paced back and forth in his apartment in an attempt to calm himself down and convince himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination. It had to be.
When he’d finally resigned to forgetting the whole ordeal completely again, he planted himself in front of his computer once more and selected every last photograph of the singer. His finger hovered over the mouse for a second that felt more like an eternity before he finally hit the “delete” button. And that was the end of that.
Much to his dismay, the rest of the week proved that he was nowhere near the end of it. Inuyasha threw himself completely into his work at the newspaper, but no matter how busy he kept himself, the girl’s voice haunted him ceaselessly, playing on repeat in the back of his mind every second of every day.
He did everything in his power to drown it out, staying even later than usual at work every day until security had no choice but to ask him politely to leave. On the subway, he’d pop his earphones in and blast his music as loud as he could stand it, but no volume was loud enough to extinguish it completely. At home, he kept the TV on all day and night even as he slept. Keeping himself busy throughout the week helped to muffle it, but it was always there playing softly in the background of his thoughts.
By Friday afternoon, he couldn’t take it anymore. The second he arrived home from work he raced to his desk and took out his laptop, intent on restoring the singer’s photographs. He might have to turn over every stone in the city, but he’d find her and ask her the one question whose answer could finally end the torture.
How do you know that song?
Inuyasha was just about to click the restore button on his keyboard when his phone went off. He was tempted to send the call straight to voicemail had it not been for Miroku’s face flashing on the screen.
He took a deep breath before answering the call.
“Hello?”
"You're never gonna guess what just happened?" Miroku’s excitement was palpable over the phone.
"You're right,” Inuyasha responded, rubbing his temples. “I'm terrible at guessing."
"The hot security guard from the festival, the one I was telling you about, she agreed to come over for dinner tonight."
"Who?"
"I knew you weren't listening to a word I said on the car ride home. Anyway, come over for dinner tonight.”
Inuyasha swiveled around in his office chair. "I'm not interested in third-wheeling but thanks."
Miroku sighed as if he’d already known Inuyasha would decline. "She's bringing a friend. And from what it sounds like she's totally your type." Inuyasha immediately began to shut down at the words “friend” and “type.”
"Since when do I have a type?" he demanded, leaning forward in his chair. The only type of women who dared to date him were the kind that wanted to try their hand at prying him open emotionally, and so far, there had only been one of those in his life, and she'd failed miserably.
"Since now."
Inuyasha became silent as he mentally rummaged through his arsenal of excuses for getting out of social events. He typically didn’t need any when it came to hanging out one-on-one with Miroku, but at the moment requests for double dates and dates in general warranted them.
MIroku grew tired of waiting for an answer and finally broke the silence. "I'm making ramen."
Shit. Miroku knew exactly how to get him. The bastard definitely knew his way around a kitchen, and turning down a bowl of his best friend’s homemade ramen would have been a sin. Inuyasha had never turned one down, and he wasn’t about to start.
"Fine,” he agreed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “I'll be there. But I’m not there on a date. I’m only there for the food. And moral support.”
Inuyasha reluctantly closed his laptop, leaving his quest for a later time. He had approximately an hour and a half before he had to be at the subway station if he wanted to arrive at Miroku’s unfashionably late by five minutes. If he arrived on time, he would seem desperate, and he was adamant on further making the point that he was not there for a date.
Inuyasha shaved and showered, blasting the music on his shower speaker to prevent her voice from disturbing his peace. He chose to keep it clean and casual, throwing on his best pair of dark denim jeans and a white and gray striped sweater with a tan jacket to help him ward off the cold of the subway station. He used just enough gel to style his short, silver hair without it looking too stiff but still holding it in place and giving it a chance at withstanding the gusts of wind brought on by the moving subway trains. He wasn’t on his way to impress a potential date, but he at least wanted to support his best friend and give the impression that Miroku had a presentable, decent friend, although not very punctual.
Inuyasha slung his leather messenger bag over his shoulder and inspected himself one last time in the mirror that hung on the back of the front door. When he was certain that everything was in its rightful place, he was off.
Inuyasha knocked on Miroku’s door at exactly 6:05 p.m.
“You’re late,” Miroku muttered between clenched teeth and a tight smile.
“Exactly,” Inuyasha responded cheekily, patting his friend on the back as he stepped into the apartment. He never ceased to be impressed by how spotless and tidy Miroku kept the place. The fact that he was a minimalist enthusiast gave him an advantage, the black and white color scheme already giving the living room a semblance of balance and organization. But if one zoomed in on the ivory slipcovered sofas, the black ceramic vases that adorned the wooden tabletops, or the black and white geometric area rug, not a stain, speck of dust, or trace of dirt would be found. Inuyasha prided himself in keeping a clean and neat apartment, but Miroku’s place was beyond immaculate.
Even Miroku’s date complemented the decor as she sat on one of the sofas dressed in black from head to toe. She immediately stood up when Inuyasha walked in.
She was tall, almost as tall as Inuyasha with the help of her five inch heels and the high ponytail she wore on her head. Her tight black pants and long-sleeved shirt revealed a lean, well-defined physique, and right away Inuyasha was sure she could handle her own in a fight and probably kick his ass.
“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Sango.” She took a step forward and offered her his hand. “You must be Inuyasha.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” he confirmed, feeling awkward. Inuyasha wasn’t used to regularly meeting new people and much preferred not to, but he had promised himself to make an effort to be as sociable as possible in support of Miroku. He reciprocated the gesture, and the two shook hands.
“Why don’t we head on over to the dining table?” Miroku suggested. “Inuyasha, I could use your help in the kitchen.”
Inuyasha started to follow Miroku when he heard the voice of a fourth person behind him.
“You really have a beautiful apartment.”
Inuyasha’s ears twitched in response to the new voice. There was an odd familiarity to it, but he couldn’t quite put a face to it.
He turned around, but it didn’t seem like he was moving fast enough, as if suddenly he was being forced to move in slow motion. When he finally came face to face with the owner of the voice, everything seemed to slow down even further, giving him the suspicion that he was dreaming. Maybe he was still in his apartment, immersed in a profound sleep and having a dream in which the person that had haunted him all week had suddenly materialized in front of him.
Inuyasha stood immobile, completely unsure of the state of the expression he wore on his face as he gazed at the one thing that had made him question his reality more in the last 7 days than over the course of the 27 years he'd been alive.
The only thing that he was sure of was that It was her, the singer from the music festival. He’d inadvertently memorized her face after spending hours studying her pictures, those big, brown eyes that shone too brightly and radiated too much joy, the shiny, jet-black hair that fell in waves around her shoulders and across the fabric of the dark green dress she wore.
But it was the melodic voice with which she introduced herself that had left the greatest impression on him.
“Hi, I’m Kagome,” she said, offering him a sweet, sincere smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
///
If it hadn’t been for Miroku discretely poking him in the back and snapping him out of his daze, Inuyasha would have remained a statue.
Inuyasha quickly muttered his name and shook her hand, the warm, soft feel of her skin making him lean towards this being real as opposed to a dream.
Miroku forced a smile to lighten the awkward mood and beckoned the girls to take a seat at the dinner table while he and Inuyasha served the food.
“Can you please try to act normal?” Miroku pleaded with him in the safety of the kitchen while handing him a tray with clean bowls.
Inuyasha wished that he could make that promise, but nothing about this situation was normal. All he could do was offer Miroku an ambiguous pout and silently vow to do his best not to ruin this night for him and his date.
All throughout dinner, Inuyasha’s eyes darted back and forth between Kagome and his bowl of ramen which he hardly touched. Every so often, she would catch him looking at her, and she would smile, a soft blush appearing on her cheeks, and bashfully look away. Inuyasha took this as a good sign. Even after their less than stellar introduction, she wasn’t completely weirded out by him. Meanwhile, he tried his best to look like he was following the conversation, only speaking when spoken to or asked a question as he frantically thought about what to do.
He needed to get Kagome alone. That was the first vital step. There was no way he was doing this in front of Miroku and his date. It was much too delicate a topic, too personal, one that could only be settled between the two of them.
After they had finished having dinner and the table had been cleared, Miroku returned from the kitchen looking a little embarrassed.
“It seems that I’ve forgotten the most important ingredient for dessert. Do you guys mind if I quickly run down to the store? It won’t take me longer than 10 minutes.”
“I’ll go!” Kagome offered, rising from her seat. “I saw the convenience store on the corner as I was walking here. You’ve been such a gracious host. I really don’t mind.”
Inuyasha nearly knocked over his chair with how quickly he jumped to his feet.
“I’ll go with you!” he blurted out a little too enthusiastically. Three pairs of eyes snapped in his direction at once, and he instantly felt the heat rise in his face. “This street can get a little dangerous around this time of night. You shouldn’t go alone. I almost got mugged on that corner a few months ago.” He hoped his explanation would deter everyone from misinterpreting the motives behind his offer.
Kagome smiled at his suggestion. “Oh, thanks! That’s so kind of you.”
Inuyasha’s mind was racing as they walked down the hallway to the elevator in silence. He finally had the perfect opportunity in front of him but no plan. It was quickly looking like he was going to have to wing it.
At least luck seemed to be on his side for once as Kagome and he entered an empty elevator.
Once the doors closed, Inuyasha pushed the lobby button. The elevator doors slid shut, and they began their descent to the ground floor.
Do something. Do something. DO SOMETHING NOW, his inner voice demanded.
Do what exactly? Inuyasha silently retorted.
His brain made the connection when his eyes locked on the emergency stop button. Without wasting another precious second, he reached toward the panel and pressed the bright red button, causing the elevator to jolt to a stop and nearly sending Inuyasha and Kagome to the floor.
They were in the dark for a second before the lights flickered back on. Inuyasha looked over at Kagome who was steadying herself against the elevator wall before turning her head toward him and shooting daggers at him with her eyes.
“Why the hell did you do that? Are you out of your mind?” she yelled, her face a bright red.
Yet it was the intensity in her eyes that sent chills through his body, and he quickly began to question his decisions.
But it was too late to turn back now. He swallowed hard and pressed on. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Kagome gaped at him as if he’d just grown a second head. “So you trap me in an elevator to do it? You couldn’t just talk to me back in the apartment? Or at least wait until we got to the lobby? No, I don’t like this. I want to get off.”
She desperately eyed the buttons as if she was fixing to make a run for them at the first chance she got.
Inuyasha thought that jumping right into it would be the best way to dispel her worries. “Look, let me explain. I was there at the music festival on Saturday. I saw your performance.”
Kagome let out a sharp gasp. “So you’ve been stalking me?! I thought you were cute at first, but now you’re just creeping me out.”
“Can you just - ? Wait, you thought I was cute?”
A deep, monotone voice suddenly came over the intercom, and their heads whipped in its direction. “We have received a notification that the elevator has stopped. Please remain calm as we work to resolve the issue.”
Kagome sighed with relief and began to yell at the intercom, even though it was no use since she hadn’t pressed the button to reply. “Oh thank goodness! Please hurry, I’m trapped in here with a lunatic!”
“Hey, I am not crazy!” Inuyasha fired back. “Listen, I just need to ask you a question. That’s all!”
Kagome pressed her purse to her chest and backed up into the corner of the elevator. “I should have seen this coming. You’ve been looking at me with desire in your eyes since the beginning!”
“What the hell are you saying? I have not!” he protested. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you.” He raised his hands up in front of him to reassure her.
Kagome’s eyes shifted upward to look at something above his head. “You do know there are cameras in here, right?”
Instinctively, Inuyasha turned around to confirm her observation, which proved to be a grave mistake.
When he turned back around his left eye was met square on with a small but accelerating fist. The force from the blow sent him staggering backwards until his back hit the elevator wall.
“What the hell was that for?!” he screamed, cupping his eye and seeing stars as he slid down to the floor.
“And there’s more where that came from if you refuse to get out of my way,” she warned, standing on the opposite side of the elevator in a fight-ready stance. “Now, I’m going to move slowly toward the door, and you’re going to scoot over toward the back of the elevator, and I swear if you - ”
“The last song you performed at the festival…my mother wrote that song,” Inuyasha blurted out, the throbbing pain in his eye intensifying with every word he spoke.
Confusion flashed across her face for a brief moment before it was replaced again with anger. “What?”
Inuyasha turned his face away from her, suddenly too vulnerable to look her in the eyes.
“The last song that you performed…My mother wrote it for me when I was a little boy.” He said the words in a low voice and hoped Kagome had heard him because he wasn’t sure if he would be able to repeat them.
“You’re lying.” She lowered the fists she’d raised protectively in front of her chest just slightly. “You’re just trying to distract me.”
“It’s not like I’m holding you hostage,” he explained. He made an effort to meet her eyes again and hoped she could see that his intention wasn’t to hurt her. “I just need you to answer one question before we get out of here.”
“And what’s that?” she asked, her expression having transitioned through so many emotions that it now displayed a mixture of fear, anger, and confusion. If he made it out of this alive, he’d owe her a hell of an apology for what he’d just put her through.
As a sign of good faith, Inuyasha did what Kagome had asked. While still holding his soon-to-be black eye, he shuffled along the floor toward the back of the elevator.
Kagome’s expression began to soften, and she shuffled slowly toward the elevator buttons, her eyes never leaving Inuyasha. He could have sworn he saw a hint of regret and pity on her face, but she was fighting to hold onto that last bit of skepticism.
“How do you know that song?” he asked finally, a slight tremble audible in his voice. The second the question left his mouth he felt as if a heavy portion of the weight he’d been carrying all week had been lifted off of his shoulders.
In the span of a breath, Kagome moved toward Inuyasha and knelt in front of him. Her sudden movement caught him off guard, and he flinched so hard that he bumped the back of his head against the wall. There was concern in her eyes, and for the first time since he’d switched off the elevator, he felt hopeful about being able to salvage the situation.
“Let me take a look.” Her small hands were gentle as they gripped the one covering his eye and pulled it away from his face. She studied his injured eye, and the intense, sudden eye contact drove him to look down and away.
Kagome inched her body forward to get a closer look at what she’d done, and Inuyasha instinctively tried to move away, except that his back was already pressed against the wall and there was nowhere else to go. He wasn’t used to being this physically close to any human being, and her proximity made his heart race and every muscle in his body tense. If only he could sink into the wall behind him.
His heart rate accelerated further when he felt her warm breath on his face, causing the throbbing in his head to intensify. Despite the discomfort he was experiencing, he had to admit that he didn’t hate having her this close. Not when…
Not when she had such a nice scent.
As Kagome examined his eye, Inuyasha wondered how anyone could smell like spring and summer all at once, but she seemed to pull it off so well. In the 30 seconds she spent examining his eye, he inhaled enough wafts of lavender and vanilla to numb the pain in his eye and make him forget why they were in this predicament in the first place.
Her lips formed a pout as she sat back on her heels. “Yeah,” she concluded in a somber tone.”I definitely gave you a black eye. We need to get out of here and get some ice on that to slow down the swelling.”
His eye injury was the least of his problems. “Will you answer my question?” he asked, his head spinning as he stood up.
“Of course, I will. But let’s get your eye taken care of first,” she responded, getting to her feet and switching the elevator back on. Relief swept through Inuyasha as they resumed their descent to the ground floor.
Just before the elevator stopped at the lobby, she reached back and grabbed his hand, the sudden contact making his heart lurch. It left him speechless, and he wasn’t sure if he would have even complained had he been able to speak. So he just stood there, trying to deny that he thought it was endearing that her hand was too small to wrap completely around his. Instead he closed his eyes and focused on keeping his heart from breaking out of his chest and giving him away.
A sharp ping signaled their arrival on the ground floor. When they stepped into the lobby, Inuyasha fully expected to be stopped by a hotel staff member and reprimanded for the stunt he had pulled. Instead, they walked into a lobby of about ten staff members staring silently at the pair as if they had witnessed everything that happened between the pair and anticipated what was to come. Some even held tools in their hands, as if they had been preparing to dismantle the elevator but had never gotten around to it.
Kagome kept her eyes fixed on the exit while she pulled Inuyasha behind her. He turned his gaze away from their audience, but even so it was impossible to miss the short, redheaded staff member at the back of the group whose name tag read “Shippo.” The guy nodded his head as the two walked by, flashing Inuyasha a congratulatory smile and a thumbs up.
If his head wasn’t still throbbing, he would have asked him what he hell was looking at. Instead Inuyasha opted for hoping that by the end of the night this would have all been worth it.
///
Kagome stepped out of the convenience store with anything but the tub of mint chocolate ice cream that Miroku had requested.
Inuyasha sat at one of the tables outside and turned his head away sulkily as she walked toward him, still annoyed that she had made him wait outside while she shopped. He’d insisted that he was fine enough to go inside, even though his throbbing eye made his entire head pound in unison. But Kagome was persuasive and didn’t give up until she had gotten him to concede and stay put.
When she reached the table, she set down the plastic bag and pulled something out, proceeding to move it toward his face.
“What the hell are you doing?” He jerked his head away from the object.
“Stay still, will you?” she demanded, waiting for him to comply. His eyes slanted toward her and the object she held in her hand.
“I can do that myself,” he snapped, trying to take the ice pack from her. She was getting close to him again, and it was starting to affect him again the way it had back in the elevator.
Kagome swatted his hand away. “I gave you the black eye, so I have to nurse it back to health.”
Inuyasha snorted. He opened his mouth to protest, but as she drew near to him, her scent enveloped him again and all thoughts of pushing her away diminished.
He flinched when the cold compress met his eye. Despite the injury she had inflicted on him, he didn’t resent her at all regardless of how irritated and angry he seemed. In retrospect, he had deserved it for being so impulsive and scaring her, and he was lucky it hadn’t been worse since she seemed to know how to protect herself quite well.
Kagome’s voice brought him out of his contemplation. “I heard the song on a record.”
It took Inuyasha a moment to process her words. At first, he even thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. A look of bewilderment immediately crossed his face as he asked for clarification. “A record? What do you mean by a record?”
"As in a vinyl record,” she explained, repositioning the ice pack. “The song is on a vinyl record that I have."
Inuyasha shot up out of the chair, knocking the ice pack out of Kagome's hand and causing it to go flying toward the ground.
“That’s absurd! How would my mother's song end up on a record?” He shook his head. “No, this can’t be right. I must be mistaken afterall.”
"I was hoping you could tell me," Kagome responded. “I’ve been listening to this song for a year now with no idea as to who the artist is. Are you sure we’re even talking about the same song?”
Inuyasha ran his hands through his hair as he paced around in a small circle. “Trust me, I’ve been asking myself that same question since I saw your performance.”
“I guess that’s something we can answer right now,” Kagome said, sitting down in one of the chairs.
Inuyasha held his breath when she began to sing.
Can we meet at thе next stop?
I want to see your face
Let’s meet at the next green light
Let’s be a part of the scenery
I used to draw
When the two locked eyes simultaneously, they knew what their answer was.
"I need to see it. I need to see the record," he demanded.
"Of course. It's back at my place," she explained. "Why don't you go home and rest tonight, and tomorrow first thing in the morning we can - ”
"I need to see it now."
///
In the taxi, Inuyasha’s phone buzzed for the twentieth time that night, and he finally dared to look at it.
Sure enough there were twenty missed calls from Miroku.
He wasn’t in the mood to give explanations, but he thought it best to dial his friend back and at least let him know that he was alive. He just wasn’t sure about how he'd explain the sudden turn of events that were still unfolding.
Miroku answered on the first ring.
"Where the fuck are you?" he hissed into the phone.
Inuyasha decided that honesty was the best policy. "I'm on my way to Kagome's place."
Inuyasha imagined Miroku's eyes bugging out of his head at that very moment. It was the first time he’d heard Inuyasha pronounce those words.
After 10 long seconds, Miroku was finally able to speak. "You could have at least fucking texted! I was about to call the police and report you missing! Can you please explain to me what’s going on? One of the staff told me you'd walked out with a girl and a black eye.”
Inuyasha sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s kind of a long story, and we’re almost at her apartment.”
Sango could be heard shouting threats in the background. “If you harm one hair on Kagome's head, I’ll snap your neck!”
Miroku laughed nervously. “The next time I see you I don't know what I'm going to do first, beat your ass or congratulate you "
Inuyasha hung up, figuring that he couldn't be too upset. Thanks to Inuyasha, he'd have the rest of the night alone with his date.
When they made it to Kagome's high-rise, they argued over who would pay for the taxi, resulting in Kagome tossing Inuyasha’s fifty dollars out the cab window.
“You’re the injured one! I’ll pay for the cab!” she yelled, not only striking fear into Inuyasha but also the cab driver who couldn’t drive away fast enough after they exited the vehicle.
Inuyasha followed Kagome into the building, and as they boarded the elevator, they couldn’t help but smile. This time Kagome handled the buttons, and Inuyasha leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
Kagome looked back at him. “You know, if you really want to know if your mother shared her song with anyone, why don’t you just ask her?”
Inuyasha’s heart clenched. He had hoped she wouldn’t ask that question, but he had figured it was only a matter of time.
“You don’t think I would’ve thought of that?” he huffed. “I can’t…because she’s dead.”
Kagome’s hands went straight to her mouth. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“Don’t worry yourself,” he reassured her. “She died when I was a kid. So as you can clearly see, that’s why I had to find you.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me at the concert?”
“If you’d been easy to get to, I would’ve,” he responded. He kept it at that, not feeling like getting into the details of his attempt to get backstage.
Kagome led the way to her apartment door once they reached her floor. When she swung the door wide open, Inuyasha’s eyes were bombarded with green. Green walls, green accent pillows, green nicknacks. There was too much green and yet it all seemed to work somehow.
“Please, have a seat,” she said, motioning toward the couch. “Would you like something to drink? I have water, juice, soda.”
Inuyasha was too restless and nervous to sit down, so he remained standing. He simply shook his head. “No thanks.”
Kagome must have noticed the desperation in his eyes and simply nodded her head. She walked over to a bookcase and started flipping through a row of vinyl records.
“Here it is!” she exclaimed, holding it up triumphantly. “This is it.” She took a few steps forward and held it out to him.
Inuyasha couldn’t move fast enough. He practically ripped it from her hands and began to examine it, starting with the sleeve. He flipped it over several times only to find that both sides had no labels. No words to indicate the artist or the name of the song. Nothing to indicate who produced it or where it was produced.
He was more careful when handling the disk, and when he had pulled it out entirely he was only met with the same disappointment. Nothing on either side of the disc but his mother’s song on one side and oddly enough a second copy of the song on the b-side. There were no clues whatsoever to go off of.
Inuyasha’s shoulders sagged in defeat, but he knew he had to keep looking for answers. There had to be more.
“How did you get this?”
“It was a gift. It used to belong to the owner of a record store that used to be nearby. It wasn’t even on sale. It was part of his personal collection, and one day he just gave it to me. Exactly how you see it now, that’s how I received it,” she explained.
“How did he get it? Where did he get it? Did he tell you anything about it when he gave it to you? About the artist?”
If Kagome was feeling overwhelmed by his interrogation, she didn’t show it. “I asked him the same questions you’re asking me now. When I asked him about the artist, he couldn’t remember her name. The only thing he was able to tell me was that a friend had given it to him decades ago. A friend he’d lost touch with.”
“A friend?”
Kagome’s eyes widened as she remembered something. “He also mentioned that the singer had been a promising musician but that she had died in a tragic accident right before her debut. And his friend, the one who gave him the record, was the one who produced it.”
Inuyasha shook his head in disbelief. “No, that can’t be right. There has to be some other explanation for this because my mother wasn’t a musician. Give me the address of the record store.”
“There’s no point,” Kagome said. “The store closed down six months ago after the owner passed away.”
Inuyasha placed both of hands on his head while internally cursing his situation. What was he supposed to do with all of this information? How was he supposed to feel? He just couldn’t comprehend that his mother would keep such a big secret from him.
Inuyasha didn’t like to revisit the past. There was too much pain there, too much tragedy that overshadowed the happy moments.
His father had died when he was just a baby, and so his mother became his entire world. She was the only human that he could trust and put all his faith in. He recalled all the times she had promised never to keep secrets from him, to always be there to love him and protect him, to sing him to sleep every night.
She had already broken two of those promises when she died. How was he supposed to come to terms with the fact that his mother had actually broken them all?
The realization was too overwhelming, and Inuyasha was forced to take a seat on the couch so that he could try to make sense of his jumbled thoughts and emotions, which he had never been good at doing.
Kagome walked over to where he sat with his head buried in his hands and crouched down in front of him.
He couldn't see her face, but he could tell that her sympathy for him was sincere.
"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I had all of the answers that you need,” she lamented.
Inuyasha lifted his head up to look at her. It’d been ages since anyone had looked at him with concern.
“None of this is your fault,” he reassured her, fighting the urge to reach over and smooth out the crease between her brows.
Kagome reached behind him and grabbed the record. “Do you…do you still want to listen to it?”
Another question that Inuyasha had been dreading. He hadn't heard his mother's voice since he was nine years old. He'd lived 18 years without the real thing, only with the faint echo that he remembered. Part of him was dying to hear it. Another part of him held onto the hope that it wouldn't be his mother's voice on that record.
There was only one way to find out.
"Yes."
The time it took Kagome to stand up, walk across the room, and load the record onto the record player felt like an eternity.
Inuyasha's heart raced in anticipation, and when he heard the scratch of the needle on the record, his heart rate doubled.
It nearly stopped completely when her voice suddenly filled the room.
As if she had suddenly come back to life and was standing there in the room, his mother’s sweet, gentle voice began to fill every inch of that space. It rose and fell smoothly as it hit every note, taking him back to when he was nine years old again and lying in his bed while his mother tucked him into bed and lulled him to sleep.
Little by little, over your head
Soon the sunset will spread its colors
Across the sky
The shadows will dance along the twilight
As they grow longer
Can we meet at the next stop?
Let’s talk about the memories we shared
Let’s meet at the next green light
Let’s remember who we used to be
Will we reach the next world
Or will we never be able to leave?
But that had stopped being his reality a long time ago. He wasn’t that bright-eyed little boy with a mother who loved him anymore. That was all part of a past that he had ceased to look back on with joy after his mother had been ripped away from him and he was left to fend for himself.
Inuyasha knew that he was supposed to be happy that he’d found this piece of his mother, a new memory of hers to cherish, but any shred of joy he could have felt was overshadowed by the hurt, confusion and anger that was making it harder for him to breathe.
“Turn it off. Turn it off, please!” he screamed. His face was in his hands again and he tried to swallow back the lump that was forming in his throat.
Kagome fumbled with the record player until the music finally stopped.
He thought the silence would help him calm down, but it only emphasized how vulnerable he felt on top of everything else. He was already terrible at dealing with his own emotions when he was alone, but showing them in front of others was a different kind of hell he fought to avoid at all times.
Tonight he’d done a terrible job at avoiding that hell.
“I need to leave.” Inuyasha’s eyes were already on the door. He was afraid that if he met Kagome’s gaze, he might be tempted to stay. As much as he hated to admit it, her presence soothed him, but he just wasn’t ready to open up to anyone. He just wanted to go home where he could safely bury everything and forget.
Kagome was taken aback. "What? You shouldn't leave like this, not when you're this upset. Let me make you some tea."
Inuyasha rose from the couch, the weight of the day making the rest of his body feel heavy.
“Thanks, but I don’t think tea is going to fix any of this.”
“Stay, please. I know we’re just strangers, but I care. We can sit and talk about this. Or at least let me call Miroku to take you home.” she offered, trying frantically to get him to stay.
“I said that I want to leave,” Inuyasha said a little more forcefully.
“Wait!” she pleaded, running back to the record player and scrambling to fit the record into its sleeve. “At least don’t forget to take this. It belongs to you.”
She held it out to him, but Inuyasha made no move to take it.
“I don’t want it. Break it, burn it, throw it away, I don't care,” he snapped bitterly.
Kagome's eyes became teary. “Are you out of your mind? I know you didn’t find out about all of this in the best way, but you can’t possibly be serious? You're not even the last bit happy about finding this record?”
“You’re no one to tell me how I should feel!” he fired back without thinking. He immediately regretted the words once they came out of his mouth and the harsh tone with which he’d said them, but it was too late. They instantly did their damage.
Kagome thrust the record into Inuyasha's hands. “Your mother must have had her reasons for not telling you. Don't you hear it? She left a piece of herself in every single word of this song, and you want to destroy that? You want to toss it into the garbage like it doesn't mean anything? If that is what you really want, then you can do it yourself because I won’t."
Inuyasha stood motionless for a second, letting her words sink in, but the rage he felt overpowered every thought and emotion that tried to break through its surface. Reason told him that she was right, but his anger wouldn't allow him to admit it.
Inuyasha walked out of Kagome's apartment, all the while fighting the urge to look back and catch a glimpse of her face one last time before he shut himself away and delved into his thoughts alone.
On his way out of the building, Inuyasha passed by a trashcan and despite everything he'd said to Kagome, he couldn’t bring himself to throw away the record.
Because everything she’d said to him made sense. In one night he'd recovered a valuable memory of his mother, one that had him questioning everything he'd ever believed about her, but a memory of her nonetheless.
When he arrived at his apartment, he was tempted to go straight to bed and sleep off the physical and emotional exhaustion that threatened to break him. Instead he walked over to his closet and rummaged around until he found an automated turntable that Miroku had purchased for him years ago when he was going through a vinyl records phase. He lugged it over to his bedside table, dusted it off, and carefully loaded the record.
Inuyasha lay down on his bed, letting his mother's voice and the melody of the song surround him. He’d held back in Kagome’s apartment, but this time he didn’t fight the urge to cry and let his tears flow freely for the first time in years. He cried until his sobs racked his body and the anger that had enshrouded him finally cleared away.
Why? he wondered.
Why had his mother never told him about her dream to become a singer? If she'd been able to pursue that dream to the point of recording a song, why had she never shared that with him? His mother had always promised that there would never be any secrets between them. So why had she kept something so important from him?
It hurt so much to realize that he would never know the answers to those questions. His mother was the only one who could answer them, but she was gone, and he knew he had to come to terms with never knowing. At the same time, he had to come to terms with the fact that his mother had died without fulfilling her dream. And that caused him even more pain that he'd have to learn to deal with.
Now that he was alone he was able to close his eyes and truly savor the music. The longer he listened, the more he realized that Kagome had been right. There was a piece of his mother in every word she sang, in every delicate note her voice reached, in every inhale she took between words, in every piece of the melody, she was there and very much alive through her music.
And he couldn't deny it but Kagome was there, too. When he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but hear her gentle voice interwoven with his mother’s.
When the song ended, he rose from his bed to flip the record over, even though the b-side contained another copy of the song. He wasn’t exactly sure why he did it, perhaps out of habit or nostalgia for the days when he was obsessed with records. He also just wanted to hear the song at least one more time before going to sleep.
He lay on his bed as it played a second time, and he felt a little less grief than before. For the first time since his mother had died, there was hope that the song would recover its original purpose, to comfort and remind him of happier times instead of serving as a cruel reminder of his loss.
After the song ended, Inuyasha expected the needle to automatically return to its original position and for the turntable to shut off. After 10 seconds, he sat up, finding it odd that the record was still spinning and that the needle hadn’t moved. He got to his feet to shut off the turntable himself when a random crackling noise startled him and he jumped, nearly falling back onto his bed.
His hands were just above the needle when he heard the sound of laughter coming from the turntable. The sound scared him so intensely that it sent him stumbling backward until he stood in the center of his bedroom, completely paralyzed.
It was his mother’s laughter.
“We did it! We did it!” she cheered. “My Inuyasha is going to love it! I can’t wait for him to hear it!” Her words were accompanied by whistling and applause in the background.
And just as suddenly as her voice had projected from the record player, it disappeared just as quickly.
When the shock finally wore off, tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. He'd never thought it was possible to cry tears of joy, at least not until now
///
It took Inuyasha a week to muster enough courage to show up at Kagome’s work to apologize. He’d crossed out looking for her at her apartment, since he didn’t get off work until five and at dinner she had mentioned that she’d be working the afternoon shift all week.
He'd also crossed out asking Miroku to help him get her phone number. He loved his friend dearly, but Miroku was nosy and had been badgering him to divulge the details of his impromptu night with Kagome all week as it was. Inuyasha wasn’t quite ready to share those details with him just yet, so he decided to take an alternative route.
Inuyasha walked through the doors of the Tokyo House half an hour before they were set to close. In all fairness he’d arrived at the restaurant four hours prior, but it took him three and a half to compose himself at a nearby cafe and practice what he was going to say. Not that it did him any good since he immediately forgot everything when he walked in and saw her standing on the stage at the back corner of the room and singing her heart out.
He slowly approached the stage, and when she finally noticed him, she stuttered over the lyrics for a brief moment. However, just like the professional she was, she composed herself quickly and finished out the song beautifully.
When her performance was over, Kagome hopped off the stage in the middle of her audience’s applause and met him halfway.
“Hey,” she said walking up to him, her hands clasped together behind her back. “Nice shiner you’re sporting there.”
Her lips formed into a small, and relief flooded through Inuyasha upon noticing that she didn’t seem to hate him after their last encounter at her apartment after all.
Inuyasha folded his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer than this thing ever will since the girl who gave it to me didn’t really seem to put much effort into it.”
Kagome’s eyes lit up at his joke, making Inuyasha feel even more at ease. He could do this.
“Can we sit down for a moment?” he finally asked, getting serious.
Kagome nodded, and turning to one of her co-workers she signaled that she’d be taking a five minute break. Then she led him to an empty table toward the back of the restaurant where they could talk in private.
Once they had both sat down across from each other, Inuyasha blurted out, “I came to apologize.”
An intense heat spread across his face, but he continued his apology before he could chicken out.
“I lashed out at you when you were just trying to help, and I’m…I’m sorry.”
He immediately wanted to go crawl in a hole, for the earth to open up and swallow him whole, to disappear into thin air. He wasn’t used to apologizing, and the vulnerability he felt was making his insides squirm.
But ultimately it was worth it if it meant that he could see her again and somehow convince her to remain a part of his life.
Admitting he messed up was also worth it just to see the hint of another smile on her lips.
“So you didn’t…?” her voice trailed off, but Inuyasha had no trouble understanding what she was referring to.
Inuyasha shook his head. “No, of course not. I would have never been able to destroy it, no matter how angry I was. If anything had happened to that record, I would have never learned the truth."
He explained the discovery he'd made at the end of the b-side track, and the news had Kagome lamenting the fact that she'd never listened to the track all the way through but also tearing up from joy.
“I can’t believe what you’re telling me!" she exclaimed. "I’m so happy that the record could bring you just a little bit of peace and closure. I know it doesn’t explain everything, but it’s better than nothing, right?”
Inuyasha nodded as he mentally geared up to tell her one more important thing. He took a deep breath.
"There's something else I need to tell you." Inuyasha was glad that the restaurant was dimly lit and hoped that it concealed at least partly that he was struggling to get the words out.
"Of course, what is it?"
"My mother's song…" He swallowed hard. "I want you to keep singing it. Only if you want to, of course. But if you do...I think it'd be a great way to, you know, keep her memory alive."
This time Kagome couldn't hold back the tears, and she started to bawl.
"Of course I...I'd be honored!" she said in between sobs.
Inuyasha couldn't quite understand it, but he felt the desire to wrap his arms around her. He wanted to wipe her tears away. Inhale her scent again…
He almost gave himself a second black eye to match the first for allowing himself to think such absurd thoughts. Still, he couldn't quite understand what was so absurd about them.
When Kagome had composed herself again, Inuyasha asked one final question.
"So…do you forgive me for acting like an asshole?”
Kagome placed her hands on her lap and taking a deep breath, she said, "Only if you can forgive me, too. I should have been more understanding of your reaction. I let my own emotions about the situation get in the way, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
The words “I forgive you” felt odd coming out of his mouth. Rarely was he asked for forgiveness, so he wasn’t used to using those words. Saying them to Kagome, however, didn’t seem so daunting.
Hearing them from Kagome was another thing entirely, and he felt like he would finally breathe when she said them back.
Inuyasha hoped this wasn't it. He didn't know what to say or do next. All he knew was that he wasn't ready to leave. Not yet.
He was relieved when Kagome came up with a better idea than saying goodbye. "I know how we can really make it up to each other!" she exclaimed. "Let's make up for Friday's dinner. There's a really great ramen place just around the corner. Dinner's on me. And you can make up for the dessert we never had. What do you say?"
“Deal,” he agreed, the word coming out a little earlier than he’d intended it to.
“Ok, then! It’s a date!” Even in the dim lighting her eyes lit up as brightly as if it were day.
It's just dinner, Inuyasha repeated to himself several times as he waited for her to grab her things. It's not a date.
But then his heart fluttered when he saw Kagome burst through the double doors that separated the dining area from the kitchen and walk cheerfully toward him, and he couldn't deny it anymore. Everything about her existence stirred up emotions within him that he thought he’d never feel again.
But it wasn’t a date, he reminded himself. Yet, when she walked up to him, linked arms with him, and guided him out of the restaurant and into the cool night air, it felt like just that.
It was a date.