Cold, chipped, pastel green tiles spread across the walls like a disease as an expiring florescent bulb expunged its last breaths. The mirror reflected it twice fold as a young woman - somewhere in her late twenties - smeared blood across her porcelain face. Her pupils were wired, dark eyes sunken as she blinked away the moisture creasing her lashes. Her nose was still bleeding on one side, and the crook of her thumb caught what it could.
The euphoria spilling through her body looked a lot more beautiful in contrast to the starkness of the public restroom. She felt her body's electrical current bloom as though a galaxy was born in her and time sped up.
She lolled her head back, spilling into her inky cradle of hair. She let out an aching laugh as the music from the outside beat its way into the partition.
Her skin reverberated against the bass and she casually looked down at the dirty sink with a crookedly rolled note. The currency was stained. It was used many times and was flakey from the dried blood.
Idly, she blotted the excess from her face and cleaned up her mess. She was truly alive. She knew it. For the next little while she would be consumed by that snowy powder, and she relished in it.
Before she left the calm of the bathroom, she held her breath and placed her long fingers on the latch - knowing all too well that her boyfriend already knew what she had done.
"Well, you can brush it off and carry on. There's nothing in your purse, pocket, or person." The woman smiled weakly, pressing on the sweetest face she could muster.
The sheer volume of the music billowing through the small venue opened her ears and pulsed through her stomach as she wound her way through throngs of people. At the dimly lit bar, she found him.
He was drinking a whiskey, as he was so privy to do. And he smiled warmly at her beneath the patchiness of his graying stubble. "You took a long time, are you alright?" He eyed the lanky woman idly, quirking a thick brow.
The woman nodded, chewing on the tip of her thumb nail, eating away at the residual cocaine. "Inuyasha, I swear I'm fine. Are you almost ready to go home? It's getting kind of late." She countered, watching his hands feather his long peppery hair in dismay.
Rolling his eyes, he downed his whiskey and grabbed his leather coat from the neighboring stool. "Mind telling me why since this was your idea, anyway." The man rasped, staring at the flickers of neon light that strobed over her pallid face.
She batted her eyes back at him, coyly dismissing the fact her heart felt like exploding and her stomach was turning as she stared at the discoloration of his eyes, the ones that could see through stone.
"I just wanted it to be the two of us. This place is crowded and too loud!" She exclaimed, something she rarely did.
Inuyasha shook his head and took her hand, and felt something wet in her palm. Instead of looking or making a scene - which, he did have a tendency of doing - he waited until they had passed through the waves of patrons and made their way to the mouth of Shinjuku.
"Kikyo, why is your hand so wet?" He asked idly, somehow already knowing the answer as the cool breath of winter nipped at his exposed skin.
The woman pulled away, holding her hand as though she were injured. She breathed a plume of her body heat into the night and shook her head. "My hand is fine."
Inuyasha reached into his pocket for a cigarette and let out a heaving sigh. "You honestly think I don't know what you did? What you've been doing? You're not clean." He said harshly, watching her body begin to quake.
She didn't cry. No, she was too reserved to show him how upset she really was. "I've been doing very well, thank you. I only do it on special occasions and I don't have a problem." She said as passively as she could.
The man stared towards the illuminated city before him and closed his eyes. This had been going on for the last year of their relationship. She would do better, fall off, do better, then she would be completely gone.
It had taken a toll on him. He felt withered and old in comparison. He had his own fair share of problems and addictions but nothing quite like that. Kikyo was a skilled dancer and was primed for so many opportunities and gave it away for her addiction.
She would sell her clothing, furniture, borrow money, steal from certain people occasionally and it had become too overwhelming. Loving her was easy, but staying to love her was a dutiful job that required his full attention in order to protect her; especially from her own willfulness.
As he flicked his cigarette into the crosswalk, he let out a sigh. The fire was burnt out, the arguments were over. The disappointment wasn't disappointing anymore, and the promises were just pretty little words that spilled out of her mouth.
She was dragging him to hell with her, and he really couldn't stop it. She'd bat those dark eyes, and run her fingers through his long hair and use that smooth voice to fill up any void she came across.
But as he looked at her, watching the hollows of her cheeks sinking into canyons and the light in her eyes dimming, he knew that she was dying.
He couldn't send her back to rehab. He couldn't send her away again, or fucking make her help herself and conquer the disease living inside of her.
Even now, as they passed by a strip of centrally located apartments and their neon lights, he could see her becoming more and more lifeless as she moved less gracefully than she ever had.
He wondered who she had gotten it from this time, if she had paid for it or slept with someone for it, if she had done too much, if she had more.
And then as his bootclad feet hit the sidewalk, he turned to the woman and gripped her hand. "Do you have any more?" He said quietly.
Kikyo blinked. Furrowing her brows, she shook her head profusely, "No, Inuyasha. Why?"
The man scoffed and let a sardonic smile crawl along his lips. "Maybe I want some." He said as a matter of factly.
The woman felt anger building in her fragile body. She pursed her lips and stared incredulously. "You know how I feel about you saying that!" She seethed , still more calmly than anyone he'd ever met.
"That's how it feels, Kikyo. While you live in your imaginary world for thirty minutes, I'm watching you dissolve into nothing. " He said darkly, standing before her with his head resting close to hers. He inspected her features for a moment before turning away.
"Take me to my sister's. I'm not coming home with you." Kikyo said, as though she were too helpless to walk there the two blocks alone. Though deep down she knew that he would never leave her alone, truthfully. Even though they weren't truly together anymore, or were they? She didn't even know anymore.
He had flinched at the notion and she knew exactly why. Her heart would sink lower into her chest if she let it, but she ignored the small flush on the man's face and hid her disdain for her sister as she sniveled against the cold.
It was better than being alone with her thoughts all night. And better than being scolded like a child, when she obviously was not. Inuyasha didn't drive her to this, though he felt like he did.
The woman's depression ate at her as though it was a creature marring her very being until she could no longer recognize herself. She was often stoic, quiet, a shadow of her former self and she felt the vast valley flood in between the two of them.
Everything blurred together and days felt like weeks and months. She knew that Inuyasha was too pure at his core and the very warmth of the hand that she held was so foreign now. She had tampered with something so very dangerous and absolved to listen to its siren song. The repercussion of her decisions left a sadness looming over her lithe frame as they walked.
She fought the wave of chills that slithered just beneath the surface of her skin as she listened to the man's preaching. He was not perfect, though he was much more alive and in tune with himself than she was.
They had been together off and on for five years. Five long, wonderfully turbulent years.
And as they found themselves weaving through a small alleyway, near a set of smooth concrete steps and twinkle lights, she knew that she would be faced with her sister.
A deepening sense of unrest swatted at the woman as she noticed the man next to her change expression. He didn't have to say anything. She could see it on his face, in his eyes as they surmounted the obstacle to ring the tiniest of doorbells.
Kagome lived in a tiny, cute apartment. She was lively, rambunctious and two years younger. She clenched her jaw at the yellow light peering through the small curtain to obstruct outsiders from seeing into Kagome's abode.
It had small flecks of sequins sewn into a lavender fabric with crescent moons and interwoven wands. Kikyo silently scrutinized the damned fabric as she rolled her eyes to Inuyasha and watched him fidget with the collar of his jacket.
He was nervous. Not like the nauseating nervousness that ate at her. She was coming down and felt like the world was crushing her bones into ash.
She had never known for sure if anything had happened between Kagome and Inuyasha, but it always seemed as though it had.
He seemed impatient as he rang at the doorbell again, slightly fumbling on his feet for her to answer. Kikyo's bloodshot eyes absorbed all of this and she sighed in relent, which garnered the retrieval of her hand in his once more.
After a few moments, the sound of feet pattering against the wooden floor became louder and louder. When the latch moved, Inuyasha's grip tightened as they were greeted by Kagome's cherubic face and rosy cheeks.
She was wearing a pair of head phones around her neck and her hair high in a ponytail as the scent of food permeated through the alleyway. She looked taken-a-back, "This is a surprise!" The girl said, pressing a crooked smile across her face.
Inuyasha could barely look at the girl, yet he held Kikyo's hand in the air. "I have a drop off." He said nonchalantly, as though the woman couldn't speak for herself.
Kagome waved them in and gestured at the small kitchen near the entrance, "I'm making dinner if you're hungry." She said, welcoming them into the warmth of her home. "Sango-chan won't be home until late, so it'll be nice to have the company."
Kikyo glowered beneath her smooth bangs as they ushered themselves in. She slipped off her heels and slide off her heavy red coat and took a seat at the table.
She felt like she'd been thrown from a cliff, and felt every bone in her body ache. Her eyes glistened beneath the low hanging cheap chandelier as she watched Kagome slide across the floor to the stove.
"What are you two doing tonight? It's always nice when you come by. I haven't seen you for a while. I hope everything's been okay." The girl said idly, brushing her hands on a yellow apron their mother had bought her for Christmas.
Kikyo chewed at her lip as she looked over her shoulder at Inuyasha as he sprawled out on the girl's couch like he lived there. "I've been great. I got a new job offer at my company and I went out to celebrate." She said, reaching to the fridge handle from her chair. Like hell she was getting up because the room was spinning.
"Congratulations." Kagome nodded, gliding to the fridge as she swatted Kikyo's hand away, already knowing she would want orange juice, a yogurt and three saltines. After a binge, Kikyo always had to have the holy trinity.
Kagome never said a word about it. She couldn't change it, and just made her as comfortable as possible until she either passed out or vomited. "I'm really proud of that. Have you been eating enough? I saw Sota last week and he sure has been." She chuckled, setting down her sister's juice.
Inuyasha opened his mouth to say something, and Kagome just shot him a knowing glance, which shut up him.
"Not really, too be honest. I haven't had much of an appetite." Kikyo smirked, wriggling her nose. It itched. It felt like the blood had dried and left her sore and raw. "Besides, I'm at that age where I'll start losing my girlish figure. Men don't like to be around women that don't take care of themselves."
Kagome sighed, and knew it was a shot at the man in the living room. She let it go in one ear and out the other as she poured broth into the pot and mixed in a thick blob of hot chili paste.
"Did you want to stay here tonight?" She asked, already knowing that one night would turn into two or three while she recovered.
Inuyasha scoffed and pulled out his phone to check the time and noticed a text message lighting up his screen and he quirked a soft smile at it. "She is. I'll be going soon so you can bond or some shit. Whatever girls do."
Kagome glanced at him, "Seriously? I know you're going to stay long enough to eat." She teased as nonchalantly as she could, watching Kikyo's expression waver.
"You know I'm not passing up free food." He replied, shifting to his side to get a better view of the girl. He smiled crookedly, the light making his heterochromia more noticeable.
Kagome felt her cheeks grow darker as she turned her attention towards the sink, though her reflection in the window displayed her nervousness quite vividly.
At a certain point, Kikyo skidded back in her chair and grabbed her glass of orange juice. "I'm going upstairs and laying down. I guess call me or come get me whenever you decide you're done flirting with my boyfriend."
Her tone never changed. She seemed indifferent as she deliberately walked up the ten steps to the bathroom, where she shut the door just as methodically behind her.
Kagome went slack and rested her hands on the edge of the sink. She hated when Kikyo came over. It was the same every time, like clockwork. No one had to tell her, she already knew the ups and downs of living with the woman and how to handle her falls from grace.
Inuyasha stared at the woman from the corner of his eye and barely registered that he was breathing. He wanted to say something but he quickly averted his eyes to his phone and opened the text Kagome had sent.
It wasn't salacious. It wasn't expectant. It was just a simple, "Hey, I haven't seen you in a while. You should come say hello some time."
He licked his chapped lips and swallowed as he pushed himself from the couch. His long sleeve shirt was rolled up to his elbows and his mess hair fell around his face. It was an attempt to hide the embarrassment on it as he cleared his throat and took a seat at the table.
Kagome tried to ignore him, listening intently for the toilet to flush or for the sound of Kikyo moving rooms, but it was ultimately silent.
"Is it bad again?" She asked in a hushed tone, finishing up the noodles she had dropped in the pot.
Inuyasha snorted, "Fuck if you only knew."
Kagome nodded, feigning an awkward smile. "I do know. I know very well. And I know that this situation, the whole thing, is way out of hand."
Inuyasha cupped his cheeks watching her. He'd been over a few times alone and talked to the girl about Kikyo and then this that and the other. He'd grown to enjoy her company, and enjoyed the optimism she held.
She was so vastly different from Kikyo, even though they had a plethora of similarities. Kagome was like the patches on a patchwork quilt that needed to be used and Kikyo was the quilt that needed to be mended.
Seemingly, you couldn't have one without the other or something would falter. Yet, as he waited listlessly for dinner to be done, he was melancholy.
He felt like a forlorn character in a Western film, or something - one of those bullshit dramas about growing up or whatever.
He was thirty-four years old, unwed, in limbo with his somewhat significant other, and was uncertain about his feelings on that subject.
Kagome had listened to his hopes and dreams and the betterment of her sister. She was so encouraging even though it killed her inside. The way she looked at him, the way she soothed his emotional wounds, the kinship they had built over the destructive habits of a loved one were all indicative of something, but he didn't know what.
And that made him feel guilty.
Yet, as he looked up the stairs and saw Kikyo wiping her mouth off, still carrying her orange juice, he knew that he couldn't live with this much longer.
She had a little more color to her cheeks and a looser fitting t-shirt on and lounge pants instead of her fitted designer jeans. Kikyo seemed human then. Very vulnerable, malleable almost. She could be molded into anything but her beauty was fading. Not physically, but the internal embodiment became less and less enthralling, no matter how much he loved her.
Kagome had tried to cut through the awkwardness with dinner and entertained them with stories about her nursing job, and the less than good dates she'd had. Inuyasha noted it was the first time he had seen Kikyo genuinely smile in a long time, and he relished that moment.
She was still a wonderful girl. She had all of the potential in the world, all of the brains and brawn to defeat any obstacle save for that one.
And it broke his heart as though she'd died. He'd tucked her in upstairs in the adorably decorated spare bedroom and cracked the window for air, kissed her, told her loved her and waited for her to fall asleep.
He always did that. He'd done for years. No matter what the circumstance, whether he agreed, or not, he made sure she never felt as alone as he did. As he brushed his calloused fingers through his hair, he stared longingly out the window and closed his eyes. The cool breeze that rolled in from the crack in the pane soothed his tired skin.
He felt more like a caretaker than a lover to the girl and relented to his role. How could he leave her without helping her more? He'd struggled for months over the decision and he couldn't resolve it.
Shaking his head, the man forced himself up and headed gingerly downstairs. He found Kagome sitting in the living room floor reading a book.
She was dressed sloppy, too busy and enthralled to care what she looked like as she enjoyed herself, smiling at the pages beneath her vision.
A frown etched itself on his face as he grabbed the jacket off the back of the burgundy sofa. "I'm heading out. Thank you for everything."
Kagome snapped up and waved her hands, "It's fine, I promise. I'll get over the drama one day." She sighed, inspecting his face as though she could find the answers buried in it. "I-I'm actually really glad you came. I haven't seen you in a while and it-it was nice." She continued, rubbing a hand on her arm hesitantly.
There was tension. There had been tension. Sango had mentioned it before, and then left it in the open. Kagome's large doe eyes were perplexed and ignited with a semblance of fear and uncertainty.
And Inuyasha's expression exasperated her because he was so difficult to read. He stood tall against her shorter frame and she looked up at him adoringly, and didn't exactly hide it.
She felt a well of emotion inundate her as they danced around saying their goodbyes.
Closing her eyes, she felt his heavy arms wrap around her abruptly. He smelled nice, woodsy with a hint of a cigarette resting in his hair. She didn't mind it. Her arms gripped to his back as she felt her skin flush.
They stood in silence as the front door began to jiggle, ripping them from their brief embrace.
"You better go." Kagome said quietly, clearing her throat as Inuyasha exhaled sharply.
He chewed at his lip and threw on his coat in haste and pressed his lips into some formation similar to a smile or a grimace, she couldn't tell. "Thank you, again. I'll, uh, come by tomorrow and make sure she's okay." He rasped.
Sango had heard him and waited for a moment before she pushed the door open and smiled brightly as she throw her lab coat over her shoulder.
She pardoned herself while the man exited, leaving her dark eyes firmly planted on her roommates colorless face.
Sango began deconstructing herself as Kagome plopped down on the couch with her heart in her throat and her head clasped in her hands. "I am the worst person in the world, Sango."
Her large, gray eyes closed as she shook her head.
Sango bit her lip, "For your sake, for your sanity, for your wellbeing and you-know-who, you've got to distance yourself from this whole big ole situation." Her arms feathered outward in exaggeration as she shucked her purse on the tabletop.
Kagome reached into her pocket and stared at a solitary text and she sighed. It was bereft. Simple, and very poignant.
"I'm sorry for always putting you in the middle of our problems."
"Goddammit." Kagome hugged a cushion and buried her face in it. She was the babysitter, the nurse, the mother, the best friend, the therapist, the almost. And being almost of anything was worse than having Fate hand you a deck made of the same cards.