Blame It on the Changes.
Chapter Two:
His entire body ached as he came to. 'Something's off,' he thought. He was cold, incredibly cold, and it was pitch-black. He wanted to groan, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he realized that he was surrounded only by dirt. Stinking, rotten dirt. Dammit all, how the fuck had he gotten himself into this mess? How did he always get himself into these damned messes?
He tried desperately to yell, to scream, to cry out her name – "KAGOME!"
Nothing could come out. Nothing could penetrate the thick, cold ground that had been piled around him.
As his lungs began to burn with the aching need for fresh air, he shoved his claws savagely through the dirt, shoving it out of his way. Slowly –agonizingly – he dug his way back to the surface. Once he realized that he wasn't buried alive any longer, he gulped in deep breath after deep breath before letting out a shrill, almost violent call:
"KAGOME! KA-GO-ME! Where are you, KAGOME?!"
He broke down, remembering the look on her face the last time he saw her. That smile… That wonderful smile…
He remembered dying.
He leaned over, his legs still trapped beneath the turned dirt, and he sobbed, terrified of what had happened after his demise.
"Kagome…" he whimpered.
"Inuyasha?"
His head shot up, tear-filled eyes expectant, hopeful…
Kaede stared down at him in complete and utter shock. "Ye still live?"
He blinked the tears away, relief flooding through him. "Yea, Baba, I am. Help me outta this grave, will ya? Living people don't belong in these fuckers…"
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The strobes were especially bright as they flashed around the girls. Eri was to Kagome's left, and they were coming right into the front doors of the club. Aimi was busy working the bar on the other side of the place, and they could see her twin, Airi, peeking out from behind the curtains, backstage. They were good girls, both with long, sleek, black hair and the prettiest brownish green eyes. That's why they both worked there; Airi got great tips in her G-string, and Aimi received amazing tips at the bar. They really were quite the pair – tall, lean, with a hint of muscle. They used to strip together, but Aimi got tired of shedding her clothes for the enjoyment of the male sex.
Eri and Kagome still had no problem with it. The way they looked at it, all they had to do was squeeze their bare tits together and shake their asses to pay the rent.
They had started off years ago with an act stripping together; it made them more comfortable when they first came in to do the "dishonorable" job.
By that point, obviously, they were used to it.
Eri took to the stage, and Kagome made her way to the VIP room in the back. She heard whooping and scattered cheering and just knew that Eri was already swinging around that pole. She was a daredevil, always had been; while Kagome still had her furious blush and nude hang-ups, her best friend was always coming up with newer and scantier ideas.
Kagome only did topless; she peeled off her shimmery top and jeans as soon as she was in the VIP room door, but she left on her hot pink panties. A young guy sat in one of the far back corners; she made her way to him, her black stilettos clacking loudly against the clean, red tile floor. He was a usual, but Kagome never could remember his name. He was foreign, that was all she knew – and he was rich. She smiled as she reached him. He always left huge tips.
He had dark hair that was cut short and amethyst eyes; he was of average build, average height, and he wore above-average quality clothes. The man also had a very thick, very strange accent. His Japanese was flawless, though anyone could tell he was definitely not American. He'd been coming to this damnable place at least since Kagome started; hell, Eri even remembered him coming in for kickass lap dances when she first got hired on.
Kagome's hips swayed as she came to stand right in front of the foreign lecher, wearing nothing but her stilettos and hot pink cheek-baring panties. She ran her hands along her taut tummy and brought them up to cup her breasts. Her thumbs felt rough against her hardened nipples – it was always chilly in the VIP room – but her hands felt so smooth. That was always surprising; she'd expected that the years she had spent fighting youkai and ningen alike in the Sengoku Jidai would've demolished the skin on her palms.
His eyes lit up, but his expression remained passive, emotionless even. Kagome smirked just a bit, slightly amused by his lack of reaction.
"So," she started in her soft tone, raising her voice just high enough so that she could be heard over the loud hip-hop music that was blaring from the main part of the strip joint, "you're not from the islands, are you?"
He smiled finally, his dark eyes flicking upward to meet hers for just a moment before returning to watch her nearly naked body twist and contort to the fast-paced music.
"You know that I'm not, Suzume-sama," he replied very politely, using Kagome's stage name for privacy's sake. He leaned back in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head. He was obviously getting comfortable, which made her wonder if he was more excited about the stripping part or the idea of having a conversation with a really hot, mostly nude onna dancing in front of him.
She smiled prettily at him, batting her eyes just a bit. She raised her hands above her head and turned smoothly, shaking her ass gently but enthusiastically as she did. "You're very polite, sir," she told him, making a complete spin and smirking at him over her shoulder a moment before turning to look at the door, her hips never pausing.
He snickered quietly, watching her with a very intense look in his eyes. "The name's Channing, Suzume-sama. Channing Chase."
Suddenly, Kagome found his arm extended and felt his fingertips graze her hip. Startled, she jumped away out of reflex, and her heels slid on the tile. Her left hip collided first with the hard, cold, unforgiving floor as her entire body crashed downward in a heap. Kagome cried out sharply and grabbed her side. She glanced up at Channing; he still sat in his comfy seat, his arm still held out to the empty space that I'd been standing in, his face frozen in a shocked expression. She blinked, staring at him, and her cheeks burned their classic red as realization dawned: He was trying to shake my hand, as with a proper foreign introduction, she thought, feeling stupid immediately.
Kagome shook her head, chuckling at the stunned expression on his face. She was still worried about Miroku's wandering hands it seemed, thus the extreme reaction.
Aimi came running into the small VIP room right then, her pretty eyes wide with worry. They widened even more when they caught sight of Kagome lying on the hard floor and Channing looking as guilty as they come.
"What happened in here?" the bartender practically cried out, her voice shrill and tinged with anger. She shot Channing an angry, accusatory look. "Dr. Chase! You've been here plenty of times! You know our biggest rule: NEVER touch the girls!"
"B-But I didn't! I only meant to shake her hand! It – I-" The poor man was beside himself as Aimi came further into the room. He shot to his feet and helped her help Kagome back up to her shaky feet. The injured girl kicked off her heels with as little malice as she could manage and stared down at them hatefully. She hissed as Channing kneeled down on one knee and started poking and prodding her poor, already bruising leg.
"It might be fractured," he mumbled just loud enough for Aimi and Kagome to hear. "Help her get dressed; I'm taking her to the hospital to make sure."
"What the hell?" was Aimi's high-pitched response.
"Don't worry!" Channing shot back, getting back up to his feet and straightening himself. "I'm not going to try anything! I may be a pervert, but I try to be a good, honorable man."
"Like hell you're taking her anywhere!"
"Aimi! Channing!" Kagome interrupted, standing stiffly between them. "Chill out, you guys! I'll go to the damned hospital – I can take care of myself against one lousy perv." She shot a meaningful look at Aimi. "And you're footing the bill, mister!" she told Channing, turning to give him the dreaded Look.
He nodded nervously. "Of course, of course!"
'Poor guy,' Kagome thought as she hobbled alongside Aimi to reach the VIP room door and grab up her blue jeans and shiny, silver boatneck. She had to help the hurt girl pull the clothing on – and she also had to help defend her from Channing's wandering hands. Kagome sighed as the familiar feeling of fingertips grazing her skin and loud, echoing slapping sounds filled her senses once again, and she felt a strange sense of peace.
Now, if only there was something here to remind me of Inuyasha…
Kagome sat still for a moment after all the rest of the noises and sensations were drowned out. Nothing came. Nothing happened.
Eri met them at the front door of the joint, fully dressed and overflowing with worry. She sucker punched Channing in the chest; he wheezed for quite some time during their adventure through the parking lot. After helping Kagome into the backseat of his car, Channing held the passenger side front door open for Eri before getting into the driver's seat, starting the car and pulling out into the still-busy streets of Tokyo.