January 15th, Prindle Street Café, Lunchtime
Kagome sat across the table from Sango, forlornly blowing bubbles into the dregs of her soda with a clear plastic straw. It was snowing outside, and every time someone opened the café door, a few flakes blew in along with an icy gust. She shivered.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Sango asked, concern lacing her voice.
Kagome set her glass down on the wooden table with a muffled clunk and sighed. "Not really," she finally admitted. They had been sitting there, eating lunch for the last twenty minutes.
"Because Kouga is going to be back tomorrow?" Sango hedged.
Kagome scowled and picked up her soda again, this time poking at the mostly melted ice with the straw.
Sango nodded to herself. "You know, you don't have to stay with him. You don't have to go with him to Russia."
Kagome sighed. "I know. But I've spent two years of my life with him. If I didn't go… If I just… ended things, I'd feel like I would have wasted all of that time and effort. And he's still… familiar to me, you know?"
Sango reached across the table and pulled the soda that Kagome was fidgeting with out of her hands. "I do know. But why suffer just because that suffering is familiar to you? And, you've learned things from this relationship, haven't you? So it's not a waste."
"Well…sure I've learned things." She paused. "I'm not—I'm not suffering though. That word is too strong."
"Are you sure about that?" Sango rested her chin in her hand, setting a steady gaze on Kagome, who refused to meet it. "Because you've seemed really unhappy to me for months now, and especially so more recently."
Kagome bit her lip. She knew Sango was right. She'd known it since that summer night the year before when she had left Kouga sitting alone on a park bench. She finally raised her eyes to meet Sango's, observing the worry that pulled her friend's brows together.
"I am unhappy," Kagome whispered. "I don't love him anymore. I don't think I have for a while."