A/N: I do not own Inuyasha or Goblin the Lonely and Great God

Important author's note at the end!

Chapter Nineteen

Grunting, Shinigami kicked the door of the car open with a string of grumbled curses. How dare that bastard leave him in the car for so long without coming back. Well if that was how the Goblin wanted to play it, then fine whatever. He would just go home first. Let the moron deal with the chick anyways. The almost-deity was so suave anyways, he probably had the whole situation under control. Fuming, he slapped his cap onto his head, feeling a shiver up his spine while his hair turned the dark color, and his abilities to see dulled a bit when his eyes gained their "human" appearance and he lost the glow to his natural gold ones. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his red leather jacket as he walked down the sidewalk, his thoughts as unamused as his personality.

Never did he think he would be so annoyed at another being like him. Afterall kindred spirits stay together right? And he and the asshole Sesshomaru were definitely types of spirits. But it was the unending arrogance of the older creature that bother him to no end. He was smug and proud and it made him so incredibly unbearable.

Trudging down the sidewalk, the Shinigami wondered if he should just make the walk to Nakameguro, which in all honesty wasn't that far of a go, or if he should just teleport. It was much harder for him the poof from one place to another, unlike his Goblin counterpart who could just walk through any door, but he did have the capability to travel freely. He just needed to make sure that the energy was saved and there for him to draw upon. If he drew on too much of it, he would have to wait for the reserves to recharge before he could jump from place to place again. With that thought, he found it more agreeable to just make the stupid walk. And the train system was an automatic no-no. He hated the thought of touching people or people touching him. The last thing he wanted at this time of night was to see some sap's future or how they would die.

Solitude was not a bad thing for him. In fact, at times he much rather preferred it. He did not have to worry about people letting him down or anyone getting in his way. So he figured not having to deal with the Goblin or the car ride back home was genuinely a blessing in disguise of him having to take extra cardio. It wasn't that he did not like exercise, in fact he found himself quite keen about running, but he really just wanted to be in bed watching the newest episode of Gintama. Instead he was wandering the streets, wondering which grim reaper's territory it was because he had yet to enter his own—he and another Shinigami (he didn't know who per-se, just one of his underlings) shared the area of Tokyo. It would be bad if his meandering was to be presumed as trespassing.

Not that his underlings would question him—but it would be bad manners and he did have some decorum to uphold.

The sound of fireworks drew his attention immediately and even put him on edge. As he turned, he realized he stood adjacent from the sidewalk in front of what seemed to be a school. They must have been having some sort of festival. Tipping his head to the side, he walked through the gates of the school following his nose. More often than not these sorts of events had plenty of food, and he was plenty hungry. His feet followed the trail his nose pursued tempted by the scents of takoyaki, fried rice, and most importantly fresh ramen. Now there was something that he felt more than willing to go after at ungodly hours of the night. It was bad enough the bastard Sesshomaru had dragged him out of the house to go save that girl...not that he really minded. He was glad the idiot was okay. But ramen. Ramen. That was something he would risk his life for anyday. Nothing beat the selection of noodles, the savory smell wafting from the cup, or the way the broth warmed the back of his throat and his stomach as he drank it down.

"Would you like a bowl, sir?" A girl asked eagerly once the Shinigami stopped in front of the desired stand.

"I wouldn't be standing here otherwise," he snorted reaching into his pocket to see if he could dig out any spare change. "Surprise me on what I get."

"Four hundred yen," chirped the girl as she began to assemble a small bowl for him around in the stand.

Dropping the change onto the counter, the Shinigami looked around at the other stands while he waited. The ones directly behind him were for the most parts food stands as well, with a few stands for entertainment craftily placed among them. To his right, there was a stand selling smaller snacks like dango which attracted quite a few people—and mostly children at that. He kept his hands tucked in his pockets so there would be no mistaken touches, he would liked to avoid any possibility of him seeing someone's death before his dinner. Given that sort of sight, it would make him lose his appetite.

Turning his head to the opposite side, his eyes wandered the stall. Unlike the others, it was neither a food stall nor a games stall. But instead, it was a wares stall. Assortments of goodies and other small tokens that were not at all expensive. His brown eyes searched for anything that might have been more than a meager fair gift. He had all but given up when the glint of fire from the cooking wares in the stall before him caused a glitter in the good's stall to catch his attention. Re-evaluating what was to his side, he took in all the goods again.

And then he paused.

A small shell, not much bigger than what might be a coat button, sat in a small dish with other sorts of jewelry. It was pale in color, with a rough texture around the grooves. Really, there was nothing all that interesting about the sea-shell other than it was a case rather than just a mere shell. Sitting in the center of it, what he thought might have been a ring or some odd bobble or ends was actually a small bit of red makeup. From the smooth texture, and the little shimmer that it gave off from the warm light of the festival—it looked like a sort of lip balm or lipstick. Leaving his jacket pockets, his hands reached out as if to touch the small item, his eyes felt glassy and he could feel pain from somewhere deep in his chest. It clenched at his chest, tugging at his lungs and his ribs until he felt his diaphragm heave. He wanted to vomit.

"Isn't a lovely color, mister?" A boy asked, sweeping his auburn colored hair from the sides of his head as if he were trying to look cool. "I'm sure any girlfriend would like such a trinket. That is if you have a girlfriend."

The Shinigami didn't answer. His hands paused mid-air, reaching and yet not touching. What was happening? What was this feeling? It hurt. It tugged and pulled at his consciousness, the way his heart drummed in his chest, as if a stone had replaced the beating organ so that it felt as though the round rock rolled and tumbled through the shelves within him that made him who he was.

"Do you want to buy it sir?" The boy in the stall persisted.

He was so close, all he had to do was inch his fingers just a little bit closer, and the shell would be in his hold. Would it feel better? If he prayed, would the pain go away once he held the seashell?

As he decided to move, slender fingers reached out and took the shell, pulling it away from the jewelry holder to inspect the color more carefully.

Turning his head to look at the person who took the makeup item, the Shinigami prepared to scold them from disrupting him. However...he could not open his mouth. He found his tongue glued to the bottom of his mouth, and his lips sealed shut and dry.

Time stopped. It ached. Because there was nothing as cruel as the lost memories within the time he had once been susceptible to.

"Do you have a problem with me?" The woman asked, her narrow brown eyes glanced over him while her eyelashes fluttered up, brushing against the tips of her raven bangs.

He could not answer as he looked at her, his voice all but gone and lost.

"I don't care who buys it but will someone please?" The boy in the stall uttered, crossing his arms, before to himself quietly uttering. "But both of you will pay the price anyways. So it doesn't matter to me."

"Sir, do you have a problem?" The woman demanded again, her soft pink lips a surprising contrast against her porcelain colored skin.

The Shinigami's voice whispered past his lips without his knowledge, without his control. "That color...It would look beautiful on you."

And the tear

in his eye

rolled down his skin.

a/n: Well, this chapter was very overdue so I'm very sorry about that!

I honestly, am quite traumatized by something that happened to me on FF long ago, and since then I've always been scared to post stuff about outside things from my stories. I'm even scared to post my stories. But here i am, somewhat sane but no less scared. I hope you all enjoyed this update...once I got over my fear a bit, it was enjoyable for me to. And that's what I hope I can do, with this story, bring back the joy that I have in writing Fanfics, as well as having you all, my lovely readers enjoy them as well.

Now, for the important part, I am starting a doujinshi for this fanfic on my deviantart under JafndaegurCAMBRIA. So if any of you would like to check it out, just look it up. It's only two pages in, but i'm having fun drawing the panels and practicing my art. If you have any suggestions for that! feel free to PM me:)

Finally thank you for sticking with me and reading this story...I...cannot possibly express how much that makes me happy. So...thank you to Kosongbird, E-man-dy-S, Shiori Mayonaka no Yume, Sammy, general zargon (really hun, thanks for reading my stuff all these years!), TsukuyoGintoki, SugaKookies33, lovecometrue, blackdragon72, kagome-sono-jamakusai-miko, Guest, and Dana Daidouji for all reviewing on this story...it makes me so happy.

Arigato mina.

I'll see y'all for the next chapter:)