Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor do I, in any material form, profit from posting fan fiction containing its themes and characters. Please do not sue.

Author's Note: Alright, Chapter 8! This is a pretty standard chapter, not a whole lot goes on. This my effort at making the daily interesting. I must say, writing in two different tenses makes verb agreement very confusing, so sorry if there are any sentences were one half is present and one half is past. Although some are meant to be that way…Well, you'll know which is which, I shoulder think.

I finished my novella, so I can finally start posting. It's a novella of the French Revolution, and it's entitled "The Execution of the Butterfly". I would offer to send it to you guys, but I think I might get it published, and therefore can't have bits and pieces of it hanging out on someone's computer.

Mm, so, here's the chapter. Enjoy!

Translations:

Ohayo (gozaimasu): Good morning

Chapter 8, Song Cycles

The pipes hum and the showerhead puts forth a thick, biting stream of icicles. I swallow the urge to scream and crumble into the floor. They mustn't have the satisfaction of watching me squirm. I stare at the wall, behind which I know they are watching me, and stick out my chin defiantly. The water stops. It comes on again, hot this time. It's so hot that my skin is peeling back in horror. I tip my head back, grab the soap, and begin to scrub myself.

"Ohayo, Kagome-san," says a snide voice from the other side of the wall. "How are we feeling this morning?"

"Fuck off," I say.

The water stops. It comes back on, freezing cold. I continue to sponge myself as though I haven't noticed.

"Do you remember me, Kagome-san?"

"Nope," I say with a shrug. I won't let him know that his voice is imprinted on my memory. I won't give him the chance to pat himself on the back. "Who the fuck are you?"

The water changes again. The change wouldn't be so bad if they didn't stop the water in between. That moment of dryness, when the cool air rushes around my nakedness like a blanket, is heaven compared with the volcanic heat or the icicles that follow. I wonder if they heat and freeze the water themselves, because no tap water has ever had such extremes.

"Fukouka," he says. "Do you remember me now?"

"Hmm," I say. I turn around, baring my naked body to the wall I know he's standing behind. "No."

"Change her conditioning," Fukouka orders the guards. "Bring her to the glass shower, and let some of the privates in. Two birds with one stone: we'll humiliate her and raise moral at the same time."

I look away. The water changes again. Ice. I close my eyes, and it is winter. I'm running out of the apartment, and it's snowing…

(…)(…)(…)

It was a beautiful winter day. The sharp air struck my face as I stepped out of the apartment building, pinching roses in my cheeks and displaying my breath. Snowflakes fell all around, covering the earth in a brilliant silvery blanket. I took off at a brisk jog down the street, tying my long black hair back as I went, and ducking between a group of old women carrying their groceries.

"Ohayo gozaimasu!" I said, smiling at the weathered, lined faces that turned up to me.

"Ohayo," they responded.

I picked up a doughnut at the bakery, freshly made just two hours ago, and continued jogging with my pastry tucked between my lips. The raspberry filling poured out over my tongue, causing my stomach to purr and roll over in delight.

After my jog, I went back to the apartment. Inuyasha was gone. I untied my hair and stepped into the misty stream of the shower. I brushed my teeth, applied a bit of makeup to my face, a luxury I was allowed now that I was legally married, and got dressed. Leaving a note reminding Inuyasha to cancel his six o'clock appointment, I went to work.

(…)(…)(…)

The restaurant was opening just as I slipped through the door. Inuyasha had found me a job at a local restaurant called Momotaro. I worked there during breakfast and lunch, the busiest times. It was a Government hotspot. Everyone went there, from the lowest private to the officers. They were strictly forbidden to speak of work outside of secure areas, but a well-placed smile applied to a slightly drunk customer could loosen the most stubborn tongue.

Miroku's training was finally coming in helpful; being around Miroku all the time, I could brush off even the boldest pats with a smile. Government employees were the biggest perverts ever.

(…)(…)(…)

I am pushed into another shower. I stumble in, slip on the wet floor, and almost fall flat on my ass. The men surrounding the glass laugh. Their faces are pressed up against it, waiting for me to walk closer. I can hardly breathe; I am so embarrassed. My insides ache. I take one step forward, and then another. I close my eyes. The water comes on, mercifully hiding the tears that are streaming down my cheeks.

Inuyasha, where are you?

(…)(…)(…)

The glass crashed on the floor in front of me. I didn't do it. It was the man sitting in the booth. His back was turned to me, he was hunched over, and his chin was poised on top of his adjoined hands. He was alone. I knelt down and began to clean up the glass.

"Can I get you something else, sir?" I asked politely.

"Vodka," he said.

"Ah, right." I finished clearing the glass away, and went to fetch that vodka. First, however, I had some more important customers. I didn't get back to the mystery man until ten minutes later. This time, I approached from the front so I could see his face.

He was wearing sunglasses.

I swallowed. All right, just because he's wearing sunglasses doesn't mean he's your man, I reminded myself. Plenty of gray-haired people wear sunglasses on a stormy winter day. I put the vodka on the table, and began walking away.

His voice followed me, though. "What's your name?"

My throat went dry. "Ano…"

I was saved when my cell phone rang. "Excuse me, this is urgent," I managed before ducking behind a rice paper wall. I pressed the phone to my ear. "Inuyasha?"

"Come home."

"What's wrong?"

Dial-tone. Typical. I wondered if I should go, or take it as another false alarm and stay at work. Heaven knows we needed the money. Still, something about the strain in Inuyasha's voice caused me to grab my coat off the hanger. I ducked into the kitchen to say farewell, tell my boss that my husband just called, that he had fallen down the stairs and that he needed me to take him to the hospital.

My boss didn't even blink. She just nodded and smiled. That should have been my first clue.

I walked out the door into the bitter wind. The day had gotten worse, much worse since breakfast. I bowed my head against the ice that struck my face, tucked my scarf around my neck, and tried to make some headway through the shuffling, drifting Tokyo crowd.

(…)(…)(…)

I got to the apartment at 12:43. I know because I checked my watched before I walked in. About fifteen minutes had passed since Inuyasha's call, so I wondering whether he would still be waiting.

He was. He was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the floor. On the coffee table, lying wide-open was Kikyo's file.

"Inuyasha?" I said softly, putting my purse down. "Where did you find that?"

"Where do you think I found it?" Inuyasha snapped.

"Look," I said, lifting my hands very slowly. "Look, I can explain."

Inuyasha stood up suddenly, grabbing the files in one hand. Then, he reached into his pocket, took out his lighter, and before I could stop him, lit the files on fire. He dropped them on the carpet.

"What are you doing?!" I shrieked, jumping forward.

He took me roughly in one arm and pushed me back. "Leave it."

"You psycho! You're going to burn down the entire building," I shouted. The paper was being devoured, and smoke was everywhere. I could see the photograph crinkling, bending and twisting under the heat as the colors slowly melted together. It was like watching my own face burn up. I kicked Inuyasha in the shin. He let go. I ran to the files, took off my coat, and threw it over the flames. I began to stomp out the embers.

The fire alarm went off, and the overhead sprinklers took a stab at my quickly rising temper. I was soaked in a minute. I turned to Inuyasha slowly, fuming. I hoped my mascara was coming down my cheeks in little black streams. I hoped that I looked ferocious.

"What were you thinking?!" I trumpeted.

Inuyasha calmly took out a cigarette and lit up. I couldn't believe that he could look so cool, so…well, sexy even dripping wet. He let a thin stream of smoke escape his lips.

"Answer me!" I said.

He responded with an icy golden glare.

I straightened up and stuck my chin out. "You've ruined the carpet, the furniture, the TV, and you have nothing to say for it?"

Inuyasha flicked his cigarette at me. It hit me in the cheek, sending ashes into my eyes. I had to blink furiously to keep my vision intact. "Where did you get those files!?" he screamed.

I was speechless. All I could do was stare dumbly into his face and hope that the situation would be over soon.

He took a threatening step forward. I took a step back. "I asked you a question, girl."

"I—Sango…" I said lamely. I was fighting for vocabulary.

Inuyasha looked away. "This conversation is over," he said sharply. "We're never talking about this again." He got another cigarette and lit up. He began walking towards the door. "You better get back to work." He shut the door behind him.

I stood in the middle of the living room, my black hair sticking to my face, my make-up sliding down my cheeks in colorful streams, struck dumb. I didn't go back to work. I took a shower, and spent the rest of the day drying the carpet and furniture. Inuyasha didn't come home that night. When I woke up in the morning, he still wasn't home.

I went to work.

(…)(…)(…)

After work, I went out with a couple of my new friends. Inuyasha didn't like me doing this, but I figured I'd already broken some pretty big rules, so why not break a few more. We went to an Italian restaurant for dinner, and didn't say goodbye until eight o'clock.

The conversation at dinner, unfortunately, harped mostly on what my friends saw as my abusive marriage. They were insistent that I go on holiday. They said that there was this great spa in the mountains for troubled couples, and that Inuyasha and I could certainly rekindle, or find, our love there. I left the conversation with a new palette of green in my cheeks.

We parted at the corner of a street, under a street lamp. I waved goodbye to them and then checked my cell phone anxiously. Inuyasha still hadn't called. I gnawed on my lip, and pressed the call button. I got his voicemail right away.

Leave a message, his voice commanded on the other end.

"Inuyasha? Yeah, this is Kagome. Um…well, you haven't called. I'm just, y'know… No, no, you don't know. Oh God, never mind." I hung up, frustrated with myself. I started walking.

My breath fanned out in front of me in a bluish cloud of condensation. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and picked up my pace. My pretty pink boots sank into the snowdrifts. It began to snow slowly.

I looked up at the sky. The moon was gone, taking her monthly nap, as my father would tell me when I was a child. I smiled at this memory. A long time ago, the night of the new moon must have been a big deal, but nowadays, electric Tokyo didn't notice the difference; neon lights filled the night as brightly as daylight.

I turned onto the street where the apartment building was. I fumbled around in my purse for my keys, my numb fingers searching for their rough edges. I found them, slipped the proper one into the door, and gained entrance. I leapt onto the doormat, tapped the snow from my boots, took them off, and slipped my feet into my indoor shoes. Nodding to the security guard who was watching his soaps, I mounted the stairs.

I opened our door, and stepped inside.

"Inuyasha?"

There was no answer. I sighed, opened a can of soda, and collapsed onto the sofa. I pulled out one of the poetry books Miroku had gotten me, and started reading. The night dragged on. I nodded, and then I was asleep.

The door opened towards morning. I knew it was Inuyasha by the curse that greeted me, but I was too tired to open my eyes.

"You awake, girl?" he asked.

"Ee," I said sleepily.

"Go back to bed. I'm going to take a shower." He left, but I didn't hear any water running. I fell back to sleep.

Somewhere between waking and sleep, Inuyasha walked past me and put some breakfast on the table. I could have sworn that his hair was black, but that could have just been the shadows playing tricks on my eyes.

(…)(…)(…)

I woke up around 10:00. I panicked, and then remembered that it was Saturday, and I didn't have to worry about work. I sat up. "Inuyasha?"

"Yeah."

I turned around. He standing in the kitchen, making a snack. His back was to me, and his hair was white.

"I had a really weird dream," I said. "You had black hair."

He didn't even blink. "Yeah," he agreed. "That is a weird dream."

"Where were you?" I asked.

Inuyasha didn't answer. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and walked into the room. "So, the TV's broken, huh?"

"Yes," I sighed. Sometimes, I wonder why I even tried to get an answer out of him.

"I think I saw Fukouka in the restaurant the other day," I said, hugging my legs to my chest.

"Who?"

I frowned, offended by his selective memory. "The guy with the sunglasses and the grey hair."

"Oh, right. Ok." Inuyasha said, sitting down on the other end of the sofa. He swallowed his snack in one bite, and downed his orange juice in another. I was reminded of the breakfast scene in Beauty and the Beast. "Well, you couldn't have seen him."

"Why not?" I wanted to know.

"Because Agent Fukouka is dead," Inuyasha said calmly. "Shot in the back of the head last week. The police found his body just down the street. He was buried under some snow, half frozen."