Oh man, it should be entirely illegal to feel like this much shit. Seriously, who the hell's bright idea was it to invent hangovers? And crashes? She was just starting to come down from her high. You'd think it would have happened when she had passed out on the floor of… somewhere. But oh no, someone far up in the sky obviously hated Kagome's guts with a fiery passion, because she was still tweaked. She woke up tweaked and crashing, and had a hangover that could rival the malice of the gods. What the fuck, man?

She was twitchy, shaky, really. She couldn't write because her hand wouldn't stay the fuck still. She could barely see two feet in front of her face because her vision was too blurry and her hangover induced, pounding head begged for sleep, but her racing heart wouldn't allow it. Whose bright idea was it to allow her to do this to herself? Whoever it was, she was going to murder them. Slow and painful murder, now that was something she could indulge in. She shook her head back and forth trying to rid it of some of the jumble; the crash was so not-fucking-welcomed at the moment. It was making her pissed as hell, on top of everything else going wrong with her body.

An unsteady hand rubbed her eyes. Was it so much to ask for her heart to calm the fuck down so she could sleep?

Oh, and also, wanna know something splendid? Something so freaking awesome that she could just jump around in circles, flailing her arms and shitting rainbows? She was sitting in fucking class, and she could feel fucking Inuyasha's fucking eyes boaring holes into the side of her fucking face.

Damn Sango for staying home today. Damn her for getting drunk and damn her for being the smart bitch that she was and staying home to get some online college courses done. And, most of all, damn her for leaving an empty seat next to her in English and damn the bastard sitting next to her for filling it. He didn't have to. He just did. Because he hated her. Holy damn, man… everyone fucking hated her today, huh?

And then her head shot up. A glorious memory. Oh, that asshole was going to pay. He did this to her! The dipshit… She gritted her teeth, "Bankotsu…" It wasn't much more than a menacing growl, but hot damn, a growl was worth a thousand ominous, pain-induced, nausea-building words.

"What?"

Her head snapped toward Inuyasha, the static around her eyes and scowl almost tangible, "None of your fucking business, bastard! Now turn the hell around and stop fucking staring at me!" She was seething in anger; it was getting dangerously close to where she'd have to scream and tear out her hair. She was goin to burst, damnit, she was going to burst.

Fucking coke. How much had she done?

Inuyasha stared at the tick the corner of her eye had mysteriously developed over the period of class. He watched as her hand shook almost uncontrollably on the desk and how she tried to desperately to hide it, attempting to hastily drum her fingers on the hard surface to mask how little control she really had over the offending appendage. She repeatedly rubbed her eyes, as if seeing straight was beyond her, and her breaths came in short pants. He could hear her heart beat, he could smell her frustration with the lack of control over her body, and he could smell the drugs. Hell, one good sniff and he could smell every drink, hit, and drug she had taken the previous night.

It wasn't that she had never come to school with a hangover—he could always tell when she'd had a long night. But this was ridiculous. This was… just fucking stupid. Was she retarded? Not only could she have killed herself with how much shit he knew she'd ingested, but coming to school like this? She needed to rest and she looked like she was about to keel over. Her erratic heartbeat sure as hell wasn't doing much to calm his nervousness. It was even more dangerous for her than if a human had done it because if a teacher noticed her behavior well, hell, it wouldn't take a genius to pick up the signs. They'd drug test her, and that… well that would be the end for her.

His concealed ears turned in her direction. Did she just say something? "What?"

Jeeze. He now wished he hadn't said it. She looked like she was going to lunge at him and gouge his eyes out with the pencil she could hardly pick up. He could feel the heat radiating off her in waves and prayed to God that whatever she was about to screech at him was screamed in the form of a whisper.

"None of your fucking business, bastard! Now turn the hell around and stop fucking staring at me!"

A few surrounding students turned to stare at them, but when they realized it was Inuyasha and Kagome they quickly turned back around, dismissing it as a normal brawl. The teacher didn't even spare a passing glance, though he was sure she'd heard it. He thanked God. If God existed, he thanked him profusely.

"Jeeze. Touchy, touchy. What's got you all riled up, princess?" As if he didn't already know. Though it would be absolutely grand if he could get her to tell him herself.

"Are you deaf? I just said it was none of your fucking business. Now if you would be so kind as to not be a piece of constipated shit and a pain in my ass for once. Leave. Me. Alone." She spat the last words with unbridled venom as she moved to massage her aching temples. Too bad her shaking hands did nothing but rattle her brain enough to make her blow up with irritation and unrestrained fury. Okay, that was it. She slapped her hand onto the desk, causing a rather frightening crack to be heard throughout the room.

"Fuck!"

All heads snapped to her direction. Inuyasha winced, that was a little louder than her last outburst.

"Miss Higurashi! I will not tolerate that language in my classroom! Be quiet or leave. I will not tell you again."

All eyes leered closely at the girl in question. Inuyasha's eyes were no different; he stared at her clenched fists and trembling features. He noticed the smallest bits of sweat forming at her hairline. Ah, fuck. He was going to have to do something, wasn't he? Her knuckles were turning white and he wouldn't have been surprised if her nails were drawing blood in her palm. She looked like she was ready to pick up her seat and hurl it to the front of the classroom.

Oh, shit. She was about to explode. He stood so quickly that he almost over-turned his own chair. The movement stopped her mouth from forming words… she was just about to going fucking ape shit on the teacher, but Inuyasha's voice stopped her mid breath.

"Sorry Miss Hursch," he said almost too quickly, "it was my fault. I'll stop pestering her."

All eyes widened. Even the teacher's. Even Kagome's. Did he just… oh yea. Yes, my friends, he did. Inuyasha Taisho, sworn enemy of the kickass bitch in question, just stood up for her. Took a hit… for her. What. The. Fuck.

He almost couldn't believe himself. He sat back down at the teacher's nod and turned to look at the wide-eyed girl. Her mouth was slightly open from words not said, and all tremors had stopped in her body. She looked like she wanted to say some sort of something resembling thanks, but her stock-still body broke its trance and she groaned instead. The crash was over. Her heart beat slowed and the shaking ceased.

"Oh, thank God," she whispered as her head fell onto her desk. Sweet sleep came over her form almost instantly; Inuyasha felt it. He suppressed the urge to catch her head before it hit the desk, but decided one favor was enough for the day.

For… ever, actually.

He was trying to ignore it. Like really, really hard. Like, with everything that he had, he was trying to look at the teacher or at his notebook paper, and not at the girl beside him. But man, he could hear her breathing, erratic and anomalous, and he could hear her heart. He could smell her sweat and her distress, and it was starting to make him a little nervous.

He chanced a look at her. She was trembling. Very much trembling. Trembling a lot, if you will. Her eyes were clenched shut and her face was contorted into a rather pained looking sneer. What the hell was up with her? He attempted to ignore her. It was not his place to be in her business. And it was definitely not his place to be worried about her well-being. Damnit, if she died right there in her desk from stress induced heart failure then he was determined not to give a shit.

His attention back on the teacher, he focused in on her lecture and his notes. This lasted for about a minute in a half before he turned his head in Kagome's direction once more. She was struggling with something. Her heartbeat was increasing at an incredible rate, and now he could hear her whimpers, barely audible, but able to be caught by his demon ears.

Shit. What could he possible do? Well, more like, what would his reputation allow him to do? There were probably tons of things that could be done to help her in actuality. None of which actions he could perform because, a, living, breathing people were in the immediate vicinity and b, she would never accept his help and c… damnit it all, he would never give his help to her so… that's that then.

He watched a droplet of sweat at her hairline make its way down her forehead. His eyes trailed the path, slowly but surely, and he watched her body quake, the rate at which it shook increasing rather rapidly. He looked around the classroom; no one was even aware of what was happening at the back of the class. If they did, they were ignoring it.

There were six rows of desks from front to back; they were in the middle of the sixth row. This was a small class, so all other students inhabited the fourth row and up and for once, he was almost glad for the alienation as he stared at the girl next to him. At first he had only sat here to piss her off, but now he was glad for his decision, if only so he could keep an eye on her.

She was such a mess. How long could her body withstand that stress? The tremors could almost he classified as convulsions. That teamed with the racing heart… why that fuck wasn't she awake yet?

And then it hit him. The same second he leapt from his seat to catch her falling form before it hit the ground, he smelt it—the scent of blood and tears.

He winced at the racket. Her chair had fallen along with his desk and the teacher's screech has enough to make his ears flatten against his head. "Inuyasha! Just what the hell is going on back there?" Some students gasped at her language, but he overlooked her question altogether as he attempted to hold onto the girl that jumped out of his arms. She threw a scathing glare in his direction as she gathered her senses, ignoring the piercing stares of her piers.

She didn't spare even a glance, let alone an explanation, to anyone as she grabbed her bag from the floor and bolted from the classroom, leaving everyone to gape after her. Inuyasha followed suit, grabbing the unopened water bottle and a tissue box from the teacher's desk and mumbling something about the girl's bad health.

He ran out of the class, only to be met with an empty hallway. He could sense that she was just around the corner, though, and made a slow, seemingly careless stroll to where she was. He was hoping to appear nonchalant, to turn the corner and make a cutting remark about her nightlife and how pathetic her weakness concerning the drug was. He was going to scowl, throw the water bottle at her and growl a venomous 'clean yourself up' before walking back to class. Yes, that was what he was going to do.

But then, he actually did turn the corner. And there was Kagome, back against the wall, bag forgotten on the floor. Her breaths were deep and fast, eyes wide and brimming with tears, though none of them fell. Her eyes were boaring holes into the wall in front her as she pressed her hands almost too powerfully on her chest, on her heart, willing the beat to slow so she could see straight.

She was afraid. Scared fucking shitless, actually. Damn those dreams! The images replayed in her mind, over and over like a movie picture. She had never been helpless before. She had never been cornered like that, without a chance in hell of escaping with her life.

"Kagome."

Her head slowly turned to look at Inuyasha, her eyes seeing past him though trained directly on his own. She didn't answer, just breathed heavily, quickly and deeply, while looking at his face and willing herself not to cry in his presence. Her hands were still on her heart, though she now allowed one to fall.

"You're bleeding."

What? Her free hand went to her face. Oh, she was bleeding. Her nose was allowing blood to freely descend down her face, sullying her shirt and the floor.

His look wasn't soft; he made damn sure of that. But it wasn't… mean, either. He held out his hands, water bottle and tissues in tow, but she hesitated to take them. Knowing him they were probably poisoned or something.

"Drink this. And for Pete's sake, wipe your face. You look like the worst kind of shit." When she made no movement that she heard him, he grabbed her hand, planning on forcing her to take the water. He was surprised when she yanked her hand out of his grasp and pulled it back to her person. As she cradled it to herself, like it was the most important thing in the world, he sighed, and willed back the urge to literally growl at her. "Look, Kagome, you did some heavy shit. A lot of heavy shit. And don't try to lie because I can smell it all over you. You're just freakin' out because of the drugs that aren't out of your system."

No response. Ah, damnit.

She was examining every finger, every curve of her knuckle and skin to check it for marring. This was the anxious paranoia stage, wasn't it? "Dear fucking… look, I'm not made of acid all right? Your hand is fine. So will you stop flipping a fucking bitch and take the damn tissues and take the damn water? I'm trying here. So just throw me a bone." He moved to touch her. She backed away.

Holy fucking cum soaked cock-sucking hell!

"Shit, man! You are a complete slave to this drug and it's fucking effects! I mean hot damn…" He turned a heel and started walking back to class, dropping the water and box onto the floor. If she wanted to have them, she could, but he sure as hell wasn't going to stand here and try and help this bitch if she didn't want it. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since the last time you cried in front of me," he added, gaining more distance between the two of them.

He didn't think she had heard it, didn't particularly want her to hear it. But her banshee screech and the piercing pain in the back of his head told him she had. His eyebrow ticked in annoyance as he turned around. His foot hit the side of a biology book. She hit him with a book? It was Kagome, of course she did. But the scent that assaulted his nose was enough to make him forget about it.

Tears made trails down her face as she pointed and screamed at him, "It has nothing to do with the drugs! You don't know anything about me so stop with you're fucking high horse and your fucking nose!" She wiped her face harshly with the back of her hand, "You don't know the first thing about it."

She bent down to pick up her bag, her biology book forgotten at a certain asshole's feet. Closing her eyes, she allowed air to fill her lungs, body still and stopped. Just… stopping, was what she needed. An eerie calm had flown over her, all tears and blood had ceased falling. All that was left was a flushed face of an angry girl as her eyes glared up at him. Willing the hurt to not shine through as she spat, dangerously composed and low, "How dare you bring that up you—you're such… a fucking bastard." She stood up straight and faced him fully, staring forebodingly, unbearably indignant, "I want you to get this in your head, Inuyasha. I hate you. You are a fucking tactless, emotionless ass and I want nothing to do with you from now on. Do not talk to me. Do not look at me. Just… stay the hell away."

She was backing away and he knew he should just let it be. He knew he shouldn't have said it but damn, he always had to have the last word didn't he? Referencing that day, that moment was an unspoken agreement between the two. That they would just never do it. And here he was, doing it twice in five minutes. "Now why does that stream of angry I'm-such-an-abused-soul crap sound so familiar? Oh yea, it's been yelled at me before. And you know, you oddly resemble the whore that yelled it. She was a naive, petty, little cheating bitch just like you, two fucking years ago when she last she screamed it! Shit, Kagome, doesn't your tune ever change?"

Silence.

He didn't mean it. Oh man did he not mean it. And he would have loved to have told her, but her face silenced him. It was something he had never seen before—what emotion was that? A mix of things… awe, pain, spite, confusion, disgust. Mostly hate, throw in a little sadness. He almost called out to her retreating form, running from him as fast as her legs could take her.

He could smell the salt again. Her tears, how he hated that smell. He hated it two years ago, and he hated it now. How had this gone so wrong? He had been trying to help her, but he couldn't even do that right without screwing up the girl's life and fucking up her head even more than he thought possible, more than he already had.

She was right. She was so, so, so fucking… right. She didn't need him at all. She was different, she had an addiction, and for fuck's sake, she had him. And looking back on it all, he might have just been the worst thing for her. How the hell had things gone so wrong? It was that day… that one stupid, shitty day that marked the turning point for them. If only that day had never come, if only he hadn't been so careless she would be—what would she be? Not this, that was for damn sure.

The day their lives had gone to hell. It was his fault. He wasn't so cowardly as to not admit it. It was all fucking him. But her retaliation was just… It was just so… It made him hate her. It caused him to hate her so much, as much as she despised him, at least. Yea, he'd hurt her, but she didn't have to hurt him back. She didn't have to. But his stupid embodiment of the words 'ignoramus' and 'asshole' had driven her to. And as much he loathed her definition of payback, he hated himself even more.

"Shit." He hated thinking about this. And there it is again! Damn it to hell! Hate, hate, hate. Hate fucked him over in more ways than one. He just didn't want to give a flying fuck about this damned game anymore. He hated this game, this game of hate.

He, who had allowed a stupid decision to fuck up an amazing sixth months of happiness, he, who had allowed his monumentally tangible pride to fuck up every day since then. He, who had thrown himself such a huge pity party in face of his demon heritage, when she was suffering from the same thing all along. He, who was more than happy to look passed their shit to try and help her, only to fuck up her life even more. And, mother fucking he, who had just broken the girl with the iron will to the point of fleeing from him in her misery-lain dejection. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid. Fucking. Hate!

He was some kind of asshole, wasn't he? He should just let her be.

He should really just… let her fucking be.

The first thing she did when she got home was collapse onto the floor. She had run the whole way and, even for her, that was a pretty freakin' far way to sprint while choking on her own sobs. Man, she felt like such a weak little street rat. She wished she could kick her own ass for it. Ah, if only Alina were here—where was she? England? She was always the one that made sure this kind of crap didn't happen.

She rolled onto her back. That really had happened, though, hadn't it? Not just the Inuyasha thing, not just the tears thing, but…

She looked at her hand, examined it further through her now clear eyes. It seemed to be fine before, and it seemed to be fine now. But in her dream it wasn't, so it wouldn't be for long. Damn it all! She loathed the fact that this shit was really gonna go down. Her hands were her weapons! How long would it last? There was a cast on it so…

Oh, fuck!

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" There was nothing like screaming expletives in the face of a future she couldn't change. Fuck, shit, and damn why couldn't she change it? This feeling was very familiar, the powerlessness. But this, this just wasn't fair. It was just plain cruel! When she had a dream, whichever power hungry bastard in the sky that wanted to make it so she couldn't change the future she saw, well… she just wanted him dead. She wanted him dead in a thousand different ways, a thousand times over. A thousands different torturous, painful, embarrassing ways in front of his older, hotter-than-him girlfriend!

"I hope she dumps his ass in the gutter…"

There was basic rule regarding Kagome and what she saw in her sleep: if it hasn't already happened, it will. She didn't often have dreams but, when she did, they were always in the form a past memory, or a future situation. And the situations she saw? They always happened. There was nothing that could be done to change them, nothing she could do to avoid any sort of pain she was sure to encounter. She could only sit, and wait—wait for whatever it was that was coming to find her, to get her, to take her. The only plus side to this mass-paranoia inducing sub-ability was that she could sometimes be a little prepared for what life threw her way.

And what she saw in class was, well, in an easily understandable phrase: her worst fucking nightmare ever. She remembered it clearly, and it was enough to make her sweat all over again. She couldn't tell where she was because it was so obscurely dark and she wasn't alone, that was for damn sure, but she would bet her left tit that the people hiding in the shadows weren't selling girl scout cookies. Normally this would be a walk in the park for her. Imminent danger? Naw, no sweat. But what was different, what made this scenario so much more frightening than the next—she didn't have her ability. Her hand was broken. It was broken and therefore, completely unusable. How the hell was she supposed to live her life if she couldn't be different? She was not normal, damn it! And she could not live if she was forced it be, even for a day.

There was a freaking cast on her mass-destruction inducing weapon. How was she supposed to exist with a cast on her weapon? That was the same as existing without a weapon. Which was the same as being completely powerless. Which, subsequently, was just going to make her a weak son of bitch walking around with a neon sign above her head that would say some variation on the words 'fresh meat, come get some now!"—aka, while you can—aka, while she has this fucking cast on her arm that makes it so you can pretty much do anything you want to her and there's not a damn thing she can do about it.

And the sucky part of it all? This wasn't a hypothetical. This was going to happen to her and she didn't know if she was going to come out of it alive. It was so real… she felt the terror down to her bones when she dreamt of it in class. She felt the hole inside of her where her ability laid, brewing, alive, but dormant, not able to come out to her defense. It felt like death. Plain and simple.

And then there was fucking Inuyasha. Okay, she could admit it to herself that she was almost, kind of, maybe, something along the lines of some sort of grateful to him for getting her out of trouble with the teacher. And also… sorta, kinda happy that he didn't let her fall to ground when she quite literally jolted awake and out of her nightmare, because hitting her head on the hard tile most likely would have caused some sort of brain damage or hemorrhaging, neither of which she was okay with.

"Kagome, are you aware that I could hear you screaming 'fuck' from the bottom of the stairs? And… that you're laying on the floor half inside your apartment, and half outside of it?"

"Yes. And I'm completely happy like this." She turned her head slightly to look at a sideways view of her best friend, "Go away, Sango."

"I left your place for five minutes to go get some aspirin. I come back and you're—there's dried blood under your nose, you know." Oh man, Bankotsu was going to look like a puddle when she was done with him. Granted, Kagome had been way freaking funny when she was tweaked on all that shit, and Sango was too drunk to give a damn what she was on, but now she was awake and fully functional (well, almost) and Bank was going to pay with one of his nuts.

Sigh. "No, Sango, there isn't. Now can you go away?"

"Yes there—whatever. I'm going to sleep… and I'm going to steal an icepack from the guy that never locks his door on the second floor. My head hurts. I'll come back when I wake up."

"Okay bye."

"Jeeze. I love you too, best friend." And with that she was gone. Her fading steps could be heard in the direction of the stairs.

Kagome groaned. What was she silently bitching about again? Oh yes. But just because he found his heart for, like, a millisecond in his blackened, evil encrusted chest so did not give him the right to go sniffing her and assuming things. And, okay, granted, maybe some of the things he had accused her of were actually true but that still did not make it okay for him to deduct it by smelling her in the first place. She did not give her permission to be sniffed. And still, even more to the point, he was wrong. What she did during nightmare-induced hysteria had nothing to do with the damned drugs… maybe the bloody nose did. But that could have been from the nightmare too! How could she have known? She was asleep.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that he had no right to go and call her a druggy. She was not a drug addict. She was damn sure she was not a drug addict. She could stop whenever she wanted… And where the hell did he get off talking about the past? The past was the past: passed. And it should stay there. They had both made a silent oath to never speak of it and there he was fucking speaking of it!

Shit on fucking toast! It made her so mad… she could cry again. But out of frustration! Speaking of which… Oh man. Oh freaking pooch screw, mess of sin, and more shit on more toast. She cried, hadn't she? In front of him? Going to school was going to be quite the bitch. In a short phrase, narrowing down the extremities of the experience she was sure to endure—It. Was going. To suck. Balls.

And if he dared even show his face around her, let lone make fun of her or speak in general, she wasn't sure if she would be able to hold back. She felt like shit, thanks to her previous night's activities, and she could see her crap-feeling disposition last through the weekend until Monday because she sure as hell wouldn't put it passed the hangover gods to do something like that to her. She was fucking terrified because of her nightmare, she was pissed as hell because of Inuyasha's existence, she was embarrassed because she'd cried, and most of all, as much as she hated to admit it… she was sad. She was miserable because she was reliving the damned betrayal all over again because he had to go and talk about it. Damn him for talking about it! Why would he bring that up? It was just so… mean… of him. Meaner than usual. Well, regardless, he did, and she fucking hated his guts for it. She told him to stay away from her, but she knew he wouldn't (that would be entirely too pleasant of him) and him disobeying her along with how shitty and frightened she felt, teamed with her basically tangible fury, embarrassment, and grief? She. Would. Murder. Him.

For his own sake, he'd better not be anywhere near the edge of her senses or her line of sight for the next two freaking months because at this rate, if he ever found himself in her immediate vicinity, Kagome wasn't sure there would be anything she could do to stop her hands from ripping him in two. Though, now that she thought about it, would that really be all that bad?

She smiled. Then she frowned. It could be bad. She could rip him two… but she could cry again as well. Seeing him scared her a little because, in all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure what he reaction to him would be. And what if it were the latter? Then what would she do?

Her thoughts were interrupted once more as she heard footsteps coming toward her from the stairs, "Sango, if you dare comment on how I haven't moved yet I swear—"

"Pathetic. Get up."

The hair on her arms prickled upwards at the sound. The second that cold voice met Kagome's ears, she was on her feet, arms tense and ready to block a blow if needed. Well damn it to holy hell, if she got on her knees and begged for a break it wouldn't come, would it? Well then, yippity-fucking-doo-da, she loved her shitty luck. "Wow, just my luck. I wish for Alina… and I get you."

Kikyo gave her a once over, and she could almost feel the frigid, spiteful malevolence hitting her in waves with each stonily spoken word, "Come now, Kagome. Give your big sister a kiss."

A/N: and the plot thickennnssss! :)

Stay tuned!

And also… my heart broke in half a little last chapter. So little reviews I could cry about it. I hate begging, really…

But please review. Even if its just one word! It keeps me motivated…

I updated super quick for you!