"Miroku, get your bitch ass up!" Inuyasha bellowed from the entrance of their apartment, not caring in the least how hungover his roommate was. He slammed the door for further effect, waiting to hear the pained groan come from the room down the hall.

It was sweet music to his ears after the shit he'd gone through the night before just to bring him home. He'd never felt so violated in his life thanks to the drunk bastard and his wandering hands.

Dropping his backpack in the doorway, he walked down the hall, throwing Miroku's bedroom door open to see the darkened room with empty water bottles littered everywhere. His friend laid in the center of his queen-sized mattress, the blankets hardly covering his mostly undressed body, with a pillow over his head in an effort to block out any and all noise.

Not today, mother fucker.

"Miroku! Get up!"

"Noooooo." He whined, clutching his pillow tighter. Inuyasha stomped over to the mattress and ripped the pillow out of his friend's hands, hitting him with it three times for good measure. "Okay, ouch! Alright! I'm up!"

"Oh good, you're awake. I need your help."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow? My head is throbbing, no thanks to you, and I'm in the I-regret-everything stage of hungover." Miroku stated, his voice low and broken, and his eyes glued shut as he reached aimlessly for the pillow that once covered his face.

"No, it can't wait. I have a problem. A huge problem." Inuyasha answered, making sure the pillow he'd stolen was well out of reach.

"What did you do, Inuyasha?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Then why do you need help?" Miroku gave in, finally sitting up. He squinted as the dimmed light from the clouds and his black-out curtains made it hard for his eyes to focus.

"Look." Inuyasha shoved his hand in Miroku's face, giving him an extra moment as his eyes adjusted to being open for the first time in over twelve hours.

"What am I looking at?"

"Look, Miroku!" He pushed his hand even closer, causing his roommate to lean back so he could actually read what was written.

"That's very nice handwriting, Inuyasha. I see you've been working on your literate skills." Miroku stated sarcastically. Inuyasha hit him in the head with the pillow.

"No, asshole, look at it! Do I take a history class?"

"…No?"

"Then why would I need to take a history test at eight in the morning in the blue building?" Inuyasha spewed, clenching his hands shut as everything seemed to become more real as he spoke about it. He watched Miroku's face slowly light up as his lips inched upwards in an all-too-amused smile.

"No fucking way!" Miroku howled, clutching his sides as he bent forward laughing.

"There it is."

"Holy shit, no fucking way!"

"Yup."

"Who the hell is this lucky, lucky woman?" Miroku asked enthusiastically, grabbing at Inuyasha's hand to study the note again.

"No clue. But I met with Kikyo today and it isn't her." He shrugged, slumping down beside his friend on the mattress.

"Not to be rude, but a part of you actually thought it was?"

"No! I thought it was black magic and she was trying to fuck with me, Miroku! She doesn't exactly have a soft spot for me, you know, and up until twenty minutes ago I thought this soulmates crap was horse shit." Inuyasha argued, flailing his arms about again in agitation.

"And?" Miroku inquired, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing one of the half-drunken bottles of water.

"Just what I said: It isn't her. No sorcery, no mind games, no Kikyo. I officially have no fucking clue what's going on." He admitted, his eyes glazing over as he stared off at the wall across the room.

"It's freaky shit, my friend." Miroku agreed, patting Inuyasha on the back. "You're one of us now."

"What am I supposed to do with this, though?" The half demon asked, gesturing back to the purple ink on his palm.

"I think you're supposed to find her, Inuyasha." Miroku suggested, standing out of bed and grabbing his sweatpants off the floor, pulling them on over his boxer shorts. "She has a history test tomorrow, right? Sango's roommate majors in history and might even have the same midterm. I can talk to her and see if she can scout out the girls for you!"

Inuyasha grimaced, wrinkling his nose and giving a small shake of his head.

"Hard pass."

"What?"

"Nope, can't do that."

"Inuyasha, why can't we do that?" Miroku's brows furrowed in question as he slowly turned to his friend, the look of realization broadening his features. "Inuyasha, what did you do!?"

"I didn't do anything!" Inuyasha responded defensively. "All I did was tell her it wasn't real, and she went off the deep end!"

Miroku rubbed his temples, rolling his violet eyes back and sighing. "If I know you, which I do, you probably challenged her to an argument, thoroughly pissed her off, and left her hanging by saying something sarcastic and-or stupid, am I right?"

"No, that's not true. Nothing that comes out of my mouth is stupid."

Miroku tore the pillow from Inuyasha's unsuspecting grip and hit him over the head with it. "I can't take you anywhere!"

"Ah! Okay! First of all, I went over to get you, not the other way around! Second, what's the big deal? You're dating Sango, not her best friend!"

Miroku sighed again, shrugging in defeat. "It just makes life easier when everyone gets along. And she could have helped you."

"Relax. I'm not that eager to see who's on the other side of this. Not everyone's meant to be together, Miroku. Not even if it's in the cards, or however the saying goes."

"You mean to tell me that you believe in soulmates now but don't believe that soulmates are supposed to be together?" Miroku inquired, snagging his phone from the top of his dresser before finishing off another half-drunken bottle of water.

Inuyasha groaned, finding the complexity of the situation too confusing and frustrating to deal with at one time. If he was honest, he didn't know what to believe. Not too long ago, he was a firm non-believer, so it's naturally overwhelming to suddenly be forced over to the dark side and try to process all the scenarios that could or could not happen. Inuyasha had never seen a solid and firm relationship work out in his life. His dad died before he was even born, and his mom never remarried before she passed away when he was ten. He'd like to say his asshole of a half-brother was a shining example in the love department, but his form of affection is a grunt in his wife's direction as he passes by in the hall. Inuyasha doesn't know how he's kept a wife for as long as he has, but the bastard was one lucky man to have a woman accept a brick wall for a husband.

He and Miroku had been best friends since junior high, and as soon as the guy hit puberty he utilized his deeper voice and heightened testosterone levels to their fullest potential. This is the first time Inuyasha's seen the pervert actually like the girl he's been sleeping with.

Ultimately, it all boils down to one thing. The one thing he'd been ridiculed for since childhood. Inuyasha was a half breed. His father was a high-standing, pure-blooded demon and his mother was a loving and compassionate human. It was something Inuyasha was well familiar with, having to deal with the controversy of being of mixed-race for as long as he could remember. Sure, there was a time the questions and slurs stung, but what hurt most was seeing his mother cry over something nobody could control. So he hardened up, took the beatings, swallowed everyone's dumb ass opinions, and never complained about it again. Soon enough, he hardly even noticed that he was neither this nor that. Until someone asked him to become one over the other.

What if it happened again? What if the person he was "meant to be with" didn't accept him as he was? Just because you're connected by something, doesn't mean you like one another by default. The stress just wasn't worth it to Inuyasha.

"Anyway," He shifted uncomfortably. Wanting the attention off of him, he pointed at the cell phone in Miroku's hand. "How's it going with you and Romantic Destiny?"

"Shut up," Miroku groaned, sitting on the rolling chair nearby that swiveled as his weight was applied, and scrolling through the notifications. "You know how last night went and you know I'm too hungover to talk about it."

"Hah! You can't give me any shit if you can't even handle an actual date!" Inuyasha boasted.

Miroku tossed the pillow at him, missing by a good foot and hitting the wall with a decent amount of force. "It's more than just that!"

"Okay, so…?"

Miroku sat forward a little too quickly, wrinkling his nose in pain and rubbing his forehead. His lips formed a slight frown, the expression on his face becoming serious and sullen. He pressed the button on the side of his phone, the device making a clicking sound resembling an actual lock being turned, and slid it to the far side of the wooden desk beside him. "It's just weird, okay? I like Sango. I like her a lot. There's something about her that makes me want to stay by her side for however long I can, which is strange on its own so don't give me any shit about it. I just wish it didn't take fate, or whatever, to tell me who I'm gonna be with for the rest of my life. We held hands. It's all set in stone. It's relieving to be completely honest, because I can think again, but it's just so hard to get over the initial shock of it all."

"You guys didn't notice all of this weird shit when you first met?"

"Yeah, actually. The tingling in my hands was just so subtle, it was easy to push to the back of my mind. I thought I just had a pinched nerve in my shoulder or something."

"Tingling?" Inuyasha asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I've mentioned it before. You don't feel anything?" Miroku asked in response.

"I do, actually, and it's annoying as all hell. It's definitely more like needles to me! How do you ignore this shit?"

"Are you sure you just aren't being dramatic?"

"Shut up." He flipped Miroku the bird, deciding he was done and rising to his feet, marching out of the cluttered bedroom while keeping his finger up in the air as he slowly closed the door behind him.

Inuyasha let out an annoyed huff, scrolling through the term paper he was working on and praying that his laptop program was catching all of the spelling and grammatical errors he was too tired to notice. He had to allow a week to pass before he felt comfortable stepping back into his favorite coffee house again. Sure, silver hair and dog ears are enough to expose him to anyone who knows what to look for, but that wasn't what he was concerned about. One week was the well-known minimum courtesy time for blowouts in public spaces.

His brain was fried. He was notorious for last-minute homework assignments, but he was always pretty good at getting the important shit done in a timely manner. He'd been so distracted by the unrelenting sensations in his hands that it was damn near impossible for him to get anything done lately. He'd wake up in the middle of the night to it, he couldn't focus during lectures because of it, and the only thing that allowed him any form of relief was playing video games because the vibration from the controller would overpower it. He always lost, though, because if he couldn't feel that damn twitch in his palm he'd irrationally grow concerned that something bad had happened to his unknown partner and drop the controller altogether.

Even now, he balled his fingers into fists, trying to subdue the irritating prickling that held his attention day and night.

"Truce." The tingling leapt from his hands and plummeted into his stomach as he glanced up from the screen of his laptop and into the brown eyes of Sango's roommate. She held out a large, white cup, the scent of the dark-roasted coffee inside perking his senses just enough to feel a little more awake. A brown sleeve protected her fingers from the heat as she continued to hold it out to him, a small smile curving her pink lips upwards. "Something tells me you like your coffee black."

"Why are you calling a truce?" Inuyasha asked, hesitant to take the gift even though he was practically drooling for the extra life source.

"Well, because your best friend is my best friend's… boyfriend. Something tells me we may be seeing a little more of each other from now on and it would be easier to hang out if we got along, wouldn't it?"

His right hand felt hot, like the blood was boiling just beneath his skin, and he fidgeted to discreetly hide it between his leg and the chair he sat on.

"Look, let's just agree to disagree. Plenty of people believe and plenty don't. It's not a big deal, right?" Kagome shrugged.

Except he believed now, but he'd be damned if he admitted that to the girl he made an ass out of himself too.

"I can add cream and sugar if I was wrong about your order." She tried again, still holding the cup in her outstretched arm. The heat continued to flow through his hand, the flow of blood- or lack thereof- from being wedged between his thigh and the wooden chair not helping to relieve the discomfort.

"No… uh… I like it black. Thank you." He reached for the cup, the warmth from the contained liquid radiating through the paper walls and protective sleeve. Kagome rewarded him with a bright smile just before the slight graze of their fingers sent electricity racking through his entire system, causing Inuyasha's spine to jolt up straight and nearly drop the coffee. Suddenly, all he could see was her. There were images playing out in his mind of her smiling and laughing, sighing his name while her fingers were entwined with his own clawed hand, the sound of her voice causing that feeling that swam in his stomach to expand and stretch painfully.

Oh fuck, he was gonna be sick.

Kagome gasped, quickly withdrawing her hand, holding it to her chest protectively while she noticeably paled and stared at him in wonder. He wanted to ask her if she felt it too, but his brain couldn't seem to form words. He just stared back at her, mirroring the same damn look she gave him.

"I-uh… H-have to get going." She muttered, a nervous smile twitching at her lips. Pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear, she spared Inuyasha one last, quick glance before turning towards the exit and pushing her way through.

He gave it a moment, his fingers still curled around the large cup while his mouth hung slightly agape. His golden eyes darted back and forth around the room, wondering if anyone else had just seen what happened; if anyone else had noticed the sudden, fierce, terrifying, palpable tension between him and Kagome. No one batted an eye in his direction.

Oh. Good.

He counted backwards from five, slowly packing up his belongings and not at all freaking out.

Four. He gently closed his laptop, sliding it into the large pouch of his backpack.

Three. Inuyasha zipped his bag shut.

Two. He took a small sip of the dark roast, setting the cup back on the now-empty surface of the circular table he sat at.

One. Inuyasha stood up with urgency, swinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder and shoving his cell phone into his pocket. He raced towards the double doors, pushing them open with too much force and speed walking to his car parked down the road, cursing under his breath in pace with each step he took.

The drive back to his apartment was quick. Not minding the speed limit and bypassing stop signs will do that for you. He continued to swear as he fumbled with the keys to the front door, almost dropping them at one point, and then fumbling some more until the deadbolt clicked unlocked and Miroku peered at him through the open crack.

"Inuyash-"

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." The half demon pushed passed his friend, power-walking his way down the hall and slamming his bedroom door shut behind him.

Nope. No way. No.

What was that sparky thing about? He's touched plenty of people before and that shit has never happened. So why now? Logically, his first thought was a simple case of static electricity, but static electricity doesn't do that.

The tension that surfaced wasn't resonating from their stupid, petty argument a week ago. It wasn't from the awkward truce she wanted. It wasn't from any sort of animosity whatsoever, mainly because he had absolutely nothing against the girl. It was different. It was the type of tension that flooded your chest with warmth and sent a fluttering sensation throughout your abdomen, clearly resembling the flu or something.

A flu he wanted to bask in for the rest of his existence.

No. Stop that.

Inuyasha felt like he was going into shock, his thoughts racing a mile a minute as he paced back and forth in his bedroom wondering what the fuck was happening to him and what he was even supposed to do about it. Was it her? No way. A guy like him couldn't get that lucky. But what if it was? He shouldn't be happy about that, he hardly knew the chick. She could be a lunatic whose prey was unsuspecting men. It's the small girls you've got to look out for, even a half demon like Inuyasha knew that.

He had to know. Wait, what the fuck happened to not wanting that bit of information?

Okay, and why the hell didn't she say anything before taking off like that? She was the one that was so adamant about the existence of soulmates!

So maybe that wasn't the case here. Maybe this pill that was hard to swallow in the first place had idiotically taken over his every thought, so now he was jumping to irrational conclusions over some stupid static shock. Kagome was not his damn soulmate. It was not Kagome.

It could be Kagome.

No. Shit.

Inuyasha was going crazy. He sat on the edge of his bed, cradling his head in his hands for a brief moment before launching back to his feet.

Fuck this. He had to know.

Snatching a pen from the mess on his desk, he clicked the top down so the ballpoint stuck out.

Who are you?

Kagome sat at her small kitchen table staring down at her left hand with wide eyes. The tingling never once left her fingers, and the anxiety had her leg uncontrollably bouncing up and down. The words had appeared just as she'd slumped down in her seat, her breathing coming and going irregularly as she continued to stare at the sloppy handwriting.

She'd noticed the sensations throughout the past couple of weeks, but never thought twice about it. She'd noticed how strong and off-putting it had become over the past few days but dismissed it all almost too easily. She was stressed. She had tests to take and papers to write. It was common to blame midterm season for bodily ailments.

For someone whose family worked at a shrine and was all about the great divine, spirituality, and destiny, how could she not have seen the signs for her own case? In her defense, though, they weren't plain as day. For instance, no one had jabbed a pencil into her finger like someone she knew.

Maybe she was wrong. What had happened with Inuyasha had to be purely coincidental. It couldn't have been him. If it were, he wouldn't be dumb enough to be asking who she was right now.

But then that posed another issue… Who was the person on the other end of this? She had a bad tendency to draw and scribble notes on her hands, even with notebooks surrounding her. When, exactly, did this all begin? How much had he seen? Kagome couldn't help the flood of humiliation that washed over her, slouching against the table and burying her face in her hands. What if she'd drawn something super embarrassing or written something incredibly stupid? They could base their entire judgment on her off of her dumb, bad habits, and then what? Laugh at her when they finally met?

Great.

Inuyasha.

Wrong. She had to stop thinking about him! How could an idiot like that possibly be her soulmate? The signs eventually become so obvious they're impossible to ignore, so even a stubborn guy like him couldn't be so self-righteous in swearing soulmates weren't a real thing if he was on the opposite end.

Inuyasha.

Oh man, she was in deep. Yes, she could admit he was very attractive. Yes, he was nice… at first. Yes, the first time she'd heard his voice through the phone her stomach did a few flips. Even after their dumb argument, she found herself looking around the courtyard on campus for him. She wasn't even sure they went to the same school. Actually, she wasn't sure he was even in school up until this afternoon when she saw him struggling to work on an assignment at the coffee shop. That never stopped her from looking around for him wherever she went. The hallways, the libraries, the grocery store…

Kagome let out a pained whine, hoping it would provide at least a little relief from her situation. It was just a crush, but it was a crush at the most inconvenient time. When she met the guy she was supposed to be with, would she end up disappointed? She'd never heard of someone being upset to find out who their soulmate was, but was it a possibility? Has someone ever found their person, said a solid "nope," and walked away?

She sat up straight, taking in a steady breath and shaking out her hands to numb the prickling. She knew the question written on her palm still needed answering, but the thought was terrifying. That would mean connecting with whomever it was. There would be no turning back. Was she ready for that? Sure, every girl dreams of the day their hands tell them their romantic fate, but she never imagined it would be this scary or annoying. Or that it would actually happen. It was such a rare occurrence, Kagome almost felt guilty that she wasn't excited.

Should she answer? A thick feeling crept into Kagome's stomach, curling up and settling there as she began to feel ill.

She rose to stand, her legs unsteady beneath her body weight, and walked towards the kitchen sink. Turning on the faucet, she stuck her hands under the running water to wash them clean.