Chapter Three: Unsatisfactory Answer
"… and that concludes today's lesson." The usual coughing, mumbling and shuffling filled the lecture hall, and slowly the students began to file out of the auditorium. Kagome quickly slung her bag over her shoulder and dropping her head, tried to make her way as inconspicuously as possible towards the doors. After a few moments, she felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Don't turn around, she told herself sternly. Lowering her head even further, she charged forward and ploughed directly into one of the older women in front of her, causing her to cry out in annoyance.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" the woman said loudly, and Kagome quickly bowed and apologized sheepishly. Almost unconsciously, she glanced over her shoulder as she rubbed her neck and froze. Michifusa was glaring at her from the bottom of the auditorium with a distinctly suspicious look.
"Eh heh heh," Kagome laughed nervously, turning around and sprinting the rest of the way up the stairs. She took a moment to inhale sharply as she spilled out into the large hallway, putting a hand on her chest to calm herself down. I just know he's starting to suspect something, she thought to herself. It had been two weeks since their encounter over the essay, and in all that time, Michifusa's behaviour had not even hinted that anything out of the ordinary had happened. He was as rude, distant and efficient as ever, both in teaching and his interactions with her. It was almost as if the whole incident had never even occurred, and it was driving Kagome crazy.
There were a few small differences from before, however. One was Kagome's increased sensitivity to Michifusa's presence. She watched him like a hawk with every opportunity that presented itself. Which was not to say that she had very many chances to observe him in class; his lectures were rapid and furiously clinical, leaving very little time for anything other than panicked note-taking. Never having been one to let obstacles such as time and feasibility stop her before, however, Kagome made the decision that Michifusa should be kept under surveillance as often as humanly possible. And if it's not humanly possible to observe him during the class, then I just have to do it afterwards, Kagome reasoned to herself. It had seemed like a perfectly sound idea two weeks ago.
As she rushed down the corridor and cautiously tucked herself away in a small alcove near the front doors of the building, however, she began to question the wisdom of her plan. Even before she had begun to employ what she had dubbed her "Super Secret Higurashi Ninja Stalking Technique," Michifusa's glares had always unnerved her. Now that she actually DID have a reason for him to be glaring at her, she had a constant and nagging paranoia of being discovered. "I'm being silly again, I know it," Kagome said to herself as she glanced down the hallway expectantly. "If he really noticed me, he would've said something already." It wasn't a very reassuring argument, but it was better than nothing, and she used it to tamp her nervousness down ruthlessly as she settled against the wall.
Rummaging through her backpack, Kagome drew out the newspaper she had stored there and unfolded it in front of her face. She scanned the paper briefly, pausing only to make sure she was holding it upright, before surreptitiously glancing down the hallway, waiting for her target to appear. Predictably, a few minutes later the crowds of students gradually filtered away, leaving the building only sparsely populated by a few stragglers like herself. After what seemed like an eternity, her patience was finally rewarded by the distinct clicking of Michifusa's polished shoes against the hard floor. Kagome sunk back as far as she could into the alcove and held the paper high over her nose. She waited until she heard the heavy glass doors shut behind him, and then quickly dropped the paper, hurrying outside after him.
Twilight was already descending, something for which Kagome was appreciative of. It made it easier for her to hide herself as she surreptitiously followed Michifusa into the college's communal parking lot. It was almost exactly the same as the previous times she had followed him; the man kept a rigorous schedule even outside of the classroom. Like clockwork, Kagome thought with a small mental smirk. Then she let out a squeak of surprise and dove behind one of the cars as Michifusa abruptly stopped walking. Shoot… he didn't see me, did he? Her spirits sank as he called out.
"Higurashi." Michifusa's tone was laced with authority. He might have only said "Higurashi" but Kagome knew he really meant "Get out here right now, or else."
Busted, she thought as she slowly stood up from behind the car she was crouching behind and dusted herself off. "Oh, Professor Michifusa! Fancy seeing you here! I, um… I just dropped my backpack, and I was picking it up, and… umm…" She broke into a cold sweat as Michifusa turned and raised one eyebrow very slightly in her direction. Think! she berated herself and quickly broke eye contact. "… I was looking at the tires on this car!" she blurted out, mentally groaning. "Why will you look at that! They're… uhh… missing hubcaps." Stupid car, Kagome thought angrily as she noticed the vehicle she had chosen to hide behind was in less than pristine condition. Calling it a "typical poor student's heap of junk on wheels" probably would have been kind.
Michifusa closed his eyes and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. She almost swore she could hear him muttering under his breath. Finally, he replaced the glasses and squinted at her irately. "Why are you following me?" he asked her bluntly.
"Following? Who's following?" Kagome answered shrilly, waving her hands with a fake smile. "Really, I was just… just…" Her grin faded under the assault of Michifusa's glare. She was mildly surprised that his thick glasses didn't shatter under the pressure.
"Higurashi, you have been following me for the past two weeks. I find it to be highly inappropriate," he said, striding over to her.
"Inappropriate?" Kagome echoed, confusion crossing over her face as he glared at her. A few seconds passed, and slowly understanding filtered through Kagome's mind. A blush rose on her cheeks, and she took an involuntary step backwards, wincing. "Ugh… no way! Hey, it's not like THAT!" she explained. "I'm definitely not… uh,interested in you. At least, not that way," she amended quickly. Catching her unvoiced admission of guilt, her face flamed with embarrassment once more. "Besides, I'm not following you!" she insisted stubbornly.
Michifusa remained silent, but his disapproval was practically radiating off of him in visible waves. When he spoke, his voice was coloured with scorn. "Repetition does not transform a lie into truth. Explain yourself," he demanded abruptly.
It caught Kagome off guard, and she fumbled, trying to come up with a plausible reason for her inexcusable behaviour. "Umm, well… ah, you see, that is to say…" she started, clutching at straws for an explanation that wouldn't get her reprimanded or even possibly expelled from the college. The only one she could come up with which she thought Michifusa might believe involved claims of complete insanity, which unfortunately was also sounding more and more accurate by the moment.
The professor made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "You are stalling," he said scathingly. "Answer quickly, before I lose my patience." His tone was menacing, and Kagome felt like a cornered animal.
"Are you threatening to throw me out of class again?" she asked hotly. "Isn't that more than just a little bit dishonourable?"
Michifusa leaned back, unruffled by her outburst. "There is no dishonour in using the weapons I have at my disposal to ward off…" He eyed her bemusedly. "… potential enemies." Focused on her once more with his piercing gaze, a frown etched itself across his face. "Unlike the declaration of an obvious untruth; I find this not only to lack honour but also to be mildly insulting."
Kagome dropped her head in guilty defeat, feeling ashamed of herself. "Alright, so I have been following you…" she said, twisting her fingers together. Ohh, how to say this, she thought nervously. "Well, you see, I'm a little worried about you." Cautiously, she peeked through her bangs at the professor.
He was still standing in front of her, his face frozen in a look of mild surprise. "… What?" he said after a few moments, confused.
"You know," Kagome floundered, feeling her face grow red. "After that conversation we had about my essay…" she began.
"Ahh, that. I see," Michifusa said, his confusion smoothing away into his normal haughty countenance. "Suffice to say, your second attempt was satisfactory. Do not concern yourself over the matter, you will receive an appropriate grade for your efforts," he told her easily.
Kagome's embarrassment was fast being replaced with a mounting sense of uneasiness. "Hey, wait a minute here. I wasn't talking about the essay!" she said to him.
Michifusa sighed and somehow managed to look annoyed despite the fact that his facial muscles hadn't noticeably moved. "What then?" he asked brusquely, obviously growing impatient.
Kagome stared at the professor, befuddled. "Don't you remember our conversation?" she asked him finally.
"Indeed," Michifusa snorted. "I instructed you to correct the flaws in your research paper, and allowed you a week to make the necessary adjustments."
"I meant after that," Kagome replied, exasperated. "You know… the part where you sort of went ballistic?" She bit her lip as Michifusa's face lowered into a disbelieving scowl.
"I went 'ballistic,'" he repeated dryly.
"You seriously don't remember?" Kagome asked again, her own eyebrows shooting up. Well, that explains why he's been acting like nothing's out of the ordinary, she thought to herself. It doesn't make sense, though. How could he not remember? She squirmed as she noted that Michifusa was pinning her under another one of his patented glares.
"While I have long observed the tendency of my students to overreact upon the reception of an unfavourable mark, I do not recall ever having been referred to as 'ballistic,'" he muttered with a look of revulsion. "You are letting your imagination run away with you again, Higurashi." With an almost imperceptible sniff of annoyance, he turned away from her.
He really doesn't remember anything, Kagome thought with some surprise. Before she could stop herself, she found her hand shooting out and latching onto Michifusa's arm. "No, wait, please!" she called out. A chill passed through her as the tall man froze and slowly turned his head down to observe the hand resting on his jacket. Just as slowly, his gaze lifted from her hand and settled on her face.
"Remove your arm from my person," he grit out menacingly. His voice grated over her nerves like nails across a chalkboard.
Flinching, Kagome quickly released his arm, remembering the rage he had worked himself up into three weeks ago that had started this whole mess. Swallowing thickly, she tried to appease him. "I didn't mean any disrespect, sir," she began quickly, and forced herself to meet his eyes. "But, umm, I think you…" … are a demon yourself! Sure, go ahead and say it Kagome. Why don't kiss your high school diploma goodbye while you're at it! Michifusa was still waiting for her answer, and she tried to convey the most reasonable version of the truth she could think of. "… I think you had a seizure while we were talking," she told him. "You don't remember that at all? I was very scared," she admitted. At least that part is one-hundred-percent honest to goodness truth, she thought.
Michifusa regarded her from over the rim of his thick glasses with an air of disbelief. "Are you certain you are not projecting your own 'illnesses' onto others?" he told her incredulously. His frown deepened at Kagome's earnest nod. "You are serious," he said after a moment, looking thoughtful. "I do recall that you appeared to be somewhat unsettled towards the end of our conversation."
That would be the understatement of the year! Kagome thought with a mental roll of her eyes. "Yeah, well… I was worried you might have a relapse or something. It was kind of scary to see you lose control that last time."
The thought that he might have lost control at all, more so in public with an audience, seemed to strike Michifusa like a whip, and he recoiled visibly with a look of offended horror. Recovering quickly, he stepped away from Kagome. "While your concern is appreciated, you undoubtedly understand if I prefer to leave the medical analysis and treatment of any potential condition to my personal physician. Please refrain from engaging in this sort of harassment in the future," he finished coldly.
Kagome flushed with indignation. "Hey! I'm not stalking you!" she said angrily. "There really is something wrong with you and you can't hide it from me!" This time she refused to shrink back when Michifusa whirled around and used his great height to tower over her.
"While I find your concern to be touching," he said, emphasizing the last word with a clear note of repulsion, "your presence is neither required nor appreciated." He raised his hand as Kagome began to protest, silencing her. "You seem to think that I am making a request of you." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "You are mistaken."
Kagome glared at Michifusa, unruffled. She thought it was a rather impressive feat, considering the terrible cramps her neck would have after their conversation was over. "You can't just order me to stay away from you, you know. I can do whatever I like outside of your crummy class. So there!" she said, crossing her arms and scowling. For a moment, she thought the man would respond with another barbed quip aimed in her direction. Instead, however, he closed his eyes and sighed, looking less like an intimidating giant and more like an ordinary middle-aged man, tired and washed out.
"Once again, it appears you are not thinking through the consequences of your actions." Cracking an eye open, he regarded Kagome wearily. "Have you not considered the effect your 'extracurricular activities' would have on your reputation, and mine?"
Kagome glowered at him, feeling another blush steal over her cheeks. "I already said I wasn't interested in you that way," she told him curtly.
"And naturally others will believe you, due to your remarkable powers of persuasion," he finished pointedly. Seeing Kagome's look of surprise and embarrassment, he sighed deeply. "You are naive to a fault, Higurashi. Thank you for your concern, but it is completely unnecessary," he told her stiffly. "I trust we will not be required to repeat this conversation in the future." With that, he turned away.
Kagome watched his retreating back and let out a huge breath of relief. "Wow, that went better than expected," she said to herself. She furrowed her brow, considering her options. Well, he noticed me, so tailing him after school is out of the question. I can't give up now, though. Narrowing her eyes, she spun around and made her way back towards the street. "So if he doesn't want me following him… hmm," she grinned to herself as a plan began to form. The possibility of actually doing what he had asked never even once crossed her mind.
- x – x – x -
Click. Clickity click click. Click click.
Kagome's fingers flew over the keyboard. Her eyes were glued to the monitor in front of her, and she scanned the screen rapidly. Finding what she was looking for, she brightened and let out a small cheer.
"Ah ha! Ieyasu Michifusa, here he is." She blinked and looked at the screen again. "Forty-eight years old? You've got to be kidding me," she said with a note of disbelief as she glossed over his record. "Late thirties, maybe, but almost fifty? There's something definitely wrong here," she noted. Scanning the page further, she smiled as she found the address she was looking for. "Hmm… he lives in Setagaya!" she noted with some surprise. "If I take the rail, I can make it there in about half an hour…" Kagome leaned back and glanced at her clock, calculating the time it would take. "Shoot, but I don't want to be so late that I miss the last train…"
"Honey! Dinner's ready!"
Kagome was jolted out of her musing by her mother's voice. Standing up and rolling her shoulders, she cracked her neck and made her way out of her room. "If I get out before eight, it should still be okay," she mumbled to herself, rushing down the stairs and seating herself at the table.
Her mother, grandfather and little brother were all sitting around the low table, which was heaped with a large steaming bowl of rice and several small, delicious looking dishes on the center of the table. Kagome inhaled deeply, enjoying the rich smell of real home cooking, and smiled thankfully at her mother.
"I'm so glad we could all be together for dinner today," Mrs. Higurashi said softly, returning her daughter's smile. It faltered slightly, however, as Kagome nodded quickly and reached for the bowl of rice, quickly piling her plate high with food.
"Mmm… this is delicious, mom!" she said between rapid gulps, hurriedly shovelling her dinner into her mouth. I wonder what time it is now, she was thinking to herself as she ate. She was so caught up in her planning that Kagome didn't notice the glare her grandfather was directing at her or her mother's disappointed look. She did notice, however, when Souta began to snicker.
"Piggy piggy piggy!" he teased, pointing his chopsticks at her.
Mrs. Higurashi sighed loudly. "Souta! Behave!" she scolded, causing the young boy to sulk. It didn't stop him, however, from making few more small grunting noises in Kagome's direction with a mischievous grin. "If you don't stop that this instant, you won't get any dessert," she said with a note of warning.
Kagome smirked and paused eating long enough to stick her tongue out at her brother. "Serves you right, you little monster," she told him, giggling as he glared at her. Grabbing a glass off the table, she chugged down her water and swallowed loudly before speaking again. "Umm, mom… I sort of have to go out again after dinner," she explained.
Mrs. Higurashi dropped her own chopsticks onto her plate with an audible clatter, and her grandfather let out a loud snort. "What?" they cried out in unison.
Kagome blinked, pausing momentarily to regard them both. "What's the big deal?" she asked, genuinely confused.
"A young girl like yourself shouldn't be wandering the streets of Tokyo at night!" her grandfather said instantly, causing Kagome to roll her eyes.
"I agree with your grandfather, dear. I don't think you really understand the dangers of wandering around this late by yourself," her mother added.
Kagome groaned loudly. "Mama! I'm eighteen years old already! I've been risking my life with demons almost constantly for three years in the feudal era. I think I can take care of myself in Tokyo at night."
Mrs. Higurashi sighed deeply. "Yes, I know you can take care of yourself on the other side of the well, Kagome. That nice boy Inuyasha and your friends are there to help you out. But what about here, in our time?" Her voice became gentle. "It wasn't so difficult when you could convince Ami or Yuki to go with you, but now you're all alone. Honey, you just don't know—"
Kagome tuned out the rest of her mother's argument, a scowl settling across her face. Thanks for bringing up my social life at the dinner table, Mama, she thought dryly. "I'm not that far gone yet! I'm a big girl, I know how to take care of myself in the city," she said with exasperation. "Anyway, you can't stop me. This has something to do with a problem I'm trying to solve in the feudal era," she continued more gently. "It's very important to our quest." Well, it's close enough to the truth, and at least that should get Grandpa off my back, she thought privately.
Souta interrupted, his eyes growing wide. "Oh cool!" he shouted. "So you mean Inuyasha is going to come over and help you out? We haven't seen him in like forever!"
"NO!" Kagome yelled a little too loudly. "And if he does come through the well looking for me, don't mention this to him!" she added quickly. This time Kagome noticed the multiple stares that were directed towards her from around the table.
"Kagome, is there something you're not telling us?" Mrs. Higurashi began quietly with a concerned look.
I hate lying, Kagome thought miserably as she met her mother's eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was digger herself into a deeper and deeper grave. It can't be helped, she thought after a moment, and took a deep breath. "Well, the problem is sort of about Inuyasha. He doesn't know it yet, though." Seeing Souta's face grow anxious at the thought that his hero could be in danger, she waved her hand reassuringly. "No, you don't need to worry about Inuyasha, there's nothing wrong with him. It's just… umm, well, it's something I found out in my history class that might not have happened yet," she explained. "I just have to find out for sure," she added quietly, dropping her eyes to her plate and staring at it blankly. No matter how skilfully she tap-danced around the problem with her family, her last statement was brutally honest; Kagome knew she wouldn't be able to rest or perform well in either time until she had an answer for what was happening to Michifusa and an explanation for the absence of demons in the modern world.
Her mother regarded her suspiciously for a moment longer, looking as if she didn't entirely believe Kagome's explanation. She did finally seem to understand her daughter's silence. "Well, okay. But don't stay out too late, dear," she said softly.
Kagome blinked and looked up, a sunny smile breaking over her face. "Thanks Mama!" she cried out, springing up from her seat and rushing around the table to plant a quick peck on her mother's cheek. "I have to rush, I don't want to miss the late train," she explained hurriedly as she scrambled away from the kitchen table and grabbed her shoes and a small backpack. In less than a few minutes, she was ready, and with a final yell and a wave, slammed the front door and escaped into the night.
Back inside the house, the three remaining members of the Higurashi family sat silently around the table, still absorbing Kagome's whirlwind exit from the shrine. The rice had stopped steaming, but no one made a move to touch the rapidly cooling food. Finally, Souta broke the silence.
"I'm going to my room," he declared, his face surly as he tossed his chopsticks noisily onto the table.
"Souta, wait—" Mrs. Higurashi called out, but a gentle pressure on her arm stopped her from continuing after her son.
"Let him go, my dear. He needs some time alone," her father said gently.
Mrs. Higurashi blinked back some tears unexpectedly. "I know, Papa," she said softly. "But… I don't want to lose him, too."
The old man closed his eyes, looking very serious. "We haven't lost our Kagome yet," he corrected her firmly.
"Haven't we?" Mrs. Higurashi countered more forcefully than she had intended. "Look at her, even when she's at home with us she's not really here with us." She looked wistfully at the half-eaten remains of the ruined dinner; she had spent all day preparing it, a collection of Kagome and Souta's favourite foods. Now the meal lay abandoned, much like her hope of having the entire family spend some quality time together that evening.
"It's her duty to the Jewel of the Four Souls. You know that she can't back away from her destiny," Grandpa Higurashi said comfortingly, seeing his daughter's sadness.
Mrs. Higurashi stood up suddenly, throwing the towel that had been slung over her shoulder onto the table and noisily clearing away the dishes. "You're right of course, Papa," she said, a bitter look on her face. She was stopped as her father stood and drew her into his arms in a surprisingly strong hug, despite his frail appearance.
"Don't worry. Have confidence in our Kagome, she'll manage to find a way to make everything right again," he reassured her.
"I know, Papa, I know," Mrs. Higurashi said, sniffling loudly. "But will her answer ever include us?" Her father stroked her back once more but remained silent, and she closed her eyes in resignation.
- x – x – x -
Kagome stood under the streetlamp on the sidewalk, staring at the row of houses on the street with wide eyes. "Wow," she breathed, shaking herself out of her stupor and glancing at the numbers lining the doors. "I can't believe Professor Michifusa can afford a whole house to himself!" she whistled as she found the street number she was searching for. Sure enough, Michifusa's car was standing in the driveway in front of the small, unassuming white building. "Time to go into Secret Agent Kagome mode," she giggled to herself, slipping out from under the streetlight and slinking towards Michifusa's small yard.
Her efforts to be stealthy were something of a wasted effort; in her hurry to get out of the house, Kagome had forgotten to change into darker clothing. She was sure her bright yellow shirt was glowing like a neon light bulb in the moonlight. To make matters worse, Michifusa's neatly manicured lawn was practically free of any hints of shrubbery. Only a few small bushes stood near the windows, and Kagome quickly snuck up to the house and tried to hide herself behind one of them. She wondered if she looked as silly as she felt. This is no time to get distracted, Kagome, she told herself sternly. You have a mission to fulfil! Crouching down underneath the windowsill, she glanced around to make sure that she hadn't yet been noticed, and then yelped as a few of the branches snagged on her clothing and scratched her bare arms. Shoot, this looks a lot easier in the movies, she cursed to herself, extracting herself from the bush's prickly grasp. Taking a deep breath, she collected her courage and then carefully raised herself up, peeking in through the window panes.
She wasn't surprised by what she saw; a tiny lamp on a plain black table was spilling warm yellow light into an almost barren room. A very few small sculptures and framed prints lined the walls, all undoubtedly having some sort of historical significance that completely escaped Kagome. There was also a dark sofa next to the black table, and arranged in front of it was yet another low coffee table. A few magazines and a folded newspaper were carelessly scattered across its top. The only other detail that caught Kagome's eye was the colourful calendar hanging on the wall directly across from her. It displayed a large, bright photograph that stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of the otherwise sterile, washed out décor of the room.
"He doesn't even have a television," Kagome noted, not really surprised by the information. Unfortunately, as interesting as it was, her goal was to observe Michifusa himself, not his natural habitat. Glancing around the room once more, she sighed and prepared to move on. The flickering of a shadow across the doorframe caught her eye and she froze, her breath catching nervously in her throat.
Sure enough, Michifusa stepped into the room, still wearing his khaki pants but mercifully freed of the ugly tweed jacket that Kagome had been beginning to suspect was welded onto his body. He was in the process of unbuttoning the cuffs of his long white shirt and he strode through the room purposefully. With a squeak of surprise, Kagome quickly ducked down and held her breath as he passed by her window, her heart pounding. After a few moments, she snuck a peek back into the room, and was relieved to find that Michifusa hadn't seemed to notice his voyeur. His glasses were gone, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a large, squat glass of what she guessed was some kind of alcoholic drink was held in one hand. With a sigh, he flopped down onto the sofa and picked up the newspaper, unfolding it as he sipped the drink.
Kagome blinked and watched him carefully. Look for any signs out of the ordinary, Kagome! He's relaxing now, his guard's down! She peered at his face, trying to make out the colour of his eyes. It was no good; he was sitting too far away for her to tell. She moved to his ears, looking for any suspicious points that might have poked through his black hair, but they were normally rounded. She tried his fingers, next, looking for tell-tale signs of claws. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, however; in fact, he looked like the epitome of a normal mature bachelor, enjoying a nightly glass of brandy and his favourite newspaper. The scene was so unremarkably domestic that Kagome found herself almost disappointed. Almost. She noted with some wry amusement that a relaxed Michifusa still held himself more stiffly than an honour guard on full dress duty.
After another five minutes of scrutiny, Kagome began to get bored. Michifusa hardly moved, occasionally flipping a page in the paper or reaching for his glass, which he had placed on the small stand next to the couch.
When about fifteen more minutes of less-than-intense scrutiny had passed, Kagome concluded that Michifusa was reading every single byline, footnote and advertisement that was printed on each page of his paper. It seems like something that would be just anal retentive enough for him to do, she concluded with frustration.
Roughly an hour later, Kagome was still bored, uncomfortably damp from the sweat beading on her neck and under her armpits, and her legs were beginning to hurt from remaining stiff and motionless for so long. She had been making up small games to keep herself amused as she watched Michifusa read. Unfortunately the room was so empty that playing a mental game of "I spy" with herself was over almost before it had begun. She was also beginning to note with some resentment that the man really knew how to nurse his drink. The urge to storm through the window and into the room, pinch his nose shut and pour the remainder of the damned liquid down his throat was getting stronger with each minute that passed, spiking slightly each time he lazily fingered the glass.
This is pointless, she thought to herself, wincing as she shifted positions slightly and felt her knees popping. Blowing her bangs out of her eyes, she forced herself to look back inside the room. Nothing had changed, so she focused on the cuff of his pant leg. Her attention lasted for all of about ten seconds, and her eyes slowly drifted to the sleeve of the white shirt that she could see sticking out from the edge of the newspaper. Stiff and starchy, I bet that itches, she thought with a small measure of smug satisfaction. It made her feel a little better to pretend that Michifusa might be as uncomfortable as she felt. Growing bored quickly, she lifted her eyes to his face as he shifted and lowered the paper slightly. I wonder where he got that hook nose from, Kagome thought to herself as she studied his features. It was a mildly unusual for a Japanese man to have such a large nose; then again, he was also incredibly tall, even for a westerner. Maybe one of his parents was a foreigner. She winced at the logic; if that was true, it would mean that Michifusa really wasn't a demon at all.
Her mind ground to a halt as she stared at his face, realization suddenly rearing up and smacking her in the face. How could I be so stupid not to notice it before? she berated herself, her eyes flickering over his face. Michifusa was still intently reading his paper, even flipping a page and blinking slowly as she watched. That was the crux of it; he was reading without the aid of his bulky, bottle-thick glasses.
So he just wears those ugly things to intimidate his students? she thought to herself with confusion. But they look so stupid! She took in his features once again and with a start, realized that he wasn't all that bad looking without the heavy glasses. Sure, he could do with a new hair stylist, and in her opinion he definitely needed a fashion consultant, but the more Kagome watched him, the more she realized it was true. He's not bad looking at all! Wow, if he'd just try a little, he could be pretty handsome… for a forty-eight-year-old, she reminded herself, wrinkling her nose.
Lowering herself slowly from the window, Kagome settled herself on the damp ground and mulled over the latest mystery surrounding her history teacher. I wonder what's up with that hokey Clark Kent disguise? she thought to herself. She considered his features, and then his obvious aversion to contact with students, and smiled slightly. Maybe he doesn't want anyone to notice that he's good looking, she thought to herself. Hah, gotcha! she crowed to herself, lifting herself up to the windowsill again.
It made more and more sense the more she thought about it; his yellow eyes, the loss of his temper, his good looks and his questionable age; he really must be a demon, she thought, narrowing her eyes. If that was true, she wondered why he hadn't noticed her presence yet. I've probably failed just about every ninja test possible for a stakeout, she thought with a grimace.
As if on cue, Michifusa abruptly folded up the paper and tossed it lazily onto the table. He stood, and Kagome's mind froze like a deer caught in headlights. Oh no, here it comes, she thought with a note of panic. Now he'll come over to the window and look at me, and then it'll be all over… my chance for a career and my reputation! She began to hyperventilate slightly, her brain cooking up several varied and colourful worse-case scenarios of being discovered.
Instead, Michifusa only stretched lazily and reached for the glass that had been torturing her all night. Tossing his head back, he drained it completely and then strolled towards the door. Kagome watched in fascination as he stopped, regarding the bright, tacky calendar that she had noticed hanging on the wall earlier. He stood still for a moment, as if he was reading something written there, and then turned away, his normally impassive face dropping into an ugly scowl. Kagome watched him leave the room and then blinked, turning her attention back to the bright picture.
I wonder what upset him? she thought, trying to see if there were any notes scribbled across the dates on the calendar. To her surprise it looked pristine and unmarked; then again, she was so far away she couldn't even make out the numbers on the thing. Squinting one last time, she gave up and studied the bright picture hovering over the dates. Hmm, she thought to herself, a new idea forming in the back of her mind. She carefully committed the image to memory before sneaking a glance at her watch. Her eyes widened and she nearly yelped, clapping her hand over her mouth just in time.
"Oh my gosh! It's so late, Mama's gonna kill me!" she whispered to herself as she gathered her things and scurried away from Michifusa's yard. She managed to return to the Sunset Shrine without incident, and didn't even notice the contemplative look that her mother gave her as she rushed to her room.
The very next day, as soon as Kagome was finished with her classes, she visited the largest bookstore she could find and made a beeline for their calendar section. After some careful searching, she finally found what she was looking for, recognizing the gaudy picture splayed across the back jacket as the same image she had seen in Michifusa's house. Turning the calendar around, she read the title out loud.
"Great Modernist Works, 1910-1945," she said, her brow furrowing. Flipping the calendar over once more, her eyes skimmed the small block of text on its back, searching for a clue as to what had caught Michifusa's interest. The style of the pictures certainly didn't seem to be in keeping with his tidy personal habits; bright, fragmented and almost violent, they were a direct contrast to his smooth and unflappable public image. She poured over the text more carefully, searching for any clues she could find.
"… Modernism presents a fragmented view of humanity, actively seeking to destroy established traditions while at the same time lamenting their loss." Her brow furrowed. The words created a sense of uneasiness in her that she couldn't shake off. Turning the calendar over once more, she flipped thorough the pages until she found the current month. Ignoring the huge photograph, she scanned over the dates printed inside instead. "Hey," she noted with surprise. "This thing marks the cycles of the moon!" Her fingers hovered over the pages and her breath caught in her throat. "The new moon is going to rise next weekend."
Something clicked, and Kagome flipped the calendar shut, replacing it onto the shelf with a small smile. "That must be it," she concluded. I'll find the answer to your secret on the night of the new moon, Michifusa! she promised, her eyes narrowing with anticipation.