In the summer of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed.

"I'm not depressed."

It was cold in the exam room. It always was, but the stiff hospital gown doesn't help that. I'm not surprised though. It's the same exam room that I've been going to since my diagnosis. Well, almost. The other one had mint green walls, this room had a fresh coat of white paint with butterfly stickers slapped haphazardly in an attempt to look frolick. Someone must've been done that day. I let my feet dangle off the exam table as my mom, ignoring me, continued on to my doctor, Kaede. The old hag's been my doctor since the beginning of all this mess. She was a hefty old woman, with her back hunch slightly and a black eyepatch over her right eye.

"... He's not eating as much as he used to; He only finished half of his noodles the other night, He won't leave the house unless we force him out..."

I groaned, "I'm not depressed."

"He reads the same book over and over.."

Mom cast one of her reproachful look at me but then cuts back to Kaede who declared,

"He's depressed."

Damn traitor.

"I'm not depressed, you old hag!" I exclaim, scowling at the white diamond pattern on my gown. Every booklet and know-it-all with a degree in something or another will list depression as a side effect of cancer. Depression isn't a side effect of cancer.

"InuYasha!"

It's a side effect of dying. Which is what was happening to me.

Mom swatted me in the arm with some cancer booklet. Nice Mom, hit me with even more cancer. I imagine this round it might be easier. I snorted continuing to dangle my feet.

"Kaede, really. Some days he won't even get out of bed."

Mom's delicate hands tightened on the booklets, twisting it against the purse that sat on her lap. A bubble of shame sat on my chest for a second. She was just scared and worried. But I wasn't.

Kaede rests an aged hand on my Mom's. Her brown eye flickered up to look at me.

"I may switch you to Zoltrance. Or Lexoft could help. Perhaps twice a day instead of once."

Gods, more pills. At this rate, I'll have kidney failure in my twenties.

If I make it to my twenties.

"Why stop there?"

Kaede brow rose as I continued, "Keep 'em coming. I'm the Keith Richards of cancer kids."

Another swat to my arm with a booklet. Ooh, that one was green. "Keh."

"InuYasha, have you gone to the support group my sister, Kikyo, suggested?"

My head lolled on my shoulders towards the direction of my mom a fresh scowl on my face. Mom grimaced.

"He's gone a few times."

"It's not for me." I drawled.

"If you're depressed-" Kaede started while I mumbled another 'I'm not.' under my breath, "-support groups are a great way to connect with people who are…."

She trailed off lightly, a thoughtful expression on her face as she fiddled with the excess string of her eye patch behind her neat bun. Gods, what was she going to say this time. People always had a funny way of dancing around that word. Just say it babaa, Dying.

"..On the same journey."

I groaned loudly, a hand scrubbing down my face. "Really? Journey? Really?"

Dammit, I had faith in you, old hag.

"InuYasha." Moms tone made my tongue feel like lead in my mouth. I was pushing it, I already knew. I couldn't help it though, this whole appointment was turning ridiculous.

"Give it a chance, InuYasha. For me?" Kaede softened a touch. She was doing the old lady look. The look that grandmas will give to edge people into doing their bidding. I've lost this battle.

Support group.

It's run in the basement of some western temple they built in the 80's. Some branch of Christian I won't bother trying to pronounce. Our group was held in the basement with a 'monk' with too much time on his hands.

I huffed as I sat down on the seat angled closest to the door and the farthest in the circle from Miroku. Most of the chairs were filling up as kids around my age or slightly younger sat down in whatever was available. Each kid looking sicker than the last.

Miroku settled in with a guitar at the ready, strumming a chord with a flourish as he said'

"We are gathered here today-literally- in the heart of Buddha," Gods this was the lamest thing I could be doing right now, "Who would like to share their story with the group?"

I slouch lower in my chair, arms crossed on my stomach. As we went around the circle. A pale kid, definitely younger than fourteen with a blue scarf wrapped on her head stood.

"Rin. Thirteen. Lymphoma."

Another kid, this time closer to my age but ashen in complexion with pure white hair stood next and in a soft voice said,

"Kanna. Sixteen, Ewing Sarcoma."

It's only been fifteen minutes now and I'm already bored. I take a calming breath resting my head back for a minute, coming right back up in time for Miroku to speak. Joy.

"Miroku. Twenty-Five, Testicular. It started a few years ago when I was…"

I'll spare the details of Miroku's ball cancer. They found it in his nuts basically, cut most of it out, he almost died but didn't, and now here he is. Exploiting his cancertastic past in the heart of Buddha, to show us that one day- if we're lucky- we could be just like him.

Feh.

In unison, the circle says, "We're here for you Miroku."

My voice is the deepest and the least enthusiastic. Feh.

I fix my breathing tube carefully, being sure not to pinch it as I move it aside to rest on top of my hands.

"Anyone else would like to share?" Miroku asks leaning on his acoustic to gaze out to the other kids. I made the mistake of meeting his eyes.

"InuYasha?" He gestures for me to speak, an encouraging smile on his face. Reluctantly I stand, flicking my eyes around to all the sick kids before studying the rug.

"Uh, InuYasha, Seventeen. Thyroid originally but with quite the impressive satellite colony in my lungs."

I couldn't find much to say after that, I was about to sit when Miroku asked, "And how are you doing InuYasha?"

What, besides terminal cancer? I pause for a beat then with a frown I replied,

"Alright? I guess…?" I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding slowly. Miroku nods while I sit down. I managed to make eye contact with the girl across the circle from me, her hair was a soft black and she seemed to be one of the healthiest one in the group. I think her name was Kagome. She was holding back an amused smile.

The room stilled in a beat of awkward silence before Miroku said,

"Maybe now I'll play a song..."

Gods, this was gonna be a long hour and thirty minutes.

That was my life. Watching reality shows. Doctors appointments. Eight prescription drugs, four times a day, hovering parents. And worst, worst, worst of all…

"You cannot make me."

Support group.

Dad replied from the stove, flipping an egg but snagging the yolk on the edge, "Of course we can, we're your parents."

I scowl in response. Mom poured me a glass of juice and passed me alone with it a hearty breakfast of drugs. Oh and some rice porridge. I slid my bowl to my older brother Sesshomaru and stole a pickled radish from him. He scowls at me, his nose delicate in its scrunch and silver bangs perfect, pushing back the porridge in my direction.

"There's a plate right there, Runt."

I grinned mischievously around his precious radish and prescription pills, "It tastes better when they're stolen."

I raised my glass of orange juice mockingly then downed the glass. He scowled even harder and half way through my chugging he grumbled, "When are you gonna die so I can finally be at peace in my own home."

There was a soft sarcastic undertone to it that I caught only before I choked on my drink.

I snorted as Dad flicked him in the ear. His face thunderous. We usually don't joke like that in front of them. It's still a sensitive topic, I guess. Sesshomaru stabbed his chopstick through a radish, the only indication of his annoyance on his impassive face.

"Enough, Sesshomaru," Dads tone disapproving as he slid a bowl of porridge in front of Mom, "InuYasha, you need to get out of the house and make some friends. Be a teenager."

I scowled again, "If you want me to be a teenager, don't send me to the support group. Buy me a fake I.D. so I can go to clubs and take pot."

Next to me Sesshomaru, The Bastard, smirked, "You don't take pot."

I slapped my hand on the table, "That's the kind of thing I would know with a fake ID!"

Hoping that the exclamation would further my point.

"Get in the car InuYasha." Mom said a smile playing on her lips as she crooked her finger at Sesshomaru, "And you, young man how do you know that, come here let me fix your braid, it's crooked." I gazed at the chopsticks on the table, slowly raising them and mock plunging them into my gut, moaning dramatically as I fall to the floor from the chair. The old man isn't impressed but I saw Sesshomaru smile a bit.

And so I went. Not because I wanted to or because I thought it would help. But for the same reason I did anything these days. I turn to really look at my mother. She had her hair in a bun today, She looked tired, and her skin was a little paler than it should be. Mom pulled up to the front of the church, smiling prettily.

I did it to make them happy.

"Are you gonna sit there the whole time?" I drawled, lifting my oxygen tank to rest up right off the sidewalk, half my body poised out of the car. She rubbed her hands down her jeans nervously,

"No, no, of course not… I … have errands to run… " she trailed off hesitant. I know she doesn't have any errands to run. But I don't press the issue, finally pushing up and out of the car with a mumbled 'sure'.

"Make some friends!" she calls after me. I shake my head. The only thing worse than biting it from cancer - is having a kid bite it from cancer. Entering the lobby I made my way to the elevator. This twig of a kid in a wheelchair, more dead than alive holds it open for me from the inside. I think better of it.

"I'll take the stairs. Thanks."

The kid nods and lets the elevator slide close. There's always that reminder that things could be worse. I swallow the dryness in my throat and turn towards the direction of the stairs, bumping into a solid wall of muscle. Muscle guy grunted out a quiet 'oof'

"Shit - Uh… " I said flicking my gaze to catch a chiseled features, a smirk and jet black hair tied in a ponytail on top of his head. His eyes were a bright and electrifying sort of blue and I staggered a bit under them. I felt the air still and my mouth dry up like sandpaper.

Gods, He was really handsome.

"My bad." His voice was deep and rich like honey.

I felt my cheeks heat, "No, its… um, excuse me." I grunted out and and flew around the corner to the mens bathroom. There I sagged against the door, counting my breath by the one thousandths.

One- one thousand..

In front of me stood a mirror, long and innocent but evil in the way it showed my reflection.

Two- one thousand..

Short cropped white hair, pale cheeks from long days inside and dim amber eyes under fluorescent light. I watch a frail hand connected to an equally slim arm reach to tug at a strand, staring as it fell to grip on the handle of my oxygen tank. For a moment I let myself imagine...

Keh. To hell we go.

Notes: Thank You so much for reading! I hope to have the next chapter up within the next week or two until then please review! 3