So Surreal So Real Chapter 11, an inuyasha fanfic

So Surreal – So Real

Chapter Eleven

Miroku sat at the long bar set up on the far side of the hotel ballroom that the launch party for Brand New Breed's third album, Give 'Em Hell, Boys, 'listening' to a very attractive and chatty woman who either worked for his label or was some type of celebrity herself. He was trying to be civil and pay attention to her obviously very fascinating and important one-sided conversation, but it was extremely difficult. The hand in his pocket fiddled with the faded blue prayer beads that he had with him everywhere. Today was the fifteenth anniversary of the accident… The accident that had lead to him becoming an orphan…

"Miroku, son, pay attention," his father's soft-spoken voice was stern as he tried to bring the daydreaming six-year-old back to reality.

The young boy looked up at his father with big purple eyes. He was a miniature replica of his father, except for his mother's eyes. Taro Houshi's own grey eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled warmly down at the little boy. He knew his son had a tendency to drift off in the middle of their lessons. And he fully understood how boring and drab it could be to study the scriptures, but this was important. They were studying James and it was imperative that Miroku understand what the author was trying to convey to his ancient students and peers.

"Now, Miroku, this verse is very interesting, can you read it for me?" he pointed down to the small print on the worn page of the open Bible on his knee.

The six-year-old Miroku glanced down at the page and rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists, yawning widely. He dutifully bent back over the thick book his father took with him everywhere and squinted at the printed words. After a few minutes of blank staring, he turned his head up to face his father pleadingly.

"Daddy, I'm tired. Can't I go and play with all the other kids on the swings?" he whined. "'Sides, I don't even get it! Why does the dead man talk about my tongue like that? My tongue is just my tongue! It's not on fire!"

Taro chuckled at his son's words. Sometimes he forgot exactly how old Miroku really was. For a six-year-old, he was very mature for his age and had grown up fairly fast from living with only his father in their tiny apartment. But it was times like this, when he realized that talking religious theory with a six-year-old that couldn't fully comprehend what he was reading was not something that his late wife would have… encouraged, that Taro missed his wife the most, yet loved his son the most. He couldn't blame the child for the death of his mother; he'd just been born when she'd died. But Taro didn't really know how to be a father. All the thirty-four-year-old man knew was his religion, so that's what he taught his son.

They'd gotten by fairly well for the past six years. He couldn't deny that. But he felt like a failure when it came to parenting. They had come to the park for a nice afternoon surrounded by nature and God's beauty. Miroku had been so excited to get out of the house and play with kids his age, but Taro had interpreted his eagerness as something else. So their peaceful outing had turned into a lesson, when all Miroku wanted was to play on the swings.

Smiling down at his son, Taro shut his Bible and set it beside him on the bench. Miroku glanced up at him confusedly. The older man stood up and stretched, looking back at his son still sitting on the bench discretely out of the corner of his eye over his shoulder. Smirking slightly, he turned back around and fixed the young boy with a hard look. The little boy was fidgeting under his intense stare, mildly wondering in the back of his mind what he'd done wrong this time.

Suddenly, Taro swooped down upon his son and swung him up onto his shoulders. Miroku shrieked and gripped his hair tightly. Taro ignored the twinge of pain along his scalp and laughed out loud, taking off at a trot for the playground. Miroku whooped and hollered as soon as the large sand pit with the metal and wood structure rising in the middle like a grand castle came into view. Taro just grinned and ran him around on the concrete pathway surrounding it once and then stopping in front of the swings and pulling the six-year-old from his shoulders, setting him on the swing and starting to push him. Miroku crowed and gripped the metal links tightly as he gained speed and height, crying to go higher and higher with each push from his father.

People around them smiled fondly at the sight of the pair. They were just so happy and close. It was evident that they shared a special bond and spent a lot of time together. After all, not many fathers took their children to the park for a day of fun any more those days. Most fathers were too busy with work and supporting their families.

Father and son were walking home from the park later that afternoon when it happened. Taro held Miroku's tiny hand in his own and loosely clutched his old, leather-bound Bible and faded blue rosary in his other. They weren't speaking or even looking at each other; they were just staring straight ahead or, in Miroku's case, staring wide-eyed at the tall buildings surrounding him and smiling softly.

But just as they turned the corner and entered their street, a man in dark clothes jumped out and snarled at Taro. Instinctively, Taro pushed the small boy behind him, shielding him from sight and harm. The man pulled something from inside his jacket and brandished in front of Taro's face. Flinching back, he noticed it as a gun. Steeling his features, he calmly pretended nothing was wrong.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely, grey eyes discretely darting around, assessing the situation and taking in his surroundings expertly.

"Yeah, ya can," the man sneered. "Gimme all ya got on ya an' I migh' not shootcha."

Taro sighed and held up his hands, palms out. "Terribly sorry, sir," he said with a sheepish grin. "I am but a poor father trying to raise my son all by myself. I don't have anything. All I have at the moment are the clothes on my back and instruments of my faith," here he waved his Bible that was still in his hand.

The man frowned and eyed the book with disdain. He didn't want a lousy book and a beaded necklace! Damn it, he wanted some cash! This guy had to be lying. Who didn't caring money around with them? He was either holding out on him or he was a complete idiot.

Scowling, the man shoved his gun into Taro's chest. "Don' lie to meh," he growled, pushing his face into the taller man's. "Gimme everything ya got, now."

Stepping back, Taro raised his hands peacefully and smiled kindly. He didn't want this man to get hostile and try to pull something. Not with his son around.

"Now, now. No need to get so hasty," he said soothingly, trying not to spook the man into doing anything brash. "Let's just calm down and settle this calmly. I'll give you what I have, but it's not much, as I already said-"

"Jus' do it!" he said wildly, gesturing with his gun frantically.

"Alright, alright," Taro said placatingly as he reached into his pocket and fished around. His calm eyes never left the stranger's face and he smiled slightly and warmly.

The man was perspiring, nervously glancing back and forth. The hand that held the gun was shaking and he raised his other hand up to steady it. But both of his hands were shaking terribly and the gun rattled, muffled by the long, grungy sleeves of his coat. Miroku poked his head out from behind his father's leg and gazed innocently up at him. The man was getting desperate and didn't notice the six-year-old.

"C'mon! Do ya have anythin' or not?" he demanded.

Taro shrugged sheepishly and turned out his pockets. "Sorry, mate. I really don't have anything."

Anger flashed in the man's face and his hands tightened on the gun as his eyes became resolved and determined. Taro discretely pushed Miroku further back and shoved his Bible and rosary into his small hands. The six-year-old stared up at the back of his father's head in confusion. What was he doing?

"That's not good enough!" the man yelled.

Taro held out his open hands again. "Sorry, I really am, but-"

He never finished his sentence. A shot rang out and echoed off of the tightly packed brick buildings. Taro spluttered for a moment before slumping forward onto the cold pavement. He glanced up at the man with slightly glazed over grey eyes and sucked in a breath.

"I forgive you," he whispered hoarsely.

The man stared down at him with wide, shocked eyes for a moment before dropping the gun and running, scrambling over himself to get away. Miroku stared down at his fallen father as well, confused at why his father was laying on the floor. He clutched his father's Bible and rosary to his chest and shook his head at his father beckoning him forward.

"Daddy?" he asked through his quickly clogging throat and blurring sight.

"Miroku…" Taro rasped as the small boy crept forward. "I love you, just like I loved your mother. Don't be mad that this happened."

"Daddy, what's happening?" the child wailed, shaking his shoulder slightly.

"You'll understand later, Miroku… Just trust in God and don't forget that none of this was your fault and that some things just happen. I love you…"

"I love you too, Daddy."

"Be good for Mushin."

"Am I visiting Uncle Mushin, Daddy?" he asked in confusion, still not understanding.

Taro just chuckled softly, but his soft laugh turned into a rasping cough. With loving eyes, he pushed the hair off of his son's forehead and smiled slightly.

"Be a good boy, son."

And with that, Taro Houshi died. Miroku sat, cradling his father's worn Bible and well-used rosary until someone came out to investigate what had happened. Someone screamed for help and someone else called 911. But he was already dead and there was nothing the paramedics could do. Later that night, Miroku was taken to his godfather, Mushin's, house. It wasn't until much later that Miroku fully grasped what had happened that day. The man who had killed his father was eventually caught and sent to jail, and Miroku stayed at Mushin's house. Wherever he went, he carried his father's faded blue rosary, and he kept the worn Bible by his bed every night.

"Hey, are you even paying attention to me?" the woman demanded, giving him a disdainful look.

Miroku shook his head to clear it of his memories that followed him always in the back of his mind. He turned wide violet eyes to the blond beside him. That hadn't happened in years… Why did he have to remember that right then? Here of all places…?

"Oh, I'm sorry. What were you saying?" he asked politely, flashing her a charming grin.

The woman just shot him a glare and huffed off. Miroku sighed and stared into his glass, swirling the amber-colored liquid around dejectedly. First his mother, then his father, and now he couldn't even pick up girls like he used to! How come he was always the one who lost everything? Pausing, he reflected on what he'd just thought.

"You bloody hypocrite," he muttered, downing the rest of his drink and ordering another.

Slumping forward and leaning on his elbows, he let his head drop further between his shoulders. This was not the time for an impromptu pity party. This was a celebration for him and the guys and their newest album. But a few drinks couldn't hurt, especially since he was already hurting so fucking much already…

The band stayed home for another week and a half before going home. Shippou's parents saw them off with huge bags of food and other goodies. Christmas was over and now they had to go back to LA to get ready for their upcoming tour. The next month was completely full of appearances and gaining more publicity so that more people would come to see their shows. Kikyou had the whole ordeal planned and down to a crisp T. For the next month, none of the boys would be alone or stopping as they were put through the grueling paces once more, all for the sake of being fulltime celebrities with multi-platinum albums and huge record deals.

And because Inuyasha never had a minute to himself or to just slow down and take it all in, tension ran high in the band and in the record label as they all tried to keep his and Kikyou's breakup a secret. There was no time for Inuyasha to get away and out of the public eye. And they all knew that he'd crack sooner or later; it was inevitable. What they didn't expect was for him to explode on a popular, live afternoon talk show that most of America tuned into every day, especially for the Brand New Breed special. And explode he did, right all over the tabloids and message boards. It was everywhere, and no one could stop talking about it.

"So, Inuyasha, everyone's just dying to know," the perfectly quaffed TV host gushed as she leaned toward him in her over-stuffed chair. "Is there anyone special in your life or is there still a chance for all us regular girls?"

Inuyasha gave a tight chuckle and shifted in his uncomfortable chair. "Well, um," he glanced off to the side and caught sight of Kikyou standing beside a cameraman staring at him intently. Cutting back to the woman smiling thinly at him expectantly, he sighed and shook his head. "No, there's no one in my life right now; not anymore."

"Ooh! Really?" she leaned forward even more, effectively invading his personal space even more and giving him a perfect – although very much unwelcome – view of her obviously enhanced breasts. "Do tell!"

Inuyasha forced a laugh and leaned back in his seat to get as far away from her as possible. Why did he have to open his big mouth? Now everyone would be talking about it! It was supposed to be a secret!

"I-I'd rather not, actually…"

"Oh! Bad break up? We understand. It happens to everyone. Right everybody?" she turned to the audience and they erupted in encouraging cheers. "See? You can tell us!" There were more cheers.

"No, no, it was nothing. I just want to keep these kind of things private is all," he said with a small smile, trying to play it off as no big deal.

"Aw! Look at that! He's heart broken!" the woman cried to the audience, to which they all 'awed' and shouted encouraging phrases. "Come on!" she said, shifting so she was practically sitting in his lap over the armrests. "Time to get it off your chest! Spill!"

He chuckled nervously and shook his head. "No, it's okay. I'd rather talk about the new album –"

"Oh, pish posh! I can tell you're just dying to tell us about this mystery girl. Here, I'll help – was it Nicole Richie?"

"What? No! Why –"

"Um, okay, how about… Lindsay Lohan! Was it her?"

"No!"

"Oh, it was a girl back home, huh? Was she pretty? Is she selling your stuff on eBay?"

"What are you talking about? EBay? I –"

"Oh, it was, wasn't it? I'm sorry," she put a hand on his arm and squeezed it gently, grinning at him flirtatiously.

Inuyasha just shook his head and attempted to get the woman off of him. She was pressing herself against him and it was really making him uncomfortable. And now with her squeezing his arm and smiling at him like that… Inuyasha barely suppressed a shudder and tried to inconspicuously pry the woman off of him.

"No, I think you're confused. It wasn't a girl from my hometown or anything. I came on to talk about the new album and not my love life," he said as calmly as he could. "I consider that topic very private. So if you don't mind…" he held up a copy of the new CD while managing to twist away from her completely.

The woman pouted but played along. This was what the show was supposed to be about after all. But that didn't mean that she couldn't revisit the previous topic… She grinned slyly and continued chatting with him about music and his influences for his songs.

They eventually moved to a commercial break and Inuyasha retreated to another side of the room from the host. He was sipping a cup of coffee one of the production assistants had brought him when Kikyou stormed over.

"What was that about?" she demanded angrily as she grabbed him by the arm to a vacant dressing room.

Hot coffee sloshed over the rim of the cup and splashed onto his hand. He hissed and transferred the cup to his other hand while shaking and blowing on the scalded one. Kikyou didn't even spare him a glance as she dragged him along after her.

"What was what about?" he finally asked once they were alone and had stopped moving.

"That!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms out in the direction of the buzzing studio. "That whole 'I don't have anyone in my life right now' thing!" she had adopted a deeper, dopier pitch to her voice to imitate his own. "What were you thinking?"

Inuyasha just shrugged, trying to play off the whole thing as unimportant. As far as he was concerned, she deserved this for cheating on him. Not that he would ever listen to that voice of reason in the back of his mind. Besides, he was still head over heels for her. Her betrayal was just making him even more callous than usual.

Kikyou kept ranting. "Do you know what that could do to your career? What that could do to my career? Think Inuyasha! Both of our asses are on the line with this show."

Inuyasha smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall behind him. "Actually, Kikyou, my ass is perfectly safe. In case you forgot, our contract was renewed a few months ago while we were in the middle of recording. I've got a few more years before I can be in hot water with the company. They like our work." His smirk grew wider. "You on the other hand, could be in some very deep shit if the company found out about our relationship over the past few years. Sure, my name would be all over the tabloids with yours as a little footnote, but in this business as they say 'bad publicity is good publicity.'"

Kikyou stood still for a moment, digesting what he had said. Inuyasha just grinned callously down at her, his fingers tapping his arm as the seconds ticked by. Finally, Kikyou's face twisted into a scowl and stormed off. Inuyasha gave a harsh bark of laughter before taking a large gulp of his coffee and walking back into the studio to await the 'on air' sign to come back on.

"So, Inuyasha, what are you planning for the future?"

"We're going on tour in a few months, but I have no idea with whom. The record label is in the middle of finding a brand new band that no one's heard of. We're all about promoting the local music scenes. I mean, that's where we came from, so why not give other bands the same opportunities?"

The host laughed as if it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. Inuyasha resisted the urge to lean away from her and give her an incredulous look. He was on live television after all. And besides, he didn't want to humiliate the record label and ruin Kikyou's career…

The host had started talking again and he only caught the last part. Shaking his head, he turned back to facing her. The audience was laughing and cat calling. What had she said?

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I was wondering what it would take for me to get a date," the woman batted her eyelashes, shamelessly flirting with him on camera.

Inuyasha almost threw up. "Uh, well…" he glanced at where he knew Kikyou was waiting for him to answer, her foot tapping impatiently and her face set in a furious scowl.

"Aw, come on! Don't you like girls?"

Inuyasha stared at her as if she was insane. Was she serious? What the hell was happening?

"E-excuse me?"

"Oh, you heard me. We're all wondering what's going on with the mysterious Inuyasha. We never see him around town with girls or in the clubs. Is he a closet gay?"

Inuyasha blanched ever so slightly. "I-I don't think this is appropriate for live television," he stammered.

"Well why not? The whole world's dying to know. Why not just tell us. Where have you been these past few years?"

She leaned forward, pinning him with a stare. Inuyasha gulped and glanced out at the audience. They were all dead silent and leaning forward, eager to hear his response. His eyes cut to the woman who had occupied his thoughts and time for the past three years, frantically searching his brain for something plausible that he could give them to ensure that they got off his back. This would be all over the tabloids in a matter of minutes and he desperately needed to save his ass before it got out of hand. But all he could think about and see was Kikyou, the woman his world had been centered around and who had betrayed him only a few weeks ago in the worst possible way. Kikyou…

"Kikyou…" he breathed, unaware that it had come out of his mouth.

"Kikyou?"

Inuyasha blinked and glanced at her curiously for a moment before realizing what he'd said. Glancing at said woman, he saw that she was wearing the same face as the host: taken aback, confused, intrigued, and a little angry. Pausing for a moment, he thought over what was going to happen after he spilled the beans, for it was inevitable now. Nodding, he turned back to the gossipy host.

"Yeah, Kikyou," he said with finality and resolution. This had been weighing him down for too long and it would be good for him to get it off his chest.

"Who's Kikyou and what's so great about this person?"

"Kikyou… is my manager and… has been my girlfriend for the past three years," he sighed. God it felt good to get that out in the open! The host opened her mouth to say something, but he held up his hand to keep her quiet. He wasn't finished. "And before you ask, we broke up a few weeks ago before the album launch."

"Was it another man?" she breathed, leaning forward, wide eyed.

"What?"

"Did you leave her for another man?"

"What the hell are you talking about? She was sleeping with some other guy and I walked in on them!"

The bleach-blond and the audience gasped and drew back collectively, which, in itself was creepy. But then they all leaned forward together, eager to hear more. Inuyasha resisted the urge to shudder.

"Did it drive you to be interested in men?"

"What the fuck are you going on about? I'm straight! What is your fascination with me and being gay?"

"Well, you see, um –"

Inuyasha leapt to his feet, livid. He'd had enough of this woman and her hints at his sexual preference that were not subtle at all and thrown out so unabashedly on live television. He'd also had enough of no one listening to him and having his heart ripped out and force fed to him.

"That little bitch ripped out my heart and still has the gall to act as if nothing happened! I was going to ask her to marry me, I loved her so much! But instead, I find her in bed with some bastard! I still have the fucking ring!"

Inuyasha reached into his pocket and drew out the small velvet box. Turning to where the petrified Kikyou stood, he snarled and threw it at her feet. The box popped open and revealed a stunning pink diamond and opal ring. Kikyou raised a shaking hand to her mouth and bent down to pick up the ring, tears streaming from her eyes. Inuyasha watched her for a moment before jerking back around to glare at the TV host.

"You want to know what it would take to go on a date with me?" he spat. "You'd have to be the fucking opposite of her!" he jabbed a finger at the crouched form of the broken manager on the floor.

And with that, he stormed from the studio, not even bothering to look back. People ran after him and tried to stop him, but he ignored them and got into his car and drove off. A million things were racing through his head, but only one managed to wriggle it's way to the forefront: 'What did I just do?'

"Oh, you should have seen them, Shippou!" Kouga gushed as they paced the rows of clothes at a thrift store down town.

"Kouga, I get it, you've fallen madly in love with a drummer from back home. I mean," he said with a grin. "We drummers are pretty irresistible."

Kouga just shook his head. "You don't understand, Ship. She was… different. Like, she knew how I felt and what I was about. And she didn't treat me any different than someone who wasn't a celebrity."

"Are you sure she wasn't just trying to kiss up to you so that you would see her band play?" Shippou asked, inspecting a faded tan vest at arms length before nodding and slinging it over his forearm and moving on to another rack.

Kouga ran after him eagerly. "No, no, she wasn't. I'm sure she wasn't. She didn't even hint at it the whole time we were in the car or anything. I had no idea where we were or why we were there until she walked on that stage with her friends and started playing."

"Then why was she at the launch?" Shippou asked, glancing at him skeptically out of the corner of his eye.

"She mentioned something about her parents or whatever. And I don't really care! She's amazing! Her band is amazing! I have no idea why they haven't cut a deal yet."

Shippou turned to him then and pinned him with a hard stare. "Is that the love-struck dude talking or the musical genius?" he asked seriously.

Kouga just stared down at the shorter boy incredulously. "Shippou, come on. Just because she is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and sees me for me doesn't mean that my judge of musical talent is dimmed in the slightest. Besides, Kaede thinks they're really good too."

Shippou's mouth hung open and Kouga just grinned down at him smugly. "What's the matter, squirt? Cat got your tongue?"

"Wh-what did you say?"

"I called her while I was at their gig and she heard them over the phone. She thinks they've got a lot of talent too. So there, I'm not just saying that because she's gorgeous."

After a few more seconds, Shippou shook his head and turned back to the racks of used clothing. They continued browsing for a while before Shippou turned back to his band mate who was eying a black silk sleeve poking out among the assortment of shirts. Shippou grabbed the hanger and held it up to his friend and nodded, handing it to him with a smile.

"So, what's going to happen now? Is Kaede going to cut them a break?"

Kouga sighed. "I don't know. I hope so; they're good enough. Hell, I don't even know if I'll see her ever again."

Shippou turned around suddenly. He had been walking and browsing, and his sudden stop had caused Kouga to come up short and teeter on his toes before regaining his balance and staring wide-eyed at the nineteen-year-old who was glaring at him.

"What do you mean by that?" the younger boy demanded. "You've been exclaiming about this 'amazing girl' for the past half hour and all of a sudden you say you're not sure you're ever going to see her again? What are you talking about? Are you just going to blow her off now and carry on with your life because she lives back home and is too much of a 'country bumpkin'?"

Kouga stared startled down at the shorter boy before slowly shaking his head. "No, that's not what I meant…"

"Then what do you mean?"

"We're going on tour in a few months and she might get a record deal by then and go off and do her own thing while we are off around the world," he said sullenly.

"Oh…" Shippou said, sobered by his friend's sad words. "Well, haven't you heard of cell phones?"

Kouga sighed. "She didn't give me one."

"She denied you?" Shippou asked shocked. No girl had ever turned Kouga down!

"No," he shook his head. "I didn't ask."

Shippou stared at him wide-eyed again. "You didn't what?"

Kouga hung his head. "I didn't ask," he mumbled at his shoes.

"Well why not?" Shippou cried, smacking his shoulder.

"I… don't know. I just didn't."

Shippou sighed and shook his head. "You're an idiot."

"I know."

"So, what're you going to do about it?" Shippou asked after a beat.

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll figure it out."

Shippou just nodded and moved on to another aisle, Kouga following glumly after him. 'Well, this is certainly getting interesting,' he mused silently to himself. 'First Inuyasha and Kikyou break up and now Kouga's gaga over a mysterious girl from back home. These next few months are certainly going to be… fun.'

Inuyasha had practically quarantined himself right after the news started to spread like wild fire. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he didn't talk or communicate with anyone in any way, and everyone started to get worried. He was the bands front man. If he didn't go on tour, ticket sales would plummet and everything would just go down the drain.

But what people didn't realize was that Inuyasha was doing this so that he would be able to make it through the tour with his sanity still intact. He sat in his room and thought. He contemplated his life, his mother, his relationships (past and present), the band, Kikyou, the launch party, and the show from hell. Inuyasha reached inside him and tried to confront everything he had ever experienced and contemplated where his life was going and how screwed up everything was. He started from the very beginning and moved on up, starting with his mother and childhood.

A small, silver-haired boy sat in the waiting room of the hospital by himself. No one approached him or tried to talk to him. He just sat there, swinging his too-short-to-reach-the-ground legs and twiddling his thumbs. Nurses passing by glanced warily at him out of the corners of their eyes and whispered to each other about him.

"He's the illegitimate son of Senator Taisho," one stage whispered to her co-worker.

The other woman nodded knowingly. "I heard his mother seduced him and had his kid to get money out of him," she said conspiratorially.

"Pft. Serves her right to be stuck here. No wonder she can afford such extensive treatments."

The two women scoffed and sauntered off. The little boy didn't even bat an eye. He just stared straight at the wall, just like he'd been doing every Tuesday and Thursday for seven or eight hours for the past few months. He'd gotten used to the stares and whispers about him and his mother. Most of it he didn't even understand, but he clearly got the message that he wasn't wanted. And he knew that it was because of him that the nurses treated his mother so badly. He wasn't blind and he wasn't deaf; he just wished and pretended he was.

"Inuyasha!"

The little boy's head whipped around to see his half-brother stalking towards him. He was just about to hop down from his perch on the hard plastic chair when the older boy yanked on his arm and started dragging him down the hall.

"Let's go, you worthless mutt! Father's here to take us home and he's not going to wait forever. I've been looking all over for you!"

The little silver-haired boy just bowed his head and obediently followed after the taller and stronger boy. Sesshomaru knew where he waited every day. He didn't need to look very far to find him. But the older boy blamed him and his mother for why his mother was gone and why he now had to share his father's affections. It was easier for him to vent all of his anger on the younger boy when their father came to pick them up and say he was causing him even more trouble. And Inuyasha didn't mind. He blamed himself too. He was the reason why his mother was so sick all of the time. It was all his fault.

"Inuyasha you little bastard! Get your lazy ass down here!" Sesshomaru called from the kitchen, banging pots and pans around while he made breakfast.

Inuyasha stood up from where he'd been sitting in front of his father's bedroom door and trudged down the hallway and into the kitchen. It'd been three months since his mother had died and his father rarely came out of his room any more. He normally wouldn't permit Sesshomaru to talk that way, especially not to his half-brother, but he didn't care anymore. He didn't care about a lot of things these days.

Inuyasha slipped into a chair at the kitchen table and rested his head on his folded arms. Staring lethargically at the opposite wall, he waited for Sesshomaru to put his food in front of him so that he could pick at it and then leave for kindergarten. His father and brother didn't care that he stayed up past his bedtime or that he ate what ever he wanted, they didn't even care that he walked to school by himself every morning. Sesshomaru grudgingly fed him breakfast every morning and made sure he had clean clothes, but that was about it. For everything else, Inuyasha was on his own.

After breakfast, Inuyasha slipped from his chair and rinsed off his dishes in the sink and slipped his sneakers on his feet before leaving the house with only his little backpack and an apple for lunch. He took the back streets, mindful of the bullies that picked on him almost every morning when he couldn't outrun them. If he could get to the playground in one piece he was fairly safe until recess. And if he was lucky, he might have chalkboard duty and get to stay inside and out of harm.

This morning, he arrived at the schoolyard without a trace of Jason and his gang of fourth graders. He solemnly passed the row of mothers sending off their children with hugs and kisses and cheery good-byes. Three months ago, that would have been him if his mother had gotten better. But now… now he had to hide out in classrooms from the older children.

As he entered the fenced off yard, there was a crowd of children gathered around a group of boys, screaming and cheering. They had found a new victim, probably a new kid. Inuyasha winced at the memories of his first beating from the older kids and sympathized with the poor soul who was currently on the receiving end of their fists. In the back of his mind, he knew that he should probably go and help him out, but… it was best to just ignore the helpless kid and be as inconspicuous as possible. After all, it wasn't every day that he got a reprieve from the schoolyard bullies.

Just then a teacher came running out, blowing a whistle and quickly dispersing the crowd of students. He took the battered little boy into the building and to the nurse's office to get him treated. Inuyasha watched them leave before ducking his head and shuffling up to his classroom. There was no reason for him to interfere. The school faculty would take care of it; they usually always did.

The teacher was out of the classroom during lunch, so Inuyasha remained at his desk and munched on his apple in silence. The door creaked open slowly and a head appeared in the doorway.

"Um… Do mind if I join you?" the boy's voice asked softly.

Inuyasha's head whipped around to face the bruised head in the doorway. It was the kid from earlier that morning… He was still conscious? He just shook his head slowly, watching as the other boy quietly slipped in and gave him a weak smile as he sat at the desk next to him.

"Hi, I'm Miroku," he said extending his hand with busted knuckles covered in flimsy band-aids. Inuyasha looked down at his hand slightly startled. The kid had put up a fight.

"Inuyasha," he replied, shaking his hand briefly.

The boy's smile grew and he settled into his seat before reaching into his bag and pulling out a brown paper bag that was neatly folded at the top. He took out his lunch, piece by piece and laid them out neatly on the desk. Observing his work, he finally unwrapped his sandwich and dug in, oblivious to Inuyasha's hungry stares.

After a while, Inuyasha shrugged and returned to his apple. The two sat in silence, eating their lunches and just enjoying the peace inside the classroom. They parted when the bell rang and Inuyasha settled down for a long rest of the day, unaware that that day was the beginning of a long-time friendship and a running tradition between the two.

"D-daddy?" Inuyasha called softly, pushing the door to his father's room open.

There was no reply and he advanced into the dark room, glancing around nervously. His father's room had always given off a sense of forbidden-ness ever since his mother had died and he had no intention of going near it ever again… Except for today…

"Daddy? Are you in here?" he called again, his voice growing a little in confidence.

Still no answer. Shuffling forward, he peered around to make sure that he wasn't missing the middle-age man. His heart pound in his chest as his wide eyes jumped from object to object in the barren and neglected room. If he didn't find his father… Shuddering, he pushed the thoughts from his mind. He didn't want to think about that.

"Sesshomaru wants to talk to you, Daddy. He says it's really important and if…" There was a shuffling in the adjoining bathroom behind the partially open door.

Curious, Inuyasha stepped up to the door and peeked inside. His father sat slumped against the side of the bathtub, his head lolling to the side. There was an assortment of prescription bottles scattered on the floor and pills were rolling on the stark-white tiles, tiny round capsules of blue, red, yellow, white, and purple. Puzzled, he stepped into the small bathroom and stooped down to be level with his father.

"Daddy?" he asked, gently prodding his shoulder.

His father weakly shrugged his hand away and shook his head once, quickly giving up on the effort. Bending over even further, Inuyasha looked up into the taught and prematurely aged face of his once strong and reliable father. What he saw made him jump back in surprise. That man sitting on the floor wasn't his father! His father wasn't skin and bones with blood-shot eyes and an ashen complexion! What had happened these last few months?

Inuyasha landed heavily on his knees but ignored the sharp pain in favor of his father. "Daddy? Are you okay? Daddy?"

He tilted his father's head back to look at him again, inspecting his unkempt form with narrowed eyes. His father stared back at him with dull, unfocused eyes so like his own. While he stared into his son's eyes, his father smiled slightly.

"It's almost over, Izayoi," he croaked out with a soft, barking laugh that turned into a hacking cough. "We'll be together again soon…"

Inuyasha stared down at his father wide-eyed. What was going on? Almost over…? What was he talking about? His father took a shaking breath and began talking again.

"The boys don't need me anymore. Sesshomaru can take care of Inuyasha. And they're both big boys. They can take care of each other," he sighed, his stagnant breath fanning across Inuyasha's face. "Besides, all I ever wanted was you, Izzy. You're the love of my life and nothing else matters except for you. I love you."

And with that, he gave off another soft sigh and his head slipped from Inuyasha's hands and their light grip to fall over the side of the tub, his neck limply resting on the edge of the tiled basin. Inuyasha kept staring as his father's chest remained still and his glazed eyes stared unseeing at the bathroom wall. He didn't even register that his father was dead. All he knew was that something was wrong and Sesshomaru was going to kill him.

Starting to panic, Inuyasha backed away from his father and scrambled for something to hold onto that would allow him to stand up and run away. His back bumped into the sink and he frantically got to his feet. He was about to dash out of the suddenly too small white room when he heard his brother coming in the room, obviously looking for him… and their father… Inuyasha's heart rate sped up even more and his breath came in short puffs, his chest heaving as his brother came closer and closer. His eyes darted around the tiny bathroom searching desperately for a way out. And then suddenly Sesshomaru was standing in the doorway, assessing what had happened with his sharp, critical eyes.

"Inuyasha, what did you do?" his deep voice rumbled.

"I… I…" he stuttered, trying desperately to take in air through his tight throat as terror took an even tighter hold on his body.

"Well?" Sesshomaru crossed his arms and began to tap his foot impatiently.

"I… don't… kn-know…" he breathed before he collapsed from fear and overexertion, darkness overtaking his vision as he lay sprawled on the floor among his father's pills and bottles opposite his father's lifeless body.

Well, that was much longer than I planned… sorry if this has taken a few months… School's been killing me. That's my only excuse. It also took a while to write all of the Inuyasha sequences wit his past and everything. It just kept getting longer and longer! But I couldn't cut anything out or put it in the next BNB chapter. Did anyone get my Bible humor in the Miroku and his dad segment? If there are any questions, just let me know. I'll try to answer any and all to my best capabilities.

The next chapter might be out before Christmas break and it might not. I really don't know. My life's been hectic recently, especially with preparation for my Christmas/Winter concert… Well, until next time everyone! – Hope Swings