The It Couple
Chapter Ten
Sango awoke the next morning in her sparse studio apartment, clad in nothing but a bathrobe, makeup still on. She'd been so exhausted getting home last night that it was all she could do to at least get her expensive fancy dress and shoes off before collapsing.
Reflexively, she grabbed her phone and checked her messages. Six messages straight from Miroku? She shot up into a sitting position. Was something wrong?
"Where are you? Movie's over, I'm in the lobby." She had indeed seen him there last night, looking around for her, but then Hiten Raimei had eaten some sort of appetizer that he hadn't known contained shrimp, and Sango had had to spend the next hour sitting with him in his private box, force feeding him Benadryl and getting a discrete makeup artist to disguise the red hives that had broken out all over his face.
"Do you need help?" Once the Hiten situation was handled, she'd had to go run to make sure the press junket for 'Blades of Blood and Glory' was good to go at the hotel. All the chairs were set up, the lighting was in place. That had at least run smoothly. But there weren't enough press kits for the amount of reporters they were expecting, so she'd had to run to her office to get another few dozen ready, then run them back to the hotel and leave them waiting in the press lobby.
"Heading to afterparty at Sound. Traffic insane. Too many limos. See you there." Sango had then been confronted with Hiten's frantic girlfriend, who had apparently been left behind at the theatre by him and his entourage. She'd arranged for a cab to take the girl to Sound.
"You outdid yourself. This shit is awesome. At what agency did you find the sexy ninja models? I need to know, for reasons." At that point, Sango had realized that she'd had nothing to eat since about noon that day, so she'd grabbed a cab and bribed him to take her through a drive-thru burger joint.
"Drinksd are greatt. Wher are you I misss youuuuuuu." And of course, being Sango and having the worst luck in the history of human existence, she'd spilled ketchup all down the front of her gorgeous Vivienne Westwood gown. So she'd had to tell the cabbie to turn around and take her back to the apartment so she could change.
"Sangooooo will yoou marryt me? You'r the womna of my dreamsz. Where ar youuuu…" The sight of her own bed had evidently been too much for Sango, and she'd simply thrown in the towel and flopped down and fallen asleep within seconds.
Sango smiled at the messages and texted back, "Good morning, idiot. Sounds like you had a fun night. I had a whole series of crises to handle and then I went straight home. Hope you're not too hungover."
She yawned and stretched, then trudged into the bathroom to get the makeup off her face. She should probably get that dress to the dry cleaners as soon as possible, too.
"Can I get some scrambled eggs, please?" Kikyou yelled from her room.
"Right away," muttered Kagome, her hair a wild mess, as she rolled out of bed and walked barefoot to the kitchen.
"Egg whites only for Naraku," Kikyou added insistently.
"I got it!" Kagome yelled, more snappishly than she normally would. She needed coffee, stat.
As she got to work on the scrambled eggs (which were seemingly all her sister ever wanted for breakfast these days), she recalled last night's events at the afterparty. The club had been done up like feudal-era Japan per Sango's design, with murals lining the walls and a full buffet with no doubt the best sashimi Kagome had ever had.
Kikyou and Naraku had posted up in one of the VIP booths and spent most of the time just talking to each other and other A-listers who came up to say hello.
Meanwhile, the lesser cast and crew, most of them contract workers for Sunrise Studios, had been getting down on the dance floor, and had dragged Inuyasha along with them. Kagome had sat and watched him interact with all of them, from the key grip to the extras, and had tried not to fall for him harder. It was a losing battle.
As the party had wound down and everyone was saying goodnight, he had insisted on getting Miroku home safely, as Miroku had apparently drunk the entire bar and kept asking where Sango was, to the point where he was starting to get belligerent.
Kagome had only gotten a small wave in before he was carrying Miroku's drunk ass out the door. Kikyou had said she wanted to leave shortly after that.
And now here Kagome was, the next morning, making scrambled eggs to give her sister breakfast in bed. The glamorous life never ended, did it?
When the eggs were done, she put the plates on the silver serving tray and carefully walked to the master bedroom.
Kikyou and Naraku were in the middle of a fairly animated conversation. Kagome just kept her head down and went to set the tray on the nightstand.
"Don't you trust me, sweetheart?" Kikyou was saying.
"I trust you. It's that asshole Inuyasha I don't trust. He wants you back, I can tell," Naraku griped.
Kagome almost knocked over Kikyou's glass of grapefruit juice, but caught it in time.
"What makes you say that?" Kikyou asked coquettishly.
"Babe," Naraku said, sitting on the bed next to her, "Look at you. You're a goddess. What man wouldn't be obsessed with you?"
"You're sweet," Kikyou said, smiling as she pulled her long black curtain of hair over her shoulders, "but really, you shouldn't worry. I'm doing all of this for us."
Naraku looked a little confused. "How does any of that help us?"
"Sweetie," Kikyou said in a sing-song voice, crossing her legs seductively, "When I win the Oscar, think what that will mean for us! Think of all the roles that will open up! It puts us back on top! And by 'us,' I mean all of us!"
Naraku's bewildered look stretched into a smile. "You're so smart, babe."
They started kissing and writhing around, and Kagome took that as her cue to leave the room as quickly as goddamn possible.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her shorts. It was a text from an unknown number.
"What's happening, hot stuff? Meet me for lunch downtown?"
Kagome rolled her eyes. "Who the hell is this. Not funny."
A reply twenty seconds later. "Not joking. This is Kouga Okami. We met last night in the limo, remember?"
Kagome figured she could probably be knocked over with a feather at this moment.
"How did you get my number?"
"Houshi gave it to me at Sound last night." Of course he did. It was shocking he hadn't given out her date of birth and social security number while he was at it.
Still...this was at least intriguing. What on earth did Kouga Okami, Hollywood's number-one bad boy, want with her? Well, she figured she knew what he wanted, but she wasn't exactly his type, as in she wasn't a model or a pop singer.
"So will you meet me?"
Kagome thought about it for a second, she really did.
"No, thanks. Have a good day."
She assumed that would be the end of it, but her phone buzzed again a few seconds later.
"Damn, cold as ice! I have to come clean then. I need a date for the Hollywood Film Awards. They're tomorrow night. You game?"
Okay, was she still asleep somehow? Or in some weird alternate reality?
"What about Ayame?"
"She has to film a music video in Belfast. No dice. So I'm asking you. Say yes. I promise to be a good boy. I won't even hold your hand unless you let me." There followed a heart-eyed emoji. Kagome snorted.
Why not go, though? A wicked little voice in her mind was chattering away. Kikyou's already said she won't go to the HFA's in a million years. It's a tiny awards show; why shouldn't you go? Maybe you'll even get the dinner course this time.
"I don't have a dress."
"I'll take you shopping." Kouga was a smoothie, she had to admit. It was getting harder and harder to find excuses to say no.
Kagome sank into a barstool at the kitchen counter, running a hand through her wild black hair. Dared she do this? There was no reason not to. It wasn't like she had to work that night.
"Actually, I think I do have just the right dress."
What on earth was she doing? This was crazy! And yet, there was a little excitement in the pit of her stomach. It would be fun to just sit back and enjoy an elegant evening without feeling like the hired help. To feel like she was there because someone wanted her there, not because they needed her there.
"What color is dress?" the next text from Kouga read.
"Malachite blue. Draped-silk taffeta. Why?"
"Have to make sure I don't clash for photos." And a wink emoji.
Kagome put her phone back in her pocket and returned to her room. She'd been just about to make herself some breakfast, but her stomach was so tied in knots now she was worried anything she ate might work its way back up immediately.
She went to the closet and pulled out the huge box with the De La Renta dress in it, the one Kikyou had decided against at the last minute. It was sized to fit her sister, Kagome knew, but maybe, just maybe…
Shedding all but her panties, she carefully stepped into the gown and zipped up the bodice (thank the heavens for side zippers).
It fit perfectly.
Looking in the mirror, Kagome was amazed at how grown-up she looked. Okay, sure, she was 23 years old, but even to her closest circle of friends, it seemed she was always the youngest, always the "kid sister." No one would mistake her for a kid in this.
This would have been way too short on Kikyou, she mused, noting how the hem fell perfectly at her ankles. Kikyou was a good four or five inches taller than she was. All well and good that she rejected this one, then.
That little stab of guilt started weedling its way in. Thoughts about what Kikyou would say when she found out, what would happen if Kikyou needed her while she was out on the town…
She shook her head, returning to look at her own reflection, and gave a slight smile.
Miroku's peaceful slumber was interrupted abruptly by something fist-sized and hard colliding with his left cheekbone. "Gah! What the fuck-" he muttered, sitting up, then crumpling in pain at his own pounding head.
"Shit, sorry. Someone's texting you," Inuyasha's voice called from across the room. Miroku screwed his eyes shut and picked up what he now knew to be his phone.
It was Sango, finally responding to those texts he'd sent her last night.
Wait. What had he sent her, again? He scrolled through his sent messages.
"Aw, jeez," he muttered, "How drunk did I get?"
"You're still in your suit from last night. What does that tell you?" Inuyasha approached him, wearing what looked like workout clothes and offering him a bottle of water.
"I texted Sango last night and asked her to marry me."
"Did she say yes?" Inuyasha smirked and took a sip of his own water.
Miroku glared at him.
"Hey, don't get mad at me," Inuyasha said, holding up his hands, "I had to get you out of there before you killed that bartender."
"What bartender?"
"The one you accused of hiding Sango from you. You said, and I quote, 'It's all a big conspiracy to keep her away from me, man.'"
"What the fuck."
"Yeah, that's what I said. Where would he have kept her hidden, anyway?"
Miroku groaned and buried his face in his hands.
"Honestly though," Inuyasha said, "You're obviously a little hung up. Why not just ask the girl out?"
"Because I was her boss?"
"Not anymore you're not. Just tell her you're into her and you'd like to make sweet, sweet love to her."
"Easy for you to say," Miroku grumbled, "You can get any woman you want."
Inuyasha shrugged. "I don't want any woman."
"Fucking boy scout."
"Alright," Inuyasha said, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly, "Let's not fucking do this. We've got the Hollywood Film Awards tomorrow. Let's just try not to kill each other before then."
"You're going to that?" Miroku looked a little bemused. "Kikyou isn't."
"Hey," Inuyasha said with a shrug, "Free booze. I'm not turning that down. And neither are you."
"Are you kidding me?" Miroku said with a groan, sinking back into the couch and covering his eyes with one hand, "I'm never drinking again."
"I'll remember you said that tomorrow. Want a Hangover Special?"
"Fuck yes."
"Nazuna!"
"You're going to the HFA's?" Sango exclaimed through a mouthful of cheeseburger, her eyes wide, "With Kouga Okami?"
Kagome and Sango were sitting at good old In-N-Out Burger, on the patio, enjoying lunch and milkshakes, and after Sango had related the rather hilarious texts she'd gotten from Miroku last night, Kagome had opened up with some news of her own.
"Where the hell did this come from?" Sango said after swallowing a sip of her soda.
"No idea," Kagome said with a shrug, "He just said he felt like we hit it off in the limo last night, and Ayame will be out of town, and he doesn't want to go stag."
"Of course he doesn't. Kouga Okami without a woman on his arm? Civilization would fall," Sango said flatly.
"So I said I would," Kagome said, looking a little defiant, "And I mean, why not? I've never been to one of these without having to hold Kikyou's purse. She'll be at home all evening pretending not to watch it on TV. You know, because these awards aren't important."
Sango giggled. "Well, you'll see me there, of course, and Miroku and Inuyasha. We can all enjoy the open bar, at least."
Kagome smiled. "Yeah, and for once I can say no to being asked to run to the bar and grab a mineral water."
"Huh," Miroku said, looking at his phone, "Well, how about that."
"What?" Inuyasha asked, cuing up for his next shot on the pool table.
"Kouga's going to the HFA's...with Kagome."
Inuyasha jerked forward. The cue ball shot forward, straight into the rear pocket. Scratch.
"What?" he said, conscious of keeping his voice nonchalant.
"Yeah," Miroku said, brow furrowed in bemusement, "Apparently he texted her this morning and asked her. Ayame's out of the picture, for some reason. Sango just texted me about it."
Kagome was going with Kouga Okami to the Hollywood Film Awards? Going with a man who was probably the most notorious womanizer since Casanova? Inuyasha felt a little out of sorts. Maybe he was getting sick.
"She can't go with him!" he spat, "She's too young for him! It's like-it's like cradle robbing!"
"Inuyasha, she's 23. She's all of five years younger than you. That equals a grown-ass adult who can take care of herself. Let her have some fun for once." Miroku lined up for his own shot.
"Why are you so calm about this?" Inuyasha snapped, gripping the edges of the billiard table to steady himself, "Kouga's literally the worst person for her to go out with! It will make everyone think-"
Think she's cheap. Think she's easy. Think she's just some desperate starlet. But she's none of those things. She's Kagome.
"Like I said," Miroku said evenly, making his shot and sending one of Inuyasha's solid-color balls into the side pocket, "Grown-ass adult. Nothing we can do about it."
Inuyasha knew he was right, but god damn did it boil his blood.
"Your turn," said Miroku, smiling that insufferable way.
"Fuck it," Inuyasha said, clattering the pool cue to the floor and stomping towards his bedroom, "I gotta make a phone call."
Oh dear. The love triangle has turned into a love rectangle, it seems. Surely most of you saw that coming when Kouga was introduced into the story to begin with, though. Poor Inuyasha. He has so many feels and doesn't know what half of them mean. What a lovable dunce. - meggz0rz