A/N: Tell me what you think, please. I'm honestly not too sure about how this is all gonna come together, but I guess I'll figure it out in time. xD

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June 13, 2002

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"… Hey, I'm Kouga—I know you can't hear me, but… well, it'd be rude if I didn't introduce myself, wouldn't it?" He laughed quietly, awkwardly.

"Um… they told me that your name's Kagome—Kagome Higurashi. You're 19, and a student at Tokyo University." He coughed, stuffing the paper in his hand back into his pocket.

He shuffled from foot to foot easily. "I'm here because… well… coma patients—that's what you are, you know?—usually wake up sooner, when they have someone to give them affection… Talk to them and stuff, I mean." He offered a tiny smile that she couldn't see.

"Since…" He fished the paper back out of his pocket quickly. "your parents are... both dead, your brother is off at school in the States, your grandfather is in the hospital himself, and your boyfriend is too busy with work…" Slightly out of breath and feeling awkward, he bit his bottom lip. He didn't really understand why they had told him all of those thing—wasn't it a bit personal?

"... I'll be staying here until you wake up."

With that, he situated himself in the chair by her bed.

Practically her entire body was covered in wires and needles. The crook of her arm had at least 3, each pumping a different fluid into her system. Her head was wrapped up in white bandages, no hair peeking out from underneath. Kouga wasn't exactly too surprised about that. He heard that they had to shave all of her hair off to start the surgery.

Her left arm—the one without the needles—was surrounded by a cast. Her right leg was also in one, and being held up by a sling coming from the ceiling. There were bruises covering her entire body—at least, he thought so, seeing as he couldn't see underneath of the hospital gown. Her mouth was covered in a mask helping her to breath—there was a soft fog on the inside of it.

"… Well, I guess I should start off by telling you about myself, eh?" He grinned. "Like I said, my name's Kouga; I'm 22, and I just graduated from a community college near my hometown: Kyoto." He fingered the furry bracelet on his wrist. "I've got a degree in mechanical engineering—I hope to get a job as a mechanic soon, so I can work on bikes.

"I plan on opening my shop once I get enough money, though that's probably not gonna be for a while…" He sighed.

"I heard you got into a motorcycle accident? They're kind of dangerous, I guess... but I don't really care. My mom got so mad when she found out I was riding 'em, though," He bit the inside of his cheek. "We haven't spoken in four years. As soon as I turned 18, I was out of the house."

He shook his head, brown locks flailing around like a halo. "I wonder what you're studying… Probably something… arty?" He nodded. "Yeah—maybe you're into painting or drawing? Maybe writing, I guess… Or maybe you're just going to college because your parents made you?" His brows furrowed. "But your parents aren't around anymore, so I guess not."

He sighed once again, filling in the quiet. "I've got two best friends: Hakkaku and Ginta, but no girlfriend." He offered a crooked grin. "So, maybe once you're awake we can…" He trailed off, raising his eyebrows suggestively. The beeping of her heart rate didn't even increase, causing him to laugh. "I'll take your silence as a 'maybe', ne?"

Kouga pursed his lips, laying his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. "It's not like I've never gotten offers by girls before, though… I've just never really been interested." He paused. "I mean… I'm not gay!"

He chuckled, light and airy. "But I've… never had interest in a relationship, you know?" He tucked his bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled on it softly.

Moments passed, neither of them saying anything. Kagome couldn't, and Kouga was merely lost in thought.

Finally, "I've only ever had one girlfriend," he muttered. "Her name was Ayame—I never really cared about her, though." He blinked. "That sounded kind of cruel, didn't it?" Laughter.

"I guess so, but… well, she didn't care about me either. She only liked me for my looks; for the shit I could buy her," He paused. "She was the first girl who ever confessed to me… We were only 15, first year of high school... first love, I thought.

"But it turned out to be anything but. She didn't cheat on me or anything… She just…" Kouga bit his bottom lip. "She was just very… angry." He said the word slowly, furrowing his brows. "She was possessive, and didn't like me talking to any other girls—not even teachers,"

Kouga glanced to the clock. "It's almost time for visiting hours to be over," He grinned down at the girl. "I'll be sure to come back earlier tomorrow, though; so don't feel bad, alright, Kagome?" He brushed his fingertips against her wrist.

"'Night, darlin'," With that, he left.

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Kouga stepped into the dingy apartment, closing the door behind him. It was pretty small and dirty, but it did the job.

The neighbors made a lot of noise sometimes, the walls being much too thin to provide privacy. Not that he cared, really. He was a deep sleeper, and was used to the sound of fighting—his parents did it all the time when he was still living with them.

He let out a sigh, plopping down on the ratty couch. He had picked it up on the side of the road a few months ago, when he realized he didn't have enough money to buy a new one—or even a used one. It was probably infested with bugs and a shit load of germs, but he had dealt with worse things.

He flipped on the TV, closing his eyes at the sound and sight of static. Shitty reception. It had been that way since the first day he arrived here... he didn't even really know why he bothered to turn it on anymore.

Leaning his head back, Kouga opened his eyes to stare at the dirty ceiling. Years worth of grime and smoke-stains were soaked into the paint.

He breathed in through his nose. Dust, smoke, and cheap cologne overwhelmed his senses, but he didn't cough. In a way, he almost liked the scent—it was something he could call... home, though the apartment was by no means warm, or even comfortable.

It was a place to call his own, though.

His thoughts trailed to the girl in the hospital. She was sort of pretty, he supposed. He saw a picture of her earlier—her eyes were blue, just like his own. Her hair had once been a deep raven color, with bangs that went down to her eyebrows. If he saw her on the streets, he wouldn't break his neck to get another look, but... he'd definitely admire her while she was in his sights.