Disclaimer: We've gone through this, remember?
A/N: Yo! I'm back, and feeling better than the last chapter! Maybe this one won't be so dreary, but I can't guarantee anything. I left you a cliffie last time, if you remember (who couldn't?), and I know, I'm really evil. Let's just say that Kagome's personality reflects mine quite a bit...But I worked hard on making this chapter extra long and extra interesting for the fans! All my reviewers, this is for you! The song in the beginning of this chapter is 'Now That I'm Gone.'
You can't blame me that much for updating late...it's because the Inu gang keeps running away...
Special Thanks To...
Beautiful.Black.Joy, Shia Demon of Wind, Sienna-shirou, kagome 1995 (new reviewer!!)
Chapter 15 - Too Fake To Be True
"Huh." Kagome muttered as she stared out the window in her bedroom. A few inches of snow were piled on the ground, but it was no longer falling from the sky. The clouds had moved and the sun was just barely poking through, the morning rays casting shadows on the snow. She was still in her black t-shirt and sweats that she wore to bed. It was only six-thirty in the morning, the earliest that she had woken up in a while. Well...she had slept for a few hours, anyway. Practically all through the night, she lay there with her eyes open, staring into darkness, twisting and turning with dark nightmares the few times she did manage to doze off.
Kea was probably up already, but Kagome hadn't bothered to leave her room. She couldn't believe it was only Wednesday, still two more days until the weekend. School seemed so pointless now, but she didn't dare skip. Her mother would sooner or later find out, and besides, people would start questioning her disappearance. It was bad enough when her and Sango were 'supposedly' pictured on that magazine cover. That made everyone suspicious, so it wouldn't do any good for her to start skipping school over a week later.
Of course, if she had decided to miss school for a few days, Sango would just come over and drag her ass right back to school.
With a heavy sigh, she pulled herself away from the window and pulled the inky black curtains back over the glass. As slowly as possible, she pulled off her pajamas and pulled on a pair of loose gray jeans and a dark purple long-sleeved shirt. Gray, thick socks were pulled on over her freezing feet, and an even darker purple hoodie. She trudged lazily through her bathroom door and turned on the light, which was way too bright in her opinion.
Kagome examined her face grudgingly in the mirror for a few moments. Dark bags were circling under her eyes, contrasting greatly against her unusually pale face. Her brown eyes seemed dull, not vibrant like they usually were. The ebony black hair she had always taken care of was spilling lifelessly around her shoulders.
It looked like she had died a damn three days ago.
She reached for some foundation crap her mother had bought her and she never used...until now. With her finger, she dipped her finger into the small bottle. The pale, creamy liquid felt cold as she dabbed it under her eyes. The dark blue bags seemed to disappear when she rubbed it in carefully. And then she through the bottle in the cupboard under the sink, swearing to herself that she was never going to use it again.
That tedious task completed, Kagome began making her way downstairs. No banister today - she would probably fly off the end, and then instead of getting up, she would fall asleep on the floor.
Sounds of omelets sizzling in the ban and a heavenly bacon-y scent drew her to the kitchen, where Kea was standing in front of the stove. She glanced at Kagome in mild surprise while she wiped her hands on a towel and turned to face her daughter.
"What are you doing up so early, Kagome? Is there something you need?" Her voice, always caring and gentle, sounded only slightly concerned. You would be too if your daughter, whom never woke up a minute before a quarter eight, was facing you at six-thirty.
Kagome shrugged tiredly, stifling a yawn. It wouldn't do to make her mother worried, although the task wasn't a very hard one. "Nah. I'm just a little tired. That's all. Probably stayed up a little too late last night from doing homework."
Ha. As if. That was probably the biggest lie ever. She didn't even finish her homework.
Her mother nodded curtly, her lips pursed. 'I bet she doesn't believe me...I wouldn't either.' Well, to look on the...not as dim side, Tai and Rizu were coming to Tokyo sometime after school. They could go...somewhere. Maybe they could even go find Naraku and beat the bloody hell out of him.
The thought made her smirk as she trudged into the living room. After pressing a few buttons and adjusting the volume, music was blasting through the stereo speakers. She turned it up loud enough so Souta would wake up - hell, she probably woke up the whole neighborhood.
"You could never stare me straight in the eye.
Maybe you were just afraid.
I knew that as I walked by,
You would watch me go,
Hating me, but never able to do anything about it.
So what do you say,
Now that I'm gone?"
"Now that I'm gone,
Now that I'm gone,
Now that I'm gone and dead to you.
Do you see my face in your head?
Wondering at that second if I had shed,
The tears that you always wanted me to.
Always wanted to see me cry.
So what do you do,
Now that I'm gone and dead to you?"
Sango's voice came in with the second verse, but Kagome was distracted when she heard what sounded like someone tripping on the stairs. Sure enough, when she leaned over the edge of the couch, Souta was sprawled face-down on the ground.
"Hey, squirt, you should really be more careful," Kagome chided, resting her chin in her hands. "You're gonna really hurt yourself one of these times."
Souta grumbled something before straightening himself, hair mussed entirely and still in his pajamas. Kagome may have looked dead, but he looked like he was still sleeping. "Turn down the music!" he exclaimed, plugging his fingers in his ears.
Kagome just rolled her eyes and relented, turning the music down so it could only be heard in the living room. Souta muttered something about getting dressed and started to make his way back up the stairs. By now, Kea was setting plates and chopsticks on the table, as she did every morning.
"Kagome, dear, I have to leave early for the office today. I hope you don't mind, but I'll be taking off in about ten minutes." Kea's voice rang out from the dining room, and even over the music, Kagome heard it loud and clear. She frowned.
That was one of the many things she hated about her mother's job. No matter what time of day it was, she always seemed to be busy working, either at the office or at home. And most of the time, it was rather annoying. If Daichi, her father, was there, then it would be different. Everything would be different.
"Yeah, sure mom. Just go ahead," Kagome assured, but she really wished that she hadn't. She knew this had just as much of an impact on Souta as it did on her. He was younger - he deserved to be around his mother more often, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen anytime soon.
Kea came into the living room, and from the other side of the couch, she wrapped her arms around Kagome's neck. "I know this is hard on you, sweetheart. Souta too. I'll take a vacation leave soon, and I promise we can spend a few weeks together."
Kagome snorted when her mother left the room, probably hurrying off to grab her briefcase. She could never hate her mother, but a few weeks didn't sound like much time - that span of time was nothing compared to the amount of time she had been gone. But she never said that in front of her mother's face - it would only make her feel bad.
As Kagome slumped her way into the dining room, Souta came downstairs. It was only six forty-five. She groaned inwardly and leaned back in her chair - if she could, she would stay home from school and sleep all day.
She glared seethingly out the window, at the snow, at the trees lining the white backyard. She wondered if she would be able to question Kea about the guitar. But whenever Kagome thought about it, she felt suddenly nervous. Why? That was a question even she, herself, could not answer. And that was what irritated her most.
With an annoyed groan, she let her arm hang over the edge of the chair, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. She heard a pan being set on the table, and without turning around, she addressed Kea: "Hey, mom, have you seen dad's guitar lately?"
There was silence. An overbearing silence that was almost too much for Kagome to handle. The only thing she heard was her wildly pounding heart - no more footsteps in the kitchen, no more of Souta's quips. She didn't even hear Buyo purring and rolling around on the carpet, as he usually did every morning.
When Kea did speak, her voice was quiet and stiff. "No, dear...what happened to it?"
Kagome closed her eyes, letting her mother's response sink in. It was exactly what she was dreading to hear. When Buyo finally flounced onto the chair next to her, she responded just as quietly. "That's exactly what I would like to know."
Miroku yawned sleepily at his laptop. He had been working almost all night, trying to find out as much information as possible about Naraku and Yokoshima Records. So far he had found zip, nothing; as far as he was concerned, Yokoshima Records wasn't even an actual record company. He had once made a phone call to Sango, sharing his progress, which, thus far, hadn't been very much.
Finally, with a groan of defeat, he pushed the flashing red power button and closed the top. Using his legs, he pushed backwards on his wheel-y chair and toppled backwards onto his bed. The lights were out, but he could read his digital alarm clock from his bed. Six thirty. Surely grandfather would be checking in on him soon to make sure he was awake. And he had barely gotten a wink of sleep.
Miroku stretched his arms over his head and arched his back, listening to the satisfying bone-cracking noise. He cast off his pajamas and through them carelessly to the ground, now standing only in his boxers, and began rummaging through his closet. He settled, without much thought, on a pair of black jeans and a gray and white button-up short-sleeved shirt, a white tattoo-ish design circling the sleeves and hem.
As sure as sure could be, there was a knock on the door just as Miroku buttoned the last button. His grandfather Moushin opened the door and flicked on the light - his lightbulb cast a red glow around the room, forming shadows on the dark gray walls.
"Ah, Miroku, I'm glad to see your awake already," the old man greeted, smiling widely. He was hunched over and bluntly short, and carried a staff around with him everywhere. Something about holding on to his true roots, being a monk and all. Sometimes, Miroku thought he was just crazy.
Miroku retied his hair into a rattail at the nape of his neck. He didn't get to take a shower, thanks to his busy night. With a tired and long yawn, he managed to nod his head, choking out a "yeah, I'm awake."
Moushin nodded his head before turning around to leave. "Breakfast is on the table, Miroku. Come down soon, if you like." And then the old man left.
Miroku sighed. It was only him and Moushin living in this two-story house, which most of the time felt empty and unoccupied. When his father died...well, no one knew why, his grandfather came to live with the young Miroku and promised to take care of him. His mother had died at birth. He couldn't remember much about either of his parents, but that was just as well.
With deadened legs, he trudged out into the darkened hallway. Despite it being a two-story house, it wasn't very large, but certainly wasn't a trashed, run-down shack. There was ample food, enough where Miroku could always eat whatever he wanted, when he wanted.
He couldn't have asked for a better place to live, with the exception of his parents living there with him.
Breakfast's scent wafted into his nose - Moushin was a good cook, and his food never disappointed. Which was why Miroku hurried into their kitchen/dining room - food was already placed on the table, chopsticks awaiting.
Despite the fact that Miroku hard barely slept last night, and he was still having his doubts about this so-called 'Yokoshima Records,' Miroku thought it would be the start of a good day.
Inuyasha waited...and waited...and waited...For the love of God, he'd been waiting for a whole ten minutes!!
He was waiting for...well, he didn't know what exactly he was waiting for, probably Miroku, but his patience was running out. Or maybe he was just in a big hurry to get to school - yeah, right, as if that would ever happen. No matter what it came down to, Inuyasha would never admit to himself that he wanted to see Kagome again, to make sure she was okay, at least.
'Course, if any of the guys heard about this (or any of the girls, for that matter), they would rip his head off in a second without hesitation. Especially Bankotsu and his supposedly gay brother, Jakotsu. They were seven brothers in all...no one knew where the hell the other five were, probably either dropped out or in college somewhere. But Kagome and Sango had always been deemed two people to stay away from, to ignore completely. He could tell the rest of his 'clique' were getting angry. He hadn't been hanging out with them as much, not even at lunch, and it didn't take an idiot to figure out why.
Inuyasha grumbled a few incoherent choice words under his breath, tapping his foot on the carpet and glaring at every single inanimate object on the other side of the window. In truth, it was only quarter after seven. Miroku usually didn't get to his house 'til around seven thirty. So he was waiting for nothing.
With an irritated groan, the hanyou pushed himself away from the window. Sesshomaru was in the kitchen, sipping black coffee as he did every morning. His half-brother was out of school, soon to attend college. Inutaisho was probably at work, while Izayoi was most likely still sleeping. His parents were...odd, to put it bluntly.
Sesshomaru didn't say anything to him as he plodded up the stairs and into his bedroom. His black comforter was in a jumble, half of it on the floor. He plopped gracelessly in the middle of it, picking up a notebook randomly thrown on the floor. Inside he had wrote...nothing, but that was going to change now. He picked up one of his black pens from under his bed...ah, the luxuries of having a trashed room.
Kagome wrote songs, right? And so did Sango. Inuyasha couldn't figure out why he wouldn't be able to write one. Sure, he could be stupid sometimes, and most of the time just plain ignorant, but, well...he figured that if he wrote a song, it would be just as good as Kagome's. His mother had always said he was competitive.
It may have been a girlish thing to do, and maybe not very cool at all, but Inuyasha was bored, and he didn't particularly care. It wasn't like anyone else was going to see it, after all. Except for one problem: he couldn't figure out what to write about. But it was only two minutes later that his pen was moving, scrawling his tiny, careless print on the lined paper.
When he had finished the first verse, he capped the pen and threw it back on the floor. His eyes traveled through each line carefully, critically observing his handiwork. He didn't think he did that bad. And for the heck of it, he tore the paper out of his notebook and stuffed it in one of his pockets.
And it was just then that Miroku stepped into his room, panting heavily.
"Man, Inuyasha, that's what I call a run," Miroku choked out between sharp intakes of breath. The bottoms of his jeans were wet from the snow, black Pumas still on his feet. "Hey...whatcha got there?" He was pointed at one of Inuyasha's hands, which was still inside his front pocket.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Miroku. You're paranoid - get a frickin' life." Inuyasha scowled before he stood up, pausing a moment to grab a black hoodie from a pile of clothes that were covering his red carpet.
Miroku yawned and shook his head, knowing all too well that Inuyasha was hiding something from him. But it wouldn't do any good to press him now, maybe later when Kagome and Sango were around. They could probably force it from him. If worse came to worst, he could always tell Sesshomaru that Inuyasha was making fun of his fuzzy...thing that he usually liked to wear over his shoulder. And when Inuyasha was getting the bloody pulp beat out of him, he could steal it.
Either way, Miroku would find out. One way or another.
Sango trekked her way across the snow-covered yard and to Kagome's front door. She knocked three times before stepping inside, as she usually did. She was guessing Kea had left for work already, but she had yet to find Kagome or Souta.
Miroku had called Sango around one in the morning. And what she had heard was shocking, not to mention suspicious. She planned to tell Kagome about it.
There was definitely something more going on, something deeper that they couldn't figure out. And it was eating away at Sango, so much that she could barely get to sleep at night. When she did, her dreams were invaded by nightmares, none of which made any sense to her at all. They were clashed images of people and different places; dark places that were impossible to distinguish. She figured that by the end of the month, she would go crazy from the effort.
Pounding footsteps snapped her out of her reverie, and now standing at the bottom of the stairs was Kagome. She seemed exhausted, not only because her eyes were barely open, but from the way she walked across the living. Sango figured that by second period, Kagome would be completely out of it.
"Hey, Kags, you feeling alright? You sure as hell don't look like it." Sango and Kagome had never been one to beat around the bush - when they wanted to say something, they said it bluntly and clearly.
Kagome nodded and yawned, loudly, may I add, her eyes seeming to focus on one spot on the floor. "No sleep. I feel like the walking dead. More likely than not, I'll be napping by math." As if to prove her point, she began rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm.
Kagome had her backpack under her arm. Her bangs were blocking the view from her eyes, but Sango could only guess that they were only a fourth of the way open. Kagome not sleeping was a rarity. She was always sleeping, whether she was actually tired or not. But now, she seemed more than just physically exhausted; she appeared mentally drained. Which would take a lot, when it came to the sixteen year old high school who was always ready to take something on. Sango doubted Kagome would be fighting with Inuyasha today. Most likely, she would do something along the lines of ignoring him.
A few moments after Kagome, Souta came tumbling down the stairs. He ran through the living room and sprinted past Sango. There was a whoosh, and he was out the door before she could blink. She mentally shrugged it off - sometimes, the kid could be plain strange.
Kagome slipped on her black Vans that had been thrown lazily on the rack beside the door. It was only now that she realized how many pairs of Vans, sandals, Pumas, and other random shoes she owned. But she quickly pushed that thought to the corner of her mind - it didn't matter, at the moment. And frankly, she didn't care all that much about it.
"Come on, Sango, we better get going. Ms. Rikei already chewed me out for being late once. Mom'll kill me if I'm late again." She stalked - or sleepwalked - out the front door. Cold wind bit at her face, giving the sensation of little tremors of what felt like needles poking her cheeks and face.
She stuffed her hands inside her gray jean pockets as far as they could go. Kagome could hear Sango's footsteps crunching in the snow, the wind whistling, and cars speeding by every so often. The sounds were familiar - she heard them every single morning, but at times she would wish everything would be silent.
Kagome's thoughts wandered back to her...'dream' with the clown. She still couldn't figure out what the clown had meant by 'ace.' It held no meaning to her whatsoever, and she was too occupied to try and figure any of it out for more than five minutes. Her mind, feeling ultimately weary and just plain tired, and wouldn't cooperate - the only thing it thought about, for the most part, was sleep.
As they rounded a corner, a car horn blaring at them for no apparent reason, Sango saw Kohaku and Souta walking together, chatting away happily. The two boys were leaned in close to each other, as if they were sharing secrets, once in a while throwing their heads back to laugh. She could remember when her and Kagome had been the same - so oblivious to everything. What had ever happened to that?
Why was everything so damn complicated?
With a small sigh, Sango turned to look at Kagome, only slightly shocked to see that she was looking back at her. Kagome gave her the faintest smile, and Sango returned it weakly. It seemed, that ever since Naraku had come into the picture, it was almost impossible to ever get by one minute without thinking about him. Which was one reason why he was so creepy.
Kagome whipped her head around, hair flying wildly from behind her. It wasn't long before Miroku and Inuyasha rounded the corner ahead of them. She snorted and turned her head away again so she was facing the street. They were like leeches - once they got attached, it was as hard as hell to get them off.
"Ah, my beloved Sango," Miroku greeted between pants, wrapping his arms around Sango...she drew the line when his hand was wandering too far down for comfort. He earned a hard smack across his face, and in its wake was a red, pulsing hand print. Sango had quite an arm.
Kagome heard the contact of palm against Miroku's face and smirked lightly. "Always the lecher, aren't you, Miroku?" He only responded with a very childish pout. When she actually caught a glimpse of his face, she leaned in closer and frowned. "Who in the hell taught you how to use concealer?"
The question had popped out of nowhere, but the subject was hard to avoid. There were splotches of too-dark concealer under his eyes, and in some spots, there were fragments of a dark-blue color showing through.
Miroku ducked his head, a poor attempt to hide his face. "No one," he responded sheepishly, and then raised his face slowly. "I didn't get any sleep last night. Stayed up too much, doing research about Naraku."
Sango used the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe away the hapless attempt to cover the dark circles under his eyes. "Don't get any ideas," she griped, pulling her hand away quickly. "Now that we're on the subject, did you find anything else out?"
Inuyasha continued watching from the sidelines. Except when he heard Naraku's name - it was the only thing that could spike his attention. "What d'you mean?" he snapped angrily, afraid he had missed out on something important.
"Well, as far as I can tell, Yokoshima Records isn't even an actual record company. There was nothing about him on the net, not even a link. Which would most likely be why we've never heard of, or actually noticed, the building. It's all just a lie."
Kagome froze. Her heart jumped to her throat, pulse increased at least tenfold. She tore her eyes away from Sango's and to the ground. Her mind went blank, completely and totally emptied. The last thing she had been thinking about disappeared, vanished to some other part unconscious part of her head.
He laughed snidely, teeth bared in a feral snarl. She snapped her gaze away and tried to think - think of a plan, of some way to get out of the room. But with her mind in a current state of panic, it was impossible to comprehend anything.
"Give up," he taunted quietly, so close to her face that she could feel his hot breath on her ear. "There's no use trying anymore."
Kagome began fidgeting; shuffling her feet, twiddling her fingers, anything to keep her distracted from the three sets of eyes that were staring at her. "I know," she responded quietly, so much so that even Inuyasha had to strain to hear. "I know all about it."
Stephenie: :stare:: So...let me get this straight...you went out, eating leaves, and then played hide and go seek...and then you played 'pull tag' all the way here?
Kagome: Well...yeah...haven't you ever heard of keeping the kid in you alive?
Inuyasha: You know...that poison oak didn't taste that bad...
::Everyone stares at Inu::
Sango: Besides...we need to...uh...Watch our Soap Opera!! What's it called again?
Miroku: Ensenada Del Amante !
Stephenie: But...that's not a real soap...
Shippou: So, uh, BYE! Bob the Builder's on!
A/N: MWAHAHA! Another cliffie! It's ten thirty...and I'm really hyper. I just got back from a volleyball gang...and earlier, I got my hair cut. For once in my whole life, I have gone almost a whole day without being a complete crab! Anyway, there's actually a meaning to this, so don't lose hope in me! (YET!) I'll update as soon as possible! R&R!
I'm back, aren't I? Please don't kill me...I'll update soon! I swear!!
