In the back of his mind, Inuyasha registered the door to his interrogation room opening with a soft swoosh, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough to acknowledge whoever had entered. He heard the slight squeak of leather loafers walking towards his table, and the sound of a chair being pulled back, then scooted in, and yet again decided that the person who came to speak with him wasn't worth the effort of opening his eyes. They would just ask the same questions over and over and over again. But then a very familiar smell began wafting towards him, and he couldn't help the treasonous twitch his nose gave. Very slowly, he cracked his right open just enough to get a fuzzy view of the man seated in front of him, holding a very delicious looking bowl of beef ramen in his hands. Damn him. How did he know? Trying to act nonchalant, Inuyasha opened both eyes lazily, and leaned back so he was balancing on just two chair legs, and stretched his arms as far over his head as he could. Fuck, it felt good to move. He leaned back down onto all four legs, and crossed his arms over his chest and just stared blankly at the man in front of him. For some reason, the feeling that he had met this officer before nagged at him. He racked his brain quickly, trying to place why he seemed so familiar, but nothing came to him besides that initial spark if recognition. He tried his hardest to look stern while displaying his blank look, but that was soon countered by the deep rumbling noise that emanated from his stomach. God. Dammit. First his nose betrayed him, and now his stomach. Was there no body part that was still loyal to him? The detective gave a small chuckle and set the steaming bowl down in front of Inuyasha.

" Here. You must be starving. Do you know how long you've been here for?"

As the detective leaned forward to place the food near enough for Inuyasha to take if he wished, he caught the glint of the badge and read the name on it. Detective Makoto. I know that name.. but where do I know it from? Come on, come on... where...? Shit. Son of a mother fucking-

" You're a cop?" His voice came out scratchy and hoarse, but still had the deep undertone it normally carried. Man, his throat was burning. How long had it been since he had spoken ? Surely only a day or two. Maybe three. Clearing his throat, he pushed the pain aside and studied the cop closely. Yeah, this was him. He looked exactly the same as he had in the photo, except maybe a little older, with more salt than pepper in his hair now. There were more than just laugh lines creasing his face, and his weight seemed to almost dangerously low, but Inuyasha couldn't blame him for that. If he was in his position, he wouldn't have been eating, either. His eyes still had that same steadiness, that underlying gentleness that was there from the few times he had glimpsed his face before. Now, he saw that same gentleness aimed at him right now, and for the life of him, Inuyasha couldn't figure out why. Hell, he had half a mind to go a kneel in front of the guy and offer his throat to rip out, and even that was a more than he deserved. Dying a slow, torturous death by fire and mutilation was almost too good for him, and he couldn't understand how this man was not looking at him with pure rage. His bewilderment must have shown on his face while he was studying him, because Makoto suddenly stood up, turned around and marhced out the door. Watching him retreat, Inuyasha couldn't help but feel another stab or regret. Another good person whose life I fucked up. When will it end? Wasn't losing Kagome enough? No. it would never be enough, so long as he was breathing. Nothing would ever make up for the damage he had caused, and the pain he had inflicted on anyone who had ever had the joy of knowing her. Which was pretty much the whole goddamn world. He sighed, and absently stirred the bowl of ramen that was still sitting in front of him. His appetite was gone, and in it's place a hate and rage tore at his insides. What was he doing here? If he lied, and said he did it, they would lock him up forever, maybe even give him the death sentence. Good. He didn't want to live anymore, not knowing what it was like to have a life like what he lead just a month ago. But it would take too long, and the trial would do nothing but show him things he would rather leave buried. No, his best bet would be to escape, and end it himself. Find a nice bus to jump in front of, or a piece of rope to dangle from. He stood, and started pacing again, getting more and more agitated as he started to think of ways

to get out of this hell hole. If only he had taken the offer to do the remodels of the station, he would have a blue print already etched in his brain. He was probably going to need outside help on this one. I wonder if they will still let have my one phone call? I could probably convince Miroku to break into the archives at the office, but how would he get that info to me? I suppose he could- Inuyasha was jerked from his thoughts as the door opened again and Makoto entered again, carrying two pitchers of water and two glasses balanced on a ratty silver tray. He walked to the table and set down the pitchers and glasses, then walked back to the door to set the tray right outside, and then he pulled the door closed. Makoto walked back to the table and sat down in the same chair he had seated himself in before. Scooting up to the table, he looked at Inuyasha, who had frozen in the middle of his pacing to just stare at him with his mouth slightly agape, and raised an eyebrow, shocking Inuyasha more. He couldn't move, couldn't stop staring at the man sitting down.

"Care to join me?" Picking up one the glasses, Makoto grimaced. " Sorry I wasn't able to get us actual glasses, but apparently suspects aren't allowed to have anything that could be used as a weapon. Including glass. I got the ones with the least amount of stains on them though, so at least that's something."Glancing at them, Inuyasha noticed they were indeed plastic, and not very appealing to look at either. In fact, they looked as if they were made with the intent to be drive the recipient away from , Inuyasha slowly moved towards the table, and sat down again, his amber eyes never leaving the cops'. They were chocolate brown, not nearly as pretty as Kagome's had been, but definitely not the flat color that most Japanese had.

" I saw you were thirsty. Have a glass, it will make you feel better, I promise. I know you demons have different needs than us humans, but I figure you need water the same as all the rest of us." Smiling slightly, he poured water into both the glasses, and set one down in front on inuyasha while taking a sip from his before he set it down again. He waited until the hanyou had picked up his glass and started to drink before he spoke again." To answer your question, no, I'm not a cop. I'm a detective." Inuyasha snorted into his glass, spraying water onto his face in a very not-so-graceful way. " Seriously, old man? Same fucking difference."

"So, you're a construction worker?"

"Fuck no. I'm a architect. And before you try to pull the whole it's-the same-thing bullshit. I plan, create, and mold beautiful dreams into reality. Detective is just a fancier way of saying cop."

"Hardly. But I won't argue with you on this. Eat, you must be hungry." Inuyasha felt like debating more, but the temptation of food was just too great. The ramen had gone cold by now, but he still shoveled it into his mouth with the pathetic spork he had been given as fast as he could. When he was done, he leaned back and laced his fingers together behind his head, and began to study the detective once again.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They sat together in silence then, Detective Makoto staring at the wall with a contemplative look on his face, and inuyasha staring at the detective, trying to get his emotions under control. He wanted to ask some many questions of this man, but knew it wasn't his place. The only reason he had been as responsive as he had been with him was because of his connection to Kagome, and he couldn't help but feel as if the an knew that. He was nervous, waiting for the bomb to drop, for the murder to ensue, but nothing happened. Inuyasha was puzzled, and intrigue by him, and he was thankful that he was taking him away from the dark brooding bubble he had been wrapped in, even if it was for just a minute. He sat perfectly still with his hands still behind his head, and waited patiently for the detective to get on with it. Finally, Makoto tore his eyes away from the spot on the wall that they had been previously fixed to, and focused back onto Inuyasha. Taking a deep breath, Makoto said, " I know you didn't do it. So why aren't you cooperating?"

Inuyasha merely kept staring, giving away no apparent intention to answer his question. Just as Mokoto opened his mouth to ask the question again, Inuyasha interrupted with, "Why are you being nice to me? I know who you are. Kagome used to talk about you all the time. She fucking idolized you after her dad died. So, why are you, her godfather, being nice to me, her murderer?"

"Because I know you didn't do it," Makoto repeated.

"How can you fucking say that? I'm sitting here, with her blood all over me, dried onto my skin, and was found holding her dead body. How could you possibly believe that.?" Inuyasha growled out his question, and felt himself start to lose some of the self-control he had been keeping in check since he had been taken into custody.

" Did you do it?"

Silence met the detectives last question. The young man had anger written all over his face, but his jaws were clenched shut, and his eyes held steel determination in them.

" Will you tell me what happened?"

Silence again.

"Ok. Fine. I really didn't expect anything less from you. Kagome used to talk about you all the time. No, she didn't outright gush, obviously, because how good would that look, for her to be in love with a married man? No, she just had this way of finding a way to slip you into every conversation we had. It was like every part of her life was tied to you, and it worried me. Who were you, to hold her heart so tightly, but give her nothing in return? She deserved better than a life hidden behind the woman you laid in bed with every night. I used to hate, and I think a part of me still does, because whatever happened to her, it had something to do with you. But the way you looked...when we found you... there's no way a man who didn't give her every part of himself would have been in the state you were. You are in. I realize you don't want to tell me, but I have a job to do, and that is find out what happened to my goddaughter. For Kagome's sake, I'm going to give you an option that I normally don't give to suspects." Here he paused, and keeping contact with very attentive hanyou, took something out of his pocket, unfolded it, and laid it on the table between them. He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a pencil and laid it down as well. Inuyasha glanced down between them to see several pieces of blank paper lying next to the pencil. Confused, he looked back up at Makoto, starting to ask him what he meant, but fell silenced when Makoto raised his right hand in a stop gesture.

" Talking about it... I couldn't even imagine it. It would rip me right apart if I was in your shoes. Write it down, Inuyasha. Tell me everything, but you won't have to utter a sound. Just... give me closure. Something, anything." Makoto's voice cracked at the end, leaving him with lost look on his face. He took a deep, ragged breath, and looked like he was going to say something else, but decided against it. He shook his head sadly, not really certain why he was doing it, and turned to start walking out. He got halfway to the door when he heard him ask soflty,

" Where do I begin? It goes back farther than you know."

Not turning around, Makoto responded with, " The beginning. Which beginning is something you'll have to figure out." With that he continued out the room, the door thudding closed behind him.

Inuyasha just sat there. He wasn't sure if he was breathing, even, as still as he felt. It might have been minutes, or hours, or days. Then suddenly, he leaned forward and began writing. And writing and writing. If Makoto wanted everything, that's what he would give.