Disclaimer: I don't own InuYasha, nor do I own Garden State.

Shrine state:

Chapter 1: Coming back home

He always had the same dream. The same scenario. In his dream, he was inside a plane. The trip seemed like going well. Tedious, but, when isn't tedious a good thing if aeroplane trips were involved? The lesser out of normal events, the best. Then, in one mere instant, the plane started crashing. Everything would be moving, and, everywhere around him, he would see people were panicking, hurrying for their life saving vests and oxygen masks. He, however, wouldn't. He wouldn't even react. Like nothing was happening. Then, as the plane crashed, the strongest, whitest light you could ever see shined. And she came. He couldn't see her face – the light was too blinding.

He was woken up by a rude ringing, and a familiar voice….

"…Hey, how can we understand each other if we don't ever talk? Look…"

He was wide awake now.

He looked around to see where the familiar, and yet almost long forgotten voice came from. There wasn't much to look at, really. His room had only a king sized bed with his old, but much loved blood red cover and white sheets, a closet, and a telephone. He looked, and the answering machine's light was blinking.

Well there it was. The source of the long forgotten, yet familiar voice.

"…Look…I….I don't know how to say this, but you have to come home. Something happened….Your mom. She died."

He was wide awake. Yet he didn't get up. He felt the sadness taking a grip in his already numb heart. He wanted to cry, but the tears…

They just would not come.

'You just can't fight the tears that ain't coming…' He thought with a grimace.

Ten minutes of ceiling-staring later, he got up from bed and directed himself to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror of his medicine cabinet. Everyday he would look at himself in the mirror. But who was he really?

'I wish I knew...'

Opening the cabinet, he stared at the perfectly stacked prescribed pills. According to his loving father, they were supposed to make you feel…Happy. Looking at them, the reached for the orange container that he was currently taking, took the lid off and put one of the Happy pills inside of his mouth. He lowered his head to the tap and drank from it, swallowing the Happy Pill with tap water.

Ten minutes later, he was out of his small, nearly-empty Los Angeles apartment He took his car and drove off. Or he wished he drove off. He was so stuck in traffic that he couldn't even move.

For millionth time in this situation, he thanked his Happy Pills. At least he didn't get aggravated by the heavy traffic. He was too numb for that.

'Funny…' he thought.

That was the only time he liked his medicines.

When he got where he had to be, he figured that he should have a proper attire for the his Mother's Burial. He wandered if his ceremonial attire was still in shape. It's not like he could buy a suit or anything. Not that he didn't have the money. He had money, but he couldn't buy a new suit. That would be the most offensive thing he could do. Ever.

Some hours after that, he had to go to his evening job.

Unfortunately, he was late, and as always, he was constantly on the verge of losing this job.

And that just could not happen. Even though he had money, he needed to work to be able to live in the United States.

If he lost this job, then, that would be extremely hard to thrive in a city like Los Angeles. It was extremely hard to make it here. Though it seemed like everyone wanted to be served, all those rich, get-all-whatever-your-spoiled-heart-desires people just weren't happy with anything. One mere flaw would land him jobless.

As faith would have it, he worked at the most expensive and most fashionable restaurant in L A.

What right PR wouldn't do?

Honestly, the food wasn't even that good. But then again, as every dish in the house was overpriced by at least two or three hundred dollars, then, tips were very, very, very good. Well, all the waiters there deserved it. The clientele of that place was among the rudest, most obnoxious bastards one could ever imagine.

'So full of shit. From the cradle to the grave.´ He mused to himself. 'Spoiled rotten bastards.'

With little or no surprise, though, there he was. The most predictable man on Earth. The manager and his boss.

"Now where have you been?" He yelled out. "Look, idiot, if you're late one more time, I'd hate to do it, but, you'll have to go. Do you understand this?" As he said the last statement, the manager reached or his head and made a poking motion so that the information would get through his thick skull.

'Now that's a god dammed, fucking annoying thing'.

In less than a minute, though, he had his uniform on, and there he was, doing his job. As he went trough the beautifully decorated restaurant, which had modern design lamps, tables that reached one's knees, with water surrounding the tables. There were candles virtually everywhere, and the centrepieces were absolutely gorgeous. Other than the people attending the restaurant, it was lovely.

"Hello! We were waiting for the past half an hour!" the obnoxious blond girl said.

"Well, I'm sorry…." He began, as politely as he could manage, but, making sure that he couldn't care less about what she said.

"Well, you know what, just forget it!" she paused. "Just bring me a dry martini ASAP, and like some bread." She paused again as she looked at him. To her, he was mere dirt. A lower class whose sole purpose was to serve her. "what the fuck are you waiting for? Go!"

"I'm sorry, we don't have bread." He said

"What? You don't have bread? What kind of shitty restaurant is this, if you don't have bread?" she pressed

"Well..."

"Well, what?"

"We're a Vietnamese restaurant, we just don't serve bread" he replied with a shrug.

She seemed to take a while as she processed the information he had jus given her.

"You don't look Vietnamese, are you Vietnamese?" she grunted.

"No, I'm not Vietnamese. If you really want to know…"

"Fine!" she rudely cut him off. "Just bring me the martini and something to chew on. Fuck, bamboo, anything. Chewing gum, even! Just get it and get it ASAP!"

"Absolutely, we'll see what I can do."

With a very annoyed face, he went back to the kitchen.

Needless to say, the rest of his night was a lot like the beginning of his evening.

About seven hours later (he had lost count), he got off work. As he was getting on his car, he heard steps, and a second later, a voice called after him.

"Yo, InuYasha!" the voice said

"Hey, what's up, Spike?" InuYasha replied

"Hey, I'm throwing a big party today. Starting midnight, ending whenever. You in?" Spike asked, smoking a cigarette.

"I can't. Sorry. I gotta catch a plane later."

"Aw, man! Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no, don't worry about it. Go have fun. You crazy kids." InuYasha said jokingly.

"Well, wherever it is…Good Luck." Spike said with a shrug.

With that, InuYasha got in the car and drove off to his house, so he would get some clothes, his red blanket and the ceremonial attire.

As he packed the attire and the blanket, he realized how much they meant to him, and, even though he didn't want anything to do with that family anymore, he just couldn't bring himself to throw the only links to his family and past life away.

Deliberately forgetting his pills, he closed his luggage and went out of the door, closing it, and driving off to the airport.

Half an hour later, he found himself inside a plane, getting ready for a non-stop flight to Tokyo.

He couldn't help but wonder what kind of trouble, would his going back would bring.

Hey, please review.