Hello, dear readers. I'm back for a little update. My poor grandmother passed away, and I just lost the will to write for a while. I'm trying to get my mojo back. Perhaps a new chapter will help... We shall see.

Guilty Hero: Prequel One-Shots

The Intervention

Briiiiiiiiiiiing!

The harsh clanging of the telephone shattered the silence of the apartment. Anyone would have started in surprise at the sound.

Anyone who was conscious, that is.

There was a single occupant in the room, but he was dead to the world. His prone body was stretched out across the threshold between the kitchen and the living room. Near his head, a broken bottle lay in a pool of whiskey.

Briiiiiiiiiiiing!

Again, the ring of the phone bounced around the room. This time, a sock-covered foot twitched at the sound.

Briiiiiiiiiiiing!

A low groan drifted up from the figure. His body shifted a little, but settled back in a slightly more comfortable position on the linoleum floor.

Briiiiiiiiiiiing!

"Unnngh... Shut up." A hoarse voice growled at the offending appliance. There was a tense beat of time where anticipation hung heavily in the air. The man was daring the telephone to make another sound.

The person calling him must have given up. Peace at last returned to the apartment. But the damage was done. Inu-Yasha had been dragged from unconsciousness back to the horrors of reality.

A low belch rumbled across the floor, reminding the half-demon that he had partaken in a strong liquid dinner the night before. Groaning at the taste, he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. With bloodshot eyes, he peered around himself. It seemed he had passed out on his way into the kitchen the night before. He considered himself lucky—he hadn't made it all the way to the light switch, which meant he wasn't blinded when he awoke.

"Unnh..." He rubbed his face with a clawed hand. Waking up on the floor wasn't a terribly uncommon occurrence in his life, but it always was accompanied by a rotten hangover. Today was no exception. Glancing down at the pool of whiskey nearby, he let out another grumble. He must have been completely out of his mind to have wasted that much of his precious liquid. "Prob'bly hafta go get some more today."

Speaking made his head pound even harder, so he quickly fell silent. In fact, he had to remain seated on the very uncomfortable floor for several minutes longer. The world was spinning just enough to make him question his ability to stand.

Over the course of the next hour, he managed to stand, down several glasses of water, and even clean up the mess on the floor. After a brief debate of having coffee or whiskey as his morning beverage, he flopped onto his couch with a tumbler of liquor clanking with ice. Taking a long, slow sip, he sighed with relief knowing his headache would soon dissipate.

He stayed still and quiet for a few more minutes. It required a few more sips of alcohol before his 'hair of the dog' cure kicked in, but at last he started to feel more awake. Finally opening his eyes, the blinking light on his answering machine caught his attention. In fact, it told him he had three missed messages.

"Damn it all... Can't they leave me alone for just a few days? I just did four damn assignments in a row..." Sighing heavily, he lit up a cigarette before pressing 'play'.

The first message surprised him, as it was from four days prior. How had he missed his phone ringing so many times? *Inu-Yasha, it's Sango. Call me when you get this. Miroku and I have some news we thought you might like to hear.* That was typical Sango. Short, sweet, and to the point. Rolling his eyes, he skipped to the next message.

This time, Miroku's voice greeted him with a recording from the following day. *Hey, Inu-Yasha! Can you please give Sango or I a call? I promise, this isn't another assignment. We have received some good news, you see, and there is going to be a small ceremony tomorrow in honor of it. We were hoping you might be able to attend. I know, I know, you hate such things... But it would really mean a lot to us. So... yeah. Talk to you soon!*

A touch of guilt crept into Inu-Yasha's chest as the machine beeped. It wasn't often Sango and Miroku invited him to things, because they knew all too well his dislike of large events. So if they were asking him to come, it must have been important.

The last message to play had been from the night before. Miroku's voice came through again, but disappointment laced his tone. *Hey, Inu-Yasha... I guess you didn't want to come. So, uh... If you could give us a call when you wake up tomorrow, that would be great.* The recording ended without a farewell.

Inu-Yasha let out a cloud of smoke, staring blankly at the wall. That all-too-familiar sensation of guilt was now beginning to gnaw away at him. Sango and Miroku had learned in the past couple months to ask little of him. He was available to do some assignments for his work at the Order, but other than that he kept to himself. He didn't go out with friends, he didn't meet up with anyone for coffee, and he didn't attend social events. He was, in a word, unavailable.

However, 'unavailable' had now come to mean 'drunk off his ass'. When he wasn't out hunting demons and jewel shards, then he was chasing a relatively constant state of intoxication. Knowing that sleep without the aid of alcohol was either nonexistent or plagued with nightmares, he found himself reaching for the bottle on a daily basis. More importantly, the crushing guilt that was always at the back of his mind was kept at bay when he was drunk. In fact, it was a particularly nasty bout of guilt and depression that had spurred him on a four day binge.

His bloodshot eyes drifted down to the tumbler his his fist. Perhaps it was turning into a five day binge now.

Heaving a sigh, he shrugged and took another sip of the fiery drink. He knew things would only grow more strained between them if he waited much longer to make contact. And he certainly didn't need any more guilt to contend with. So he slurped down the rest of his glass, took one last drag of his cigarette, then got up to change his clothes. Maybe he could make it up to Sango and Miroku by showing up at the office in person rather than just giving them a phone call.

Deep down, he knew the guilt would eat at him no matter what he did. His friends deserved better from him. But still, he pinned a scowl on his face as he got ready to go. Nobody needed to know his feelings. Sharing them had never done him any good in the past, and it was definitely not going to help him now.

After changing into a slightly less dirty outfit and downing two more glasses of whiskey, he set off to the Order's headquarters. He opted to take to the rooftops to get there. Since it was in the middle of the day, he didn't want to risk getting recognized on the streets. Only once had he made the mistake of wandering out into public in broad daylight, and his presence had drawn a crowd. Such a thought made him shudder in revulsion. Being fawned over as some sort of hero caused him to be physically ill. If he had to jump from rooftop to rooftop to avoid such an event, then so be it.

Upon arrival, he dropped to the sidewalk in front of the building with a wobble. Apparently the three drinks he had consumed were starting to hit him. It was a welcome sensation. Not only was his hangover receding, but the world felt just a little bit foggy. This meant his mood would be a little more even-keeled when he met with his friends. Sobriety brought out his temper, and he knew it was better to approach Sango and Miroku with a calm demeanor.

He pushed through the double doors and entered HQ. He spotted Rin, the new secretary, seated at the front desk. She was a lovely young woman, if a bit of a chatterbox, but was fitting into the position well. Despite his preference to keep people at a healthy distance, Inu-Yasha couldn't help but feel fond of the girl. She had that effect on people.

"G'mornin', Rin..." he grunted, trying to keep his words from slurring.

"Oh... Inu-Yasha." Instead of her usual smile, she greeted him with a look of concern and... disappointment? He couldn't quite tell. "Good afternoon."

The welcome was uttered curtly, with an emphasis on the time of day. Her eyes flicked all over him, taking in everything: his wrinkled, twice-worn clothes; his unbrushed hair; his bloodshot, glazed eyes and the bags beneath them; the slight sway as his body tried to match the tilting of the room. Yes, there was no doubt. She knew he was drunk, and she knew he had been in that state for a while.

Had this encounter happened a few weeks ago, he may have been embarrassed by the look Rin was sending his way. But now, he was numb to it. He had lost any desire to uphold his standing in society, so what did it matter if anyone thought little of him?

"Are Sango 'n' Miroku in their office?" He didn't care to go all the way upstairs if they weren't going to be there.

With a slight from, Rin checked her computer. After a few clicks, she nodded at him. "They're not in any meetings right now. You can go on up."

Nodding his thanks, he turned toward the stairs. However, he didn't get more than a couple of steps before Rin stopped him.

"Inu-Yasha?"

"Yeah?" He glanced over his shoulder. "What is it?"

She fixed him with a look, her mouth set in a firm line. She wasn't angry, more like... concerned. "Are... are you okay?"

Inu-Yasha raised an eyebrow at the question. Anyone in the Order knew that particular inquiry wasn't easy to answer right now. The war had taken its toll on everyone. Some more than others.

At his expression, Rin clearly felt the need to explain herself. "I-I just mean... w-well... I know what you had to do in the battle, and i-it must be hard to face the day. I haven't seen you around lately, and when I do, you're... erm... not yourself. I'm just worried about you, Inu-Yasha. That's all."

Had anyone else told him they were worried, he would have bitten their head off. He hated receiving pity or concern in any form. But coming from Rin, he couldn't get upset. Instead, he simply shrugged and turned back toward the stairwell.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he grunted. "I can handle myself." And then he jumped up to the next landing to avoid having to answer any more of her questions.

After leaping up a few more floors, Inu-Yasha stumbled to a halt outside Sango and Miroku's office. With a furtive glance down the hallway to ensure he was alone, he tugged his flask from his back pocket and took a long swallow. The biting ache of guilt was creeping back in his chest after his chat with Rin. He wanted no pity or concern. His actions against Kikyo warranted nothing but punishment. Yet no one seemed to understand this.

"Dammit..." His mood was crashing down hard. A simple conversation brought him right back to reality, ruining the decent whiskey haze he had sunk into. Again, he took another pull from his flask, trying to claw back the daze. He would do anything to keep himself from dwelling on those awful memories.

Finally, once his flask was empty, he sighed and tucked it back in his pocket. It was time to shake off his conversation with Rin and focus on facing his friends. Without bothering to knock, he pushed open the door to their office, then stumbled to a halt.

Instead of seeing their usual cramped and messy office, he was greeted by stacks of cardboard boxes. The two desks were clear and packed up, and the battered couch that he had spent plenty of time on was gone. Sango and Miroku both looked up in surprise when he entered the room. They were both emptying a filing cabinet, and whirled around at his arrival.

"Inu-Yasha! You scared us!" Sango let out a sigh of relief when she saw who it was. "Did we have an appointment?"

Scoffing, Inu-Yasha leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "You called me. Or did you already forget?"

Miroku peered at Inu-Yasha with a slight frown. "That was a few days ago. Excuse us for not expecting you now."

Again, that damn guilt twisted his insides. His fingers unconsciously twitched for his flask. "Feh. Whatever. I'm here now, so what did you wanna tell me? Maybe it will explain what the hell is goin' on in here." He nudged a box with his sneaker.

"Calm down, calm down..." Sango took a piece of tape to close the box she had been working on. "We're just moving offices, that's all. Would you add this to that stack?" Hefting the box onto her desk, she nodded over at a small pile under the window.

Pushing off the wall, Inu-Yasha stumbled over and grabbed the box. He was fully aware of Miroku's hard gaze watching his every movement, and he hoped his intoxication wasn't too apparent.

"Well, why're you movin' offices, then? You haven't changed offices since before I started here." He managed to get the box placed neatly on the intended stack.

Sango cast a glance at Miroku. "Would you like to tell him the news, or shall I?"

Surprisingly, Miroku just shrugged with indifference and went back to his packing. Not even Inu-Yasha could miss his cold behavior. Something was wrong.

With a soft sigh, Sango turned her attention back to the half-demon. "Miroku and I, well... our actions during the war did not go unnoticed. Kaede was highly impressed with us. So impressed..." She couldn't help but allow a proud grin to cross her face. "...that we have been promoted. We now answer to Kaede herself."

Inu-Yasha's eyebrows rose in surprise. This wasn't just news, this was big news. If they were answering directly to Kaede, the head of the Order, then that meant... "Y-you're now second-in-command?"

Her smile grew even bigger. Having always been focused on her career, this was a big deal for Sango. "We are! We're in the process of moving upstairs now. Next week, Kaede will begin teaching us about the rest of the Order's functions besides defense. We'll learn about the Order's role in law, medical services, politics..." She waved her hand, signifying there was even more.

"That's... that's amazin', you two." Inu-Yasha tried to drum up enthusiasm fitting for the situation, but drowning all his emotions in whiskey the past few days made that task difficult. "You sure as hell deserve it. You two worked yer asses off durin' the war. It's about damn time someone noticed."

Sango beamed at him. "Thank you, Inu-Yasha. That means a lot, coming from you."

He gave Sango a slightly pained smile in return. "So, are they doin' anything special? Some kinda ceremony or somethin'?"

"It's already been done, Inu-Yasha," Miroku snapped, spinning around in his chair to glare at the hanyou. "That's what we called you about a few days ago, and what you couldn't be bothered to call us back on! We wanted to see you there, Inu-Yasha! We wanted to celebrate our good news with you!"

This time, Inu-Yasha had to look away. Instead of meeting Miroku's eye, he focused outside the window. Guilt bit into his chest with a painful twist, but he tried to hide it with a weak scowl. "'Scuse me for not sittin' by the phone waitin' for you to call," he grunted.

"Inu-Yasha." Sango, normally the more fiery of the pair, spoke in a calm and sad voice. She had moved over to support Miroku with a hand on his back. "It's been five days since we first called. I don't think it was unreasonable of us to hope you'd reach back out in that time frame."

Crossing his arms in defense, he shut his eyes. He was regretting coming here. Hell, he was regretting listening to those voicemails. If he hadn't, then he would be sitting in a pleasant haze on his couch, letting the day drift by. Instead, he was being attacked by his two best friends, and he had no leg to stand on in his defense.

"I... I was busy," he growled lamely. "Just let it go, all right?"

"No, Inu-Yasha." Miroku matched Inu-Yasha's growl with a fairly impressive one of his own. "You weren't busy. You were drunk." He hissed out the last word, so harshly that the hanyou flinched. "Do you really think we didn't get concerned after three days and no contact? Especially with how depressed you've been after the war?!"

Inu-Yasha shrunk in on himself, hunching away from the verbal attack.

"I stopped by to check on you." Miroku's glare was unflinching. "Don't bother trying to remember, you wouldn't be able to. You barely made it to the door. Hell, you couldn't even string a sentence together."

Flushing to the tips of his ears, Inu-Yasha turned completely away. This conversation was painful. Yes, he had over-indulged, but who cared? It gave him a few hours of relief he so desperately craved.

"I know you're hurting." When Miroku spoke again, his tone was slightly softer. He was still upset, but concern was leaking through. "I know you're struggling. But dammit, Inu-Yasha, we're still your friends! I wanted to celebrate good news with you for once! So tell me, why? Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Inu-Yasha turned around with a snarl. "Jus' drop it, Miroku! I'm sorry, all right?! I'm sorry I missed your damn ceremony! But I'm here now! Get off my back!"

Throwing the files he was holding on the floor, Miroku surged to his feet. He looked ready to lunge at the half-demon. "You're not here now, you moron! You're drunk even now! Did you think we wouldn't notice?!"

Sango stepped between the pair in the hopes of calming things down. "We're worried about you, Inu-Yasha. At first we thought you were just blowing off steam. But things have progressed rapidly. Your drinking is... out of control, frankly. This is going down a bad road, and we just... we just want to help you."

Inu-Yasha glared at them in the silence following Sango's statement. His hands were balled into fists, and he was trembling with emotion. He knew they were waiting for him to say something, to guide them down their next path. But he had nothing. He didn't even know what he felt. So, feeling attacked and backed into a corner, he reacted the only way he knew how.

"Who the hell said I wanted your help, huh?! Dammit, I don't need any help, either! So I missed a couple things these past few days. So what?! Nobody missed me. It doesn't matter."

"We missed you, Inu-Yasha." Sango's voice was still strong and calm. "And it matters to us."

"Jus' forget it," he snapped back. "Don't keep lookin' to me for anything. You'll just end up disappointed in the end."

"Inu-Yasha...?" That statement even got Miroku's attention.

The half-demon shook his head roughly. "Never mind. That's enough. I-I'll leave you two to get back to packin'. Congrats on the promotion..." And he fled the room before either Sango or Miroku could say anything more.

He dashed down two flights of stairs in the hopes he wouldn't be followed. He couldn't bear the thought of being in the same room as them any longer. The guilt in his chest was a knife, twisting and paining him with every breath.

What was he thinking? This was Sango and Miroku. They had been with him through it all. Now that Kikyo was gone, they were all he had left. And not only did he miss an important event for them, but he practically attacked them for calling him out on his behavior.

On top of that guilt was the fact that they were worried about him. He knew his behavior had been erratic as of late. Everything he did, he did to the extreme. If he was upset, then he was furious, with a rage lasting for hours. If he was sad, then the depression crushed him, burying him for days. If he was given a demon assignment, then he would demand multiple assignments in a row until he was so exhausted he could barely move. And if he drank, then days would pass before he saw sobriety again. Yes, Sango and Miroku had every right to voice their concerns. Any normal friend would.

But he didn't want it. He didn't deserve it. Hell, he didn't even have the right to be alive. His claws had stolen the life away from Kikyo. So why was he walking around above ground now? He had no right at all.

Raking his claws through his bangs, he tried not to let out a sob. He didn't want to feel any of this. He just wanted to be numb. If he wasn't numb, then... Well, suicide had been contemplated on more than one occasion. Sango and Miroku were unaware of this, and he intended to keep it that way. Thus, to keep the more dangerous thoughts at bay, he opted to pour whiskey down his throat. It prevented him from taking more drastic action.

The thought of that drink made his mouth dry in longing. Instinctively, he groped for his flask and wrenched the cap off. Bringing it to his lips, he was suddenly reminded that he had already emptied it before his meeting his Sango and Miroku.

"Dammit!" He snarled, whirling around and hitting the wall with his palm. "Damn it all..."

"Inu-Yasha? What are you doing here, child?"

Inu-Yasha instantly froze at the hoarse voice. Having thought he was alone during his fit, he had to stop himself from attacking this spectator.

"You're rather jumpy today, Inu-Yasha. Did you not sense me coming?" Old Lady Kaede, head of the Order herself, climbed the last couple steps as she greeted the half-demon. "Hmm..." She took a closer look at him, and he nearly squirmed under her one-eyed gaze. "Ah. Drunk yet again, are you? That would explain things."

His cheeks flushing even darker, he straightened and scowled at her. "What the hell's that s'posed to mean?!" With his temper running high, he was struggling to remain civil. It didn't matter that this was one of the few people who still held his respect, he was ready to lash out.

The old woman quirked an eyebrow at him. "You've been drunk or hungover every time you've stopped by HQ the past several weeks in a row. Your eyes are bloodshot, your balance is off, and you didn't hear, smell, or sense my arrival. It takes little to deduce your current condition."

This time, Inu-Yasha flat-out growled at her. "Anythin' else you wanna point out?! I didn't shine my shoes this mornin'? Forgot to brush my hair?"

Kaede remained unfazed by his outburst. "You know I am the head nurse here. It's my job to know if our agents are physically capable of doing their jobs. And right at his moment..." She poked a gnarled finger into his chest. "You are not."

He snarled again, backing up a step. "I ain't here on an assignment, so back off. I was just stoppin' by to see Sango 'n' Miroku."

"Ah, yes. They were most eager to tell you their good news." Her eye narrowed. "But you missed the ceremony. It is a shame, that."

He didn't bother responding. It hurt too much.

Studying him carefully, Kaede finally sighed and shook her head. "You are hurting, Inu-Yasha. And you need help. I will task your friends with finding a therapist for you to speak with. Things cannot continue in this manner." She gestured at the empty flask in his grip. "Go home, sober up, and get a good night's sleep. I expect to see you in Sango and Miroku's office first thing tomorrow morning." Her tone forbade argument.

Inu-Yasha found he was having difficulty speaking. Rage was locking his jaw shut. "Anything else?!" he ground out through clenched teeth.

Unfazed by his temper, Kaede simply patted him on the arm as she strode past. "Don't forget that we're on your side, Inu-Yasha. We only want to see you well again." And with that, she rounded a corner and was out of sight.

His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. After being attacked by everyone he had spoken to, it was difficult to accept her last statement. It certainly didn't feel like anyone was in his corner. Uttering a low, gutteral growl, he spun on his heel and sped down the stairs. The less time he spent in this building, the better. With his temper riding this high, it would not be good to run into anyone else. He flew past the reception desk so fast that Rin's hair blew wildly and papers scattered everywhere. Once he was outside, he took to the rooftops to get some peace.

He did nothing but run for the better part of an hour. The wind was icy cold up among the skyscrapers, but he stayed. His feet pounded a rhythm, leading him faster and faster away from the Order. He wanted nothing more than to escape his thoughts, and was trying to outrun them. It didn't work, of course. He had long since learned that this particular method of escape lasted only as long as his stamina. As soon as he slowed down, the bad thoughts crept back in.

So, after a mad dash around the city's perimeter twice, he finally crashed to a halt in front of the Cornerstone Tap. Gasping and panting for breath, he fell against the door and staggered inside.

"Wuh... wuh... wh-whiskey," he panted before Iro could get the inquiry out.

The bartender did as he was asked without question. Inu-Yasha was a frequent patron. He came often enough, in varying states of distress that Iro had learned not to pry and not to hesitate when pouring the first glass. With enough booze, Inu-Yasha would eventually spill his troubles and woes.

His hand trembling with exhaustion, Inu-Yasha shakily brought the tumbler to his lips and drank. He closed his eyes as the drink burned his throat and lit his belly on fire. It brought the soothing warmth he so craved now.

He didn't need Sango and Miroku's words buzzing around his head. He didn't need Rin's curt expression hanging before his eyes. And he certainly didn't need Kaede's disapproval seeping into his bones. So, he did what he had been doing for the past several weeks—drink the emotions away. He could only hope that one glass would eventually do the job.

OoOoOoO

The tap tap tap of a glass on the wooden bartop brought Iro over.

"Really, boy... You've had enough."

Scowling darkly, Inu-Yasha tapped his glass even harder.

"I said 'no'." Iro crossed his arms over his ample chest and glared at the half-demon. "If you can't even talk, why the hell would I give you more? You want me to lose my liquor license? I'd already be in trouble as is if someone caught you."

A fang jutted over his lip as he sneered at the bartender. "I-I've... got money. Gimme... 'nother."

"No." Iro slapped his towel on the bar to emphasize his point. "You have done nothin' but drink in silence for the last four hours. Go home. Get some sleep. The whiskey'll still be here when you're ready for more."

Inu-Yasha growled, but finally let go of the tumbler. He couldn't think clearly enough to try and argue further. Perhaps Iro did have a point... Hell, Kaede had told him the same thing a few hours prior. So, with a heavy sigh, he fumbled with his wallet and dropped a few bills on the counter.

"I'll... s-see ya t'morrow," he grunted, trying to get his tongue working again.

Iro snorted in disbelief as the half-demon slid off his stool and leaned heavily against the bar. "If you can even get out of bed tomorrow, I'll be damn impressed, boy. Want me to call you a cab?"

Waving the offer away, Inu-Yasha let out a disgruntled grumble and staggered his way into the crisp evening air.

He stopped in the doorway and gazed blearily around. There were a few people wandering along the sidewalks, and several cars on the street. It was prime time for the city's nightlife to emerge. The Cornerstone Tap was no hotspot, but it was en route to the clubs and bars of downtown. This meant there was a fair amount of traffic in the early evening.

A sneer tugged at his lips. He hated getting caught in crowds. Of course, it was his own fault for starting a drinking session earlier than usual. On a normal night, the streets were clear by the time he stumbled out of the bar. Tonight, he was out of luck.

"Stupid Iro... kickin' me out too early." He sighed heavily, but was too drunk to keep hold of any anger. Swaying noticeably as the sidewalk tilted around him, he managed to get a cigarette lit for the walk home. With a long drag, he finally tottered out of the doorway.

The walk was certainly more difficult than usual. Everything was muffled and muted. The sounds of honking horns, noisy conversations, and the revving of engines all drifted through Inu-Yasha's brain as though it was filtered through cotton. The lights of the city all spun and swirled in his vision, while everything else appeared as blurs. He was rapidly growing nauseated by the non-stop light show. And of course, he couldn't walk a straight line to save his life. More than one partygoer cussed at him when he accidentally stumbled into them.

"D-dammit..."

At last, he spotted a chance for a reprieve. Staggering even more than when he had first left the bar, he made it to a bench and sank down with a sigh. There was a starry-eyed couple sitting at the other end of the bench. They had been giggling and chatting softly with one another, but were rudely interrupted when Inu-Yasha let out a loud hiccup. It took him a moment to notice their combined gazes, but he eventually looked over.

"Whaddaya want?" he slurred, leaning in their direction. The girl shrieked at their close proximity and plastered herself into her boyfriend's side. Inu-Yasha let out a bitter laugh as the man hurriedly gathered the girl and bustled her down the sidewalk. "Good riddance. I-I wan'ed th' whole bench anyway."

With a groan, he stretched out his full length. This was definitely a good idea, laying down. Things were much more stable when he was prone.

Sighing heavily, he stared up at the sky. Dusk was giving away to darkness. Through the light pollution, he could make out a few stars swirling above him. He watched them blearily, but found it too difficult to follow their dizzying paths. What had gotten him in such a state, anyway?

He blew out one last cloud of cigarette smoke and dropped the butt on the sidewalk. Something had happened earlier, but he couldn't quite recall. Perhaps it was best he didn't. He was much more content to lay on this bench than drudge up angry memories. That was his usual reason for drinking, after all. It meant he was trying to forget.

He sighed again and shut his eyes. The spinning stars were making him dizzy. He just wanted a moment's respite before continuing on home. Laying here for a while longer would give him the energy he needed to make that one final hurdle. It was so comfortable, and he would surely feel better after a brief rest...

OoOoOoO

"Unnnh..."

When Inu-Yasha's consciousness returned to him at last, the only thing he could do was moan. He was fairly certain his stomach was preparing to expel all its contents in short order, so he rolled onto his side to prevent himself choking. Unfortunately, that action caused him to roll off his perch and crash to the floor. That was all his stomach needed to lose control. He barely managed to prop himself up before last night's indulgences rushed forth.

"Ugh, seriously?" A whiny, unfamiliar voice piped up over the half-demon's retches. "Chief, that boozehound in the private tank just hurled everywhere."

Coughing and spitting out a foul mouthful, Inu-Yasha sat back on his bottom. The world was swirling so much and his head was pounding so hard that he could hardly stand to stay upright. Though he was vaguely aware of some more voices speaking, he couldn't focus enough to pay attention. Groping blindly, he found something cool and hard to his right. Desperate for any relief, he pressed his forehead against it and moaned.

He was able to sit in relative peace for a few minutes. He focused only on deep, slow breaths. And after a while, the pounding in his head slowed from a jackhammer to a drumbeat. It was still painful, but more manageable. However, when the sound of cell bars clanging open shattered the peace, he nearly leapt out of his skin.

"Th' hell?! Ohhh..." A pathetic groan escaped him as he rested his head in his hands.

"'The hell' indeed." A deep voice rumbled over Inu-Yasha. "As in, 'what the hell are you doing in here, boy'?!"

Inu-Yasha slowly cracked open his bloodshot eyes. Though he could only manage to lift his head for a moment, he was able to make out the man's features. "Oh... 'syou, Chief."

"Yes, it's me." Chief Matsuhara, head of the city's massive policy department, was glaring down at the half-demon. His bushy mustache ruffled as he heaved out a gust of air. "But I'm more concerned about you. So, again... what are you doing here?"

Glancing around, Inu-Yasha finally realized where he was. He was sitting on a concrete floor, and had fallen off a metal slab of a bed attached to the wall. He was in a jail cell. After a moment, he shrugged and dragged his dull gaze back to the chief.

"Dunno. This ain't where I fell asleep."

Chief Matsuhara snorted as he sat down on the bed. "That's just the thing. You fell asleep on a street bench. Or rather, you passed out on a street bench." He fixed Inu-Yasha with a firm look. "This is the third time we've scraped your drunk ass of public property. We had to take you to the hospital this time since you were unconscious. Your blood alcohol levels were almost 0.35, boy! Do you know how dangerous that is?"

Inu-Yasha looked away. His head was still thundering behind his skull, and the smell wafting from the puddle of vomit was not helping him think any clearer.

"It was... just a bad day, that's all."

"An alcohol level of 0.35 is not just a bad day, Inu-Yasha."

The chief's tone was serious. Serious enough that, even with his raging hangover, Inu-Yasha knew what was being implied. Matsuhara felt he was on the verge of self-harm.

"Ugh." Inu-Yasha groaned in exasperation. "Just let it go. It's not that big of a deal, chief. I'm a hanyou. I can handle myself just fine." This conversation was bringing back memories of yesterday. Was he ever going to get through a chat without being attacked?

The chief scoffed in reply and rubbed his forehead. "Do you take me for a fool? Do you think I have knots for eyes? You've only started pulling stunts like this after the fight against Naraku. I've seen similar things happen to my officers after a traumatic event. Their mental state goes downhill quickly. You're a textbook example of that right now, boy."

At that, Inu-Yasha's eyes flashed in anger. Matsuhara didn't know what he had gone through against Naraku, and he did not appreciate being told he was just like everyone else. However, he didn't want to discuss the horrid events of that day, so he opted to direct his rage elsewhere.

"I don't need any lecturin' from you, chief," he snarled. "Why the hell d'you care, anyway? Yeah, I know public intoxication is illegal, but I don't hurt anyone or start fights. So back off!"

In spite of the fury directed at him, Chief Matsuhara's gaze softened as he stared at the half-demon. He was quiet for a moment, but finally sighed and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one in his mouth, then offered one. Inu-Yasha accepted it warily.

"You know..." Flicking his lighter to life, he lit their cigarettes. They both enjoyed a deep drag before he continued. "We in the police force are in your debt. I don't know what exactly happened to you that day. But as far at the force... as I... am concerned, you saved lives. Thousands of them. You saved our families. You saved my men. There is nothing we can do to repay that. I hope you understand that, Inu-Yasha." He leaned forward to look the half-demon in the eye. "You're fighting your own demons from that day, I know that much. But don't forget... this city is still here today because of your actions."

Inu-Yasha bowed his head. He could no longer hold the chief's gaze as guilt tortured and twisted his insides. The chief was only trying to make him feel better, but the opposite effect was happening. He breathed deeply another lungful of cigarette smoke, hoping to keep the emotions at bay.

"...When can I get outta here?" he finally muttered, purposefully glossing over Matsuhara's pep talk. He wanted nothing to do with it.

The chief frowned a bit at his response, but knew he couldn't force anything out of Inu-Yasha. The half-demon's stubbornness was legendary. "You can leave whenever you're up to it, boy. You aren't detained. We just didn't want to leave you out in the elements last night."

Inu-Yasha's eyebrows rose, and he nodded briefly in appreciation. Yet again, the chief was keeping this pickup off the record. Despite how cranky his demeanor was, he did appreciate the break. Having arrests on his record could cause him a lot of trouble down the road.

"Oh, and one more thing..." Matsuhara snapped his fingers in recollection. "Sango called earlier asking if you were here. Said something about a meeting with you...?"

"Ah, dammit." Inu-Yasha groaned and ran his fingers through his bangs. "That's right... Damn, am I gonna get my ass handed to me." Still wobbly from the remnants of alcohol in his system, he hefted himself to his feet. He swayed briefly, but caught himself on the wall and shut his eyes. The room needed to slow down before he felt it was safe to take a step.

Chief Matsuhara watched him warily. "Inu-Yasha... Just watch yourself. You're gonna make yourself sick at this rate."

Inu-Yasha gave him a bleary-eyed glare. "Who gives a damn?"

With that, he staggered out of the cell and headed to HQ.

OoOoOoO

The air in Sango and Miroku's new office was thick with tension. Sango was tapping her pen on her desk in an irritating fashion. Kaede, who had temporarily taken over Miroku's desk, was quietly typing up an email. And Miroku was unloading boxes of paperwork into filing cabinets. No one was speaking.

But at last, once her email was sent, Kaede swiveled in the chair to face Sango. "Calm yourself, child. He will come."

"But he was supposed to be here hours ago," Sango snapped back, slapping her pen down. "Does he care so little about his job that he ignores a meeting with the head of the Order?! He could get in big trouble!"

Kaede cast a glance at Miroku and raised an eyebrow in a silent question. With a shrug, Miroku returned her look with a small, apologetic smile. When Sango got herself worked up over something, it was quite tricky to calm her back down. He found it was usually best to allow her time to yell before saying anything to her. Hence why he was staying silent for the moment.

With a light sigh, the elderly woman turned her attention back to Sango. "Seeing as this is not necessarily a meeting to punish him, he needn't worry about his job being on the line."

"But he doesn't know that!" Sango snapped back, clearly forgetting just who it was she was yelling at. "He's being blatantly disrespectful to all of us by being so late!"

"You are focusing on the wrong issue," Miroku finally spoke up, his tone gentle and soft. "Whe have a far more important reason to call him here. Important enough to keep us all here four hours after the meeting time."

Before Sango could respond, the phone rang. Kaede grabbed it before her. It was clear she wanted Sango to calm down before speaking with anyone else.

After a brief conversation, Kaede hung up the phone. "He's on his way up. Sango, can you keep in control of yourself when he arrives?"

Frowning, Sango sat back in her chair, crossed her arms, and shut her eyes. Miroku knew she was simply concerned about their friend. Unfortunately for her coworkers, that usually resulted in her hyper-focusing on other things. Those around her tended to suffer for it. But Miroku was quite used to being on the receiving end of her ire, and was able to let the anger roll off his back.

"It's all right. He's our friend. He may get angry with us once we tell him why he's here... But he will hear us." Miroku did his best to keep his tone calm in the hopes it might comfort Sango.

Kaede nodded at him in approval. "We are all worried for him, child. He needs this."

Sango was now flushing in embarrassment. "All right, all right. I get it. I'll keep calm when he gets here."

Satisfied that his girlfriend was back in control of herself, Miroku turned toward the door. Mentally, he took a deep breath to calm his own nerves. He felt guilty for the vitriol he had spewed toward the half-demon yesterday. While he did have reason to be angry, Inu-Yasha was incapable of dealing with anything else heaped upon him. It was cruel to have done so, and Miroku dearly wanted to keep in better control of himself today.

It was only another minute before the door to the office opened. From the moment Inu-Yasha entered the room, it was clear he'd had a rough night. His hair was a mess, his rumpled clothes were the same ones from yesterday, and he smelt of stale, soured whiskey. Red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes traveled over the trio, but he chose to drain nearly a full bottle of water rather than say anything. Waking up with a hangover always made him thirsty, they knew.

Crumpling the plastic bottle in his fist, he tossed it in the trash can by the door. "What's goin' on? You all look like someone's died."

Miroku opted to take the lead. "No, no, Inu-Yasha. Nothing like that. Come and sit down, you look like you could use a break."

With a snort, Inu-Yasha, flopped down on the couch with no argument. Truthfully, he felt like hell, and the world was still tilting a bit around him. He would definitely do better sitting down for this meeting.

"So..." he grunted, tugging out a cigarette and flicking his lighter to life. "What the hell's this meetin' about?"

"Well..." Miroku glanced over at Kaede, who nodded in encouragement. "It's about you, actually."

The demon immediately tensed. Already he had an inkling as to what was going on. But he managed to keep his temper in check. Instead, he took a deep drag of his cigarette and breathed out a stream of smoke. "What about me?" he ground out. "Are you not happy with my work?"

"No, Inu-Yasha. Your work on assignments has been fine. It's how your time outside assignments is spent."

At that, his sharp gaze snapped over to Miroku. "What I do on my own time ain't your damn business," he growled. "It's got nothin' to do with the Order."

"You were over four hours late for our meeting today, Inu-Yasha." Sango bit out the sentence with difficulty. "It's affecting the Order."

A snarl tugged at Inu-Yasha's lips, but he looked away. "I got... held up."

"Don't lie to us!" Shattering the thin veneer of calm in the room, Sango slapped her palm on her desk and shot to her feet. "You got yourself so blackout wasted that the cops threw you in the drunk tank last night! You weren't even awake yet when I called the chief! Hell, the fact that I even knew to call the chief proves that this isn't the first time this has happened!"

Inu-Yasha shot to his feet as well, determined not to let the balance of power shift in the room. His whole body was tense and defensive. "What do you care, huh?! All you an' Miroku worry about is whether I'm able to kill the next demon you send my way!"

"How dare you!" she hissed right back. "How dare you say that?! We are worried about you, you asshole? You went through so much trauma with Kikyo, we know you're suffering! We just want to help you, dammit! We aren't monsters!"

That caught Inu-Yasha off-guard. While he stood in silence, trying to comprehend what she just said, Miroku moved over to rest his hand on her arm.

"She speaks the truth, Inu-Yasha." Kaede's soft voice cut through the tension. "You have suffered a great deal. We understand you are trying to cope. But your methods are harming you rather than helping. It has gotten to the point where we feel the need to step in."

Inu-Yasha's gaze flicked over to the old woman. He kept quiet, puffing on his cigarette. His hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly, while his entire body remained tense. He looked for all the world like a cornered animal.

As time stretched on and Inu-Yasha still didn't speak, Miroku decided it was necessary to explain themselves a bit further. He didn't like the look on the half-demon's face.

"Inu-Yasha... I hope you can see where we're coming from. Your drinking is affecting everything. We can't rely on you right now. Haven't you noticed how easy your assignments have been lately? We can't trust you with the more difficult, complicated tasks. Getting ahold of you between assignments is nearly impossible. And we we do get to see you in person, you look ill all the time. Inu-Yasha..." He sighed sadly. "You need help."

At last, the half-demon found his voice. "Look at you three..." he growled softly. "All high an' mighty. You've got me all figured out, don'cha?"

Sensibly, the trio kept quiet. They all, even Sango, knew it was better to let him have his say.

"Why the hell d'you think I keep drinkin', hm? Because I have to. If I don't, then I don't sleep. If I don't, I can't focus on my battles. If I don't, then all I think about..." His voice caught in his throat. For a brief flash, everyone could see his pain. "...is her."

Nobody dared to speak. Inu-Yasha sighed heavily, and his whole body seemed to deflate. Blowing out one last cloud of smoke, he took his cigarette stub and ground it out against his palm. "I don't want help. I don't want anything. I just don't want to feel."

"Inu-Yasha..." Sango was the first one brave enough to speak. "That's... that's no way to live your life."

He glared darkly at her. "I know you got promoted. But last I checked, that doesn't give you power over my life."

"I-I didn't mean..."

"Never mind." He abruptly cut her off. "It's clear you three have no clue what I'm talking about. Was there anything else job-related that we needed to discuss?"

Kaede piped up once more. "There is."

Having expected no response, Inu-Yasha was clearly displeased. "What is it, then?"

She gave him a steely look, silently reminding him that he was not the one in charge of the room. "Due to a decline in your capabilities, you are now on probation with the Order. Every task you perform for the Order will be reviewed immediately upon completion. You will report directly back to headquarters after each assignment. You will also call either Sango or Miroku each morning to see if you have an assignment. If there are any mistakes, or if you miss a day of contact, then you will be suspended from your duties. Do you understand?"

It seemed Inu-Yasha was past the point of speech. He was staring at the old woman with a look of utter hatred, something that had never happened during his years with the Order.

"Inu-Yasha." Kaede remained firm. "Do you understand?"

Wrenching the words from his throat looked painful. "I understand, you old hag. You really don't care, do you? You just want your obedient little lap dog back. So glad to know my voice is heard. Especially among my friends." He hissed out the last word with sheer malice.

"You need structure, Inu-Yasha." Kaede spoke a little faster, knowing the half-demon was getting ready to bolt. "You haven't had that for a long-"

"Save your breath. We're done here." Then, faster than they had seen him move in a long time, he leapt out the open window and disappeared amongst the skyscrapers.

Instantly, the tension in the room dropped with his departure. Sango and Miroku both let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding.

"Kaede... Why?" Sango looked at her superior with confusion and sadness. "W-we... we never agreed to do that to him."

With a sigh, the old woman leaned against the desk. "I know, child. I was saving that as a last resort. But it was clear he would not listen, and I was forced to get firm with him." She looked straight at her subordinates. "Inu-Yasha is in pain. And he is wandering. By forcing some structure into his life, we may just bring back some normalcy for him."

Miroku grimaced slightly. "I'm afraid I don't have your optimism... He has never done well on a leash. You recall how much effort it took Kikyo to convince him to join the Order in the first place."

"We are left little choice in this matter. Inu-Yasha cannot be allowed to continue down this path. The city still needs him. You two still need him." Her tone and posture indicated that the discussion was over. "I expect you two to have an assignment ready for him tomorrow. If he does not contact you, let me know no later than noon."

Once she received silent nods from the pair, she took her leave. As the door clicked shut behind her, Sango and Miroku shared a glance. They knew already that this was not going to go well.

OoOoOoO

It was with a gusty sigh that Inu-Yasha collapsed on his couch. For the first time in hours, he felt a little more in control of himself. His memory of the time since the morning meeting was sparse. Pure rage was all that had fueled him once he left the office. He had moved only on instinct, dashing about the city's rooftops as fast as his legs could carry him. It was as though he had tried to outrun the ugliness that was creeping into his life. But eventually, his body had begun to tire, and his fury cooled off enough to let logical thought creep back in. With his senses back, he finally chose to retreat back to his apartment to rest.

"Damn it all..."

The curse was uttered weakly as he threaded his fingers through his bangs. How could they do that to him? Treat him like an unruly child and put him on a leash? Completely ignore the pain he was in? He had expected, of all people, for Sango and Miroku to understand what he was going through. Or even just try to understand. In fact... he had counted on that. He had relied on the fact that they would always be there for him.

And now, that trust was shaken.

Groaning, he leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. How had things gone to hell so quickly? Yesterday had been dreadful, getting attacked by his two best friends. Today had gone even worse. Waking up with a hangover in a jail cell, being hours late for a meeting, and then being punished for being depressed...

His life was falling apart. He was stuck. And Kikyo... He didn't know what to do without her. She had taught him how to live life. Before meeting her, his life was just trying to survive, day after day. Nothing more. But Kikyo had given him everything. That one lesson, how to live, was treasured.

Now, she was gone. And it was his fault.

He had spoken the truth in that office. He wanted nothing more than numbness. Alcohol killed his emotions and his senses. Alcohol smothered everything. The guilt, the anxiety, the rage... It all slipped away with every drink. Sobriety was more harmful to himself than intoxication.

...Wasn't it?

Now that his temper had cooled somewhat, he could think a bit more clearly.

The meeting that morning proved that things could not continue on as they had been. Near-constant intoxication was catching up with him. His job was in danger, which had never been something to question before. And to find out he had purposefully been given easier assignments was a blow to his pride. While drunk, he hadn't questioned the lack of complexity. He had simply been glad to finish them quickly and get back to the bar. But now, knowing it was because he couldn't be trusted... When had that happened?

He rubbed his face in frustration. An ugly truth was being shoved right under his nose. Maybe... just maybe... they were right. All the awfulness from the past few days—hell, the past couple months—all stemmed from his newfound drinking habit.

"Dammit... how did this happen...? When did I become so damn weak...?" He knew why he'd started drinking. His guilt had nearly driven him mad. After his excursion with Koga's wolfpack, he had discovered how comforting the heady haze of liquor was. And once he'd realized that, he never looked back. One night at the Cornerstone Tap turned into two, which turned into stopping by the liquor store thrice weekly, and ended with him drunk on a near-daily basis. All to escape the guilt.

"Pathetic fool," he growled low. He did indeed do this to himself. "I can't keep this goin'... If I lose the Order, then I lose Sango and Miroku. And if I lose them... I have nothin' left."

That thought shook him. Even though he was furious with his friends for being so callous, it didn't change the fact that they were indeed all he had left. He couldn't lose them. If he did, his link to sanity might slip away as well.

"Dammit all," he cursed again. "I've really fucked up." Climbing to his feet, he slowly plodded into the kitchen.

If he was going to keep his job and his friends, then he had no choice but to get rid of the booze. The temptation would be too great if a moment of weakness struck him. He flung open his liquor cabinet and found his last bottle perched innocently on the shelf. Staring at it, he sighed heavily before pulling it out. Then he unscrewed the cap and moved to pour it down the sink.

Or at least, that was what he had planed to do. But the moment the smell hit his sensitive nose, he stopped dead. An overwhelming wave of desire rushed through him, and his grip on the bottle tightened. This day had been rotten. It had been a long time since he'd felt such intense fury as he had this morning. He didn't want to feel that. Hell, he didn't want to feel anything. Just the odor of whiskey sent a shiver of longing down his spine. It was his ticket to relief, all he had to do was down it...

Suddenly gasping for air, he tossed the bottle in the sink as though it burned him. Where the hell had that come from? When had his addiction become so strong? He watched with shaky breaths as the booze slipped down the drain. The desperation was still there, but now fear overpowered it.

"C-c'mon, moron... Get it together..." He quickly tugged out a cigarette, hoping the nicotine might calm things down in his brain. "Y-you just need to suck it up... Do your damn job. Things will b-be fine..."

But saying the words aloud brought him no comfort. The doubt was niggling in the back of his mind, while fear and guilt gnawed at his chest. He stayed staring at the sink, long after the whiskey had drained out.

"Dammit..." The word echoed around his apartment. Things did not look good.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

There you have it. You may recall from Sango's brief explanation to Kagome in Guilty Hero, Inu-Yasha managed to stay sober up until Christmas. This is the story leading up to that.

Again, these are just writing prompts and little bits and pieces of things I wrote over the years. Nothing meant to be crazy. Please, leave a review and tell me what you think! Take care in this crazy, crazy world, everyone.