Disclaimer: Surprisingly enough, I didn't obtain ownership of Inuyasha since last time.
Portrait of the Journalist Sylvia von Harden
Kagome was sitting at her desk, enthusiastically typing back on her computer illegible words from her notebook when Kaede's halted in front of her. The young woman's movements stopped, and she looked at the older woman with surprise.
Kaede had started the Shikon Shrine decades ago, and was pretty much a legend in town. She had covered some of the most important stories of the past years, and was rumored to have made empires collapse. She had even lost her right eye during one of her investigations, and the eyepatch she wore made kid fear her — or call her a pirate.
She was an old woman now, though, and she had a big team working under her now. Kagome was one of those people. She worked for the investigation section, something she was rather proud of. It was, however, rather rare for Kaede to get out of her office now, and Kagome looked at her inquiringly.
"I heard you were at the inauguration of a new gallery at the Goshinboku, child."
Kagome couldn't help but smile at the nickname Kaede used. She nodded, still not seeing where the older woman was going with this. She was pretty sure there had been an article about the inauguration in this week's edition of the Shikon, and art was not one of the subject she treated.
Unless… Unless it was to become one.
She suddenly sat up straight, less inquisitive but still just as curious. A small light appeared in her eyes, and Kaede, once more, felt happy for hiring Kagome. The girl was a breath of fresh air. She was brave, she was smart, and, something that was not to be ignored in their profession, she had the most surprising friends.
"Weird things are happening in the world of art those days, ye know."
Kaede grabbed a chair and sat next to the black-haired woman. She had her undivided attention, although she was pretty sure Kagome had no idea what she was talking about.
"There are paintings that are said to be cursed."
This time, Kagome nodded.
"My friend Sango mentioned that to me before. The ones signed by Onigumo."
Kaede rose an eyebrow. She had wondered how the young woman had managed to get an invite for such a select reception, but she had not expected her to know the director of the museum. She already knew about her friendship with the leader of the Wolves, but apparently, Kagome would never cease to amaze her.
"Indeed," Kaede acknowledged.
"But shouldn't just an exorcism solve that? People do exorcisms all the time."
Kaede smirked and shook her head.
"'t'is not that simple, child. Countless paintings are voluntarily enchanted by demons, and an exorcism would destroy part of their value."
Kagome frowned.
"Yes… But they fall under the law on enchanted objects, right? I wrote something on Yura of the Hair and her cursed combs — that's illegal. You have to let people know about objects' powers, you even need an authorization delivered by the mayor."
Kaede nodded.
"Ye are perfectly right, but this is art we're talking about. Having such a reputation only makes the price rise."
"So you think this is about money?" Kagome asked hesitantly.
"It is at least a possibility," Kaede admitted, "but I am afraid something much darker is going on here. As ye know, many demons are empowered by pain or death."
Kagome scribbled something on her notebook and threw a piercing glance at Kaede.
"There's something you're not telling me, ma'am," she said, leaning towards the old woman. "What are your thoughts on the situation?"
Kaede couldn't help but smile. The old hag still had some resources left, eh? She may not be able to go on the field herself anymore, but her intuition worked marvels. She was rarely wrong, and there was always something fishy, if not downright terrible going on when she pointed at it.
"It is this Naraku," Kaede said, her voice low. "He is the only one who dares to sell Onigumo's paintings, and he makes a lot of money that way."
Kagome started to chew on her pencil.
"But Naraku's not a demon, while no one knows anything about Onigumo. Shouldn't he be the one we're going after?"
Kaede shook her head.
"As you said, no one knows anything about Onigumo. Plus, Naraku is the one who makes the most money out of this situation, since he gets a commission each time the painting's sold."
"Yeah, but you said the pain the paintings cause may be used to empower demons, so what would that…"
"Demons were used as weapons by humans before," Kaede reminded her.
This time Kagome nodded. That would make sense. Sure, she would need to look into it, but this was a possibility. If it was true, then Naraku would probably often be in contact with demonic energy, and that could explain the strange feelings she had experienced upon meeting him. But it must have been quite a dangerous demon, given how strongly she'd felt shaken by it.
"Is that it?" she asked.
Kaede was silent for a few seconds.
"I think the paintings had something to do with the death of my sister's granddaughter's death."
Kagome was surprised once again, and she quickly tried to remember if she knew anything about Kaede's family.
"Kikyô Nomiko," Kaede said, noticing the younger woman's confusion.
Kagome's eyes widened. Of course, she knew about Kikyô. She had worked at the Shikon for a short amount of time, before becoming the newscaster of a very big news company. The beautiful woman had been the face of informations for a couple of years before… Before she killed herself, four years ago. People sometimes said Kagome looked a bit like her, but she thought nothing of it. She had probably heard about her connection to Kaede at some point, but hadn't really paid much attention to it at the time.
Kagome hesitated, stealing a glance at the old woman's face. That made things more complicated. She had never heard of Onigumo's paintings pushing someone to suicide, just that the owners tended to get into strange accidents. It would make sense for Kaede not to be able to…
"Don't look at me like that," Kaede admonished her, and Kagome winced like a child getting scolded by the teacher would. "I know what ye're thinking, but Kikyô killing herself makes no sense."
Kagome grimaced. "Well, you know, sometimes, people…"
"Hush, child. You trusted me blindly before, and I assure ye family business does not cloud my judgement. Something about her death was off. Look into it — if you won't for the investigation, as a favor for me."
To that, Kagome could only agree. She would have done it without any hesitation, even if it had not been relevant for anything, had Kaede just asked. After all, she could study it and see for herself if she would come to the same conclusion as the older woman, without having any emotional attachment to the woman's death.
"What makes you think that?" Kagome asked. "I don't remember reading anything about it. I never even saw people mentioning the possibility for it to be murder…"
"Months before her death, Kikyô received an Onigumo painting. It was nowhere to be found when we cleaned her apartment."
Kagome frowned.
"Are you sure about that? Did you mention it to the police? It could have been…"
"Positive, child," Kaede asserted. "They said she'd probably sold it, as it happens quite a lot with these paintings. Anyway, they didn't really pay attention to it. Didn't want to meddle with the curse, I guess."
"Alright," Kagome said, putting her notebook in her bag before standing up. "I'll look into it, ma'am, but I have no idea how long it will take me."
Kaede dismissed her worry with a wave of her hand.
"Do not worry about it. This is what the investigation section is for. But before you go, Kagome…"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I've offered it before, but are you sure you don't want to start training for your powers? In such a case, it could be useful."
"I'm grateful for the proposition, but I'm still going to refuse it," Kagome smiled. "So far, they've managed to protect me without training, and I have no interest in developing offensive abilities."
Kaede sighed but didn't insist. She already knew how Kagome felt about any kind of violence, and she couldn't exactly force her to train.
"Be careful then, Kagome."
"You know me ma'am, careful's my middle name!"
With a carefree laugh, Kagome ran out of the office. Kaede couldn't help the small smile on her lips. It always surprised her, how Kagome could make hope and happiness bloom inside her. Her social abilities were probably her strongest asset out there. She muzzled her fears. Kagome could handle anything that would come her way.
Kagome called for a taxi as soon as she got out of the building. Jumping inside it and giving an address to the driver, she took her phone out and glanced at the screen. No missed calls, no messages. She sighed, hoping it wouldn't be too audible. She didn't know what she had expected, but she still felt disappointed that Inuyasha hadn't tried to contact her.
She would certainly love to see him again…
"Miroku, do you have any idea what fuckin' time it is?" Inuyasha growled as his friend barged into his house.
"Inuyasha," the painter answered while taking off his trench coat and throwing it onto a chair, "there is such a thing as being fashionably strange, even in our line of work. Not many people are interested in those who paint with their blood, right? In other words, I do, it's one in the afternoon."
Inuyasha cursed and followed Miroku in his kitchen. The man walked there like he owned the place. He poured his black-haired friend a glass of orange juice, and Inuyasha drank it reluctantly.
"What do you want?" he snarled then.
"The press absolutely loves the gallery," Miroku hummed, completely ignoring the question. He threw a newspaper on the table, and Inuyasha merely glanced at it before looking back at his friend.
"I have a freakin' publicist, Miroku. Why…"
"He hates you and everyone everywhere hates him or fears him. Every sane person, anyway. So of course, he wouldn't tell you anything. Luckily, I'm here."
"Please tell me you didn't wake me up just to tell me the press loves the gallery," Inuyasha sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I didn't, I woke you up because I wanted to see your wonderful smile… Ok, Inuyasha, put this chair down, I had a good reason to do so."
Inuyasha set the chair down and sat again. Miroku shook his head and arranged his (impeccable) shirttails.
"Geez, you can be such a savage sometimes. Anyway, I'm here because apparently, it is time for you to give your annual interview."
Inuyasha groaned and buried his head in his arms. This was really something that asshole of a publicist should have taken care of, but of course, he couldn't be bothered. What exactly was he paying him for? Oh, right, he didn't have a choice.
"You see, I was with the adorable Sango…"
Inuyasha snorted. Sango was many things, but he would never have called her 'adorable'. He was under the impression that she wouldn't have appreciated it either.
"…when she got a call from a journalist from the Shikon — a man named Hojo, if I remember correctly. He asked about you."
"Why on earth would he call Sango for that?" Inuyasha asked, feeling a headache coming. It didn't make any sense and he had not be awake for long enough to make them make sense.
"I guess he was avoiding your publicist, which is good, since it means he's sane," Miroku said thoughtfully. "It's also common knowledge now that Sango always manages to reach you. Well, her and me, of course," he added smugly.
It was moments like these that made Inuyasha think that, after all, maybe murder was acceptable.
"So if he contacted Sango, why exactly are you here?"
"I just so happened to have been in her office when he called her,"Miroku answered obligingly. "She couldn't afford to meet you at the moment, so of course, I offered to come see you."
"What a gentleman you are," Inuyasha grumbled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"That's me indeed," Miroku smiled. "Well, shall we get going? We're meeting Hojo at three this afternoon."
Inuyasha's scandalized look was only met by his friend blinking innocently.
"Come on Inuyasha," he said, talking to him like he was a child, "go get dressed."
Looks couldn't kill, but if the man hadn't dodged the glass that Inuyasha threw forcefully at him, it could have done him quite some damage.
Kagome went back to the Shikon, a bit defeated. She knew that such an investigation wouldn't be done in a day, she had never doubted that, but the fact that she had failed to get any interesting details probably indicated that this would be much more complicated than she had expected it to be.
Onigumo's paintings were famous for their 'curse', and she had therefore expected to be able to use some reliable articles on the subject. So far, however, she had only found sensationalist papers, and none of it could be exploited, in any way, shape or form. She had left, hoping to be able to talk to either Sango or her mother, but Sango was busy and her mom was apparently working on catching members of the Birds of Paradise.
On the one hand, it was a relief, since they were Koga's mortal enemies, but on the other, it would probably mean that it would take her a while before she could get informations from the police itself. Sango's father worked there too, sure, but he would never tell her anything. She didn't really blame him for that, however it sure made her job harder.
With a heavy sigh, annoyed at having wasted half of her day only to have nothing come out of it, she slowly made her way inside of the building. She only came back because she hoped she would be able to talk to Hojo and that he would know… Well, anything, at this point, but she hadn't been able to get in touch with him, which was strange.
Given how lucky she had been that day, he had probably left for somewhere without any mobile network. Without any informations from someone who knew their stuff when it came to art, Kagome was beginning to feel a bit disheartened.
She quickly shook her head and gave herself a soft slap on both cheeks. She could do this. It was only the first day. Sure, it would mean that she would spend half of her night surfing on sites where people would talk about how those paintings were demons' plans to take over the world, but it wasn't like she hadn't done that type of things before.
Plus, she was sure that Hojo would do anything in his power to call her back, because he just was that kind of guy. The thought made her smile fondly. Hojo and her were high school sweethearts. They had been separated for a few years now, but they had remained close friends, like they had been before they started dating. They had simply fallen out of love while they were in college. They hadn't really planned on working in the same place, but they both felt like they could count on each other. She had, actually, met Sango through Hojo.
Kagome stepped out of the elevator, still smiling. The art department was on the floor above hers. Said department was one of the smallest in the newspaper, with only two people working there. The other girl, Ayumi, was a friend of Kagome's as well. However, unlike her other friends, Yuka (culinary column) or Eri (theater column), she never insisted that Kagome and Hojo should get back together, something the young reporter was very grateful for.
She noticed Ayumi, standing against her desk, anxiously staring at a closed door, and waved at her. The movement got the curly-haired girl's attention, and she turned towards her with happiness and maybe a hint of relief.
"Kagome!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "What are you doing here? You never come to visit us."
Kagome chuckled and shrugged, knowing it was true.
"I have a few questions for Hojo. Is he…?"
Ayumi shivered and turned towards the door once more. Her voice was barely more than a whisper when she mumbled "He's giving an interview".
Kagome pursed her lips. Ouch. Hojo… Hojo was a great guy, he sure was, he just… Well, you could say he didn't have Kagome's social skills. He could be a bit awkward sometimes, and he had the hardest time when it came to reading between the lines. He was probably the nicest guy Kagome knew, though, and as long as people saw that, he never got any problem. But sometimes, people did mistake his nonchalant attitude for contempt, which it was definitely not. And given Ayumi's worried expression, the interviewee was probably the type of person to draw such a conclusion.
Except that Ayumi was as much of an airhead as Hojo, and Kagome wasn't completely sure she could trust her judgement. One of those days, she would really need to advise Kaede not to let these two work together, or at least not alone. If Yuka and Eri heard about it, she would never hear the end of it and they would call her jealous forever, though...
She sighed heavily, and Ayumi looked at her, slightly worried.
"Is everything okay, Kagome?" she asked gently.
"Hojo needs help, doesn't he?" the reporter asked back.
Ayumi grimaced and then nodded slowly.
"The man didn't seem too happy to be here," she admitted sheepishly. "And I heard yelling inside."
Kagome frowned. Maybe the guy inside was just a douche. If the timing wasn't right for him, he could have just pushed the appointment back. It wasn't exactly a complicated thing to do.
"Well, I guess I'll get in there, then. Oh, Ayumi, do you know anything about Onigumo's paintings?"
Ayumi gave her a thoughtful expression.
"They're not very interesting."
Now, this was new. Kagome tilted her head. She wasn't sure she understood. To her, paintings were pretty much all alike. She could enjoy one of Monet's pictures occasionally, but most of the time, she just didn't care.
"They often revole around the same theme…"
"Which is?"
"Fire. They often revolve around fire and people burning. They're very violent, but I don't think that there is much to them, other than the shock value, you know."
Kagome nodded thoughtfully. She could easily guess that to some people, to paint something shocking would be deemed revolutionary, but apparently it wasn't enough in Ayumi's mind. That would mean that the curse probably rose their value more than she had thought. She gave Ayumi a grin.
"Thanks. Well, I'll go save Hojo now, then!"
The fact that Ayumi didn't answer "But Hojo doesn't need to be saved" in confusion like she had expected her to only made her worry a bit more.
The interview was a catastrophe.
That was the state of mind of both Hojo and Inuyasha — and for Hojo to actually notice that things were not going well, it indeed took a catastrophe.
Miroku was sitting on a chair against a wall, and made absolutely no move to help his friend or the young journalist. He didn't remember ever having that much fun before, except with a lady naturally, and he didn't want to see it end so soon.
He had taken Inuyasha to the Shikon, fresh out of the shower and dressed with whatever he had found in his dresser, which meant he was now wearing red baggy pants and an ample red coat. Hojo had bluntly told him that he usually made his interviews without anyone around, and Miroku had answered, just as bluntly, that he wouldn't miss this for anything in the world (with perhaps the exception of Sango asking him to marry her). He now had the hardest time containing his laugh, but oh boy, this was so worth it.
He himself had met Hojo before, so he had expected things not to go smoothly — not that he had warned Inuyasha about it — but this… This was amazing.
At first, almost disappointed, he had thought that his plan wouldn't work. Hojo had welcomed Inuyasha warmly and hadn't taken offense in Inuyasha calling him 'Hobo'. Inuyasha had seemed to relax slightly at how open the young man was. That would have been a very saddening turn for the interview, at least in Miroku's mind.
However, that had changed because of how enthusiastic Hojo was being, and it only resulted in Inuyasha giving shorter and shorter answers. The interview was now at a standstill, and it felt like a long agony, with both of the men painfully trying to make their way through it.
Until Inuyasha snapped, only a few moments ago, and started answering questions extremely aggressively. At this rate, this would end with a murder.
At least, that was what he thought, until the door opened and a joyful Kagome stepped in.
"Hi there, Hojo!" she chimed.
Several things happened at the same time. Inuyasha turned towards the intruder with a growl, Hojo greeted Kagome with such relief it seemed she had just saved his life, which Miroku would probably say she had, and Miroku turned towards her, slightly surprised but all the more pleased by her interruption.
"Ayumi said you could use some help with the interview," Kagome said, her eyes shining with mischievousness. "So, who is it you… Oh."
"Kagome," Hojo said, "let me introduce you to…"
"Inuyasha Taishô," she completed. "We met."
She gave Inuyasha a bright smile, before turning to greet Miroku as well. At that point, Inuyasha wanted nothing more than to run away and hide under a rock for the rest of his life. He was pretty sure he was blushing. If that was the case, Miroku would never let him live that one down. He could consider himself lucky that the pervert was too busy openly flirting with Kagome to pay attention to him.
But then, once again, he felt his hands almost itch with the need to draw her.
At first, after their meeting, he had forbidden himself from doing so, thinking he would just forget her as quickly as possible. Self-control had never been his forte though, and he had ended up sketching her on the back of the napkin on which she had written his speech. He hadn't been happy with how she looked like, though, and for the first time, he had wondered if his art would ever be able to replicate her.
By painting her, she would always, necessarily, be motionless, and that just felt wrong, when it came to this girl. Her energy, her life, it seemed to be made to be in motion. Slowly, he hadn't just wanted to paint her, but he had started to view it as a challenge. She had plagued his mind more than once, and yet, he had never tried to call her. He still didn't think asking her to pose for him was a good idea and was still battling within himself on that one. He also didn't want to look like Miroku. He wasn't trying to paint her naked — though the idea wasn't exactly repulsing.
Oh, and then there was the fact that he had no clue on how to do it. Even if he had wanted to, which he kept repeating himself he didn't, he wouldn't have been able to. He wouldn't have known what to say or how to do it.
Yes, his best friend was the master when it came to that stuff, but he was not going to infringe the most important rule in his life, which was to not ask Miroku for anything, unless it was absolutely necessary.
And as he looked at her, he started to think that maybe, just maybe, it would be absolutely necessary.
"The hell are you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough.
Miroku shook his head and resisted the urge of smacking his forehead in despair. Fortunately, Kagome didn't seem to mind. She pulled a chair and sat down next to Hojo, glancing down at his notes.
"As I said, I'll be helping Hojo," she answered kindly.
"Keh! You don't know the first thing 'bout art, how are you supposed to do something like that?"
"Watch me," she simply said before looking up at Hojo. "Hm, is that it? How long have you been doing this?"
"An hour and a half," he said, seemingly on the verge of tears.
"Don't worry," she smiled, patting his hand reassuringly.
She then turned towards Inuyasha.
"So," she started, "what do you want me to call you? Is Inuyasha okay or would you prefer Mr Taishô?"
Saying that, she set her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm. Inuyasha felt himself blushing, once more, and cursed himself, once more. He was used to people disliking him. Before Kikyô, girls tended to give up on him quickly — he may have been hot and rich, but that wasn't worse handling his shitty temper. After Kikyô, he was the one who did his best to drive them away. However, he had never met anyone who made it so hard for him to do so.
"Mr Taishô," he still managed to growl, although, truth be told, he would have loved to hear her saying his name.
"Good," she nodded without losing her smile. "Mr Taishô, your works were recently chosen to be in an exhibit at the Goshinboku. How do you feel about it?"
"'s not like it was my first time," he mumbled. Miroku could have punched him. Why exactly was he so much more of an ass with the lovely Kagome than he had been with Hojo?
"Of course not," Kagome replied with such confidence that no one could have guessed it was the first time she ever heard of that and without missing a beat, "but is it really all there is to it for you? Is it just another name on the list of museum where your work can be found, or does it change something for you?"
"W-well," Inuyasha mumbled, slightly taken aback by her assurance and the way her eyes didn't leave him, like he was the most interesting person in the world at the moment, "I mean, I don't paint for others. I paint for myself. It's nice if they like it, but it doesn't really change anything for me personally."
Both Hojo and Miroku rose an eyebrow. That was probably longer than all of the answers Inuyasha had given them so far, combined.
"I see," Kagome said, shifting slightly so that her chin was now on her interwoven fingers. "So what is painting about for you, then? If it's not for the glory nor the money, what do you find in it?"
"I-I guess it's about… expression," Inuyasha stuttered, feeling a bit uncomfortable under all her attention. "There are things that you can't say with words. Or at least, I can't. So… Erm… Yeah. That's the only thing that matters to me when I paint. Saying the things I wouldn't be able to say with words."
Kagome nodded. Hojo was taking notes and the recording device was working. This should go well.
The interview felt much more like a conversation to Kagome. She followed the questions Hojo had prepared, but that didn't stop her from enjoying it. Inuyasha, on the other hand, was unable to relax. While it felt really nice, to have her actually paying attention to him and seemingly having fun, even cracking a couple of jokes, she was just doing her job. There was no way she could really be interested, was there?
Well, that was actually Kagome's secret to being so good with people: she was interested. Most of the time, whatever it was that the conversation was about, as long as the other person was into it, it wouldn't be hard for her to feel the same. Even when she brought up more technical sides of Inuyasha's profession, ones she didn't really understand, she found herself doing her best to follow his answers.
Alright, so maybe there were a few times when his behavior almost got to her and she felt like punching him or at least retorting something snappy to him, but she managed to hold herself, and every time, a confused expression appeared on his face, followed by a sheepish look at her. It was almost like he was trying to make her angry, only to feel sorry for doing so when she stayed perfectly composed.
She really didn't understand what was going on there, to be honest. Had it been her interview, or had she really been having a conversation with him, that would have been what she'd have tried to know. She found herself disappointed at having to follow Hojo's questions. Of course, it was his job, but if you asked her, the questions were boring. They were barely scratching she surface.
Hojo cared about the painter; she wanted to know more about the man.
What would it look like if she asked him out on a date right after the end of the interview? Would it be a bad thing?
Did she care?
Finally, she folded the paper on which Hojo had written his questions and handed it to him while leaning back on her chair and slightly stretching herself.
"Well, I think we're done," she said, smiling professionally at both Miroku and Inuyasha.
Inuyasha had expected relief to flood over him, and he was more than annoyed when not only it didn't came, but he almost felt disappointed. He couldn't believe he had let himself be so affected by it all. One, because he shouldn't, and two, because it wasn't like she was actually interested. He couldn't believe he craved someone's attention so much that he had been fooled by her act.
"Let's go, Miroku," he snarled.
The man sighed and stood up slowly. He grabbed Kagome's hand and kissed it, in a true seducer's fashion, before Inuyasha grabbed him by the back of his coat and yanked him back. The door slammed behind them and without further ado, they were gone. This caused Kagome to wrinkle her nose slightly, and then to sigh heavily.
There hadn't even been a goodbye, nor a glance in her direction by the man she would have wanted to look at her.
"Thank God it's over," Hojo breathed out, causing her to laugh. It must have been really hard on him, if he was that happy now. "I don't know what I would have done without you, Kagome."
"Oh, don't worry about that, you're very welcome. As a matter of fact, I was there to ask you something…"
"Anything you want! I think I owe you at least that."
She opened her mouth to ask him questions about Naraku and Onigumo, but then she turned to look back at the now closed door. She bit her lip, glanced back at Hojo, yelling an "I'll be back in a sec", and ran out.
She sprinted towards the elevator, and cursed when she found it gone. But now that she had taken her decision, she was not going to let that stop her.
She quickly found the stairs, and started running down. She knew for a fact that you could beat the elevators, if you were going fast enough. By 'knew for a fact', please understand that her nineteen-years-old younger brother, Sôta, had raced them himself. She was far from being as athletic as he was, though, and despite being in fairly good physical shape, she was still huffing and puffing when she arrived on the first floor.
She saw the back of Inuyasha's long raven hair and Miroku's ponytail as they were exiting the building. She felt a tiny satisfaction at seeing she wasn't too far behind, but she still hadn't caught up with them.
Time to make a run for it, Kagome!
Inuyasha had heard it. The sigh Kagome had emitted once he had left. He could have sworn it was a sigh of relief. Miroku, being only human, hadn't, of course, but if he had any doubt that she had been interested in him, that was enough to bring him back to reality.
Had he had his dog ears, they would have dropped with defeat.
He had walked inside the elevator with Miroku. The man had eyed him suggestively as soon as the doors had closed. "Kagome really is—"
"Say another word and I'll rip your throat."
He didn't sound like he was kidding and so, for once in his life, Miroku held his tongue.
They were walking out of the building when Inuyasha heard the steps of someone running. He turned, almost as a reflex, and could only catch Kagome when, as she hadn't expected him to stop, she crashed into him.
"What the hell's wrong with you, woman?" he yelled, his hands grabbing her waist and helping her retrieve her balance before quickly releasing her.
She blinked at him. Was he really going to make her regret her decision only minutes after she'd taken it?
"Did we forget something, Kagome?" Miroku asked, his voice measured.
She glanced at him, and found herself blushing. The man's smile widened. Oh? Oooh.
"Fuck off," Inuyasha suddenly snarled at him.
With a sigh, Miroku did step back. Evaluating the distance he had put between them and judging he could probably still hear them if he didn't set his voice lower, Inuyasha leaned towards Kagome, towering over her.
She opened her mouth, not knowing what she was going to tell him — if she was going to lie because, after all, maybe he was too much of an ass for her, if she was going to ask him out, or whatever else she could do — but he beat her to it.
"I want to paint you," he blurted out.
This was probably a mistake, but if he could keep himself in check, he would, hopefully, get her out of his system and be able to go back to his life.
"Excuse me?"
"I want to paint you." He pulled a pen out of one of his pockets and grabbed her wrist. She was too surprised to protest when he started writing on it. "Call me when you're free."
There was a short silence, before he added, suddenly looking a lot more insecure and staring at his feet: "If you want to, that is."
"I'd love to," she answered immediately, her mouth moving without her mind having any say in it.
He seemed to get flustered at her answer, but it got worse when she added "It doesn't have to be naked, right?"
"W-what? N- I'm not… This… You don't need to…"
She would have loved to stay and torture him a while longer, but she really needed to get those informations from Hojo.
"I'll call you."
He looked at her with suspicion, and she couldn't help but chuckle.
"I really need to go right now, but I promise I'll call you. Mr. Taishô."
"Don't fuckin' call me that, I—"
With a laugh, Kagome had turned back and ran towards the elevator. All Inuyasha could do was watch her go. Just while he was going to go back to torturing himself, he heard Miroku's snicker, and he suddenly remembered that the painter had been there the entire time.
Shit.
He was in for a very long day…
Alright, time for the plot to get moving! And also, of course, Inuyasha and Kagome meeting again, eheh. I've read many stories in which Hojo is Kagome's ex and turned out to be a jerk, but he always felt like a nice guy to me so I figured they could still be friends afterwards.
I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Thanks to those of you who added the story to your following list! Please leave a review if you like the story so far!
Dya.
