Chapter Two: An Encounter That Didn't Please

Kagome Higurashi's morning started off really well. She didn't have any classes until early afternoon so it wasn't her alarm that woke her up but the simple peace of one who no longer needs to sleep.

She rolled off her mattress and stepped out of her clothes as she walked into the bathroom. After a lovely shower, she ate breakfast/lunch. Her best friend Sango called her up shortly after that and they made plans for the next day, Friday.

The time neared when she had to leave for her class so she gathered her bag, her keys and the green, spiral bound notebook she took with her everywhere and left for the subway station half a block away. It was still early September so the air was crisp and the sky was clear. She wore loose-fitting jeans, a pink tank-top, a pink skull cap and a white, cable knit sweater. (She was feeling spectacularly fashionable, today.)

While she was passing the large Barnes and Noble smiling out onto the street from the Prudential Shopping Center, she was struck by a passage she had read in one of the books there when she had been browsing last. Fishing for a pen, she flipped open her green notebook and jotted down a note to possibly use later in her thesis.

Getting off at the Washington Street Silver Line about a block away from the campus, she walked into the building that held her class, took notes for the lecture, and left once more. Hopping back on the subway, she stopped at a station in Back Bay near her place of work and had a bite to eat before continuing on.

Five-fifty-five rolled around and that is when Kagome Higurashi entered the first floor of Axis Management Corporation on Boylston Street. The large lobby was two stories high and full of cream marble. It was empty except for a small food stand on the right and a high, marble-topped desk on the left. The food stand was always closed by the time Kagome arrived and tonight was no exception.

Sitting at the desk was a young woman by the name of Alexia. She ran the desk during the regular office hours, nodding politely to those who worked there and signing in those who did not. She accepted packages and mail and dealt with difficult messenger boys. Her job was not complicated by any expanse but she handled it well and it showed through her tenure.

Alexia rose, grabbing her coat from the desk's lower working space hidden on the far side. "Well, thank goodness you're here!" she called out. "I've got my son working on his big paper for school tonight and I told him I'd help. Said I got a girl here who knows all about paper-writing!" She winked.

Kagome smiled and set down her bag. "Well, good luck then! I've got everything under control so don't you worry."

"Oh yeah," Alexia rolled her eyes and shifted her heavy weight. "I know you got to worry 'bout all those folk comin' in here this late at night. I don't know how you deal with it."

Kagome laughed. "I know – it's so difficult."

Alexia snorted and threw on her jacket. "Well, you just get writing your paper, sweetheart, cause I know you ain't cut out for this line of work too long."

"Yes, ma'am," Kagome waved. "See you later, Alexia!"

Alexia waved through the glass windows on the darkening street. "Bye, honey!" was her muffled reply.

With Alexia gone, Kagome settled into her seat and pulled out a few books and her green notebook. The thick tomes were littered with bright little page markers like flags. When she opened the pages, every margin was filled with scribbles decipherable only to her and highlighted sentences and words in all the colors of the neon rainbow. The green notebook was starting to look a little worn. Pages were filled with irreplaceable notes and paragraphs. She had already written fifteen printed pages worth of her paper and still more points of reference.

Alexia had once remarked, after seeing this notebook, that it was too bad Kagome didn't have a computer for all this. Nowadays it just seemed like you couldn't get a decent education no how without a Dell.

But Kagome did have a computer: in fact, she had a very nice laptop that her mother had given her just a year before when her old one had finally kicked the bucket. It was simply just that Kagome preferred writing with a pen and paper. Ideas seemed to flow better and she loved the feel of the pen sliding over the crisp lines, the smell of the notebook and the feel of the pages.

Eventually she would have to type it up, but that wouldn't take too long: a week or two, maybe. But by then, she'd have everything edited and reworked within an inch of its existence. All she would have to do was hit print and hope she didn't have to run out for more paper.

Footsteps on the marble of the lobby floor echoed around the cavernous lobby and stopped in front of her desk. Looking up, Kagome saw who it was and smiled broadly.

"Why, hello, Mr. Okada!"

"Hello, Kagome."

A tall man with black hair and piercing blue eyes leaned on the marble desk top above Kagome. He grinned down at her, his mouth quirked higher on one side, his left eyebrow raised. His shirtsleeves were unbuttoned under his black suit jacket and his tie was undone, the shirt hanging open to reveal his tanned and muscular neck.

"Working on the old thesis, I see." Though he gestured to the notebook with his right hand, his eyes never left her face and his smile never wavered.

Kagome chuckled nervously. Was it just her or was his gaze just a little too fixed?

"Yeah, you know how it is… graduate school and all…"

Mr. Okada shrugged easily and glanced away. "Not actually. Never went to college. But it obviously didn't stop me from getting the good job and making the good money." His grin and smile were back, making Kagome feel like he was poking her with a stick.

"Yeah, well," Kagome shrugged and smiled. "I guess we aren't all super great like you, Mr. Okada."

She had meant it as a joke between friends (or at least acquaintances) but it seemed Mr. Okada didn't take it that way.

His grin dropped from his face and his eyes lost their playful twinkle. He leaned forward across the desk and grabbed both of Kagome's hands up in his own. Kagome felt herself being pulled forward, the top of her desk cutting painfully into her stomach.

"Kagome," Mr. Okada spoke in a deep and steady voice. "You are a wonderful woman and nothing would change that, even if you didn't go to college. You will always be a remarkable and attractive girl."

Kagome blinked. What…? Where was this coming from?

A throat cleared behind them and both the actors in this little real-life drama turned their heads to the source of the sound. A nervous young man shifted his weight from side to side and coughed into his hand. His hair was an amazement – completely white with a thatch of midnight black growing right in the center front on his head, and despite the grey, he looked to be no older than Mr. Okada himself.

Mr. Okada frowned. "What is it, Ginta?" he demanded.

Ginta cleared his throat again and spoke in a voice that was a perpetual whine. "Hakkaku said he's got the car waiting, K- Mr. Okada."

Mr. Okada sighed heavily. "Fine, I'll be right there." He turned back to Kagome. "Remember, Kagome: You are a worthy woman."

Kagome nodded, her eyes wide. "Okay, Mr. Okada. Bye…"

And with a kiss to the back of her clasped hands, he left, "Ginta" following after. ("Why do ya always wait so long in the office, Kouga? It's not like you're doing anything anyway…")

Kagome sighed and shook her head. Settling back down into her seat, she picked up her pen and tapped it against the open page of her text. Though that was the last of her human interaction for the night until her relief showed up at midnight, she wasn't sure she was upset to see him go. Mr. Okada was a… presence, to say the least. Kagome couldn't be sure if he took his flirting seriously or if he was just being friendly. She preferred to think he was just being friendly. To be completely honest, she was not interested in a relationship with the guy at all, no matter how handsome and suave he might be.

She blamed Miroku – how was a girl supposed to be able to the difference between flirting and fun when her best guy friend did both?

Fortunately for Kagome, (and quite typically, at that) nothing else of interest happened the entire night. When midnight rolled around, the large man who relieved her of her station (named Arnie, to Kagome's never-ending delight) he called a cab and gave her the appropriate amount of money as agreed upon when she accepted the job. (After all, it's very unsafe to walk the streets of any city at night, even if you are going the short distance from Kagome's workplace to her home three streets over and down five.)

At 12:28, she had locked the front door behind her, thrown her bags on the floor, walked out of her clothing and collapsed on her mattress on the floor, in her underwear. The day had started out really well and had ended on a similarly pleasing note.

She should have known it wasn't going to last.

---

Kagome Higurashi was awakened by her alarm clock at 7:52.

And again at 8:01.

And again at 8:10.

The alarm clock that belonged to Kagome Higurashi was thrown on the floor and forever silenced at 8:19.

At 8:20 it was miraculously brought back to life mysteriously and went berserk on the floor that belonged to Kagome Higurashi.

Groaning, Kagome rolled over onto her stomach and screamed into her pillow. It has never been proven but I hold to my theory that it was this and this alone (the screaming) that cause the alarm clock that belonged to Kagome Higurashi to stop its insane beeping at that time.

How else do you explain the alarm clock's sudden silence at the exact moment she pillow-screeched?

Kagome smiled and chuckled into her pillow, happy to have vanquished the evil alarm clock.

At 8:43 Kagome Higurashi sat up with a start and realized why she had an alarm clock.

Kagome rushed to the bathroom, turned on the faucet to her bathtub and stuck her head under it. There was no time to wash her hair or take a shower so she hoped that if she just got her hair wet and pulled it into a bun no one would notice the oil. (From experience: that never works.) She hurriedly brushed her hair and teeth, using different types of brushes, and ran back into her room. Grabbing the first pair of jeans she found, she threw them on, grabbed a sweatshirt, her bag and ran from the apartment.

Fortunately, she managed to catch the train that left only ten minutes after the train she originally meant to take.

With seconds to spare, she made it to her first class and into her seat in the back of the lecture hall. Whew…

The class passed without incident, as did her second class. When Kagome's belly grumbled with its lack of food, she remembered the promise she had made to Sango the day before. Hurrying along to the designated café, she found her friend already sitting at an outdoor table.

"Well, we won't be getting to do this for too long," Kagome said instead of greeting her friend like a proper person would. She sat down at the table and began lifting her sweatshirt up to take it off. "Winter always comes so quickly and lasts forever."

"Kagome!"

Kagome lowered her sweater and peered at her friend. Sango was blushing and pointedly looking everywhere but at Kagome.

"Yes, Sango?"

"K-Kagome?" Sango blushed harder. "Are you sure you put on a bra this morning?"

Kagome looked down and low-and-behold: No bra! (No da!)

"Hmm," Kagome looked down at herself, not bothering to let go of the sweatshirt. An elderly couple to the side was giving her a strange look. Kagome didn't notice them, but Sango did and it made her face turn completely crimson. "I guess not…"

"For god's sake, Kagome! Put your shirt back on!" Sango hissed and reached across the table, jerking the front of the sweatshirt down. "This isn't the time to be flashing everyone!"

"I know!" Kagome smiled and clapped her hands. "That's for later!"

The old man at the table next to them cheered quietly, causing his wife to squawk. Kagome heard it and waved to him. He looked as if he was going to get up and say something to her, but his wife threw a roll and hit him in the eye.

When Kagome turned back to her best friend Sango Katagiri, her friend was no where to be seen. Leaning forward, Kagome found her slumped down in her chair, her hand covering her face.

"Aw, whatsa matta, Sango? Somethin' wrong?" Kagome cooed.

Sango glared up at her friend. "You're as bad as the Monk," she accused.

"Does that mean you want to date me?"

"No."

"Does that mean you'll let me live in your house with you?"

"No."

"… Will you buy me the-"

"No!"

Kagome waved her hand. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

Sango shook her head and tugged on the bottom of her shirt. She was finally sitting up straight. "I don't need to. You're just being silly."

Kagome smiled and rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her hand.

"So what was it in particular you wanted to talk to me about?"

Sango began twisting her paper menu. "What makes you think it was something in particular?"

"It's always something when you call me out like this." Kagome glanced across the street at the storefronts. "You never actually plan stuff to do with me – like lunch like this. It's always let's hang out, let's do something, let's blah blah."

Sango glanced up at her friend. "Does that bother you?"

Kagome looked surprised. "No, of course not! What do I care? I prefer it that way – that way we get to do whatever we feel like then as opposed to what we felt like doing some other time. It's good."

"Oh. Okay then." She went back to her twisting.

"But really," Kagome rambled on. "It's not like you just want to eat lunch and then go on our separate ways, usually. Usually it's something big, like the last time when you told me about how Miroku…" Kagome sat up straight.

"I knew it!" she crowed.

Sango jumped. "Knew what?"

"I knew it!" Kagome squealed into her hands.

"Knew what?" Sango wailed.

"You did it!" Kagome pointed at her. "You and Miroku did it! You se-"

Sango had leapt across the table, spilling plates and cutlery to the floor, so she could cover her friend's mouth with both her hands.

"Don't say it. If you say it, Kagome…" Sango's words trailed off dangerously. Kagome shook her head vigorously. Sango sighed and sat back in her seat. A waiter hurried over and gathered up the dishes and forks. "We didn't do it; that's not why I called you here today."

"Then why?"

Sango took yet another deep breath. It almost seemed like a good idea to suggest she invest in a respirator, but somehow Kagome managed to keep that to herself.

"A man offered to do a show of my work in a gallery in the South End."

Kagome's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my god, Sango! Do you mean it? The South End? That's like the Soho of Boston! Oh my god, I'm so happy for you!" Kagome reached across and hugged her friend. Sango (having been friends with Kagome for quite a few years now and having gotten somewhat used to the touching) allowed her friend to hug her for a full four seconds before squirming away.

"Yes, but there's a problem, Kagome." Sango didn't meet Kagome's eye.

"They're pictures of you."

"What?" Kagome asked breathless. She shook her head. "So what? Sango, you take pictures of me all the time! Why's that a problem?"

Sango's eye twitched.

"Some of them you weren't aware I was taking them."

Kagome frowned. "What – like when I was showering?"

Sango's other eye twitched.

"No, but in some of them you're not… completely clothed…"

Kagome laughed. "Can you see anything vital?"

Sango shook her head.

"Am I doing anything stupid like picking my nose?"

"Ew, you pick your nose?"

Kagome held up a hand. "Not the point here, Sango, my little stalker. Are the photos you took embarrassing?"

"No."

"Then what's the problem?" Kagome shrugged, then beamed. "I'm so happy for you, Sango! Gosh, I can't believe this – this made my day!"

Sango quirked a brow disbelievingly. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Kagome gushed. "This is so great! I can't wait to see it!"

"Well, it won't be until late October…"

---

It really had made Kagome's day a lot brighter to find out that her friend had gotten her first real gig. Until then, Sango Katagiri had merely been the manager of a local art gallery her father had some influence with.

But Sango had been determined from the start to make her way in the art industry by her own abilities and no that of her father's. She had been taking pictures since middle school, black and whites mostly, though she was known to add in color during developing. Her pictures tended to have a fanciful quality to them, like half-forgotten dreams. They were breathtakingly beautiful to look at and it was no wonder that she was already given her own show at the age of twenty-four.

It was hours later when Kagome was trying to remember a specific photograph she thought Sango had taken the summer before last as she traversed the corridor of the tenth floor of her apartment building. In the midst of her mental wanderings, a door slammed open and a harried, young woman burst out.

She screamed upon seeing our heroine.

Kagome jumped and spun around, looking for her attacker.

"Oh god- Kagome!"

A young woman who looked to be around the age of thirty hurried up to Kagome in a hunched-over sort of run. Her red hair was hanging in her face and her white cardigan was slipping off her shoulder. "Please, Kagome! You have to take him! I- I need a babysitter! I need you to take care of him; it's so important! Please, just for the night! The office… the office called… I'll be back tomorrow morning for school… Please… Oh thank you, Kagome! You don't know how much I owe you!"

With a wave, she took off down the hall. In less than the time it took for a thought to pass (one of Kagome's at least) she was gone.

"Wait… Ayame…" Kagome protested lamely. Looking down at the thing her neighbor had thrust into her arms, Kagome fought the urge to blanch.

The cutest little face peered up at her innocently. Tiny hands clutched at the fabric in her sweatshirt. Emerald eyes hidden under fluffy orange bangs blinked.

"Uh, hey, Shippo…"

The little boy blinked. "Are you mad, Kagome?"

"No! Of course not!" Kagome hugged the little boy and pasted a smile on her face. "Um, this just means… oh cr-darn." Kagome sighed. "Hey, Shippo, you think you can do me a favor tonight?"

Shippo perked up. "Yeah, Kagome! What is it?"

"Well, see, I have to go to work, too, just like Ayame…"

"Ayame's always working."

"Yeah… and well, that means I guess you gotta come with me. Which is not a problem! It's totally not! It just means you gotta be good for me, right Shippo? Can you do that?" Kagome gave a little sniff. "'Cause, if you can't… (sniffle) I might cry…"

"Oh no, Kagome!" Shippo reached up and patted her cheek with a hand. Really, but he was quite the monkey! "It's okay, Kagome; I'll be good! I'll be real good and we'll have lots of fun!"

"Yay!" Kagome did a little dance and Shippo giggled. "Oh, gosh! We have to leave now if we're going to make it!" Kagome put Shippo down and took his hand. He had to reach up to grasp her palm. "Are you ready to go, Cap'n?"

"Aye aye, soldier!" Shippo saluted.

And they left the building, hand in hand, on their way to a brighter tomorrow.

---

Kagome suspected her first mistake was this:

"Oh, here we go! Hey, Shippo! Have you ever heard of this? It's called Pocky. No college student can live without it."

And her second one might have been this:

"All right, Shippo, are you thirsty? You stay right here and I'll go get you a soda."

But maybe the biggest mistake was:

"Hey, look! My bag of crack! Well, I think it's mostly crack. There might be some speed and crystal meth in there, too. Have some, Shippo!"

Okay, that last part didn't happen, but it might as well, with Shippo's behavior. It was so bad, right from the beginning, that even Mr. Okada didn't bother sticking around when he saw Kagome – and that was before the unnecessary sugar.

Kagome was about ready to break down. This had been the worst idea in the history of the world. She should have called Sango up and begged her to either take Shippo or make Miroku temp her job. She was sure Alexia and Arnie wouldn't have said anything (Alexia was already cool with the whole Shippo thing) and Miroku probably wouldn't have minded the chance to work without distractions (Sango) even if he really liked grabbing the butt of his girlfriend (distractions).

Kagome groaned into her hands. Shippo was currently bouncing around the room with the air of someone who had snorted the entire party mix bag of drugs she didn't actually own.

It was many, many minutes before Kagome realized the problem: it was quiet.

She jerked her head up from her hands and squinted around the lobby. It was already dark outside, but the hall was brightly lit and no exuberant red-head was anywhere to be seen.

"Shippo?" Kagome called out. Her voice reverberated off the ceiling and into the void. "Shippo?" Her pitch rose in frequency the second time she spoke.

"Shit."

Kagome leapt from her chair and headed for the stairs. She figured they were her best bet, seeing as how she hadn't heard the elevators opening. When she was running up the steps, nearing the first floor, she thought she heard a metallic slam. Running to the railing, she peered up and called Shippo's name once more. The only response was silence.

She hurried on, her sneakers pounding the concrete steps as she ran from floor to floor. It had sounded like a door slamming shut and like it'd come from many flights up.

The first floor she tried to find Shippo on was actually the eighth floor and it was empty. She peered around cubicles and poked her head into offices and tried not to get lost. The job she was paid for had never led her to gain access to anywhere further than the front lobby. She'd gotten word of the opportunity through a notice on a board at the University and had interviewed in the nearby Starbucks. There was no reason for her to venture any further into the building and so she had no clue into any of the little hidey-holes that might be scattered throughout.

By the time Kagome had reached the fourteenth and final floor, she was about ready to pass out from exhaustion. It is speculated that she lost a pound or two of weight with all that running, but she surely gained it back in the days to come because of her indulgence of sweeter foods due to the trauma caused by events which are about to occur.

If you need to re-read that sentence to comprehend it to its fullest, then by all means do so – this story is not going anywhere.

Back to Kagome, it was a delighted squealing that lead her to forgo all the searching of desks and run through the darkened corridors of posh offices to the other end of the floor. There stood two heavy mahogany doors, bright, yellow light pouring from where they had been opened and the cracks beneath them.

Kagome slowed and approached the doors warily. In the dark of the night, they appeared sinister, as if all her fears lay beyond them, ready to pounce at will. The sort of nightmares that existed in light, that cannot be chased away by a blanket thrown over her head – that was what seemed to be hidden behind those doors.

She pushed one open slowly and peeked her head around it…

"Shippo!"

Shippo looked up sharply from where he was in front of the computer. The room was enormous, obviously belonging to someone very important to the company. The desk was a huge mahogany affair done in a classical design, replete with green, leather ink blotter and gold leafing tastefully done along some of the carvings. The black chair Shippo stood on was leather as well and complemented the black, gold and red lacquer display case along the adjacent wall. The case held an impressive display of Japanese swords mostly, a few daggers and throwing stars. The carpet was a black, green and gold Oriental over a dark hardwood floor.

"What are you doing, mister? Didn't you promise me you'd behave?"

"Uh oh!" Shippo leapt from the swivel chair, causing it to swivel around, his hand sliding across the keyboard, causing that to make some beeping sounds. Papers were swept from the ink blotter and onto the floor.

"Wait! Shippo! Come back here!" Kagome leapt forward to grab at the little boy but her hand met nothing and her closed fist slammed down on the keyboard, eliciting further beeps.

Shippo darted away, leaping onto the display case and pushing off of it with all four of his limbs. He was quite the little lemur!

Kagome followed pursuit, crashing into the display case, knocking open the glass and causing quite a few of the dangerous weapons (none of them sheathed – why weren't they sheathed!) to fall to the ground. She jumped out of the way, praying to God she didn't get stabbed.

Shippo ran for the door, Kagome racing after him, when he was stopped by a leg like a steel pole. Both contestants of the marathon stopped and gulped.

First, the man's shoes: he was wearing a very nice pair of Italian, leather shoes of a brand unpronounceable to the American tongue. His pants were very nice as well, charcoal grey and pressed with the crease in the front. They ran up to meet a matching suit jacket covering a cobalt blue, collared shirt and yellow tie with tiny blue stripes. The man himself was fairly strange looking – stranger than the tuft-haired guy that followed Mr. Okada around. His hair was silver – not white or grey – and he still appeared somewhat young. His eyes were yellow – no, more of a tawny gold, like a lion's. The skin of his face was unblemished and smooth like he never had to shave, and his hands resting on the doorknob were manicured and neat.

The first thought that entered Kagome's head was: ….

The second: Models should not be let out of their cages!

Kagome cleared her throat and looked around. "Oh, uh, sorry… Shippo kinda wondered in and I… um," her eyes found purchase on the fallen swords. "I'll just pick those up for you…" She bent over and reached for a large sword with a red, rounded handle.

"Do not touch anything."

Kagome jumped back, holding her hand behind her. "Sorry!" she apologized. "I didn't mean to-"

"Silence." The man interrupted. His gaze wandered over the destruction of his beautiful display case and desk. When they came back to Kagome, she felt her whole body stiffen in response. His face was so emotionless, as were his eyes, but she could feel his anger rolling off his body in waves. It was like a bad aura filling the room and making her want to run into a corner and cringe.

"You have destroyed my collection."

Kagome mouthed the words before she realized he meant the swords. She glanced back at them, wringing her hands. "I'm so sorry," she began but was interrupted by his swift approach of the desk.

His eyes narrowed as he looked upon the computer screen.

"And you have deleted several of my most important files."

Kagome gasped. That was so much worse than a broken plane of glass!

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to; it was a total accident! What can I do? How can I make up for it?"

His glare halted her speech.

"The files are of no marketable worth. The damage you have inflicted to my swords and my display case are of a much more concerning figure."

"How much can a piece of glass cost?" Kagome blurted out before she could stop herself. Her hands flew to cover her mouth as his eyes narrowed even more.

The man spent a few seconds piercing her with the force of his gaze a little longer before responding. It was creepy how his eyes never once left hers, holding her in place with a fear-like trance. Kagome felt she could understand how people used to think snakes could hypnotize if they learned their lessons from his man.

"I can see from here that several of the larger swords and one of the daitos are injured. The glass alone cost two-thousand for the pane and its fixtures were five hundred each." He paused. "There were six. This is a hefty sum you owe me."

"Five thousand dollars!" Kagome cried.

"Four thousand."

"Four thousand dollars!" Kagome corrected herself. "I can't pay for that- I'm a college student! I need my job at the front desk to pay for my apartment! I don't get any extra for myself, how am I supposed to pay you that?"

The man probably would have shrugged if he seemed like the sort of guy to do stuff like that.

"It will be more than that once I have the swords assessed for damage."

"That doesn't solve my problem."

The man considered her for a moment.

"Perhaps you can pay me in deeds rather than money." Kagome's left eye narrowed in suspicion and she opened her mouth to speak but he continued on, ignoring her. "You say you work at the front desk: then you are basically free at nights. You will assist me while I work late. We will assume you will work for the pay of the amount a beginning assistant is paid and we will determine just how many hours you need to work to pay off your debt. If you are in college, then this should be fairly easy – are your weekends free?"

Kagome nodded.

"Then you will be ready to work then, as well, if I have need for you. Any extra funding you will require for transportation or to cover any initial mistake you make will be taken out of your "pay" and will result in hours added to your owed time. Do you comply?"

Kagome thought for a minute. She tapped her chin. She bit her lip. She sighed and looked out the window into the neon-filled night.

"Do you comply?" the man asked with a bit more edge to his voice.

"Yes!" Kagome jumped. "Yes, okay! But first… um," She looked down at her feet. "What's your name?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Can you not read?" he asked. He gestured to the nameplate on his desk. "It is Takamatsu. I will expect the appropriate courtesy."

Kagome nodded.

---

At 8:53 Kagome Higurashi was indebted. She was not looking forward to the time she was going to be spending working for this man. Miserable hours indeed. He promised to notify her of the total number of hours at his first possible chance. That day had not been a good one.

The only good thing to come of the encounter was a more subdued Shippo. He spent the rest of the evening coloring on a piece of paper from Kagome's precious notebook with a ball point pen. Ayame took him the next morning, before when school would have started had Shippo attended school on a Saturday.

At 6:47, Saturday morning, Kagome sighed at stared up at her ceiling in her bedroom. Life sucked.

Oh shit! How were all these hours going to affect her writing time!

---

A/N: Here's a contest for you all:

Come up with an interesting course for Kagome to be majoring in! Try to make it as original as possible. I already have something in mind, but if somebody comes up with a better one, all the better! (duh)

And if you can find the reference to another popular manga in this chapter then Miroku will bring you pizza in no jeans!

Miroku: I was quite popular in the last chapter wasn't I?

Sesshoumaru: Only because they were not offered this one, fool.

Never mind, folks! I'll send over Sesshoumaru instead, if you want! (Though it's your funeral if you want him.)

Sesshoumaru: … I will kill you now.