A trike of inspiration has hit me and I feel the need to get this down on paper. Feel free to ask me any questions...also it's a challenge for me to write in 1st person POV so if I use 'his' or 'her' instead of my when needed and don't see the error please let me know. Thank you...Now, the story must go on!

Kagome's POV

I wasn't expecting it. Really. I had no idea until it was too late. To think, it all started with an innocent coffee shop.

I was walking up to the cafe, my normal route. Random gaggles of girls would come streaming by, accompanied by their writing-invested boyfriends. So would businessmen, and people that just sincerely enjoyed coffee. I was certainly one of those people.

Just the smell of coffee grinds calmed down my senses and the soft murmur of people clicking away on laptops made me feel at home. No...This was home.

"Kagome!"

A flash of bright black, color treated hair bounced around. I felt the corners of my mouth naturally turn upward.

"Hey...sorry I'm late. Some asshole at McDonald's ripped me off."

Ayame frowned.

"Wow...that sucks. Shame, I like their fries," She consoled. "Don't worry about it Hun. Our lovely "boss" called in sick today!"

We both let out a simultaneous 'Whoop whoop!' and giggled.

"I believe this calls for a toast," I declared, rushing into the kitchen. I poured two quick Frappuccino, watching as its caramel deliciousness filled the cups, and then squirted ridiculously high loads of whip cream on top.

"Cheers! To our boss being gone!" Ayame cheered. We bumped each others cups in a congratulatory fashion, even though the cups didn't actually 'clink'.

The big boss being gone was about the only reason to have a fiesta. She had long, black hair. Black hair so black it looked like an endless vortex ready to suck a sucker straight into it to where they'd never return. Her eyes were just as black, just as dangerous.

This wasn't even a harsh judgment; her actions were worse.

Ever since I could remember, she would always ask for us to work harder. To put in more hours. To always smile. To walk with shoulders back and never, ever slouch. In other words...to be perfect little robots.

"Uh...sorry to be the party pooper. Looks like we've got another customer," She whispered, then took a long gulp as if parting ways with the last dessert she'd ever have.

I shook my head, holding back a laugh.

"Don't worry. I'll get it."

The costumer had long blue hair...which looked rather odd to me considering the only guys with long hair that I knew didn't have hair THAT long and THAT bright. A piercing adorned his nose saying to the world, "Look at me, I'm tough." It took a lot of effort not to roll my eyes.

"Hello, my name is Kagome, how may I serve you?"

"Um...I'll have...let's see." The guy squinted at the menu for what seemed like a small eternity with a dazed look in his eyes. Was this guy high or something?

"Sir? Are you alright?"

His eyes widened as if waking up from a long coma.

"Yeah umm...I'll have some of that black stuff."

I couldn't help but raise a brow. "You mean...coffee?"

"Yeah yeah, some of that."

"That'll be right up sir," I assured him, more for the purpose of creating some space between me and this real weirdo.

I gave Ayame a look that stated 'I have to serve this guy?' but she merely shrugged, pointing to the little plaque above the big black door that read "We will help you with the best-quality service around!" I shot her dark glare, yet nonetheless brewed up the coffee.

"Okay sir, that'll be a dollar seventy-five."

The strange guy that almost looked like thing one or thing two pulled out a wrinkled five dollar bill and shoved it in my hand. Half-way between counting out change I looked up to find he had already left.

"Weird..." I muttered.

Ayame and her excellent sense of timing came waltzing next to me. "Wow...what a guy huh? I bet he does drugs. Lots of em. Probably dropped out of high school."

"Talk about," I nodded in agreement. "He probably owns a really expensive car and lives in it. I bet he eats Chinese food in there."

"Yeah? I bet he goes to church a lot too...you know. One of those hypocritical church-goers. I bet he has a daughter that he's training to become an assassin for him."

I laughed at the absurdity of her guessing. It was almost a ritual, to do people watching and guess what their lives were like, like we were so high and mighty. It was made even funnier when the people that came in were almost perfect-appearing with dresses and black suits, then we'd come up with the most outrageous stories that would have both of us in tears. It was that kind of ridiculous bonding that made Ayame like a sister to me.

The day dragged on in on slowly, like extended family that had long-since overstayed their welcome. It was just one of those days. Sure, people would come floating in every now in then, but hardly anyone came on Sundays.

But it was these kinds of days I didn't mind. After all, this was my home, where I made hard earned money to help out. I can't remember once complaining to my family about it.

Inuyasha's POV

"How about we do this, Mr. Takahashi. You get a low-key job, something small and inconspicuous. Oh, and perhaps you should change your name?" Mr. Myoga suggested, tweaking his tiny, easily rip-off-able beard.

My hands clenched so tightly blood started to leak.

"I don't wanna have to do all that shit alright! Isn't there anything else we could do? Some other option?"

A thin sheen of sweat cloaked his face. "I...I'm sorry Mr. Takahashi. There's not much you can do. Your family doesn't really care about-"

His face started to turn purple from my strong death grip. A shade he was going to get accustomed to if he didn't offer some better words of wisdom. Reluctantly I let go.

He gasped for air, staring at me wide-eyed.

"I swear Mr. Takahashi," He spoke through heavy breaths, "that's the only way...I mean, unless you'd like to get a death sentence or life in jail...if you're lucky."

We glared at each other in a long moment of stony silence. Jail was the last place I wanted to go...I gulped, not wanting to consider death. I finally broke the long, dragged out silence.

"What about the inheritance, huh old man?"

Nerves fired through my body.

"There's none under your name, son." I felt my heart stop beating. I don't know why...It was expected. It probably all went to Sesshomaru, that bastard..."I'm sorry. There is...one other option though."

I lunged my hands out to choke him.

"What is it? Tell me right now goddammit!"

"Youcouldrunaway!" He managed through one breath.

I softened my grip. Running away...Even I thought of that. Where would I go? Friggin' New Mexico? I had to take care of my mother.

"No."

"You sure? It would likely be the most practical option-"

I raised my hands up. Smart for him, he took note of the threat and quieted.

"What was that first plan of yours? Changing my name and living low-key? Let's go with that option."

He nodded numbly. I began talking more to myself than him.

"Yes, that's what I'll do. Get a cheap job, change my name...hell, I'll change my whole damn appearance. A fresh start..." I whispered.

"Certainly Mr. Takahashi."

"Quit calling me that. Call me Inuyasha."

"Inuyasha," Mr. Myoga rephrased, "Here's what we'll do. I know someone with just the job you're looking for. A local coffee shop." He started scribbling down a number. "They need all the help they can get."

I greedily ripped the number from his hands, stuffing it in my jean pocket.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"And Inuyasha, I'd like to give you one last piece of advice-"

He glanced up. I was already gone.

Myoga rubbed his forehead. 'What a stubborn kid...'