Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, but I do own this idea.

A/N: Editing chapters…GAWD. *bangs head on table*


Terminology

People/Names
Keibu
– honorific for a police inspector/captain
Reibai – spirit medium, "ghost whisperer"
Youkaihanta
– ghost buster, spirit hunter
Gekkahyoujin
– matchmaker, cupid

Things
Youki – typical demonic or youkai energy/aura


SOULMATE:
YOU'RE A SOUL YET I'M YOUR MATE?

7: Afraid to Go Potty


"Life is just a phase you're going through...
you'll get over it."

—Anonymous


I hate funerals. Kind of weird, I know, since I have to attend them in order to find yuurei to assist and gather information from—many souls don't rest after they've been killed, and willingly tell me what I need to know—but I don't like funerals because of the people who attend them. Family, friends, neighbors—anybody from anywhere, really. Saddest part is that I'm jealous of these people. It sounds strange, but I wasn't even allowed to attend my own parents' funerals; I don't think anyone has any idea on how much I would've loved to see my parents before they were cremated, to at least witness them in a peaceful state, instead of the last image I had of them alive.

Because, really, I made the mistake of looking at their bloodied, beaten corpses after seeing their souls. And having that vision of your parents as your last really, really sucks.

I teeter a bit in my accursed penny loafers, listening as Principal Hikaru, a lean man with long black hair, and Vice Principal Mitsuru, a fat man with no hair, go on about the school's loss, and how Hojo Akitoki was a good student and friend. I shift a little bit in my black mourner's kimono over my school uniform, which I will be wearing when we get back from our field trip.

Yes, the entire school is attending Hojo Akitoki's funeral. And yes, I find it extremely awkward, especially as a certain hanyou's gaze is practically burning through every inch of me as he sits on Goshinboku, right beside Shippou, who looks curious as to why Inuyasha's pretty much set on staring at me for the entire time I'm here.

Oh, and did I mention how Higurashi Shrine is hosting the funeral?

From his place beside me, Jii-chan scoffs at the prayers, still holding onto the urn of Akitoki's ashes with care, but I know that seeing someone else's funeral is reminding him of the one we'll be attending this weekend, so he's really hurting inside. Souta has been excused from his early classes to help out with the service, and is currently passing out tissues to grievers as silently as he can, offering small words of comfort to relatives, friends—anyone really. My locker neighbor Hojo is standing beside his mother, who's weeping silently, and both don't say a word as the educators each take their turns to talk about the Class A student (who, after hearing that, I am also envious of). He sends some looks at me from time to time, but feeling ashamed, I overlook them.

I was too late to save Akitoki, his brother, and all because I didn't investigate instantly. And for that, I don't really deserve his reassuring smiles and sad eyes.

"…and he had the best damn grades I ever saw," Tamaru-sensei, aka Kouga, murmurs into the microphone of the stand I'd set up earlier for those who wanted to give heartfelt speeches and parting messages. Even from the few feet separating us—which is probably the reason Inuyasha's hovering over me at the moment, I realize—I can tell his knuckles are turning a sickly white from his tight grasp on the stand's rims. Just like everyone else who knew the deceased, he's taking it pretty hard, but unlike most people and more like me, he knows the real reason behind the teen's death. "Hojo Akitoki-kun was the kid who shared his notes with others, forgiving them when they were handed back in shreds or slobber or never returned at all, and gave everyone a smile even if they hated him—the type of naïve boy you just knew was a good person with a good heart…"

Truthfully, if I'd known him, I'm sure we would've been friends. If I came here sooner… Not only would we maybe be friends, but he'd be alive. I swallow hard at the thought, choking back a gulp of air in my throat.

I glance at the small shrine dedicated to the deceased behind me, where a portrait of him and a statue engraved with his name are surrounded by flowers, fruits, and other things he may enjoy in the afterlife. Of course, with how young he passed and unfair the circumstances had been, he may very well still be lingering on Earth, refusing to die in spirit; but then again, he seems like the kind of guy who would forgive and forget about his own murder. I sigh, do a little praying to Kami that this conflict will be solved and he may truly rest in peace before reincarnation, and then open my eyes. Everyone's now praying as well, no doubt something Principal Hikaru started, and my gaze meets that of Inuyasha's. He stares at me for a moment before focusing on something behind me, obviously alert to a presence nearby. Casually, I sneak a glimpse over my shoulder, and gape at what's before me.

Smiling brightly, almost nonchalantly, he waves at me innocently, a damned Hojo-lookalike sticking transparently out of his own portrait.

After the service, I tell Inuyasha with my eyes to convince Akitoki to stay longer, and with a slight scowl—probably pissed I'm ordering him around a bit—he jumps off to the other disembodied soul. I then return to school, where my peers are deathly quiet and refuse to laugh and smile gaily. Kouga doesn't even try to outsmart me first class; instead, he drones his lesson, sounding like he'd rather go to bed than keep his job. The rest of the day goes by, people still silent and mourning, whereas I, the new girl, do whatever it takes to blend in; thus, I do nothing. I was bored and tired through most of the day, not even having Inuyasha following me around to annoy the hell out of me, so imagine my oddly-bestowed joy when I come home to a flustered hanyou and smug-looking Hojo-yuurei.

Wait… Akitoki looking smug? Inuyasha being flustered? What in the third hell happened while I was at school?

"Higurashi Kagome, correct?" he says after I greet him. I nod in response, and he breaks out into a charming grin. "Ah, Higurashi-san, my brother spoke much of you before we went to the park. He's much of a health nut—we all are—and he's been enticed by your injury. If you don't mind me asking, however did you obtain it?"

I stare at him blankly. Not only does he speak formally, but he hasn't even mentioned me being able to see him or Inuyasha's evidently abnormal heritage. Weird. "Well, if you haven't noticed," I say with an edge of sarcasm in my tone, "I'm not your ordinary schoolgirl. I see ghosts, am friends with a yuurei-inu-hanyou and kitsune, and hunt evil youkai and ghosts while helping the innocent move on with their lives. What Hojo-kun saw was just a flesh wound I got earlier from a centipede youkai."

As if suddenly being informed of the current circumstances, he goes wide-eyed and stares at me in shock before turning to Inuyasha and drinking in his silver mane, sunset eyes, and velvet dog ears. Then, proving my suspicion of him somehow not noticing it before, he exclaims, "YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!"

I roll my eyes. People really weren't exaggerating when they said he was a tad on the naïve side, were they? "Thank you, Captain Obvious," I retort, not even bothering to sugarcoat my sarcasm as I see Inuyasha nearly burst into flames, he's so annoyed. "But did you catch my drift? I'll help you move on and slay the demons that killed you; we just need a little bit more info on the situation."

Eagerly, Akitoki nods, and is about to sit beside me on the base of Goshinboku when Inuyasha growls, warding him off. I can literally see the light bulb go off in his head as he suddenly pipes up, "Wait." I raise an eyebrow, showing him he had my attention. "I'll help you under one condition." I wait a moment until he declares,

"Please go out with my brother."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you piss off a half-demon.

"FUCK NO!" Inuyasha screams, and for a moment, I wonder why he's so against the idea of me and Hojo—and why he was so mad about Kouga flirting with me, at that. "BITCH IS OFF-LIMITS!"

Bitch? Doing an imitation of him, I yell back, "HANYOU IS STUPID! AND FUCK YES, BITCH ACCEPTS DATE IN EXCHANGE FOR INFORMATION!" Snorting lightly at my own antics—because I entertain myself, sadly—I turn to Akitoki and smile reassuringly. "I'll talk to your brother about it, Hojo-kun. Now, for the questions…"

/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\

Eternity was forever—a forever Kagome could not even begin to comprehend. It was a long road ahead of her, one with too many strides, a street with a distance that frightened her into even taking that first step. It was a never-ending dream, her reality—and a promised eternity just seemed to wither her away.

Much like the flower in front of her, its petals falling off one by one, wilting and shortening its lifespan with every moment of weakness.

It was funny how Kagome was fascinated with the dead flowers over the lively ones as a child. Girls her age in Tsuyu's Kyoto neighborhood were playing tag with their friends, and here she sat in front of the dried pots of her cousin's garden, admiring the dying buds as they passed before her two eyes, her remaining family members oblivious to her whereabouts within their small apartment. She enjoyed seeing the plants decompose ever-so-slowly, and when the time was right, re-grow into what they once were, as if a phoenix from myths.

Myths were never meant to be true, though, and it was not so funny how she seemed fascinated with death and rebirth itself.

She knew her family worried—even Tsuyu, who was just bonding with her, often thought about the young girl's oddity. Wondered why she didn't rejoice the flowers blooming and were at their most beautiful stage in life, but instead, cooed as they lost their lives before sprouting out of the soil once more. Kagome's mother had said she was talented, special, able to recognize the many stages of life. Kagome's father had been a little more than fearful, wondering if his daughter was an in-the-closest plant-sadist. Souta, meanwhile, just didn't care whereas Kagome's cousin was, as of the moment, giving her space and keeping most of her musings to herself.

However, if Kagome was awed by a plant's life beginning and dying, she wavered just the same with humans. Because, as her parents lied dying in front of her just a few days prior, she could not give any real response except stare in astonishment as she saw double. Besides seeing their spirits reassuring her, perhaps her thoughts on life and death, of passing before rebirth, were the main cause for her being calm as her parents died. They'd be reincarnated, just like the plants would, and live again before the process played out, and same would go for her and everyone else in the world.

Just like the flowers before her eyes, they'd come back to her. They always did.

And she would be sitting in front of Cousin Tsuyu's apartment, watching the flowers live and die, waiting for her parents' arrival for the rest of her everlasting eternity.

/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\

I scrub the sleep from my eyes at two in the morning, wavering between a rock and a hard place—aka, whether or not I should go back to sleep. All in all, it's a hard decision. After dreaming of the past, I don't really feel like going back to bed in fear of reliving the memories again. But, of course, school's tomorrow, and every good student needs as much sleep as necessary, especially if they're a nocturnal busy bee like me.

From my spot at the dinner table, I sigh, getting the urge to rub my temples tiredly, but settle for tightening and loosening my grip on the half-full coffee mug in front of me. I have and will never like coffee; never does it taste right, never can I make it right, but Tsuyu loves it. She goes to Starbucks every morning to retrieve her coffee before she goes to work at the office. And as fate would have it, Nobunaga Keibu happens to also need coffee before work as well.

And that's where they met: two years ago at a Starbucks. Just one little encounter that made Nobunaga almost fall in love with her, a move I'd recognized and automatically prevented. I've done everything in my willpower to separate my cousin and her soul mate—otherwise known as the man who's been on my ass for half a decade now—and now, it's all been proven worthless.

Because he has her address, phone number, everything—and their red string is proof enough that he'll do whatever it takes to make her happy. And, like predicted, she'll be happy.

With him.

My enemy.

I sigh again, as if hoping the exhales will shoo away the depression nipping away at my nerves. My missions are important, I know that, and Tsuyu deserves happiness, but what if she's happy, and he's happy…

My eyes begin to droop as I focus on the kitchen table in front of me, the only source of light being some candles nearby.

If they're both happy…

I'll be unhappy.

Honestly, before now, I never understood why I'd always felt that those two being together would make me unhappy. Even if Nobunaga is my enemy in crime-fighting (though he's naïve in a lot of parts), if he fell in love with Tsuyu, he'd do anything for her—including accepting her freak of a cousin who'd tampered with his cases and fights youkai and ghosts, at the same time, passing on yuurei and matching up soul mates. (Which reminds me, I should never, ever tell anyone about my stealing information from him. Like, ever.) So, if he had no choice but to accept me, I wouldn't have to fear him and the police, especially since they wouldn't mind running tests and whatnot on me to see why I have these gifts…

Well, like I said, I never really understood why I've felt this way until now. I exhale deeply, closing my eyes upon realizing that I'm jealous my cousin and enemy have soul mates—each other. Meanwhile… I glance down at my fingers and grimace. It's not fair.

Deciding to wander away from that topic, my gaze drifts to the darkness of the window and I—you guess it—sigh. Mama and Papa are never coming back to me, because life and death doesn't work that way. I, of all people, should know that by now.

And I, of all people, should realize I should just get up and do something since sleep is nearly impossible. Letting out a drowsy grunt, I drink the rest of the coffee, which has turned cold due to it sitting around for over half an hour, and change into more appropriate clothes.

I think back to my dream, some distant memory taking place shortly after Mama and Papa's deaths, and sigh. Once again, my opinion has obviously changed much since that instance outside of Tsuyu's apartment. Life and death is no longer a light matter, one that filled me with awe and curiosity; it's grave and my newfound duty to either prevent death or assist them in the afterlife. My parents won't come back to me like I assumed, rebirths didn't work like I thought they did, and I can't wait for them anymore. I have to move forward, take numerous steps away from the past, and face the future, because pondering on what's no longer here is seemingly a waste of my time. I have to forget and just run head-on, running, running away from the things I can't fix.

But if that's the case, then why is it so hard to not look over my shoulder and remember everything all over again?

/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\*/~\

After that confusing can of worms, I head towards the park Inuyasha showed me earlier that evening. I'm a silhouette in the night; dressed in all black with black hair, the only distinguishable feature probably being my moonlit complexion. My clothing's tight, the outfit I packed earlier—one destined for battle and perfect for sneaking around. I have to say it was a tad too difficult to sneak past a certain yuurei-hanyou and kitsune, but it was easier than I expected. I really thought that, somehow, an alarm would go off when I tried to get off shrine grounds without telling anyone, and I'd be punished on the spot.

To be honest, I almost went back inside the moment I came out. I mean, I walked across the tiles like a spy, held my breath like the apocalypse would occur if I didn't, and relaxed every fiber of my being in order to set off false pretenses. But the moment I saw silver hair reflecting moonlight, my heart sped up in panic, and when I saw a redheaded kid in his red-clad lap, I felt guilty for sneaking out without either Inuyasha or Shippou knowing of my location. What if they woke up, and worried (or, at least, Shippou did)? Would they understand the situation and my reasons, or blow it out of proportion and grow angry with me?

Either way, it all in all doesn't matter, because I need to go get rid of this bastard kappa now, or else more people will die and the kind yet stupid Hojo Akitoki will never pass on in peace.

My taut leather pants are sort of hard to run in; skirts are far easier to move around in, but due to the type of youkai I'm dealing with, my usual choice of a skirt is out of the question. Meanwhile, tonight's a little humid, so I sweat a little underneath my black tank top and jacket as I swiftly move down the streets, a shadow to even those alertly awake in the very early morning. My weapons are placed underneath my clothes as always, but fortunately, I'm wearing my special jacket this time, which gives me more room for weapons since you can't really retrieve knives and whatnot from super-tight pants.

My mind repeatedly wanders back to that beautiful moment last evening, with the very last of the twilight reflecting off Inuyasha's silver hair and his topaz eyes gleaming even more from the sun as he gave me that chilling, serious answer.

"The dead kind."

My mind had went blank after that as I nodded and walked back inside, and I was robotic in almost every movement ever since. What could he have possibly meant with that sentence? I know he didn't mean a literally dead bird—though, due to my experience, it could be possible, that is, if he spoke the language of birds—but who's this figurative bird? "The dead kind"—someone dead told him, I suppose. Is it a ghost, some sort of spirit, a memory? Whatever or whomever it was, they apparently gave Inuyasha the urge to be nice to me.

Through the fog and smog of the suburban Tokyo sky, I can make out no stars. There weren't any in Kyoto, either—once again, pollution sucks ass—but if we got lucky and the exhaust wore down along with the clouds, us Kyoto citizens could point out little sparkles. Even then, it was rare to see a star. I recall a vacation my family took to the mountains when I was much younger, and remember how amazed I was to see the four lone stars forming a circle formation in the sky. Yet once again, there are no stars in the abyss of night belonging to my new hometown—just a waning moon, missing a few slithers of the full one that existed just a few nights ago.

I wonder, what did Inuyasha see as time passed? When had the stars begun to disappear? Was it after the formation of cars and factories, or could it have been a cause before our modern times? He must've watched the night sky just like he did the evening sunset, admiring the stars and moon, watching them fade slowly, day by day, slipping from his fingertips until all he had left was dusk itself.

I think maybe life's like that in some ways. The stars, moon, sunset—how we shine brightly, but eventually dim; how things light our path, but have to vanish at times before returning; how several colors contrast to the paintings of our lives, our histories, while the sun shines bright at other times. Then there's the new moon—where you're engulfed by darkness, and it's your weakest time because there's no light, there are no stars, and you're just left vulnerable.

And I think I have just set a new record for "Most Analogies Made in One Night". Congrats, self.

With a hiccup of a sigh (yes, it's possible), I finally see my destination ahead: the park. There are still police lines, but those idiots aren't even standing guard; there's no one in sight, and the only noise I hear is the wind brushing the trees' leaves. That, and some of the pond spots stirring, though it's from the small pipe that supplies it water. After scanning the area a few times, I have two decisions: search the lake area, where I saw the investigation occur, or the bathroom, where Nobunaga Keibu said there'd been killings in, but didn't show me, and also where Akitoki said he felt an ominous aura from when he'd come earlier that evening to check on his murder scene.

Between the lake and the bathroom, I choose the latter, but not to go potty; that'd be incredibly stupid when there are kappa running amuck and using the sewage pipes as their way of transportation.

Maybe Akitoki wasn't lying about an ominous aura, because there's that nagging feeling in my stomach telling me to turn back, someone could be watching me, etc. However, I ignore it for the most part since it decides to make its appearance way too often in my life. When I enter the women's restroom, pushing open the door, the lights flicker on, but they're scarily dim as a dripping noise catches my attention. Damn faucets, I think, maneuvering my way around the bend, towards the sinks. Always in a creepy scene, something's leaking water, making you freak out, when really it's not—

Shit, never mind.

I stay rooted to my spot as the dripping continues, but it's not water from a faucet—it's blood from a body. Because there, hanging from the ceiling before me, is an inside-out corpse with missing organs, one of which is the small intestines connecting her to the ceiling. How can I tell it was a "her"? The ovaries—I can see them.

Worst sex ed. lesson ever taught.

But what's even worse is realizing I was too late.

My stomach churns and twists, and I feel my throat constrict when bile makes it way to my mouth, but I refuse to really show my disgust that openly—not when the culprits of this could be nearby, watching me right now. Swallowing my stomach fluids, ignoring the way they burn my throat, I step forward, and my senses increase tenfold under the ominous cloud of danger. My eyes grow alert, scanning the area repeatedly for any things out of the norm, and my hand flutters to my side, ready to draw any weapon as my spiritual power flares, ebbing with warning.

The body's hanging in the middle of the room, so there's no indication of where the kappa are located. They could be in the stalls, in the ceiling, somehow beneath my feet or in the sinks or hanging lights—I wouldn't know, because prankster youkai are pretty good at hiding their youki. With a silent inhale from my sleeve, I hold my breath just a little as I withdraw a sanctified knife and step closer to the girl.

"Ugh," I can't help groaning when I get an even more detailed view of the human anatomy. Not the greatest thing I've ever seen, because I'm definitely considering it the be the worst—even freakier than seeing the empty chests of those Open-Heart victims after coronary examination.

"Enjoying the view?"

FUC—

I twist my body around, making sure to cover up my buttocks as I spot a green creature ahead of me. I've never faced a kappa before, though I heard of some cases, so I always relied on old drawings and predictions of their appearances. And most of it was true—except I don't think real kappa have water in those craters they call their heads, which served as their life source in legends. I thought I could take them down that way, but apparently not.

They aren't as hideous as the drawings predicted; they have turtle-like beaks with a hole above (I think their nose), a mostly frog-like appearance, and pointed ears with ugly green skin—no hair. Their eyes are bigger than I thought, and the pee-yellow color is practically smirking at me, taunting me to make a false step. Funny how something so much shorter than you can be such a big threat.

Deciding to hide my disgust and tinge of fright, I smirk in a cocky way—the Inuyasha way. "Pretty fucking nasty, if you ask me," I tell the thing honestly, yet in a confident voice. "You must get a thrill out of it, though, being the sick bastards you are."

The thing smiles; I cringe, feeling the room temperature drop slightly as my eyes train on the small form before me, but also remain aware of the carcass nearby. The kappa says, "We get a thrill out of many other things, too."

I growl impressively—Inuyasha's rude behavior must be contagious—and snap, "I'll kill you, you little bastard, before any of that shit happens!" I expect it, or him, to flinch or ease away when I charge at him with my knife, vision turning red as I imagine all that the monster's done to the dead girl hanging from the ceiling, but the thing's smirk merely widens sadistically. It's then that I'm jerked back by clawed hands, and finally take note of the green appendages sticking out of toilets, ceiling tiles, and moving out from behind the mirrors while the lights start flickering.

Realizing my mistake, my heart nearly stops beating.

If I'd been hungry for anything before, I just lost my appetite, and if I'd eaten anything before I came here, it'd have been thrown up a long time ago.


A/N: Reviews…reverse psychology…

… DON'T CLICK THE BUTTON. 8|