The It Couple
Chapter Fifty-Five
"Sango, honey."
Sango murmured and lifted her head from Miroku's bedside, where she'd been leaned over taking a much-needed snooze. Her hand was still in his, and even as he slept, with that damned teddy bear sitting atop his chest, his fingers were still locked with hers.
Her mom was standing there, clearly taking in the two of them with a misty-eyed smile on her face. She looked just as worn out as Sango was.
"I just got a phone call from the police. They want me to come in and answer some questions. About your father."
Sango sat bolt upright. "I'll come with you."
Her mom held up a hand and shook her head. "Not a chance. Not right now. You've got bigger things to worry about. I'm sure they'll want to speak to you eventually, but they get me and only me for the moment. And I'm going to tell them everything. Your father's being charged with attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon. But I'm going to also let them know just what sort of hell he put me through before you and that wonderful girl - Kagome, wasn't it? - arrived."
Sango felt her face twist in a pained grimace. "Oh, Mom, I -"
"Don't you worry," her mom said with a wink, which turned into a bit of a wince as she pointed at the purpling bruise lining her cheek and jaw, "One look at this and it'll reinforce those charges, for sure, if not add a few more. I'm done being the battered wife who puts her kids in danger by believing someone when they apologize and say they'll change."
"Don't do that," Sango said, tears brimming in her eyes, "Don't blame yourself, Mom. It was him. It was him alone. He manipulated all of us for years, and we all know it. He was nice, and then he wasn't. And on and on."
"Doesn't change the fact that I could have ended this years ago and I didn't. And now it's my chance to put things right. To keep him in prison forever. I owe you and Kohaku that much."
Sango wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "What do you want me to do? How can I help?"
"You can stay right here," her mom said gently, laying a careworn hand on her daughter's shoulder, "and hold this young man's hand."
Sango looked down at Miroku and put her other hand on top of the one he was holding.
"Is he your boyfriend?"
Sango felt another tear drop as she hesitated, then nodded, a small smile on her face. "I think so."
"Well, you'd better hang on to him, young lady," her mother said while walking to the door, "That one's definitely a keeper if he'll take a stab wound just to get you out of danger. And tell him I want to buy him dinner sometime."
Sango laughed softly, not taking her eyes off Miroku's sleeping face. "I will."
She knew the cops would want to speak to her later, and now, looking at him, she didn't care as much.
"One thing, Mom," she said, and her mother paused at the doorway, "Leave Kagome out of it if you can."
Her mom smiled understandingly. "Can't afford the bad press to be connected with a scandal like this, is that it?"
"Something like that," Sango mumbled.
"She was never even there. Who's Kagome, anyway?"
Sango smiled and relaxed forward onto the bedside, pressing a small kiss to the back of Miroku's hand and letting her eyes flutter shut again.
The second they were in the house, Kagome put down her duffel bag, kicked out of her boots, took off her leather jacket, and stood there for a moment in the palacious living room. Then her knees buckled, and she would have collapsed to the tile floor if not for a pair of strong arms that immediately seized her and held her in place.
Inuyasha leaned his chin over her shoulder, whispering "Shhh, it's okay," as she turned and flung her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest and letting the sobs escape. This had been the craziest day of her life, and god, that was saying something.
She felt him lift her, almost as if she were a child, and carry her over to the couch, where he put her down ever so gently, brushing the hair out of her eyes and the tears off of her cheeks.
"I got an idea," he said, a mischievous grin on his face, and he disappeared almost instantly, causing her to jump at the change of weight ratios on the couch and shake her head, blink herself back alert.
He returned momentarily, stumbling over black electrical cords, some of them held in his teeth, his arms overburdened with grey plastic ornaments.
"What are you - " Kagome started to say, and then she realized what he was carrying. "Is that - "
"Yep." He turned and flashed her that million-dollar smile before turning back to the TV and fumbling around in back of it. "Not that I remember that well how to plug it in, you always used to do it."
"Here," Kagome said, a soft smile rising to her lips as she rose from the couch and elbowed him gently aside, "Let me."
As she connected the wires, peering through the lack of proper lighting behind the television screen, she felt his arms close around her waist and grip her tightly. "Inuyasha, I'm trying to fix the stupid-"
"I know, but you're just so damn cute," he said, and she felt his head close over her shoulder again, "Can't help it."
Kagome felt her heart almost overflow with love for the man standing behind her. It only took a moment's thought, and then she dropped the wires and let her arms curl around his, leaning back into his touch, laying her head back on his chest.
"I don't know if it's weird, saying this now," Inuyasha mumbled, and she could see the flush of pink on his cheeks and god it's just so cute should I feel bad right now with everything else going on, "But you should know. They say hindsight's always twenty-twenty, and I totally get what they mean now, because…And I mean, it's my fault for not realizing it sooner, and..." He faltered, digging his chin a little deeper into her shoulder, his face growing even redder.
"Hey," Kagome said softly, turning in his arms and ruffling his hair, the way he'd always done to her, "We don't have to go into all this now. You set out to cheer me up, and you have. What do you want to play, Mario Kart or Super Smash?"
She definitely wanted to hear what he had to say. But not now. The meaning would be much duller today.
So she would play video games, with the man she loved sitting right beside her, and just turn her brain off for a while.
Considering what she had to wake up and do tomorrow, it was a welcome idea.
"We should probably talk, huh?"
He watched Sango's sleeping form jerk out of slumber and almost fall off her perch on the edge of his bed. She caught herself in time, quickly glancing to him to see if he'd noticed, and he'd by this time strategically placed his gaze elsewhere, an easy smile on his face.
"Houshi," Sango said, and there was such a sweet, loving tone to her voice that he almost forgot himself, but dammit, he wanted answers, so he had to play hardball. Okay, a very mild form of hardball. The easiest, squishiest game of hardball he'd ever played in his life. But still. He was a rock. Unmovable. Well, as unmovable as he could be right now. He was still feeling wonderfully flighty. Light as a bubble. Floating toward the ceiling. Maybe doing a cute little flip once or twice on his way up to the heavens.
Focus, Miroku. You have a conversation that needs having.
"So you've had an abusive dad this whole time," he said, musing it over out loud, his eyes still on the terrible, terrible watercolor painting hanging slightly askew on the wall in front of him.
He felt her flinch back slightly, and then out of the corner of his eye, she nodded mutely.
"Could've told me," he said, surprised at how frustrated he felt even with all these wonderful, wonderful painkilling drugs coursing through him, "We could have swapped stories."
"You mean you - " Sango looked horrified.
"Nah, my parents were nice," he said quietly, "And then they died. The foster homes weren't great." He paused and cast a wary eye at her, his mouth pressed into a thin line. "I would have volunteered this information to you freely, you understand. If you'd had half a heart to spill your guts just a little. It's not like I don't get it, Sango."
For once, Sango really and truly looked like she didn't have anything to say, any excuse to offer, any argument to snap back with. She sat back in her chair, staring at her lap, her hands clasped together. She seemed like she wanted to melt into the floor.
"Please don't hate me," she whispered.
"Babe, it's fine. You're an abused kid. You're gonna repress it and act like everything's fine. Honestly, I was expecting worse. I thought maybe you were an ex-con or there was some mobster boyfriend who kept trying to bring you back in the fold. This is simple. Frustratingly simple. I'm almost mad at myself for not figuring it out earlier."
He watched as she flicked a tear out of her eye, acting frustrated that it was there in the first place.
There was a moment of silence as he returned his gaze to that god-awful painting in front of him.
"So is he in jail?" he said finally.
Sango sniffled and nodded. "Mom went over there to make her statement a few hours ago. She's telling them everything. I'm sure they'll want to talk to both of us too, but Mom insisted on going first. It's like she's trying to make up for everything."
"Sweet of her," Miroku said. He didn't feel like volunteering any further analysis on that front.
"And then I'm going to make my statement. And with what I know, I can send him away for at least twenty years, if not more." Sango gritted her teeth a little and her knuckles turned whiter.
"He'll have fun in prison," Miroku said, "I still know a couple people in high places. All I gotta do is drop a few gentle hints, and boom, his life's a living hell the whole time. That should teach him how to play nice."
Sango nodded, glaring down at her clenched hands. "I'm done being the weak backslider. I want him to think about me and my mom and my little brother every single day for the rest of his life. I want us to be all he thinks about. And I never want to give him a second thought ever again."
"That's my girl." Miroku couldn't help it; she was making it difficult for him to lay motionless in this bed and pretend he was even a little angry with her. "And I'll help you. It's a hard road, breaking from your abuser. But I'm here for you, okay?"
She looked about ready to cry again. Damn, I am good.
"You - you really don't have to," she mumbled, her cheeks growing red as she looked anywhere but his eyes.
"Did I or did I not just get stabbed for you, woman?"
She flinched, and then she sent him an almost scandalized look, like she was surprised at the blunt way he was wording things.
"I think that pretty much answers whether or not I have to, right?" He sent her his most winning smile.
Sango didn't return it, furrowing her brow, half-confused and half-hurt. "You've already done so much, Houshi. I already owe you everything. You don't need to feel obligated or anything-"
"No, no, I'll find it within myself to dig you out somehow." Miroku closed his eyes, unable to keep the self-satisfied smirk off his face. "Although I'll keep in mind that you owe me everything. Sounds like something I can take advantage of sometime in the future."
When he reopened his eyes and looked at her, she had that familiar look of annoyance, eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised, lips pouting. Oh, there you are, you beautiful angel.
Before either of them could say anything more, Sango's phone buzzed. She glanced at it, grimaced, and sighed.
"What's up?" Miroku tried to crane his neck to see her phone screen, but at the angle she was at it was near impossible.
"The tabloids have started up. They're going after Kagome hard." She looked over the text in a hurry and glared. "This latest one's from our friend Yura. I just knew she couldn't resist. She's calling Kagome a homewrecker. And several other choice things. And then in the same breath she says there's no way to know for sure what the context of Inuyasha and Kagome's little dinner date was, and that her readers should wait with bated breath, because she'll share any news as soon as she gets it." Sango hissed, shaking her head, her eyes blazing. "Gotta love it. Doesn't care if she ruins a reputation or if the facts are even confirmed before she goes for the jugular. God bless modern journalism, am I right?"
"Any word from our beloved Kikyou?"
"No, she's staying silent. Guess she's taking my advice, then." Sango sighed and replaced her phone in her jacket pocket.
"Maybe she's learned her lesson after all and she'll learn to stay out of it?"
The look they both gave each other resembled both a half-smile and a wince.
Kagome was startled awake by a high-pitched squeal, and as she looked up from her (rather awkward) curled-up position on Inuyasha's living room couch, she hazily watched Nazuna clap a hand over her own mouth, eyes wide but with a delighted smile between her fingers.
"You're back!" Nazuna whispered, the sound muffled.
Kagome just gave her a sleepy smile and a wink as she held a finger to her lips, glancing over at Inuyasha, who was sprawled over the opposite end of the couch, his head hanging upside-down over the arm. The neglected Nintendo controller was on his chest, untouched since probably around three or four am last night when he'd finally just given up and let himself slump down into sleepyland.
Nazuna grinned and nodded, clearly too excited to hold herself together silently much longer, so she quickly made a bowl-and-spoon motion with her hands, clearly asking if Kagome wanted breakfast.
Kagome nodded and gave a thumbs up as she gingerly sat up on the couch, feeling her back cracking in places that probably weren't natural, but oh well. Nazuna tiptoed toward the kitchen, and once she crossed the threshold Kagome swore she heard a clap and another loud exclamation. Something sounding like "YES!" but she couldn't be sure.
She ran a hand over her face, shaking her head slightly to clear the rest of the sleep from her mind as she glanced over at the ridiculous, ungraceful, loudly-snoring, wonderful, gorgeous man on the couch beside her.
Should she wake him? She glanced at her phone. It was around eight am. She had to be up and about and out of the house by nine sharp if she was going to make that photoshoot call at Ayame's condo.
She decided against it and settled for gently tugging at his ankles (as gently as she could, anyway, he was heavy) until he was a bit further onto the couch proper, his head cradled by the arm now instead of bent over it. He stirred slightly, then turned onto his side and pressed his face into the leather surface, hugging it like a teddy bear.
Kagome pressed a featherlight kiss to his temple and rose to get all freshened up and ready. Time for another dig through the duffel bag to find a suitable outfit for the day. But then again, that was nothing new for her lately.
"Apartment number, please, and the security code." The voice sounded distorted, bored, and tired.
Kagome fumbled in her pocket for her phone, read off the code and the number, and announced herself. There was a few moments' silence and then the gate opened without another response. She drove through.
Yet another code to punch to get through the gate in front of the condominiums, and then another few moments' waiting while the door buzzer was answered. Kagome was ushered through to an elevator, which she was told to take straight to the top floor, and that Miss Ayame was expecting her.
She walked hesitantly into a foyer decorated in that typical richie-rich Hollywood style - stark white walls, minimalist accents, a few obviously expensive pieces scattered here and there, clearly meant to spark a conversation or two.
Kagome sighed. This told her nothing about Ayame's personality. She'd met the girl for a grand total of half an hour several months ago and Ayame hadn't seemed to keen to talk to her or even interested in who she was. But then again, perhaps Kagome hadn't been interested much in who Ayame was at that point. Or even in who I was, really. Ugh, stop, Kagome, we're getting a little too introspective here.
She shook her head slightly, her wild hair tossing about her shoulders, and then made her way to a nearby couch and sat down, setting her three cumbersome, oversized bags of equipment beside her.
There was about sixty seconds' worth of awkward, lonely silence, and then there was the distant clacking of high heels on the marble tile, coming from down the long hallway at the end of the room.
In walked Ayame, wearing a very fashionable tank top and a pair of designer jeans and those sky-high heels that models seemed to eat, sleep, and breathe in. She looked absolutely stunningly gorgeous, like she didn't have to go to any trouble to catch every eye in a room at any given moment. Kagome once again felt very, very short as she stood up with a friendly smile.
Ayame was looking at her phone screen for a few more seconds before she glanced up at Kagome. Her eyes widened as she seemed to realize who Kagome was. She gave a momentary bewildered glance back down at her phone, then back at Kagome's face, then back down to her phone.
Kagome immediately felt her stomach fill with nervous butterflies. Guess Sango wasn't kidding when she said the tabloids were already going after us. I'm obviously the news of the morning. Great way to start a working relationship here. 'Oh hi, I'm Kagome, remember me? I'm currently a branch of the most awkward and public love triangle since Brangelina.'
She was just about to try a friendly, "Hello, Ayame, it's been a while. Nice to see you again," when Ayame pocketed her phone and spoke first.
"Kagome, right?" The redhead's smile was wide and dazzling, and for a brief second reminded Kagome of that uncanny ability of her sister's to charm the world with a flash of white teeth. Ugh, I'm around way too many inhumanly gorgeous people all the time. However do I maintain any sense of self-esteem? "We met at the 'Blades of Blood and Glory' premiere a few months ago, didn't we?"
Kagome silently let out the breath she'd been holding and returned the grin. "We did."
"And now you get to take my pictures for a few hours until the studio press people get here," Ayame said with a wink, "I promise to not be too much trouble."
"I'm sure you're used to all this," Kagome said, pulling her notebook out of her ideas, "I was thinking just some simple editorial shots. You looking glamorous and relaxing on your balcony and all that." That was what the studio had wanted, and frankly, Kagome had no clue what else to do with her.
Was that a look of brief disappointment that crossed Ayame's face just now? Kagome couldn't be sure.
"Well," Ayame said, clasping her hands behind her back, "I guess I'm at your disposal then. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, maybe? I have a new French press I'm dying to show off."
Kagome accepted, and Ayame clacked off toward her kitchenette, her long red hair streaming behind her.
As she started unpacking the bags and setting up her softbox lighting rigs, Kagome's eyes fell upon a framed photo on a side table. Ayame and Kouga, leaning against what looked like some sort of bright red Italian supercar, Ayame doing her trademark pouty-lipped half smile, her head on Kouga's shoulder, as he looked away from the camera most artistically, that familiar smirk on his face.
Kagome frowned and glanced over her shoulder at the girl clattering away in the kitchen, but shrugged and went on her setup work.
Ayame returned momentarily, handed Kagome a mug of delicious-smelling coffee, and sat on the couch with a mug of her own, watching intently but saying nothing.
"This'll just take a minute," Kagome assured her, feeling much more awkward than she had only sixty seconds ago.
Ayame smiled and nodded, though there was something sad in her eyes as she seemed to study Kagome's every move. Kagome sat on her knees on the living room floor, connecting tripods together, checking bulbs, and feeling more self-conscious every minute. Should I say something? That I'm not after Kouga whatsoever, that I never was? Would that even make her feel better? How exclusive were they, anyway?
"I know what you're thinking," Ayame said, stirring her coffee, her gaze drifting over to the photo in the corner, "And no, I'm not angry if you and Kouga ever…" She trailed off, her eyes falling to the black surface of her coffee as she continued stirring.
"We didn't," Kagome said, stopping short and snapping her head to face Ayame, "I swear to you. We went as friends to the HFA's, and that was it. I know you might have seen me on Yura's show, and I promise you that was all clever editing."
She sighed and decided for the sake of her own dignity she would go ahead and spill to this girl, because why the hell not, the whole world was starting to figure it out anyway.
"I'm sure you've read some of the gossip blogs as of last night and this morning."
Ayame turned a little pink and gave a sheepish nod.
"Well," Kagome said, tightening the last of her tripods into position, "For once, they've got it right. Well, half of it anyway. Inuyasha and I are...well…"
Ayame's eyes were now the size of teacup saucers. "So you - and he - oh my gosh!"
"Yep." Kagome honestly was surprised that she felt a little better now. Admitting it was indeed the first step. All those crazy therapy gurus were right after all.
"So you and Kouga aren't - weren't - actually a thing?" Ayame looked confused and not a little bruised by all this. "From what he told me, he was super into you. Said you were the most interesting girl he'd ever met."
Geez, Kouga, what an asshole thing to say to a girl who's clearly got it bad for you. Ugh, who am I kidding, you probably didn't even notice she'd caught feelings. Kagome clenched her jaw. "I'm sure he was exaggerating," was all she could think to say.
"I mean, don't get me wrong," Ayame said, crossing her fabulous legs and sinking backward into her chair, shoulders hunched, "He and I were never...well...he doesn't seem to find me that interesting...he made it clear he wasn't looking for a relationship, and in the beginning I wasn't either, but then…"
She glanced up at Kagome, cheeks reddening again, and then looked away. "Sorry. I shouldn't be talking your ear off with all this. I mean, I thought I'd feel better if I heard from you that nothing happened, but…"
Ayame then placed her coffee mug on the table beside her, leaned forward and put her head in her palms. "But it actually makes me feel a little worse."
"Hey," Kagome said, reaching out to pat Ayame's knee very awkwardly, stumbling over her words, "If he doesn't realize what a great girl you are, then you don't need him. You're Ayame, for crying out loud. You're a Victoria's Secret Angel. And who is he?"
"The funniest, craziest man I ever met," Ayame said, tears springing to those perfect green eyes of hers, "I never had as much fun as I did when we were together."
Girl, you weren't supposed to answer that. You do have it bad. Kagome made a mental note to kick Kouga in the nads the next time she saw him.
"Hey, cheer up. It'll all be okay, one way or another, right?" Kagome sent the other girl a comforting smile and wished she could think of more to say than just tired old cliches right now.
Ayame hesitated, then nodded, wiping her eyes. "Sorry," she said, "Now you'll have a photoshoot with a girl all red-eyed and puffy. Blech."
"Don't even worry about it. Hair, wardrobe, and makeup are on their way. I just wanted to get a chance to chat before we got started. I'm new to this whole editorial portrait stuff, but I thought it was best to have a friendly conversation so we're more comfortable with each other."
Ayame smiled. "Some of the print photogs I work with could take a few notes from you."
Kagome returned the smile. "Or I just suck at this. Guess we'll find out?"
That got her a laugh.
"Well," Kagome said, standing up, "Where would you like to shoot? What's your favorite room in the house?"
Ayame's laughter died in her throat and she was back to being bright red in the face. There was a pause. "Uh...the living room! Right here!"
Kagome looked around at the sparse decor, the lack of any real personal touches, and then bored a stare into Ayame's face, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"If you're sure…" Kagome said, "Well, before we get started, where's your bathroom so I can wash my hands before I start messing around with my camera lenses?"
Ayame pointed down the hallway. "Last door on the right. I guess I'll go grab a few cucumber slices for my eyes before the cavalry gets here." She clacked back toward the kitchen.
Kagome quickly washed her hands, dried them with a towel, and opened the bathroom door very, very quietly, peering out to see if Ayame was in sight. The sounds of the fridge door opening and closing, and a kitchen chair being pulled into place, told her Ayame was still preoccupied.
Knowing she shouldn't be doing this, but hey, fuck it, Kagome tiptoed across the hallway and opened the last door on the left.
Her eyes widened as she took in the room's contents. It wasn't a bedroom like she'd suspected, but more of a rec room. And oh, goodness, was it a sight to behold.
Kagome couldn't help the mischievous grin as she silently closed the door again and returned to the living room.
The hair, wardrobe, and makeup people arrived about five minutes later. The wardrobe woman was clearly holding several fantastic-looking full-length designer ensembles for Kagome and Ayame to pick and choose from.
Ayame pulled the cucumber slices from her eyes and started toward the outfits, looking a little downtrodden but clearly prepared to do her job to the best of her ability.
"Hey, Ayame," Kagome said casually, "I have a different idea for today's shoot. Let me know what you think."
She told her, and Ayame at first looked scandalized, then embarrassed, then a little hopeful. "I mean, it's very, very different. Do you think the studio would approve?"
"Right now," Kagome said, checking her battery power, "I don't give a damn what the studio approves or not. They asked for me as the photographer, they got me. And I think we should go this route. Something different. Something actually interesting. Or do you want to sit around in this living room in evening gowns again?"
Ayame's smile was, once again, dazzling. "No, no," she said, "Your idea is way more fun."
Bet you guys were expecting some Mean Girl shit, huh? Not today! Ayame's surprisingly much cooler than we thought she was. Don't judge a book by its cover. Also dangit Kouga. Just like in the anime. If you paid a little attention to anyone else EVER you might not be the complete moron in this part of the story.
InuKag are the cuteness once more. And oooh, snarky but so-in-love-he-can't-stand-it Miroku was so fun to write. Poor Sango has a long road ahead, but at least someone has her back, right?
SONGS!
Inuyasha - "Right Down the Line" by Gerry Rafferty (One of my all-time favorite love songs. So simple. So sweet. UGHHH SQUEEEE)
Kagome - "My Prerogative" by Britney Spears (I know, I know, the Bobby Brown version is EIGHT THOUSAND TIMES better, but this one at least is from a female POV)
Sango - "Whatta Man" by Salt N Pepa (EVERYBODY SING WITH ME - WHATTA MAN WHATTA MAN WHAT A MIGHTY GOOD MAAAAAN. I mean, you know we were all thinking this the last few chapters, right? Hahaha)
Miroku - "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" by The Proclaimers (He is the best boy. Would do anything. What a sweetpea)
AND APPEARING FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THIS LIST, Ayame - "Lola Montez" by Volbeat (Cuz she sexay but that's sort of an issue for her?)
Love all of you! Sorry for the delay (I feel like I say that every time, but I mean it every time.) My work schedule is finally starting to let up! At least til my summer class starts up in July. UGH HALP. Thanks for the reviews in advance! I hope you guys are still reading this and haven't left me out of anger or frustration hahahahahahahahahapleasedon'tleaveme - meggz0rz