The It Couple
Chapter Twelve
Kagome knew that having Kouga Okami show up on their driveway to pick her up would look just a little bit suspicious to Kikyou, so she texted him and told him to pick her up from the salon near the Beverly Hilton, which happened to be the venue for the awards ceremony.
She and Sango spent what felt like an entire day getting completely overhauled - hair, makeup, nails, everything. It all felt so weird to Kagome. Sure, she had been to the creme de la creme of Hollywood events, but always with her staff pass, and always wearing whatever hair and makeup she could think up herself.
When the makeup artist finished with her and turned her around to look at herself in the mirror, Kagome was stunned. So this is contouring. She looked like herself, but...enhanced was the best way to put it. Her eyes, already quite large and blue to begin with, were painted with various shades of sharkskin and silver. The lipstick was muted, almost the color of her natural lips, to bring the focus back to her eyes.
"Holy shit," Sango said from her own makeup chair, wincing a little as her hair was pulled into the curling iron, " You clean up well! Kouga won't know what hit him."
Kagome grinned. She'd probably never get to do this again, so she might as well enjoy looking like a famous person for once. Screw Inuyasha.
"Inuyasha?" Miroku said, entering the master bedroom that dwarfed his entire condo, "I've got our tuxes. Yours, of course, is the flashy, fashion-y one."
Inuyasha, fresh from his shower with his hair still damp, grabbed the hanger without a word. Miroku sighed. This was going to be a long night if Inuyasha's foul mood didn't let up.
"Listen," Miroku said as Inuyasha disappeared behind the bathroom door, "We should probably go over your acceptance speech tonight. You know, since we already know you're winning and all."
Still no answer.
"I was thinking," Miroku continued, taking his own tux off the hanger and starting to change into it, "You need to mention Kikyou in your acceptance speech."
"Hell no." There. That got a response.
"Oh come on," Miroku said, grinning at himself in the mirror, "For one, she's your leading lady, and one should always thank one's leading lady. For another thing, it might be nice to show the public that you're mature enough to let bygones be bygones."
There was a crashing sound. Something had just been knocked off the bathroom counter and onto the floor. Sounded like glass.
"Careful," Miroku said, tying his bowtie with a practiced precision.
Inuyasha stormed out of the bathroom, wearing his dress shirt and carrying his suit jacket, which was black with splashes of ruby red on the lapels. Very high-fashion, but that was Inuyasha's style.
"You're going to tear your suit with all that energy," Miroku said, "You probably want to look your best tonight, considering all the company we'll be keeping."
Inuyasha lunged, grabbing him by the vest. "Say one more fucking shitty remark," he hissed in a low voice, "I will rip your fucking head off. So go ahead. Do it."
Miroku glared back, gripping his friend's wrists and shoving him off. "Don't turn this shit around on me," he snapped, "I get that you're not in a good place right now, but we've got a fucking ceremony to go to and you need to get yourself together. The show must go on. At least get yourself an Oscar out of all this-"
"I. Understand," Inuyasha ground out, "Now stop. Pushing."
Miroku threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender, still frowning. He turned and left the room, pulling out his phone as he did so.
"How are things on your end?" he texted Sango.
A few moments later, the phone buzzed in reply. "Just fine. Little Cinderella is going to the ball. She looks amazing, btw."
"Great. Operation Evil Stepmother now in effect."
"...Did you just make that up?"
"Of course." Miroku chuckled to himself as he hit "send," then hesitated a moment and furiously typed a second message.
"So what kind of underwear are you wearing tonight?"
"I will choke the life out of you, so help me."
Miroku grinned, pocketing his phone. "Please do," he said to himself.
"Well, look at you." Kouga's face was bemused, a cigarette dangling from his lip. He was standing by the open limo door on the street corner, seemingly oblivious to the excited passersby staring and pointing at the very famous man standing in open public.
It was a good thing Sango wasn't here anymore, Kagome mused. She would have taken the photo op for all it was worth; luckily she had grabbed her own taxicab and headed to the event early, not batting an eye when she had to get the cabbie's help arranging her insanely long dress train in such a way to avoid it getting dirty. "I'll give you a very, very good tip," she'd said to the man with a wink, and he'd just about turned to putty in her hands.
Kagome tried to avoid blushing as Kouga took her hand and made her do a single spin. The dress funneled out around her, its magnificent shimmery blue color sparkling in the neon lamplight. Her hair was pulled into a wonderful arrangement of large, perfect black curls. She felt like a total badass.
Kouga, dressed in a simple tux with dark blue accents (that matched her dress, just as he'd promised), brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You're a lot taller than you were on Friday," he said with a wink.
"Five-inch heels will do that," Kagome grinned, kicking up a leg and showing him her silver peep-toe pump. The shoes were a half-size too big; Sango had insisted, saying it would make standing on a red carpet for over an hour a little more bearable.
"Hmm," Kouga said, removing his cigarette from his mouth and standing there, arms folded, giving her a once-over, "Something's missing."
Kagome looked at him, down at herself, then back at him with a questioning expression.
With a flourish, he produced a large velvet box and tossed it at her.
"Holy shit," she said upon opening it.
A diamond necklace with ornate stones, and matching dangling earrings. This was worth more than her dress, shoes, and lifeblood combined. Never in her life had she felt more nervous than she did holding this in her hands.
"You didn't buy this, right? It's only on loan," she said quickly, running her fingers over the jewels nervously.
"If I bought it, it's because you deserve it," Kouga said huskily, reaching to pull the necklace out of the box and put it on her.
"You didn't," Kagome said weakly, feeling a little faint as he clasped the necklace behind her neck.
"Alright, I didn't, it's on loan," Kouga said with a chuckle, "You're too smart for my money."
Thank goodness it's not his money, Kagome thought, hands trembling a little as she put the earrings on.
"Okay, angel face," Kouga said, stepping back into the limo and holding out his hand, "You look good to go. Shall we?"
For a brief moment, Kagome closed her eyes and remembered Inuyasha's voice, screaming at her.
"...his intentions are pure and wholesome, are they?"
She shook her head slightly, took Kouga's hand, and slid into the limo less than gracefully. Hey, who could blame her? This skirt was huge and weighed a ton!
"And here we are, ladies and gentlemen, coming to you live from the red carpet of the Hollywood Film Awards!" Yura Kaminoke was in rare form tonight, dressed to the nines and ready to talk fashion. Inuyasha wanted to walk past, of course, but Miroku gently nudged him in the ribs and gave him that infuriating 'I'm-your-agent-now-go-dance-like-a-little-trained-dog' look.
"Inuyasha, you're looking sharp! What are you wearing?"
"McQueen," he said, smiling into the cameras and giving a cheeky little wave, "Custom-made."
"I'd expect nothing less from you," Yura said with a wink, "So tell us, you've received the Hollywood Actor Award tonight for your performance in 'The Red Robe,' which hits theatres this Christmas. I know this is your third HFA, but how does it feel to have your performance rewarded this time around?"
Make that the first of about eight thousand times this same question will be asked for the next four months. "It always feels like such an honor," Inuyasha's tone was markedly sincere, "So many people go through their entire careers without getting recognized, and I'm very, very lucky to be able to work in this business, so I try to always keep that in mind."
"Yes, ladies, he's humble and relatable!" Yura turned to the cameras, throwing her arm around Inuyasha's shoulders (he grunted and forced a grin on his face), "So my next question is, who's your date this evening?"
"My agent," Inuyasha said flatly.
"...Ah," Yura said slightly dejectedly, her gaze following back to where Miroku was standing behind them, "Well, nothing like a guys' night out, right? Rumor has it, though, you'll be taking a certain costar and old flame of yours around the awards circuit next month; can you give us a comment on that?"
Inuyasha wanted to tell her just where, precisely, she could stick those rumors, but a look from Miroku from over Yura's shoulder kept him in publicity mode. "I can't confirm anything at this time," he said, hoping that would be sufficient.
Who was he kidding, this was Yura Kaminoke. "Not even a little hint for our viewers whether or not we can count on a possible reconciliation of everyone's favorite It Couple?"
"I mean," Inuyasha said, struggling for a diplomatic answer, "never say never, right?"
Yura looked about ready to piss her pants with excitement. What was the deal with these people?
"Let's move on to your role in the film. You play a Roman gladiator tasked with protecting a beautiful young courtesan across the war-torn lands of ancient Syria. What made this project so attractive to you in the first place?"
The fact that my then-fiancee wanted to do it. "Definitely it was the opportunity to work with Mr. Myoga again. We had done a play together when I was young, and it was great to be able to see him again and fall right back into that working relationship." This was at least half-true; Myoga had directed a very young Inuyasha in one of his first acting roles in Hollywood, but the play had closed very quickly and Inuyasha had had very few fond memories of it except for Kagome sitting in the audience every rehearsal, doing her homework while Kikyou was at a part-time job. They used to make faces and throw things at each other from the stage to the front row, and Myoga had eventually gotten furious and banned Kagome from waiting inside the theatre.
A half-smile found its way to his face, then was quashed almost immediately by a cold dose of reality. She hated him now, didn't she? "You're bad for me," she had said. What a thing to say. Was this what he got for trying to look out for her? For trying to be her friend?
"Inuyasha?"
Oh, shit. Yura had asked a question and was waiting expectantly for an answer.
"Sorry," he said, turning on the charm again, ignoring the dull look Miroku was giving him in the background, "Can you repeat the question? It's loud in here."
Miroku accompanied Inuyasha through about two more interviews before deeming it probably okay to leave the idiot on his own, so he took to walking the red carpet casually, searching for a certain someone in a designer gown. What color was mauve, anyway?
He spotted a familiar neck and back (he'd become intimately familiar with how she looked that way, not that he'd ever admit it) and walked up almost animatedly. So mauve was apparently a grayish-purple. Damn woman should have just said grayish-purple.
"There you are," Miroku said, coming up behind Sango and touching the small of her bare back (incidentally, his vote was that every dress she wore from now on should be backless), "How's tricks?"
Sango gently ducked out of his touch and turned to shake his hand for the TV cameras. "Good to see you again, Mr. Houshi," she said loudly.
"What's this Mr. Houshi shit-" He stopped at the urgent look on her face.
"Miroku Houshi," said an all-too-familiar growl. Miroku turned.
"Randy!" he said, grabbing Warner's hand exaggeratedly and shaking it, plastering a huge smile on his face, "How have you been?"
Warner, in turn, squeezed Miroku's hand back so hard he swore he heard his own fingers pop. "Get out of my sight," Warner said in his raspy voice, "You get one warning."
"Now, now, Randy," Miroku said, yanking his hand out of the studio executive's meaty grip, "What was it we were talking about on Friday-"
"My wife is here," Warner hissed, "And you will stay away from her, or I'll-"
"Say no more, say no more," Miroku said with a casual shrug, "We'll steer clear of each other as much as possible. Wouldn't want to sour our new working relationship, would we?"
Warner glared at him but said nothing further. Miroku glanced at Sango next to him. Her face was tranquil, but her eyes betrayed a look of concern.
Miroku raised a casual hand. "See you around, Sango. Fantastic job with this red carpet, by the way, it looks great."
And he walked off, smile dropping as soon as he was out of sight.
Time to find Inuyasha and get him in the building as soon as possible. Miroku needed another drink. What else was new?
"You ready?" Kouga asked. The limo was pulling up in the queue, and they were fast approaching the red carpet, with its blazing spotlights and glittery people all grouped out front. The photographer's pit was a flurry of flashes and activity, as usual.
"Yeah, I think so," Kagome said, awkwardly arranging the cascade of curls around her face, "Do I-do I have lipstick on my teeth?" She bared her grin at Kouga, who blinked in surprise.
"You know," he said, leaning on his elbow, "you're nothing like the other girls around here."
"Yeah, don't I know it. Lipstick?"
"I don't see any. You're good." Kouga flashed a smile and tucked a curl behind her ear, then took her hand. Kagome felt herself getting a little flustered and wasn't sure what to do, so she just went to turn and open the limo door.
"Wait," Kouga said, gently tugging on her arm and pulling her close.
Whoa whoa whoa whoa hold it.
"Um," Kagome said, ready to yank her arm back, then Kouga opened the limo door on his side instead, the one facing away from the gathered crowds.
"In that dress," Kouga said, "you should probably get out over here. Lots of fabric to maneuver. Don't want to risk tripping, right, angel face?"
Kagome almost audibly sighed in delight. "Yeah," she said, and let him help her out of the car.
Almost immediately upon walking up to get past the gates, Kagome felt her stomach tie up in knots. This was different than all the other times she'd done this; the eyes would be on her now. Wasn't this what she had wanted?
Yes, it was.
And yet, some feeling in the back of her mind was almost dragging her back, making her limbs heavier and her neck hurt with tension.
Curse her stupid brain. Of course he would be the first face she saw in her mind's eye right now. She felt like slapping herself in the face to rid herself of the annoying thoughts, but then again, there were a shitload of cameras flashing in her face right now; it might be a little hard to explain that away.
"Kouga! Over here!" It was that fashion reporter, Yura Kaminoke, the one who always asked Kikyou what she was wearing, what her daily skincare routine was, all that jazz. Kagome wondered that Yura's viewers didn't get tired of hearing Kikyou's beauty regimen every red carpet event, but then, that was one of the weird things about celebrity.
"Come on," Kouga said, shoving Kagome's arm into the crook of his own and starting over to Yura.
"Oh, I don't know about-"
"No 'I don't knows', Kagome. Not tonight," Kouga said, flashing her a charming grin, "Tonight, you're just as famous as all the rest of us, okay?"
How was it so easy for him to treat her like an equal? He seemed so easygoing and almost proud to have her on his arm as his date for the evening. It was such a refreshing change that Kagome almost stammered like an idiot before closing her mouth and smiling.
"Okay."
"Welcome back to the Hollywood Film Awards! And look who I have here with me now, it's the silver screen's ultimate action star, Kouga Okami! Kouga, who is this charming young woman here with you?"
"A close, personal friend of mine. And we're both wearing Oscar de la Renta tonight. Doesn't she look stunning?"
"She does indeed!"
From the next room, Naraku stepped out of the shower, hair wrapped in a towel, to hear the sound of something shattering against the TV in the den.
A voice rang out in a shrill cry.
"What is Kagome doing on TV!"
"Alright, everyone, broadcast starts in twenty minutes, so please take your seats as soon as possible," the loudspeaker sounded, and there was a bustling noise as the auditorium full of the rich and famous meandered to their assigned locations.
Inuyasha and Miroku were already seated at their table, both about two drinks deep at this point. "You're a bad influence," Inuyasha said, and immediately felt a stabbing pain in his chest at the way it sounded even now.
"Yeah, well," Miroku said, "at least they've outlawed smoking in this ballroom, otherwise I'd be half a pack down at this point."
"Hello, gents," Sango said, appearing from behind Inuyasha and squeezing his shoulder once in greeting before moving to sit next to Miroku, her great long skirt held up with one hand.
"Sango," Inuyasha said in acknowledgement. Miroku simply looked at her.
"Whew," Sango said, flopping into her chair somewhat unceremoniously. She looked a little out of breath. Inuyasha recalled when Miroku had had that job; he'd always looked three sheets to the wind by the time the actual ceremonies got going for any awards show.
"Here," Miroku said, handing Sango a dark red cocktail, "Strongest one I could hustle."
"You're a lifesaver," Sango said, taking it from his hands. Inuyasha noted that her fingers intertwined with Miroku's for a brief moment but said nothing.
"Look who it is," Miroku said, nodding towards the ballroom doors.
Sango turned and smiled. "Doesn't she look great?"
Inuyasha knew immediately what they meant, downed the rest of his drink, and looked up.
Christ Almighty.
That blue dress... where on earth did she find it? He supposed it must have been one of Kikyou's discards. That jewelry definitely hadn't been hers, though; quite a lot of ice around that neck for one evening.
For some reason, it was really hard to reconcile that messy, tomboyish kid sister look with what Inuyasha saw before him now. Sure, he'd seen Kagome dolled up before, but always in her own, do-it-yourself way, charming but not overwhelming.
This was certainly overwhelming. Inuyasha gulped.
He realized Miroku and Sango were looking over at him like sharks who smelled chum, and he quickly cleared his throat and composed himself.
"Come on, gorgeous, our table's over there," Kouga said, gently leading her along. Kagome followed, feeling even more self-conscious than before with the creme-de-la-creme surrounding her. She could glance every which way and name at least five famous people just within twenty feet. This was definitely where it was getting weird for her.
"Holy shit, there's Tom Hanks," Kagome muttered so only Kouga could hear her.
"Yeah?" Kouga said, like he hadn't even noticed, "Come on, we're right here." He pulled out her chair for her and helped her into it. "You want something to drink?"
"Sure," Kagome said gratefully. Getting a little numb might help right now.
Kouga waved a waiter over and whispered to him, then sent him on his way. Kagome busied herself with trying to set her pearl-encrusted clutch in between all the centerpieces and water glasses on the table.
She looked up at Kouga, who was peering around the room bemusedly, and she followed his gaze and…
And.
Her eyes locked with a pair of amber ones she knew all too well, and her stomach flipflopped around and she felt a little weak.
He was sitting about three tables away next to Sango and Miroku (who, she somewhat registered, were trying to wave at her in greeting, but she didn't respond). His face was impassive at first, but the longer she held his gaze, the more his brow furrowed, and finally he snapped his glance away, face twisted in anger.
Kagome felt about six inches tall all of a sudden.
"What's up?" Kouga said as the waiter quickly placed two cocktails in front of them on the white tablecloth. Kagome seized hers and quickly took a sip.
"You're going to spill all over your dress," Kouga said, whipping out a cloth napkin and laughingly dabbing at her chin, "Of course, if you want to try something involving sticky champagne cocktails later, I wouldn't turn you down."
Kagome couldn't help it and dissolved into nervous laughter, which Kouga returned.
"Did I tell you already that you're a vision of loveliness?" Kouga said as their laughter died down.
"You did," Kagome said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, "I wish you'd stop though. It's embarrassing!"
"You really don't get complimented much, do you?"
"Not really," she said with a sheepish grin.
He took her hand and held it aloft, then pulled her in closer to whisper in her ear. "There are tons of people staring at you. And it's not because you stick out, trust me. It's because you look like you belong here."
Kouga kissed her hand then, and intertwined his fingers with her own before dropping their joined hands below the table. Kagome didn't pull away, but she did cast a brief glance back over her shoulder in Inuyasha's direction.
Sango was sitting there watching Kouga and Kagome interact, her chin in her hand, a drink in the other one, and Miroku's hand surreptitiously on her thigh under the table. She nudged him with her foot and gave him a look that said both "cool it, idiot, everyone's watching" and "I will deal with you later but good."
He removed his hand gently, but his smile remained.
Inuyasha, however, was glaring daggers at the couple across the room. His knuckles were white where he gripped his glass of whiskey.
"Inuyasha," Sango said gently, thinking she should probably be the one to speak and not Miroku, since Miroku's track record with Inuyasha of late had been less than stellar, "Are you alright?"
Their famous friend didn't answer for a moment, then seemed to relax some, releasing the death grip on his glass. "Yeah," he said, "just a little sick to my stomach, is all."
"Well, buck up," Miroku said good-naturedly, speaking to Inuyasha but staring lovingly at Sango (he really needed to cut that out; it was going to blow their cover), "You've got an acceptance speech to give."
"And accepting the Hollywood Actor Award for 2018 is…Inuyasha Takahashi!"
There was an uproarious round of applause. Kagome had known this whole night was building up to this, and where she once had been so excited and proud for him, now she just felt ill.
Across the room, Inuyasha stood, flashing that million-dollar smile, and buttoned the bottom two buttons on his designer jacket. As he made his way to the stage, he seemed to detour on purpose to take himself right past their table.
Kagome opened her mouth to wish him congratulations, just to be polite, just to try and mend the rift she'd caused even a little, to reassure him that really, she was all right after all…
He collided with Kouga's elbow on his way past, not in an obvious way to anyone else, but enough for Kagome to gasp a little. Kouga grunted, then laughed mirthfully, obviously enjoying the situation.
"Glad to see you're having fun," Inuyasha said, his face a mask of distant politeness, and his gaze flashed in Kagome's direction for a fraction of a second.
Any shame or apology welling in her chest immediately turned back to stone-cold anger, and she narrowed her eyes contemptuously as he continued on to the platform. He accepted the trophy from waiting hands and turned to the podium to speak.
"Thank you all so very much," he began.
"Hey," Kagome said, leaning over Kouga's shoulder to whisper intently, "I want to leave. Now."
Kouga blinked at her, then smirked. "Sure," he said, "Where to?"
"So really, from the bottom of my heart, I want to thank everyone involved in this project. Mr. Myoga, all the crew, the supporting cast…" Might as well. Whore yourself out a little. Everyone's doing it. "...and of course, my leading lady, Kikyou Higurashi."
There was an excited whoop from the audience. He wanted to groan in disgust. Any other time he would have looked offstage to Kagome waiting in the wings and sent her a look only she could read.
His eyes fell on the table she was at.
Or wasn't at. Not anymore. She and Kouga had disappeared.
He gripped the edge of the podium, his hair falling over his eyes for a brief moment.
What are you even worrying about? It's like everyone said. She's not yours to worry about. She never was, and never will be. You should be more concerned with her sister, you know, the woman you still love?
"That's all I have to say. Thank you again for this honor." He held the statuette aloft, smiling as cameras flashed, then walked offstage as quickly as his legs could possibly carry him.
This chapter took FOREVER but it ended up being fun to write! Such drama. Many drama. Wow.
Special thanks to the WONDERFUL, FABULOUS File 13 for her BEAUTIFUL fan art! It is now the cover image for this story and I love it so so so much! I have never had anyone draw me fan art for any stories in the past, and it feels so amazing and flattering to have some now!
All of you are great and I am so happy you seem to be enjoying this story! I promise not to keep you waiting as long for the next chapter. I hope the additional length here makes up for the three day wait!
Please review if you can spare the time! Thank you so so so much from the bottom of my poor dead witchy heart! - meggz0rz