A/N: I want to thank you guys for sticking to this story, seriously. My irregular updating pattern is gross and everything, but that's OK. I hope to not disappoint or anything! Oh yeah, and another thing: I made it past fifty reviews! I'm really proud of that, because this is one of the better stories I've done, so I feel like it's a big accomplishment or something. :D HEARTS to the following: ya1ya, kimika the fluff lover, animekitty07, kachan, Kourtney, and Christykay.

Disclaimer: :(


Chapter 17: Second Base

Nghi


"Did you see the way she hit that baseball out of the field?" Yuka demanded, waving her arms around, and Eri giggled. "I swear to you, the entire audience went quiet when they saw the ball soar out of the field for the sixth time.It was awesome, and honestly, you should have been there to see it all."

"Oh, stop it," Kagome protested, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips anyways. "It's so like you to exaggerate events." She turned to Eri, who was looking at the two amusedly. "Ignore her. She's just being silly."

Yuka squeaked indignantly. "Miss Higurashi, I don't tell anything but the truth, and you know that. Besides, the crowd really did go quiet when you single-handedly won for the team."

"You're forgetting that the rest of the team scored the other thirty-three points."

"Whatever. You scored the most, all right?" Yuka looked at her with a smug grin, daring Kagome to just try and contradict what she had said. Not that she wanted to be arrogant, but her friend did have a point….

Still, it made Kagome a little uneasy how Yuka could say something like that so flippantly. She was particularly infamous for making or breaking other students in the school population, especially since she led the gossip mill and the whole nine yards. She was the one, after all, who spread the news of Kagome and Hojo as an "official" item… and by herself, too! Yuka was influential, and Kagome could just imagine the hell she would be getting if a few boastful remarks from her friend (Admittedly stemming from good intentions.) reached the ears on the team.

Oh boy.

The only problem now was how to tell Yuka all of this without hurting her feelings. She was quite the dramatic—actually, she was the only dramatic one, and Kagome thought it was slightly ostentatious. But friends had flaws, and it wasn't like she was perfect, either. Far from it. For instance, she wasn't about to go and tell them that she had gotten into another fight with Ayumi on the same night as the baseball game, and she wasn't about to go and tell them that Yamaguchi had wanted to come over and properly eat with the family, and she wasn't about to go and tell them that she had taken her frustration out in the game. Kagome was far from weak, but it wasn't like she could hit consecutive home runs on a daily basis, like Saturday's competition.

But no one knew that. They just thought she had crazy skills, and the coach had enveloped her into a bear hug afterwards, when the team had won, and she had demanded to know why this "sudden power" hadn't come out sooner. "I'm going to harness this talent of yours," she had announced fiercely, almost comically, before beaming a thousand watt smile down at her, like she was his top-secret weapon. "You never give up, Higurashi, do you?"

She didn't know how close "Higurashi" had been to doing the exact opposite. If Kagome had to be honest with herself, the only thing that had dragged her out of the bedroom was Inuyasha's invective rewinding over and over inside her head since last Wednesday. She had half a mind to bet that he had kicked her out of the field because she reminded him of himself. (She scoffed.) But still, his inveighing against her was somewhat needed for, and somehow it looked like she had needed that rough slap to the face. It was, essentially, a douse of violently cold water, as Inuyasha had pulled her back to reality with his 'fuck's and 'get out's.

So Kagome had gotten out of bed and threw on her uniform, and here she was, basking in the winning afterglow. But she couldn't fully enjoy it, not when she knew that her jerk of a neighbor had had some indirect power on Saturday's game. Of course, she might have been overanalyzing it, and she might have been giving him more credit than necessary, but a bigger part in her head didn't think so.

"Hey," Yuka nudged her friend, a frown marring her face. "You listening?" She had always been pretty, and Kagome was slightly envious of the way Yuka was able to look sad and well composed at the same time. Meanwhile, on the other hand, Kagome was just a mess when she started crying. I'm sure Inuyasha could attest to that, she thought dryly.

Her lack of answer brought Eri into the mix as well. "Are you OK?" she asked worriedly, touching Kagome's elbow lightly. It was so nice to be cared for by your friends, wasn't it?

Kagome shook her head, smiling again. "No, no, I'm fine, you guys. I was just thinking about—you know, the home runs and stuff." It was too complicated to rehash it all out again. One time was enough, and she had no plans to rear that ugly head again.

Yuka crowed happily, clapping her hands like a little child. "I knew you'd turn around. See, see? Even she admits it was a pretty damn good game! You should've been there!"

Eri groaned and shook her head. "Stop babbling already. I get it, I should have seen Kagome's game, OK? But tell me, would going to the competition have helped my schoolwork situation in any way?"

Yuka was quiet for a moment, contemplating and mulling over the question silently before she came to a conclusion and shook her head. "No, it wouldn't have," she conceded enthusiastically. "But you would've had a good time, though!"

"See, Kagome, this is what separates us from her—ah!" Eri squealed and pulled back from a slap, and Yuka 'hmmph'-ed, satisfied.

"Serves you right for insulting me. At least I support my friends, you bookworm!"

Kagome laughed, watching as her friends embroil into a petty argument about who was more loyal and dedicated. It was a stupid quarrel, but it never failed to entertain. She wasn't able to tell them the issues that hurt her the most, but at least they distracted her for a while.

And that was good enough.

-

"Hojo's coming in three minutes," Ayumi whispered in her ear as they filed out of the classroom. "So just wait outside."

Before she could say anything or register the information, her friend had disappeared into the crowd of departing students, and Kagome had no choice but to follow the order, albeit reluctantly. She had to leave for baseball practice, and not to mention the amount of homework the teachers had decided to give. Their excuse? To help the students prepare for the finals.

And college entrance exams! Oh gosh, she was dying on the inside from all the pressure and stress, and the prep school she had been going to wasn't making the workload any easier. Kagome had plans to leave Osaka and Japan in general, but it would only be temporary. She had decided a long time ago that she would enter a university that allowed a student exchange of sorts; that way, she would be able to travel abroad and, hopefully, learn different ways to play baseball. Maybe in America they threw a curveball differently, more effectively. Or perhaps in France the batting technique guaranteed a hit each time. Whatever it was, Kagome wanted out of Japan and into the world—she would learn more that way.

And then she had found her dream school. It was in Tokyo, more than a two-hour commute away, and even though it wasn't the prestigious Todai University that everyone had been secretly dying to go to, it was still a good school, nonetheless, that sent its fair share of rejection letters. And after a bit of research, Kagome had discovered that it had a decent exchange program… a very decent one. It was love at first sight, and now she was here, slaving away at her grades and hoping to God that it was good enough to make the cut.

It was a quarter past three now, and the students had trickled down to a few loitering around the hallways. Where was he? She had to go in a few minutes, and the coach wouldn't be pleased if she was late; the lady had seemed awfully determined to transform Kagome into an aggressive, baseball-hitting power machine on Saturday….

"Higurashi-san!" a voice greeted cheerfully behind her, and she turned around, a little startled. "I'm so glad you were able to get my message." Hojo grinned happily, and it was like his face had split into two. He's that happy?

"Ayumi told me right after class."

He looked relieved. "That's good! You were always the first to leave, so I wasn't sure if you would wait for me."

"What are you talking about? Of course I'd wait. I'd do anything for you," Kagome added after a moment, nudging his ribs softly, and she almost laughed out loud when he turned a funny shade of red. She had meant it to be a joke, but somehow it had a different connotation to his ears. That was the best thing about him; he was just so easy to poke fun of. Not that she had a mean streak or anything, but that was how Hojo was, and she found it terribly amusing when he was embarrassed about silly, trivial things.

He was such a gentleman.

"I know you've been really busy lately," he began, easily falling into step as she started down the hallway. Maybe she could save time by talking and walking. "And I know I haven't been the best boyfriend around."

Kagome almost tripped. What was he talking about? "Oh no, don't say that," she started, shaking her head. "You've given me so much already, more than I could ask for." Literally.

Hojo put up a hand to stop her. "No, I haven't. You're under a lot of stress right now, and it's noticeable, the way you try to stay awake during Japanese literature." He frowned, looking terribly guilty. "Do you know how bad it is for your back to remain hunched like that?"

Unbelievable. It was almost endearing the way he fussed over her, if she hadn't had to deal with it for a full-fledged two months. Kagome liked Hojo, she really did; the way he cared for her was so wonderful, and she doubted there would be any other guy like him, who expresses his affections with such unlimited kindness and the-thought-that-counts gifts. And not to mention he wasn't bad to look at, either. He was boyish, he was tall, he was family-oriented… he was the archetype of a good boyfriend.

But she couldn't help but feel like Hojo possessed an annoying degree of persistence. Resolve was one thing to have, but to take it to a level like he did…. There was no way Kagome was suggesting that he was a stalker or anything, because truthfully, he would have been bad at it. He was too nice, the sort of guy who respected a girl's privacy too much to steal a pair of her underwear. But he was very adamant in lavishing her with attention, attention, and more attention.

To put it simply: Hojo lived for her.

In a way, it reminded Kagome of Ayumi, before the whole shit-hits-the-fan debacle. Actually, it seems like Hojo's more of a mother figure than Ayumi herself. Nasty thought, but she couldn't help feeling like that, either. It also didn't help that Ayumi wasn't trying very hard nowadays, although they had managed to poorly mend together their family on Friday.

Better than nothing, right?

"—So I was hoping you would accept these," Hojo was saying, and she snapped back to attention just as he produced a small vial from his pocket.

"What's that?"

"Sleeping pills," he answered with a small hint of pride. "I told my father about your conditions—"

"Wait, I never mentioned anything about conditions."

"No, you didn't, but if someone really cares for you, he wouldn't wait until you say something." Kagome didn't miss the substituted 'he'. "So I told my father about you, and he said that it was most likely because you were under so much pressure."

"Well, yeah…." Wasn't it natural, though? From school and colleges and baseball scouts, she had her work cut out for her. Family problems were just another side dish that she was trying to work out, too. "I guess I haven't been sleeping as much as I'd like to."

Hojo beamed and pressed the capsule into her hands. "I knew it, so I had my dad filled out a small dose of sleeping pills for you. Just a little, so you won't hurt yourself." He wasn't letting go of her hands—he was squeezing it gently instead. "Make sure you follow the directions carefully, because you might accidentally overdose, OK?"

Kagome could only nod. Endearing indeed.

"That's great. You know, I'm glad you're finally opening up to me."

Like I said, nothing I haven't hea—wait, what? "What do you mean by that?" Yes, what was that sentence all about exactly?

Hojo flushed brilliantly, seeing that the apparent compliment hadn't gone over well. "I'm so sorry, Higurashi-san. I didn't mean for—"

It was her turn to put up a hand now. "No, no, it's fine. I'm not hurt or anything." She waited until he was slightly mollified before continuing. "I just want to know why you said it."

They were out of the school building now and walking along the black, chain-linked fence bordering the baseball field. She saw a few of the team members waving at her, and Kagome nodded in reply. It was almost time for practice, and she turned back to Hojo expectantly, wishing for once that he would stop being so wishy-washy about his feelings and just tell her how he felt. "Well?" she prodded, stopping in front of the entrance.

"Please don't feel offended, Higu—"

"I won't," she interrupted confidently. "So just go ahead and say it, all right?"

He looked unsure, and Kagome rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Hojo, I promise I'm not going to cry." I already did that last week. "So please just tell me how you feel, because I have to go in a few minutes."

"All right. I think, Higurashi-san, that our relationship for the past two months was more about… well, getting you to feel comfortable around me," Hojo said slowly, and he was the color of a ripened tomato by now. "And… I just thought that you finally telling me something about your home—it means a lot, knowing that you are finally beginning to accept me." He looked away, embarrassed.

….

He—? Kagome blinked once at him, then twice, and then a third time, and Hojo must have thought she was disgusted or tremendously hurt or something equally negative, because he automatically launched into an apologetic spiel. "Oh, Higurashi-san, I didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. Please don't think of it that way, because I wouldn't intentionally hurt you. I was only trying my best to look out for—"

He stopped talking when she pulled him into a hug. Not an acquaintance type of hug, but the real kind, the one where she could hear his faint heartbeat and smell his freshly-laundered clothes and feel the soft, black hair through her fingers. He was exactly how she imagined. For all it was worth, Hojo was a very good person to hug. (She also knew that any verbal form of pacification would fall on deaf ears, and hence partly the reason why they were in an impromptu embrace.)

By the time Kagome pulled back, the poor boy looked ready to faint. "Thank you," she said softly, not knowing if it answered anything or if it was the right thing to say. But she felt inclined to do so, because—because… maybe it was the fact that he was the first person to show genuine concern, a boy who willingly offered his shoulder for her to lean on. He wasn't as oblivious as she made him out to be, if he could read her feelings better than her friends could. Hojo annoyed her, and he distracted her, and he was there for her. He was a bit of bad and good, but most of all, he respected her enough to wait patiently. He wanted her to be ready before anything happened, and that little thought—the want for her to be sure, made her breath hitch and swallowing difficult. When was the last time she had felt confident about something? "Thank you," she repeated sincerely before moving to cross the field. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

He was such a gentleman.

Kagome had barely walked ten paces when Hojo's voice called to her back. "Higurashi-san!" She stopped and turned her head.

His face was still a cherry red, but his knuckles were white from gripping the chained fence. "This—This Friday, my brother is coming back home, and my parents want to celebrate…." He trailed off, already beginning to lose his nerve. Some would find that pathetic, and Kagome would have usually made an excuse to weasel her way out. She often used baseball practice as the main reason, actually.

But it took one look at his hopeful face, and Kagome couldn't say no. At least, not today. So she nodded, a little smile flitting across her features, before turning around.

-

He watched them from a distance, near the entrance to the gym, and observed the whole "tender, loving" view or something. Whatever. It was like a scene right out of one of those sappy movies that Kaoru tended to rent nearly every time they went to the video store. He guessed it was her way of making up for his dad's lack of romantic nature as of late. The next time he was going to a temple, he was going to pray to the gods that InuTaisho would come back home and satisfy Kaoru's sentimental needs. That way, he wouldn't have to sit through another one of those god-awful tearjerkers.

Kaoru gets some affection, he gets peace and quiet—they all win in the end. See?

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. What the fuck? Those two are so fucked up. Who was wearing the pants exactly here? Who was the dominant one, the one in charge and everything? Well, from the look of things, it sure as hell wasn't Hojo, because that boy was blushing. Fucking blushing! "Grow some balls," he muttered underneath his breath. It was such an embarrassment to call Kagome's idiot of a boyfriend a part of the male, human species.

The sad part was that Kagome seemed to be eating it all up. At least today, anyways. He shook his head; even though she was a banshee with mood problems worse than a bipolar schizophrenic, he had always thought she was sort of clever. Not smart, from the way her transcript looked, but clever in the sense that she knew what she was doing most of the time. What happened? What could have forced Kagome to run to this—this thing that resembled a man?

Exactly. He didn't know, either. Inuyasha just knew that while Kagome was renowned for making stupid decisions, she had definitely crossed the line when she chose this wimp for a boyfriend.

It wasn't like he was starting to feel something for her. Inuyasha pursed his lips, racking his brain for the right words. It wasn't jealousy, but it couldn't have also been complete indifference, if he had to squash the mild desire to cross the lawn and sucker punch the boy in the face. Not that he would go and do it; Hojo was pretty good for a shortstop on the team, and he didn't think Miroku would appreciate it if Mr. Feelings appeared at practice with a broken nose.

No, it wasn't jealousy. He could tell it wasn't, because he didn't feel like walking up to Kagome, yanking her away from Hojo, and screaming at the top of his lungs, "Mine! Mine! Mine!" That was envy, and the only time Inuyasha had ever felt or acted in that way was when Sesshoumaru had received an autographed baseball from an American team for Christmas.

So logically, if he didn't act towards Kagome the way he acted towards that baseball, it couldn't have been jealousy. No, it was more like… wariness. That didn't seem to fit, either, but it was the best he could come up with, so he stuck with it. Wariness, because if Hojo somehow ended up breaking her heart, Inuyasha would be forced to pick up the pieces and send her down the path with duct tape and some cheery advice. And the only reason why he would even consider doing that was because she would most likely come sniveling into his baseball field (It was still his, dammit!) and ruining his concentration like last time.

Inuyasha felt a small tug at the bottom of his stomach. He didn't like seeing her cry… he didn't like seeing any girl cry. It was too emotional for him to handle, and if that was called stunted emotional development, then so be it. He'd rather have an abnormality that made him impervious to tears rather than being a basket filled with feelings to the brim. Wimp.

He was the antithesis of Hojo, wasn't he?

He watched as the boy stopped Kagome and tripped over his words, and then he watched as she nodded slightly, a small smile on her face. The hell? Do girls like it when guys look like spineless jellyfish with the inability to form correct sentences? He scratched his chin, watching as she made her way to the team, where all the girls promptly began to giggle and wink rather conspicuously. They were a gaggle of idiots, and they acted even more idiotic when something big happened. At least he could deduce that much.

"Someone jealous?" a teasing voice said beside him, and Inuyasha didn't even have to move to know who it was.

"You're going to be shitting blood all day," he replied smoothly, as if he had been practicing the line all weekend. He had.

Miroku shrugged off the threat and shuffled a few steps ahead of him. "I wonder what happened between Kagome-san and Hojo." He looked back, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Don't you?"

Inuyasha only glowered. "Actually, I don't," he said with an irritated smile. "I'm more interested in something else."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Like using your head for a punching bag." It would be a really nice idea, actually, and not to mention a rather creative one, too. Inuyasha hadn't minded arts and crafts when he was younger, so maybe he could string the bastard upside down and hang him from the ceiling….

Miroku had the decency to look surprised. "Why would you do that? I only come bearing the intention of trying to figure out wha—"

"Oh shut the fuck up," he snapped, looking extremely put out. "You led me to the wrong place on Saturday, you sonofabitch." Miroku blinked. "The party at that something-guchi guy's place?"

Inuyasha reveled as recognition dawned on the idiot. "Oh, you mean—oh."

"Don't 'oh' me." He stepped away from the wall and took an started to advance towards the captain instead. "You're going to be a fucking hen after this…."

"Now wait a minute, it wasn't my fault my cell phone died," Miroku insisted in a conciliatory manner. "Don't you think I would have called you back or something?"

"Why didn't you use the home phone?"

"Oh yeah, because I memorized your phone number," he bit back, and it was the first time Inuyasha heard Miroku use a sarcastic tone. So it would have been kind of creepy if the captain did know his cell phone by heart, but he wasn't willing to let the idiot off, not when he had to—

"Yeah? Well, your retarded directions led me to some weird town, and I ended up picking litter from the ground for the rest of the fucking night," he all but spat, and Inuyasha felt slightly better when the captain furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. I hope you feel guilty, you bastard.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because some bitch decided that it was my fault I tripped over her stupid trash can," Inuyasha replied huffily, and the anger started to direct elsewhere. Goddamn, he couldn't stay mad long, could he?

Miroku was very intrigued now. "Who was the lady? Do you know her?"

He shook his head, a little sneer forming. "Her name was Kikyo, and she ran some weird antique shop." It looked like one, anyways, from all the vases he saw in the front window. "Fucking rude as hell."

Miroku didn't get a chance to interrogate any further, because the lead coach called him suddenly. "All right, I'll see you later. And I'm really sorry, by the way, for my 'retarded' directions leading you to meet a shrew like her."

"Who said anything about her being a shrew? Don't they have to be smart first?"

He laughed, his voice already beginning to fade out. "She must be pretty clever, then, if she could get you to pick up her trash without lifting a finger." By the time Inuyasha turned around to retort angrily, he was already halfway across the gymnasium. No wonder he was the captain of the baseball team.

He's still a bastard though.

-