Plain Normality

Measuring Insanity, Pt 2

Beep… Beep… Beep…

"Kagome Higurashi, no middle name."

Beep… Beep… Beep…

"Age; twenty one… Bullet wound to the shoulder. Main artery…"

It was so surreal. I remember the ride on the stretcher, and I remember feeling like I was sinking in cotton. I guess that's how stretchers were built like; to make people feel like they were riding on clouds— slightly rigid, flat clouds. Anyway, after that I think I was in the ambulance… I remember the sirens. There was another ambulance behind me. An IV tube… Drip, drip, drip… A slight sting and a consistent drip…

"Critical wound: Immediate surgery…"

A guy wearing a mask stood above me. I think. He was wearing a mask? I must be in a private hospital. Or maybe I had SARS or something. Bird flue, maybe? I wondered what was going on, and retraced my steps from this morning…

Miroku Nagano is, needless to say, a charismatic young man. Some call him a striking male specimen. Actually, almost everyone describes Miroku as a hormone driven sex god, and when I say almost everyone I mean all the girls he's ever dated and slept with…allegedly. I call him a flamboyant example of a boy without enough parental influence in his youth to curve his inevitable… interest/obsession with the opposite sex.

According to the system files, he was orphaned at age 6 when his father died of a sudden heart attack, following his deceased wife, who happened to die by hypothermia two years after giving birth to her only son. Both of their graves are located in sector 24-K03, row 16 in lot number 14. Miroku was raised by his godfather, name unrecorded, who raised him till he graduated high school and went onto NYU, New York University, with a full scholarship.

He majored in Journalism.

During his enrollment he was arrested twice. The first arrest was by mistaken identity (Miroku's three earrings were similar to a local gang symbol… allegedly). The second arrest is unrecorded. It was immediately expunged. All records of his graduation, internship, and hospitalization have been deleted since then, though fragments of documents have resurfaced. If one was to look hard enough.

Like the record of his short service in the military.

Miroku Nagano is, needless to say, a charismatic young man.

…and a zany pervert to boot.

It was around daybreak, before I had any breakfast…

"Curse you," I screeched, "ugly beast!"

"Now Kagome," Miroku casually propped his feet up on the mahogany desk, something he practiced when no one was looking. "That's quite an uncharacteristic response, my dear." As he clamped the black receiver between his shoulder and ear, he reached for his ball pen and started to jot a few notes down on his notepad.

"No," my voice was cut off by static.

"Kagome?" The scribbling stopped.

"A GOAT'S chasing me!"

There was a thud. I found out later that Miroku had fallen off his leather armchair, not out of shock, but because his office phone had suddenly blasted up to the maximum volume. Brushing himself off and casually turning down the volume, he sat back down as if nothing had happened, albeit the pen and notepad was on the floor, and pleasantly answered with a, "Is that so?"

"You OWE ME!" I screamed and dived behind a dumpster. "I can't believe THIS is the money shot!"

"I never said a goat was the—"

"That's not what I mean!"

"Would you," Miroku rolled his tongue and drawled out the question (I think he used to be the captain of his debate team), "care to explain how you found a goat?"

Oh, would I ever! "Can you do a simple equation?"

"Geometry or Calculus?"

"Exotic dancers plus a wild, wet bachelor party, you tell me."

"Do you have an example? Preferably in a photo?"

Click

"Ah CRUD!" I looked at my obsolete phone. "Lost Connection" my ass; if I was still in Japan I could've kept those highly overused yet extremely useful video phones.

Over the course of the year, my camera holster grew to the size of an overstuffed turkey on Thanksgiving. Screw stealth and speed—I needed technology and I needed the best I could get my grubby little hands on. However, my irresponsible spending was catching up to me. Picture little ole me huffing and puffing with a turkey slung over my shoulder while I tried to outrun a mad bloodthirsty carnivorous goat.

This was my life. One year passed in an instant, and before I knew where my inner youth went I was 21 years old. Twenty one. I was old. And I was now running away from a drool flinging goat bent on shredding my undies.

"Curse you Miroku," I panted and pocketed the spare film dirtied by my sweaty hands. "Curse you stupid zany – AGH!" I ran smack into the fence when I spared a wary glance over my shoulder. Not hesitating, I leapt with a mighty jump and grabbed the top of the fence. Thank lord they didn't line the top with barbed wire. Without wasting anymore time I climbed up with a furious grunt.

Then something sharp and jagged grazed my ankle. "STOP!" I screeched and desperately kicked. I'm against animal abuse and all that, but I wasn't going to let a mad goat bite my ankle off. "Bad doggy! Bad puppy! Bad kitty!"

RRRRRRRRIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPP

Crud.

That's how Nazuna found me. It must've been a sight, seeing one of her boss's employees walking in with one pant leg missing and the other torn in interesting patterns, leaving nothing to the imagination. Picking the leaves out of my hair, I cleared my throat and tried to look as professional as possible. Pretty pointless? You bet.

"So, Nazuna, are you checking packages again?"

I don't know what the secretary thought of me. I've worked with her for a year and I still can't figure out if she hates me, dislikes me, disregards me, or secretly resented me. For a year all she did was treat me like a child. Compared to my coworkers, she was a dear friend. (Sad, I know.) I was virtually invisible in the building.

"Yes," she sighed wearily. "The secretary's the bomb squad. If it's an explosive I'll be the only casualty."

"Well then I'll get you a mighty fine tombstone, Missy," I said with the best southern accent I could muster. People always find American southern accents comforting. Don't know why, but… eh.

Nazuna scoffed at my usual antics and pressed the second button on her intercom. "Miss Higurashi is here. I'll send her in."

"Thanks!" I grinned and painfully limped to Miroku's office. I lifted my chin. I had a few things to say to that zany pervert.

Over the year I grew to enjoy my work. I became better at hiding behind trees, garbage cans, bushes, park benches; whatever I could use. And I wasn't just an innocent face anymore. I knew how to use my wiles. My feminine wiles, that is.

I stood in front of Miroku's desk, glaring at the face happily betraying annoyance and, perhaps, amusement.

"My dear Kagome," he purred with an overly syrupy voice. "I think you're aware that there is a dress code in this building. And, dear lord, you look like you were mauled by dogs."

Twitch, twitch. "It was a goat, Mr. MI-RO-KU." I knew what he really meant.

For a year, I've been demanding to go after the Halfling – Inuyasha. Of course, he promised me the part on my first day, but he wasn't letting me start just yet. Nope, Miroku's been stringing me along for a year, telling me I needed to get better shots and still had room for improvement and all the typical excuses. Even though…

"I revealed two superhero identities! I unmasked two vigilantes before the papers OR the reporters! How many employees before I came managed that? Tell me Miroku, how many?"

He answered with an easy, "Nada."

"I caught superheroes in nightclubs, getting drunk in bars with unidentified girls, and even in alleyways soliciting with prostitutes!" I was screaming by the time I finished.

"I quite enjoyed the drag queen photo," Miroku's smile seemed to widen. "Very graphic, if I may say so."

"Never mind about that superhero's strange fetish," I sighed. "When am I getting the job?"

"The Halfling?" he lazily tapped his chin. "I thought I told you. You're not ready for the likes of him."

"Not ready? Not READY?" I seethed. "Didn't you just—"

"I'm not deaf. And I'm very much aware of your accomplishments. If I hadn't hired you, you would've never gotten the chance to perform so well. I gave you your position, do you not remember?"

"Yes, but it's been EXACTLY a year since I was hired! A YEAR!"

"Do you want a celebration?"

"Miroku!"

"If it weren't for my generosity, you'd still be jobless. And a failure too, yes?"

"…" Oh, he knew how to manipulate the situation. That's why he was the boss and I was the employee. Dang it…

"Now," he shuffled the papers on his desk, getting down to business. "I have a new assignment for you. Are you familiar with Sector 24K?"

In the world we live today, sectors made up each city in every country and included five suburban districts and a maximum of five rural fields. Guards protected every entrance and exit to the city and the military acted as Wardens to each sector.

"Sector 24K. Yeah, that's the sector with the prisons and penitentiaries, right?"

"Yes. There have been reports of illegitimate drug dealings inside one of the penitentiaries, and it's rumored that a crime lord is running one of the prisons. And just two hours ago, there was a massive prison riot involving a broken air conditioner."

I frowned. "So?"

"The riot resulted in a prison break. Perhaps the largest the sector has ever seen."

"So?"

"So I'm telling you to go and get those pictures."

"What?" my eyes bulged. "You want me to go see a prison break?"

"The prison break took place exactly half an hour ago. The military hasn't had time to conceal the incident yet. It's an hour drive, so I suggest you get going."

"Are you kidding me? You want me to go to an unrestricted zone?"

Miroku slowly nodded.

"And the prisoners? The military hasn't detained them yet?"

"Now honestly, what's the point of you going if the incident's already settled?"

"Are you crazy?" I gawked. "A woman can't go into a sector with criminals running loose! What if I get raped?"

He chuckled. "You'd castrate someone before that happens."

"But I specialize in scandals!"

"This prison break is a scandal. The tabloids can easily connect this to the crime ring or the drug lords. We'd make a bundle."

"I specialize in HERO scandals! And I'm still waiting for that Dog Shot!" (Dog Shot: Defined as the money shot capturing the Halfling in all his inevitable humiliation. Currently sought after by Kagome Higurashi.)

"I'll give you a raise… but if you really want to—"

"But today's money shot was the so-called ticket to my raise! Or did you forget?"

"If you had managed to get the pictures you would've produced them by now."

I consciously held my pocket. He had a point. All the pictures I had taken were blurred because I was either running for my life… or a certain pizza boy had stood in the way. And I mean in a very provocative shot… oh c'mon, you guys know about those pizza boy stories, right?

"Well," he started without so much as waiting for an answer, "you should get going. It's an hour's drive, didn't I tell you?"

Nazuna Sato was what you call a lost case.

People say Nazuna Sato lost her youth when her parents disappeared the day before her 10th birthday. But records show she had been fairly lethargic since her 5th birthday. Nazuna Sato was enrolled in a prestigious boarding school due to her artistic achievements. She had lost all connection from her family until the news of her parents' disappearance reached her. And even then she was apathetic to the situation; not because she disliked her family, but because they were strangers to her. Or so she explained to the school therapist.

She did not attend the funeral. (The caskets were empty.)

The files state that Nazuna Sato had first met Miroku Nagano in a downtown café, when the idea of starting a paparazzi business was but an illusion for both Nagano and Sato. However, incidentally, the two were also in the military at the same time. The records even say the two were discharged on the same day, down to the last second.

She had an incredible talent in the arts. Yet, in her senior year in high school, she chose to take the new Accounting class instead of Studio Arts. That would be the turning point in her life.

Nazuna Sato was what you call a lost case.

Okay, so if I remember correctly, I got to the sector feeling pretty cruddy because I was half an hour later due to three wrong turns and a bad confrontation with the Warden regarding my expired but renewed identification card, but other than that I was pretty well off. I got to the prison with my rental car, and I remembered seeing these huge, gigantic holes decorating one side of the gray building, and a couple of respectable news reporters already swarming the lot with their cameramen tagging behind them. There were police officers pointing and shoving people away like they still had control over the situation. I was already on my way out. There was no way I was going to challenge actual reporters. A paparazzo had nothing against reporters.

After that… let's see… I went to the mall and left my cameras and equipments behind… no, wait. I remember pocketing my spare film in my front pocket and my digital camera in my inner pocket. It was a tradition, or a ritual, I guess. That spare film stayed with me wherever I went, whether I was going to the mall or sneaking into a secret superhero bachelor pad; it was always in my pocket. The spare film, my first film, was going to symbolize my journey from that day on—my insanely long and ridiculously ludicrous journey, unfortunately.

Getting back to the storyline: Yeah, I remember what happened after that… I left my rental car in the parking lot, next to a black van (that should've been suspicious enough) and I locked my door.

"Oh dear…"

I looked up and saw a pitiful sight; a clumsy woman, a lady who looked like a soccer mom, who had dropped all her groceries on the sidewalk and was currently stumbling onto her hands and knees to grab the dirtied contents before anyone stepped on them. She was a petite woman of an obvious Asian descent thanks to her glowing black hair that reached her knee, if not her ankle. I couldn't be sure because she was crouched so low to the ground. I'm not sure what made me want to help; I was the type of person who usually avoided these small, inconvenient situations because of the numerous times I was turned away myself. Maybe it was the fact that I felt a special kinship, not because she looked like an Asian, but because she was a foreigner in this land. And perhaps her beauty hid her real age, masking the tired, weary soul that resembled my deceased inner youth…

…sorry, I was being a little poetic there. Anyhow, moving along…

After I quickly locked my car I slowly walked to the helpless woman, devising a clever plot in avoiding awkward dialogues. I was a concerned citizen, a Good Samaritan, but I didn't handle rejection pretty well. I mean, if she glared at me, scrunched her nose and told me off with a smug sneer, I might've lost it and kicked her in the face.

…right; maybe I was 21, but I wasn't exactly the nonviolent type.

So, formulating a plan to just go over and pick up the grocery without a word, I was feeling mighty knightly when a really, really, REALLY loud bang rang in the air. All at once people were either scattering away (a stupid act of desperation) or falling to the ground and holding the back of their heads (a smart reaction unless he or she was on the road…in the middle of traffic…).

I was none of them. When everyone else was running or hiding I stood my ground. Because I saw the Asian woman on the sidewalk suddenly clutch the side of her stomach. And it wasn't out of shock either. Even worse, I saw blood sort of squirt out from where the bullet went through… I mean, it was like the movies, except even more graphic. There was even a distinct mark in the sidewalk, where the bullet had wound up after going through its target.

Then I saw a red dot; a red dot as in a sniper's target, not a Hindu religion red dot thing. I saw the red target travel from the woman's bloody wound to her neck, and then to the back of her head. It stopped.

I didn't know what to think. I didn't understand why a sniper would target a soccer mom. It didn't make any sense. And the sniper was targeting her in the middle of the day, right in front of the mall. I was disgusted—and scared. But that kinship I shared with the woman… I don't know. I wanted to do something, not idly standby while someone was killing an innocent mother. And I knew I was the only one who had the choice to save her. Everyone else was too concentrated on his or her wellbeing right then.

So I jumped in front of her.

There was a bang and a sudden numbness in my shoulder… and then the feeling of falling. I went down on my knees. I felt like I was sleeping on pins and needles. Then the real pain came.

"UNNGGHHHHH!" I groaned and held my forearm. It was really bad, because, somehow, I felt the bullet. It had stopped inside my shoulder, and I felt it move inside my flesh. It was really bad. Why couldn't it have just gone through me like the first bullet did through the other woman? Then again, if the bullet in my shoulder had done that, it would've made it to the intended target, the woman behind me. I looked behind to the said woman.

Surprisingly, she had a calm, sad look on her face, which was covered in my blood, I think (or maybe blood was covering my eyes). I saw her open her mouth. I don't know what she said, because my ears were still ringing, but I think she was mouthing something along the lines of, "You shouldn't have done that."

Everything after that, as you all know, was rather fuzzy.

The Hanyou, or the Halfling, is the offspring of an "unconventional" love.

Inuyasha Shikigawa. An odd name, because it basically spells out to "Dog Demon" and "River of Four Seasons." Shikigawa Inuyasha, the Japanese way of saying his name: River of Four Seasons, Dog Demon… the Dog Demon of the River of Four Seasons. I'd think he was some mystical, mythical god—if I didn't already know the harsh and perverted rumors that surrounded him.

The files state that Inuyasha Shikigawa was born out of wedlock, when his father, forename only recorded as Toga and ranked only as the Inu no Taisho (General of the Dogs, literally), met Inuyasha's mother, who was back then a nurse in the Kyoto University Hospital. Inu no Taisho, or his notably incorrect yet more recognizable name, Inutaisho, was and still is, "The demon of demons" or so his followers call him. The destroyer of cities and towns, the ravager of souls and minds, he had the power to wipe out a quarter, perhaps even half of humanity. Yet he never did.

Because he met Izayoi Shikigawa. Despite their obvious, more-than-racial differences, they're love blossomed. Inutaisho had been hospitalized due to a grave injury by a rival super-villain, a dragon demon from the mainland, and somehow he was admitted and hospitalized in the Kyoto University Hospital. How the paperwork ever got him into any HUMAN hospital is a mystery, as the records were immediately destroyed due to an accidental computer crash. Izayoi Shikigawa was his personal nurse, because she had a gift.

She had the gift of premonition. And it wasn't one of those vague, flashes of visions and short tingles of spider-like senses. They were full blown films that played across her eyes, controlled and mastered by Izayoi after years of practicing. At will she could see her and others future. Due to this, however, she had grown lethargic of her future. Her life was dull, uneventful. So she swore off using her powers… unless her service was ever needed by any superheroes. Thanks to her gift, her superiors thought she could handle nursing the demon villain they called Inutaisho.

Izayoi Shikigawa was quite a looker. And quite an obedient daughter. When she first met Inutaisho she was already promised to the son of a billionaire businessman. She was constantly solicited by superheroes visiting her during her work hours, and she was recorded to have made several harassment charges against three to four men, villains and heroes alike… per month. Her father did not help. He, after all, pushed her into her nursing job, a respectable position for a woman in Japan.

In the database, the files claim that Inutaisho had been admitted to the exact same hospital room seven times more after the first stay in a span of three months. And Izayoi was his nurse every time. It wasn't love at first sight. It wasn't a short fling either. And I don't think Inutaisho had been ambushed by a pack of bloodthirsty demons seven times in a row. You all know what I mean: It was a relationship that started with instant infatuation and rose to full blown passion. Everything after that, if you continued down the lines, was rather vague and… suspicious. The records claimed that they lived happily ever after…

But what about the man Izayoi had been promised to by her father? What about Inutaisho's past? What about his marital status? Didn't he already have a family? And how could a superhero and a super-villain live a happy life without getting caught in some kind of snag?

All I'm saying is…

Everyone, ignoring all the records and files listed on the database, has some sort of shifty pasts. You can't trust random paperwork if you want to be an investigative journalist.

Or a paparazzo.

I sort of woke up from my daze in a really cruddy mood. For one thing, my shoulder felt like dead weight. I didn't know where I was, and I realized I was dressed in this really uncomfortable paper-like material. It crinkled when I shifted on my cardboard like bed, and I feared many, many paper cuts. The room was white, but somewhat creamy in a way that reminded me of sugar cookies and not asylums or hospitals. The rockets and flowers on the wallpapers helped, but it sort of made me feel like a naïve little kid. There was a pretty obsolete computer next to my bed, making beeps in sync with my heartbeats. Those beeps annoyed me.

Plus there were these white hairs hanging over my face and tickling my nose…

Wait… what?

"Perhaps a mistake."

"But you heard her… she wasn't in the vision."

I didn't dare look. I sort of squinted and pretended to stay asleep. The hurried whispers were rushed and mumbled, as if the conversation was taboo, but I was close enough to hear the whole thing.

"Maybe a trick…"

"No spells' strong enough to interfere…the girl was unexpected. The sniper didn't expect it when he fired the second shot."

"Mind control?"

"No, highly unlikely…"

I saw who was speaking. I had to open my eyes not because the said man had backed up and his butt was suddenly taking up half my view, yeah that was a little annoying, but because I recognized the voice. White hair, rough voice… my eyes widened then. DOG EARS!

"OH MY LORD!"

I must've taken both men by surprise; because when I sat up I saw Inuyasha whirl around with a crazy look on his face, ready for a sneak attack or a Ninja assassin or something, and the scientist/doctor standing behind him sort of threw his clipboard in front of his face, letting out a really girly shriek with an exclamation of "I have glasses on!"

The moments that followed were perhaps the most awkward silence mankind has ever known.

The scientist/doctor was the first to speak.

"Y-you weren't supposed to wake up till Friday!"

I frowned, confused. But wasn't today Friday? Maybe I've been unconscious for a while. If this was a new week, then, "What day is it?"

Inuyasha, still a bit frazzled thanks to me and my outburst, tried to look hip and hop and coolie cool and pimped up and such and such (sorry for trying to make him sound as nerdy as possible), and held his head high. "It's Tuesday."

Whoa.

"No, don't answer her," the scientist/doctor cut in sharply, though somewhat a little late. "We haven't been given clearance! We can't speak to her until after interrogation."

"Interrogation?" I said, feeling like someone was pointing an accusing finger at me. "What, am I being arrested?"

"N—I mean—Y—Stop asking questions!" The scientist/doctor held his wrinkled forehead, messing up his hair. He must've had migraines, because he, while grumbling incoherently, walked over to a nearby counter and pulled out some sort of prescribed medications from his white lab coat… or his white dress. I couldn't tell.

While he was pouring water for himself, I tried to remain calm; which was an easy thing to say when I was in the presence of someone I had detested for a year without an actual, proper meeting. Inuyasha. I needed to think things over while I ignored the Halfling. Let's see—I was in some private hospital room with a superhero and a guy I couldn't label because I didn't know whether he was my doctor or a mad scientist (not good). I was dressed in a weird paper-like dress and I didn't know where my car keys were. If I had been here for five days, was my car still in the parking lot in front of the mall? What about my clothes? What about…

My camera!

"What happened to my trench coat?" I asked. I figured it was better not to mention my camera in front of a superhero. I knew how much they disliked photos.

"All your personal belongings have been confiscated. That's all you need to know." Inuyasha, that mutt, answered. He gave a challenging glare when the scientist/doctor whirled around from the counter, probably planning on berating the superhero again, before the door to the room open. Actually, the door sort of slid open with a single mechanical click, like in those sci-fi shows where the futuristic spaceships have those sliding doors, sort of like those Asian screen doors except the futuristic ones open for you because you're too lazy to open it yourself. To put it simply, it was like the doors in front of grocery stores, except much cooler.

Behind the door was the soccer mom! (Please insert that dramatic music in soap operas when the main heroin tells her dad's best bud's sister's boyfriend that she's pregnant with his baby.) Dun, dun, DUN!

"So," the woman said with the softest voice I had ever heard, "you're all getting acquainted, I presume?"

"Mistress!" The scientist/doctor dude cried, straightened up and dropped what he was doing—no really, he dropped his cup of water and migraine pills on the floor—then sort of half saluted, half bowed and went so low he looked like he was going to get on his knees. The Halfling was, sadly, more dignified than the bumbling doc and stood his ground. I sat on my clean white bed and sheets and opted to stay quiet and look pretty.

"Please don't," she said with an almost dismissive look on her porcelain face. "I prefer you don't kowtow." I noticed then that she was inconspicuously caressing her side, where the bullet went through if I remembered right.

"Of course not Miss—MY LIEGE!" The SD dude (I got sick of calling him scientist/doctor) practically crumpled to the floor and planted his palms and face on the floor like a desperate housewife. No pun intended… or was there a pun?

The reason the SD dude suddenly fell became obvious when I looked behind the soccer mom. Outside the door stood the most magnificent figure I had ever seen. Words could not describe him. He was like the sun: His body emitted this warm sensation that radiated in the room, and I felt like I had to squint if I wanted to take a good long look at him. He wasn't ugly either.

Speaking of the sun… was it getting hot in here?

"She's awoken," he said incredulously. His voice seemed to echo in the room, as if he had the power to speak to the mountains. Whatever that means…

The soccer mom smiled. "I did not foresee this, so it was to be expected. Tell me," She tried to come to the side of my bed with a slight limp in her otherwise soft steps. However, she lost her strength halfway and nearly collapsed had it not been for Inuyasha. That gentleman of a BLEEP (oops, excuse my language) shot to her rescue and held her shoulders to help steady herself.

"Mother, you shouldn't have gotten out of bed." His voice was of the utmost concern.

My heart somewhat softened on the spot. Aw, he's a mommy's boy… how cute!

…wait.

Hold on.

…MOTHER?

I watched Inuyasha help the woman sit down on a tall stool as the man outside the room watched with an unreadable face, refusing to step into the room. The SD dude, meanwhile, stayed on the floor with his humble kowtow. The room was getting really, really hot.

I did the math. I saved a lady. Lady's apparently famous. Her son's a superhero. The superhero has legendary superhero mummy and super villain daddy. In conclusion: I had unwittingly, unknowingly, and blunderingly saved… Inuyasha's MOM?

…man, the room's really hot.

"Now," the woman spoke as if nothing had happened. "Could I ask you a question?" She was looking at me. She was asking me a question. Izayoi, the seer, was asking me, the paparazzo, something.

My mouth squeezed shut. The room was too hot. The eyes… Inuyasha's eyes were too bright. Izayoi's eyes were too warm. And outside the door… there stood Inuyasha's daddy. Mommy and daddy dearest…

"I…" I managed to say before a nauseating pain sprung from the back of my neck. My head felt like it had just exploded. So I laid back and promptly decided to faint.

Before I was completely out of it, though, I thought to myself: Gosh, I hope I don't drool in front of them.