Hello hello! :)

Okay, so if you've read my profile, you would know that my computer charger had to be replaced, and I couldn't do any writing until then. Without the charger, my computer dies in, like, a minute. So all that's been fixed and I'm back with this chapter!

Fluffyedi: You are too sweet! Thank you so much for your kind, supportive words and for reading this story! It really does mean a lot that so many of you are actually taking the time out of your day to view my little ol' story. And yay for soap operas ^^ They are quite fun, aren't they?

I WANT NACHOS: Greetings friend~ My life is good- immensely busy, but good. Thanks for asking. You?

*ATTENTION* all forms of money involved in this story will be in dollars. I'm not familiar with yen, the Japanese currency, so dollars it is. I apologize for the inconvenience.

Bitter or Sweet?

Disclaimer: Maybe on my birthday…

Chapter 20: SPECIAL- Sweet Serendipities

So, so what?
I'm still a rock star,
I got my rock moves,
And I don't need you!
And guess what,
I'm having more fun,
And now that we're done,
I'm gonna show you tonight:
I'm alright,
I'm just fine,
And you're a tool.

~P!nk: So What

SANGO'S POV

"You know what the best cure for heartache is?"

Kagome looks up from her bag of chips, licking the tip of her index finger where all the sour cream had accumulated. Gross. "What?" she inquires distractedly. "Holy crap, my arms and legs are crazy-sore from the conditioning Coach made us do yesterday at gym. I can't even feel 'em right now-"

I clear my throat. She gives a sheepish glance.

"As I was saying, there are a few things that helps any girl get over a bad relationship. The first being: ice-cream."

"I love ice-cream even when my heart isn't broken," Ayame mutters, shoving a handful of cheese-balls into her mouth. Gross. "I mean, let's be honest, who doesn't love ice-cream?"

Kagome looks thoughtful. "People who are lactose intolerant?" she suggests.

Ayame shrugs. "True. I feel kind of bad for them, don't you? I mean, they can't eat anything with milk. There are seriously missing out. Muffins, cakes, chocolate…"

"It is a bit unfortunate, definitely, but soy-"

I interrupt until this conversation turns into an entire debate regarding lactose intolerants. "I don't mean regular ice-cream you buy at WacDonalds. Buckets and buckets of ice-cream straight out of the tub. That's good stuff right there."

Ayame quirks a brow, not amused. "I don't see how that'll make someone feel better about herself. Eating that much ice-cream will only make you bloat, therefore lowering your self-esteem further. That's not what Kagome needs."

I roll my eyes. "That's the point. You have to binge- treat yourself. Cry yourself to sleep while watching Titanic and all that. Then, you pull yourself together, work out like mad to burn off all the excess weight, and create a whole new you. Now, listen very carefully, Kagome. I'm going to list the things you must do to ensure that you can start fresh. Are you ready?"

Her eyes swivel hesitantly. "Umm… I guess I am…?" she replies, sounding like the words were spoken simply for my sake. Moving on.

"First: inhale a gallon of five different flavored ice-cream as well as gummy worms, sour candy, chocolate, and anything else that you would normally hold back on. This step must be carried out while watching various rented DVDs."

Ayame lets out a snort. "Typical. You just can't get any cornier than that. Would you like a prize?"

Ignoring her, I continue, "Next, you hit the gym. That's where all the fat will slide and roll off your skin-" At this, Kagome coughs, choking on a chip. "- and you'll be back in shape. What comes after that, interestingly enough, is spicy food."

Kagome blinks. "Spicy food?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely. Eat as much spicy food as you can get. Trust me, it helps. Besides, you have a thing for spicy stuff, don't you?"

"I do," she said slowly, "but if I eat it that frequently, my insides-"

"Kagome, I write the love advice column for the school paper. You can take my word for it."

"Ohh, that's right," Ayame snickers, rolling up the sleeves of her baggy sweater. "Dear Ms. Sunny, I think my best friend's gone mental…"

Kagome flicks Ayame on the ear, causing her to bite down on her chops. Wolves and their sensitive ears… A mystery. "Then you cut your hair, pierce your ears, or whatever. Just something to change up your physical appearance somewhat. This part is crucial, so don't leave it out, despite how intimidating it sounds."

"Wow, do I have to go through this every time I have a breakup?" Kagome asks, amazed. "Wouldn't that be slightly tiring? And a little extreme? I didn't even realize this procedure existed. Anyways, what's the final stage? Is it something really weird, like I have to create a fake ID, get into a club, and give somebody a lap dance?"

Ayame perks up. Huh. "Oh-my-gosh, count me in! How sick would that be? It'll be like sealing the deal!"

No surprise there. "Do you want to get Kagome pregnant, Ayame?"

She considers this. "Maybe… Only if the baby's named after me."

I shake my head. The sad thing was that she was probably telling the truth. And this is why I worry. "The last phase is to work yourself so hard you can't help but forget him."

She runs a hand through her raven locks. "You mean I have to exert myself? That's probably not healthy, though."

"Not over-pushing yourself. Simply make yourself so busy that you don't have the time to hurt over him, to cry and mope over the loss of the guy you liked. Because I think it's about damn time that we say goodbye to Inuyasha once and for all."

"T-t-this is so sssaaadddd!" Kagome wails, eyes swimming with tears, fingers gripping Ayame's arm in a death-hold. Guess that martial arts class really works, if Aya's bulging, seriously-protruding eyes count for anything. "Why does Jack hafta dieeee? And that Rose! What an asshat! Like, seriously! How dare she marry someone else and have children after that beautiful love she and Jack had? Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!" she chants, punching a nearby afghan with ardor. Ayame looks at the cushion with great sympathy, commiserating with it.

"Um, Kags, are you on your Time of the Month?" I prod nervously.

She snaps her head to face me and I flinch as she throws me a look that could, very literally, kill. "Excuse me, Sango? And what's that supposed to mean? Can't a girl be angry at a fickle movie character without being interrogated and accused of undergoing mood swings?"

Ayame spares a curious peek at Kagome's face. "Aren't you, though?"

She turns defensive. "And what if I am?"

There are just some things in life that one can't help but fear, and those are: spiders, teachers, and girls on their period. And perverts (in other words, Miroku).

After five minutes of relentless scrutinizing, Kagome brightens up in a split second, expression clearing quicker than a flash of lightning.

"Hey, Sango, can you pass the rocky road?"

"I can't believe I listened to you!" she pants, raven ponytail swishing back and forth, "I put on ten pounds from all that sugar! God, am I out of shape or what?"

Smiling, I press a button on the treadmill making it go faster. "Good. More motivation, the better, I say. Go faster, Kagome, or you're going to fall on your face. And as amusing as that may be, it'll be embarrassing. Not only for you, but me as well, as your trainer. Run, run, go, go! Kagome, Kagome, fight-o!"

She laughs, the sound haggard due to her heavy breathing. Sweat rains off her body like a storm. I almost feel sorry for her.

"Banzai," Ayame adds dryly. "K-a-g-o-me: what does that spell? KAGOME!" Insert rolling of the emerald eyes.

I rigidly swivel my neck to face her, visage lit up cheerily, as if flowers and birds were floating around in the background. "Ayame, your sarcasm is not helpful in the slightest, my dear."

The lovely red-head blanches sickly at my use of the term of 'endearment.' "Kagome, hurry and burn those ten pounds so I can go home!" she cries.

Never said I wasn't twisted. Mwahaha.

Ayame rests her chin in her palm, holding back a laugh. "That's your fourth glass of water, Kags. At this rate, your poor stomach's going to be filled to the brim with H20 instead of substantial food. I bet if you got diarrhea right now, the color would be clear—"

Kagome holds up her hands, eyebrows furrowed. "I appreciate the contribution . . . but I'm eating. In case, you know, you've forgotten." She pause, Ayame's words sinking in. "But you're probably right— have you actually known anyone who'd had clear diarrhea, though? I mean is it even possible to poop out—"

The people surrounding our table backs away, looking disgusted, and rush to the nearest waiters to ask for a seating change.

I sigh exasperatedly. "Way to work your magic, guys. They couldn't have run away more quickly."

Kagome digs her face into her extra-large bowl of the restaurant's hottest ramen. And judging from the crimson tint of her skin, it's really doing its job.

"So, how is it? Any good?" Ayame wants to know, sticking a rod of fried shrimp between her canines.

She nods vigorously, making me wonder if her neck's going to break from the much-too-spirited action. "Uh huh! It's so-super delicious. But it's so spicy! I want to stop eating 'cause it's painful . . . but I can't stop! Too good! Ahh, my tongue's going to commit suicide!" Nevertheless, she shoves a spoonful of noodles into her burning mouth.

"Can I have a taste? If it's as yummy as you make it sound?" Aya reaches for Kagome's lunch with her chopsticks.

Kagome curls her arms around the bowl, baring her teeth. "My ramen!" she hisses.

Ayame buries her head in her hands. "Oh my God, Inuyasha's rubbed off on her . . ." she moans.

Lesson learned: never touch Kagome's ramen.

"Um, so what're we going to do for this step? I don't feel like cutting me hair after that incident with Sota- very short hair does not compliment my baby face- and I'm not sure if I'd like to pierce anything besides my ears."

"You should die your hair red! Like mine," Ayame suggests, smiling.

She squirms. "Er, no thank you. You may manage to pull off that color, but I can't say the same for me. Or many other people I know, in fact. What can I say? You're special."

Ayame looks disappointed. "Not even highlights?"

"Sorry, nope. Any ideas, Sango?"

I study Kagome carefully. "I think it's about time to trim your bangs. Don't you?"

"Not really."

"Well, too bad. Let's go a bit side-swept this time! Right, Aya?"

She squints her cat-like eyes, coming to my right to examine her front hairs. "Yeah, I think Kags could make them look good."

She folds her arms stubbornly. "This has nothing to do with whether or not I could pull it off. I don't trust Ayame with scissors and my hair."

Ayame puts her hands over her heart, trying to look hurt. "Why, darling Kagome, would you say such a thing? I'm sure Sango here will gladly back me up—"

"Of course I wouldn't let Ayame be the one to touch your hair," I say to Kagome consolingly, cutting Ayame off. "What kind of person do you take me for? Ayame plus scissors equals absolute destruction, obviously. We're taking you to a salon."

Kagome nods. "Agreed."

"Hey!" Ayame barks. "You're just jealous. Jealous, I tell you!"

I pat her on the arm like an old lady does to a child having a tantrum. "Yup, uh-huh, sooo jealous."

Kagome plays with her fingers. "Okay, I'll be honest; I'm pretty nervous. Scared, even."

I place a firm hand of her shoulder. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Kagome! You'll be fine. We've gone over this, right? You're not joining the swim team to swim competitively. You're just joining for pure fun. To enjoy yourself. Remember how much fun you had with your dad in the public pool when you were younger? We're trying to get you to recapture that."

"Besides," Ayame interjects, "if you panic somehow and end up coming near to drowning, I'll totally dive in and drag you out."

"Thanks, Ayame. I feel so much better now that we've gotten that fear out of my system."

Ayame inspects her sharp talons, flicking her cuticles. "I try, I try . . ."

I raise my brows. "Too much, in my opinion," I state. "Okay, so we can check 'swimming' off our list. We're hitting Band next."

The red-head freezes, then shudders. "Ugh, marching."

"Why the band . . . ?" Kagome inquires.

"To grace everyone with the beautiful notes of your flute."

Kagome pushes her newly cut bangs away from her face. "Would you take a 'no' for an answer?"

I smile innocently. "What do you think?"

"I think that I need another bowl of ice-cream."

"I second that," Ayame adds. "Argh, marching . . ."

"And they all lived happily ever after," Kagome says, slowly, definitely, as Inuyasha 'gallantly' sweeps me off my feet, twirling me around in the air a couple times for good measure.

"Good! End scene, everybody."

Inuyasha immediately drops me to my feet, as if he couldn't let go of me quickly enough, and I retreat with the same enthusiasm.

Mr. Myoga claps his stubby hands. "Although I am happy to say that we've made a surprisingly pleasant amount of progress these last few weeks, because I want this play to be in the absolute best condition for the spring festival, I'm going to be extra picky today. Inuyasha: you have to seem gentler. Remember, Belle has softened you up and you must portray rawness and compassion to the audience. Sango: do away with the scowl, please. I know you're upset that you can't act in love with your boyfriend, but just be happy that I cut out the kiss scene from the original movie."

"Thank God," Inuyasha and I mutter under our breaths at the same time. "And I'm not dating Miroku!" As of right now, anyway.

The entire cast snickers, and I throw them evil glares. What do they know?

The bell rings, and everybody jumps to flee the stage.

"Wait! Before you all run away, I'd like to have a class meeting. To discuss the finer-print details of the festival."

They turn around, reluctantly, to listen.

"We've finished our props, and everyone has their costumes, so all we need to do is run one last, quick rehearsal where we do the whole story from start to finish, and we're good to go. Make sure you all completely memorize your parts, and we'll meet—" At the bored expressions glued to everyone's faces, he sighs. "Oh, whatever. I'll just pass around the hand-outs with all the information. Make good choices, everybody. And try not to have sex— abstinence is key . . . "

I'd rather not go there.

"Wait, Sango."

I turn around.

"Can you make up with Miroku already? Ever since you dumped him . . . again . . he's been in a crappy mood all day, every day. What happened between me and Kagome—"

"What happened between you and Kagome is none of my business? Then guess what? What happened between me and Miroku is none of your business. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some serious prepping to do before I can pretend to be in love with you." Without another look his way, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and spin around, already making my grand exit. But then stupid Inuyasha has to open his big, fat mouth.

"Try to picture me as Miroku," he says.

I turn to him, baffled. "Excuse me?"

He rolls his eyes. "For the play. I know it's going to be hard for you 'cause you clearly have problems with me, but if you squint your eyes really hard, then maybe— just maybe— you can sort of see me as Miroku for a little while. It'll make the whole façade a bit easier." Seeing me gape as I try to contemplate whether he's joking— he's dead serious— he quickly adds, "Like I said, if you squint really hard." When I don't reply, he mutters something under his breath, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and stalks away.

Only when I'm sure that he's completely out of sight, I burst out laughing. In that moment, a very tiny part of me realizes why Kagome was infatuated with Inuyasha, and that part tones down my hatred for him slightly. Like, by fifteen percent or less.

I'm still a long way from forgiving him but . . it's a start. I guess. Though I can't say the same for Ayame.

God, I just want to get this stupid play over and done with. Belle might be loving, patient, empathetic, and everything else that's charming and ladylike but I'm not. Not anymore.

"Break a leg, Sango," Kagome whispers, giving me two thumbs way up, a broad grin on her face. "You're gonna be awesome! Just wait and see."

Ayame, on the other hand, is doubling over. "Yeah," she gasps. "Good luck . . . B-Belle!" She resumes shrieking— howling— madly, dropping to the floor and pounding her fists on the boards of the outdoor stage that the 'props' people had set up.

I sigh dramatically. "What's wrong with her now, Kagome?" I ask wryly.

Kagome studies her carefully. "I'm not entirely sure . . . caffeine overload, possibly?"

"Just take care of her while I go fall in love and move an audience to tears with my beautiful, American, and totally original love story."

Kagome blinks. "I would love to, but I'm the narrator. Remember?"

I brighten. "Oh, that's right! Ah, well, looks like you'll just have to wither away in agonistic loneliness till we get back, Aya. Have fun being backstage! By yourself! Alone! Did I mention alone? By yourself?"

Ayame shoots me a look. "Bitch."

"Love you, too! Mwah!" I blow her a loud smooch, as she scrambles away. She never did respond well to PDA.

Rolling the sleeves up of my gray-blue sundress, I brace for the faces of all the poor suckers who came to watch 'Shikon High's take on the telltale classic: Beauty and the Beast', as well as the blinding back lights, and step onto the platform, determined to make this work no matter what, for all those who worked their butts off to prepare for this moment, if nothing else.

It passed by much quicker than I expected.

The lines were flowing from my mouth, memorized accurately and spoken passionately, as though I actually was Belle, as though I actually was falling in love with Koga/Inuyasha, as though it was my life I was exposing to the crowd. It all happened so incredibly fast.

Somehow, throughout it all, a vague thought passed my mind, and it was something along the lines of: what is love?

So many movies and books and television series include the element in their storylines, yet in real life, it wasn't as simple as finding yourself in an archaic castle inhabited by an antisocial, spoiled, yet heroic beast— who just so happened to be a filthy rich prince— and finding yourself head-over-heels in love with him. And vice versa. It was simply too good to be true. Sure, I believe in love (to some extent). Sure, I write the love column for the school newspaper. Sure, I have a serious boyfriend (at the moment ex-boyfriend) whom I'm pretty sure I going to be married to one day.

But what about Ayame, who all she wants is a boy who would see her as a best friend and, at the same time, a girl instead of just one of the guys? What about Kagome, who had fallen for the boy next door, only for him to move away and reject her by asking out her sworn enemy? What about Rin, who loved the one person who refused to ever love her back?

I know life isn't fair. But couldn't fate have mercy on three fantastic, extraordinary girls who deserved happy endings? If only everything was as simple as ending in 'happily ever after' then perhaps there'd be no pain or suffering in the world. That's what everyone wants, isn't it?

"Everybody wants happiness and nobody wants pain, but you can't have a rainbow without a little rain," Kagome recites, voice ringing out sweetly as practiced. "And they all lived happily ever after."

On cue, Inuyasha picks me up and spins me in the air, before everyone forms a line at the front of the theater, holds hands, and bows in unison. Confetti pops from the headlights up top, and Kagome lists off each person to the part they were assigned, making sure to pause for applause for all the members. When the claps for Mr. Myoga (who, in Kagome's words, 'dedicated time and commitment to putting the entire thing together marvelously') come to an end, I cup my hands over my mouth, and shout, "Thanks for the narrations, Kagome Higurashi!"

It's not my style. I'm not loud, outspoken, or brash. That's Ayame. But what are friends for? Besides to steal food and clothes from?

Ayame puts her hands together thunderously, and the confused spectators instantly join in. Across the stage, Kagome laughs cheerily, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and I switch my gaze to the person on my left— Inuyasha—who is staring at Kagome with an expression that makes me want to shoot myself. That bastard; that two-timer! He has a girlfriend! What the fuck is he thinking, looking at her like that like some sort of . . . puppy?

Just as I'm mulling over whether or not to shove a fist in his gut, I notice another pair of eyes fixated on Inuyasha. Kikyo's. Uh oh.

"The play was a success!" Mr. Myoga cheers. "As a reward, you all get pizza and soda tomorrow in the gym after last period! Don't skip out! Enjoy the festival, kids, and participate in as many games as you can! Okay, fine, I'll shut up now." The tiny teacher scurries off to an 'open bar' concession stand for the professors.

Someone steps up to me and gives me a hard smack on the back. "Told you you'd be great, Sango!"

I stick my tongue out. "You were just as brilliant, Kagome."

"You were both good. End of story," Ayame intervenes, smiling hugely, fangs and all. "So, what event is next?"

I dig in my quilted tote bag for the pamphlet. "The Charity Girl Auction, whatever that is. It's taking place here. You want to stick around to see what it's about?"

Kagome nods eagerly, looking around. "Sure. After that, can we grab lunch? I'm starving. I hear that class C prepared an amazing udon stand. The school really did a terrific job this year, huh? The decorations and everything else are really beautiful."

Kagome was right; the main gates temporarily painted scarlet red, all the surrounding trees have been showered with streamers and fake flowers, each outdoor convention bright and colorful. Everything smelt delicious, and the students wore various, entertaining costumes that made caffeine-drugged Ayame want to piss her pants.

"Thank you, everyone, who decided to join us for Shikon High's annual Charity Girl Auction!" Koharu sings into a screechy microphone.

My attention jumps to the girl currently on stage. "What the hell is she doing up there?"

"For all those who are not sure what the Girl Auction is, it's a charity event where we bring up ten gorgeous ladies— pulled out of a box at random— and have our male population offer money to take them on one date! So take out your wallets, boys, bid generously, and let's begin!"

Ayame guffaws. "That is the most retarded idea I've ever heard. Auctioning off women? That's repulsive. I mean, say no one wanted to take one of the contestants out on a date? How bad would she feel? Geez. People nowadays . . . "

Kagome bobs her head up and down. "Even if it is for a good cause, this event victimizes ten innocent girls in front of the entire school. It's a horrible idea."

I simply stare at Koharu, at her fake smile and fake boobs and fake heart, and pray that she isn't going to do what I think she's going to do.

"First participator… Please welcome, Kagome Higurashi!"

Beside me, Kagome freezes, eyes wide.

Ayame chokes out a laugh. "Oh, hell, no. Kagome, we're so out of here. Come on. You don't have to do this."

Koharu, having heard Ayame's outburst, speaks up. "But Ayame, isn't that being a tad selfish? This is a cause that will help our school and people in need. If Kagome refuses to partake, she's willingly humiliating herself and showing an immense lack of school pride. That's not what she wants, is it?"

I'm at a loss of what to do. "Kagome?" I ask softly.

"I have to go," she says, quietly but surely. "Koharu's right; this is for the school. It's only morally correct that I contribute. Um . . . here I go . . ."

Before I can grab her, she makes her way to the stage steps and forces herself to stand at the side of the evil bitch-whore. I bet Kikyo put her up to this in a fit of jealous rage! I'm going to help Ayame break her bones when this is over!

Koharu— unfazed – chirps into the mike, "Ready, set, go! Auction away, boys!"

Silence.

More silence.

More fucking silence.

Oh my God… nobody's offering any money.

I glance up at Kagome's face, and she's staring straight at the mass of people, hands shaking at her sides, but expression brave and firm. Ayame and I exchange panicked looks, and I open my mouth. I'm going to auction for her.

I don't care if people dub me as a homo or bisexual for the next two years— I'm not going to allow Kagome to be publically scorned in this way. Or any way. It's not happening, not if I can help it.

But another voice beats me to the words. "Fifty! Fifty dollars!" a male yells breathlessly.

And then everyone in a five mile radius immobilizes.

Why?

Because Inuyasha Takahashi— the guy in the relationship that the whole school knows about— has just spoken up to take another girl on a date.

After a few murmurs, another familiar voice shouts, "Eighty!"

Holy shit. Now Koga's in this?

"A hundred!"

That would be Miroku.

The comprehension dawns, and I can't help but hold some serious respect towards Inuyasha for what he's doing: He's getting his dude posse to help Kagome out, even though it could mean losing his girlfriend and have people trash-talk him for the next, oh, ten years or so. After all, he was practically openly cheating on the school's prized, beloved, precious, angelic Kikyo. What he was doing could only be described as suicide.

"One hundred twenty!" an overly-deep intonation bellows, directly in my right ear.

I crane my neck. "Rin?" I yelp, when I recognize who the adjacent petite body belongs to. "What are you doing?"

She turns to me, smiling. "Hiya, Sango! Didn't see you there! The guys sounded like they were having fun so I didn't want to miss out. I'm a good voice-impersonator, aren't I? You totally fell for it, didn't you? Ha! You looked completely shocked! You did fall for it!"

"No offense, Rin, but what were you thinking, speaking out like that? You're aware what this means?"

She scratches her head. "What do you mean? Kagome's one of my besties. I would love to take her on a date! You know, go watch a movie with her and stuff. Play around in an arcade? Oh my God, we could play Solitaire!"

Huh? "I thought you liked Sesshomaru!" I cry.

A puzzled expression takes over her face, as she struggles to keep up. "I do. I'm straighter than a stick. But just because I like guys doesn't mean I can't take my friend out."

Her logic doesn't make sense to me. "Actually, it sort of does. Are you saying you don't care if people decide to make fun of you, calling you a lesbian behind your back?" I mean, Rin's not even that that close to Kagome. How could she so effortlessly risk her reputation for a girl who merely took her martial arts class? How?

Rin arches her brows. "No. Because I'm not homosexual, and I know it, and the people who matter know it. What anyone else thinks isn't important."

When she says it like that… She's right; who gives a shit what closed-minded freaks think?

"A hundred fifty!" I call, laughing.

Ayame nudges me in the ribs. "Two hundred!" she yaps, holding a hand up in the air and shaking it wildly, red pigtails swishing from the movement.

From the podium, Koharu glares in annoyance. "Sorry to interrupt, but this is a serious auction. For males only. The student committee would appreciate it if you could quit your meddlesome little game now. It's coming off as exceptionally rude and disruptive. Thank you."

"This is Shikon High," Ayame yells in a strong, clear voice, "and we don't discriminate! Race, age, gender, or sexual orientation! Isn't that right?"

Koharu crosses her arms tightly at her chest, tapping her foot. "We all know you're not gay, Ayame. Neither is Sango. You're all just trying to help Kagome!"

"Yeah, damn right we are," I concur. "That's not against the rules is it? Because they didn't mention any rules in the brochure. And as far as I'm concerned, we can sure-as-hell auction for Kagome if we feel like it!"

"Fine!" Koharu sneers, patience snapping. "Sold for two hundred dollars to Ayame Wolfe. Good for you, bidding on your friend. How terribly noble and considerate!"

"Actually," another— this time unrecognizable— voice says, "I just got here and if you don't mind, I would love to take Kagome on a date."

"It's Bankotsu," Ayame says, sounding surprised. "You know, he was in the play with us! He played Gaston. Remember?"

Koharu scoffs, not believing the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

"Two hundred and fifty dollars," Bankotsu tells her boldly.

"Going once," she snaps. "Going twice. Sold." She sounds surly, bitter. As she should be.

Glistening tears are leaking out of Kagome's eyes as she makes her way down the stairs, but she's smiling gleefully. My heart warms at the sight. And our eyes meet briefly. Her smile screams: thank you.

The warming comes to an abrupt stop when I see who's waiting for her at the bottom of the small flight of steps.

Kikyo's mouth forms the words: I need to talk to you.

AN: Hehe, cliffie :D

Ahh, this chapter was strangely very difficult for me to write… I kept getting writer's block, which was frustrating.

I know you guys were expecting a quicker update. I hope the lengthiness of this chapter will make up for my disappearance? *cowers behinds hands*

Regardless, I would love to hear your feedback! And which pairing you want to see have some action (minus Inu/Kag because I've already planned out their scenes).

You guys know how much I appreciate your loyalty. Until next time!

Huggles,

~Nyony

Aw, that was sooo sweet that Ayame and Sango bid for Kagome! I would do the same thing if it was my bestie! And crap, Kikyo wants to talk to Kagome? But Kagome hasn't even done a thing! Gosh, she better not get mad or I will! As always, I love to beta for Nyony and I would hope that all you readers give her the much-deserved reviews!

Oh and I would like to see Sango and Miroku have more time— seems like Miroku really misses her . . .

~Daichi

Thank you, Daichi, for editing this in record time, as requested!