AN: A very heartbreaking loss has made it hard to write the last few months I've been gone. I hope you understand. (PS: this chap is in Kagome's POV again. For necessary reasons.)

Bitter or Sweet?

Disclaimer: not even for going back to school

Chapter 26: the Time of Our Lives

Let's have the time of our lives
Like there no one else around
Just throw your hands up high
Even when they try to take us down
We'll have the time of our lives
'Til the lights burn out
Lets laugh until we cry
Life is only what you make it now
Lets have the time of our lives!

~Miley Cyrus: the Time of Our Lives

KAGOME'S POV

"My life is officially over."

Ayame rolls her emerald green eyes as she shoves five french fries into her mouth in one go. "If only," she mutters, chewing vigorously.

In reply, Sango shoots her a narrowed glare. "I don't want to hear that from you, who has it so freaking easy. All you have to do is find a green dress and it'll 'bring out the color of your eyes.'" She says the last bit in a high-pitched half-hearted jeer. "God, are you even Japanese? Since when do Asians have green eyes? Well, you know what? Screw you, Aya. Screw you and your pretty eyes."

Ayame snorts, taking a monstrous bite out of her hamburger.

I awkwardly pat Sango's back just as she drops her head into her hands despondently. "I have no idea what you're so stressed out about. You'll look good no matter what dress you choose." Which is true; Sango, athletic as she is, has killer legs and not to mention a generous bust. I have no idea where all the insecurity is coming from.

"That's right, Sango!" Miroku interjects cheerily. "As long as it's short and has a low cut, you'll be gorgeous!"

Thwack.

"Ka-go-me," Sango whines, completely ignoring Miroku's groans. "This all happened because I studied for my finals instead of going dress shopping. Now all that's going to be left on the racks are the reject dresses that oppose my skin tone and make me look like a bloated panda!"

Koga, on his third slice of pizza, looks up. "I like pandas."

I sigh. "Well, at least you did spectacular on your exams. At this rate, you'll definitely be accepted into the law school of your choice. And don't you worry- we'll hit the mall right after school today... and won't go home until we find you the perfect dress. Even if that means I have to sacrifice my feet."

"Speaking of which, did either of you find ones you liked?"

I nod. "Ayame called dibs on this really pretty silky green one that's open back and has a slit in the thigh. It's a small fortune, but it looks stunning on her so she's probably going to go with that." I nudge Koga in the ribs. "You should start looking for a green tie then, huh?"

He clears his throat. "Uh, yeah, I guess..." He sneaks a peek at Ayame, who blinks her eyes at him. He flushes slightly and goes back to his pizza. Oh God. What love turns you into... They're so pathetic, it's cute.

Sango brings down her fist on the table. "You know what? I've made my decision; I'm going to wear a pink dress to prom."

Miroku blanches. "Pink?"

"Well, magenta. I mean, it's my signature color, right? Why deny that? So why don't you go shopping with Koga? He can buy his green tie, and you buy your pink tie."

He lets out a long, pitiful whine. "Sango, if you value my manliness even a little bit, you won't do this. Please, please don't strip me of my masculinity."

Sango snorts. "What masculinity?" She turns to me. "What about you, Kags?"

I shake my head as I steal one of Ayame's fries. "I tried on a bunch of things, but none of them were right. They all looked awkward on me. Or maybe I'm just awkward, period. Either way, I'm not too worried. Bank says if worse comes to worst, I could wear a paper bag and still look amazing. Which we all know is a blatant lie, but it helped nonetheless. I'm not that stressed out about it."

They exchange looks, worried I might break down or something. They've been tiptoeing around me whenever Bankotsu's name came up in the conversation ever since I clued them in about our breakup. No matter how many times I've reassured them that I was okay with the whole thing, that it was for the best, none of them seemed to be buying it. I guess I wasn't the powerful of an actress as I thought.

The truth is, it still stung.

I honestly believed that Bank and I were going to last. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he was the first serious boyfriend I'd ever had. Every night, I lie in my bed staring up at the ceiling wondering how things would have turned out if Inuyasha never came back. Then, I'd feel resentment towards Inuyasha for ruining the first real relationship of my life. Immediately afterwards, I would regret it, knowing deep down that it wasn't really his fault.

Still. I needed to hate someone- I had to direct my anger and frustration and sadness somewhere after all.

"Speaking of Bank," Sango laughs nervously, "Where is he?"

"Probably having a pity party in the boy's washroom," Ayame says. "He's writing his number on the urinals right now, with a 'CALL ME' beside it in all caps."

Koga seems slightly taken aback. "Are you suggesting that his fallout with Kagome turned him gay? Is that how little you think of us men?"

She returns his stare with glinting green eyes. "That's exactly what I'm suggesting."

"I'm trying to decide whether I should be offended or just worried for your judgment," a dry voice pipes up from behind.

"Oh, hey there, Bank!" Ayame flashes him a wolfish grin. "Funny you should turn up at this exact moment. We were just partaking in a bit of humor at your expense. I'm sure you don't terribly mind."

He thins his lips, expression darkening with seriousness. "Ayame, I didn't want to tell you this... but Koga and I... we have a thing. Like, a thing thing. So you weren't too far off base."

Ayame turns as pale as parchment. "Oh, God," she murmurs, dropping her head into her hands. "I always knew there was something going on between you two..."

Bank snickers wickedly while simultaneously dropping into the seat next to me. He ruffles my hair- an old habit. And old habits die hard. But the small, insignificant contact leaves me yearning for something more substantial. "Ugh, that makeup chem test was brutal. I got an eighty, tops."

That's when I notice the dark bags under his normally bright eyes. His hair is a mess, too, which doesn't happen often. My fingers itch to redo his sloppy braid. "Haven't been getting much sleep?" I ask softly, careful to leave the emotion out of my tone.

He nods silently, drawing his gaze away from my own. "It's just- my teacher's have been dumping a shitload of work on me these last few days. It's been hell."

I want to reach out and grab his hand. Want to say, I miss you, too. Want to beg him to reconsider breaking my heart- and ultimately breaking his own in the process. It's painful, realizing that I'm unable to humor those little urges anymore. So instead, I offer a tight smile. "I get it; my teachers are doing the same thing. Guess idiotic minds do think alike."

No one says anything for a while.

The tension among us is thick, and none of us can think of anything smart to say. Thus, we spend the rest of the lunch period in utter silence, our vigorous chewing sounding impossibly loud.

"Hey, Inuyasha!"

We all nearly jump out of our skin when Miroku shatters the quiet by calling out to Inuyasha, who was passing by with a notebook open in his hand and a meat bun in his mouth.

He looks up, evidently surprised.

"Come sit with us!" Miroku invites, face open and friendly. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever, buddy. If it's because you're avoiding me, I'd like to let you know right now that I am deeply, deeply wounded. So how about you make up for it by gracing us with your glorious presence?"

Koga nods in concord. "Hurry up and get your ass over here, mutt-face."

A look of pain flitters across his face, but Inuyasha drags his feet over to our table. His gold eyes brush over Bankotsu, then me, and quickly avert. He seats himself on the edge of the bench right at the end, beside Koga who nudges him in the ribs.

I almost feel bad for him; Miroku and Koga are the only ones who welcome him. Sango and Ayame glare daggers at Inuyasha on my behalf- they're still angry at him for- well, . you know. Bank is slightly more civil, but he can't mask his distaste completely. Our relationship ended because of him, after all.

I'm just tired. I've been holding a grudge, even if subconsciously, against Inuyasha for so long yet seeing him looking all uncomfortable and unhappy like this doesn't give me any kind of satisfaction. If anything, my heart feels heavy. Maybe I'd hoped that at least one of us could be content with how things had turned out.

"So, are you going to the great, almighty prom, Yash?"

Inuyasha appears to choke on his bun. He forces a swallow and shakes his head. "No way," he protests weakly. "I'd be embarrassing myself simply by showing up."

Miroku cocks his brows. "What's with that negative attitude? I'm sure there are plenty of girls willing to be your date. Or you could always ask Kikyo...? As friends," he adds quickly. "You could go as friends. It's not such an uncommon thing."

"She deserves to go with someone who can guarantee that he'll show her a good time," he shrugs.

Sango bristles. "Wow, you can be surprisingly considerate, Inuyasha," she bites out acerbically. It's the first time she's addressed him directly in a long time.

Her boyfriend gives her a look. "Sango..." he says warningly.

"What? Don't tell me he doesn't deserve it. We all know that he does. You can't convince me otherwise."

Koga runs a hand through his bangs. "His actions weren't entirely unjustified-"

Ayame narrows her eyes. "You too, Koga?" she demands. "You two are his friends so maybe your biased opinions of him are clouding your judgment but Sango and I have seen the damage he's caused and we're sick of him ruining the peace of our circle!" Her tone, sharp and accusing, prickles my skin.

Stop. My voice stays lodges in my throat. Stop it.

"You think we don't know?" Koga raises his voice. "You think we weren't there? We saw all of it. I fucking remember how Kagome was the first few months after Inuyasha left and I'm not saying that that wasn't real, but you haven't even heard Inuyasha's side of the story-"

"Oh, yes, do enlighten us, Inuyasha!" Sango seethes. "Tell us about how difficult it was for you to screw a different foreigner every single night while Ayame and I had to pretend not to hear Kagome crying herself to sleep for God knows how long. Fuck, do you have no heart? It was only until she started going out with Bankotsu that she got better, and look at how that-"

"Shut up!" I don't recognize my own voice. Shrill, desperate. "This... this thing between me and Inuyasha is for us to figure out and no one else! It's not supposed to create a divide between you guys. Okay? You can't let it." I take a deep breath. "There's no reason for you to hate Inuyasha. I'm sure that he- he probably thought he was doing the right thing. We have to respect that." I pause. "And God, I did not cry that much. You guys are making me out to be a big baby."

Inuyasha stands up, expression hidden under his bangs. "I shouldn't have come over here. I'm sorry this started because of me." He crosses the cafeteria swiftly and exits soundlessly.

Cursing, Miroku gets us and follows suit, Koga not far behind him.

"Boys," Sango spits, the menace woven in only half-hearted. She sounds more exasperated than angry. "I will never understand them."

"Chicks before dicks," Ayame adds.

Bank clears throat which causes me to laugh hollowly.

Chicks before dicks, indeed.

Sango decides on a pink dress.

Correction, magenta.

It's a breathtaking strapless number, the bosom embellished with tons of tiny crystals with a sash tied into a big bow at the waist. The dress portion of it is falls elegantly to her ankles in layers of delicate silk.

It's a wonder she could afford it.

Out of all of our dresses, the one I end up choosing is the most simple: a lengthy, crimson red with a sweetheart neckline and a thin ribbon cinching in the waist. I bought strappy, one-inch heels to wear with it. I couldn't risk falling flat on my face in tall shoes.

"Kagome, pass me my mascara!" Ayame shouts over the music blasting out of my computer speakers.

I toss it to her in a high arch and she catches with one hand.

Meanwhile, Sango is finishing up her smokey eyes and applying a nude lipstick, totally calm and precise.

"Where's the lipgloss?" Aya calls again. "Found it! Wait, what color do you think is best- pink or peach? I can't decide. Ah, screw it, I don't even like makeup. It gets all over my teeth and in my eyeballs." Pause. "Never mind, I'm going with the peach."

"Ow!" I squeal as I burn myself once more with my curling iron. "If I wasn't already done half of my head, I would give up," I mutter, ignoring Ayame's epiphany entirely. Sango seems to be the only one getting along smoothly. She's already pinned her hair up in an updo with curled tendrils framing her face and is nearly done with her makeup- dewy foundation, groomed brows, dark eyes accompanied by thick lashes, pink cheeks, and light-toned lips. Damn you, Sango, damn you.

Ayame, on the other hand, keeps it simple with mascara and lipgloss but straightened her hair so that it falls in shiny locks past her shoulders.

Though my fingers are paying for it, my hair is in loose curls, and I've lined my eyes, applied mascara, and topped it all off with a matt, red lipstick to match my dress.

"Hmm," Sango says as we are standing in front of the mirror, peering at our handiwork. "Don't you think we look a lot like princesses?"

I smile. "If princesses had burned hands."

"And if princesses applied so much lipgloss that they looked as if a dog slobbered all over their faces," Ayame pitches in dryly. "My, don't I look sexual. Koga will barely be able to keep his hands of me." Sarcasm noted.

"Oh, shut up and let me enjoy this moment." Sango's eyes look dangerously glassy. Don't do it, San, I urge mentally. Even if you used waterproof makeup, you really don't want to put it to the test. "We've made it, guys. We're finally at the end."

My brows furrow. "Aren't you supposed be saying that graduation?"

She elbows me. "What did I say?"

"Let you enjoy the moment," I wince.

Sango meets our eyes in the mirror. "That's right," she says, "Because this feeling? It's never going to come again. So we have to treasure it while it lasts; it'll be gone before we know it."

Okay, I'll admit it- boys clean up real nice.

Or maybe it's the tuxedos; they're actually mad sexy. Though Miroku was writhing with discomfort in his girly tie. But Sango was happy, so it all evened out.

The music pounded all around us, balloons and streamers flying everywhere. Bankotsu took my hand and spun me around, over and over, until I was so dizzy that I nearly felt nauseous. But my blood was pumping with adrenaline and the excitement that filled every corner of the banquet hall was overflowing. Eventually, my feet starting hurting so I did away with my heels, as tiny as they were.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ayame and Sango having equally as much fun. From the other side of my peripheral vision, I saw some bump-and-grind action going on, but I chose to overlook that bit.

After six songs of consecutive dancing, I take a break, sitting down at my designated table.

"You thirsty?" Bank shouts over the music. He has to cup his hands around his mouth. "I can get you a drink!"

I nod, sweat trickling into my hairline. "Thanks!" I yell back, throat straining to make myself heard.

As he walks off toward the refreshment booth, my eyes begin to scan the room. The second I realize what- or who- I'm searching for, embarrassment flushes my face and I tear my gaze away. Idiot. He said he wasn't coming, right?

"He's not coming."

Why was it that even before I looked up, I knew who the voice belonged to? Why was it that she didn't even have to scream and I could hear her words with perfect clarity?

"I know," I reply. "You don't have to tell me."

Kikyo sets herself down in the seat next to mine even though its corresponding name card reads, Sango H. "Then stop looking around like some lost puppy. If you want to see him so badly, go to the place where you can actually find him. Moping at such a happy event is not allowed."

My brows arch. "I would think that you would write off prom as overrated. Huh. Guess the world is full of surprises."

She scoffs. "Prom is overrated. And stupid. I'm just here to scare off the bitch who wins Prom Queen."

I smile a small smile. "Could've fooled me." Kikyo could undoubtedly give the Prom Queen a run for her money; she looks absolutely sophisticated and elegant in her ivory chiffon strapless and red stilettos. She also chose to put up her long black hair in a polished chignon. "Are you here alone?"

She sweeps her bangs aside from her face in one, fluid motion. "What do you think?"

I gasp exaggeratedly. "Kikyo riding solo? Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

"Oh, shut up. There was no one good enough for me anyway. I have my standards, you know."

"Of course." I laugh. "It feels weird, talking to you like this. Talking... normally. Makes it seem like we're friends, almost." When she glares at me, I add, "I said almost. Geez. What, do I repulse you or something? Come on, Kikyo, just admit that we have a connection." I bat my eyelashes at her.

She narrows her perfectly made-up eyes. "I will do no such thing," she sniffs. "I surpass you in all aspects of life."

"If by life you mean jeans and bra size, then I agree full-heartedly."

Rolling her eyes dramatically she stands up, heels screeching against the linoleum floor. "You and your little friends think you've got it all figured out. Trust me, you don't. If you would just take a minute to step back and look at the big picture, you'd get it."

I blink up at her. "What?" Hearing anything remotely philosophical from Kikyo gave me the shivers.

She sighs impatiently, like I'm too dumb to understand her words of wisdom. "What I'm trying to say is, things are not always as black-and-white as they seem. Arrogance can be such a bitch, Kagome. You'll see."

Even as she struts away, I'm confused. Was that her actually trying to help me out? I shake my head. Some things will never make sense.

Just then, Bankotsu arrives with my coke. "Here," he says, handing it to me. As I take a huge gulp, he asks, "Did I just see you talking to Kikyo? The Wicked Witch of Shikon High?"

I snort. "Don't let her hear that. But yes, we were engaged in a very deep conversation that I am still trying to decipher. I think she was trying to tell me something important... I'm just too dense to comprehend."

"Well, do you think you can continue your deciphering later? Because I'd really like to ask you for this dance."

I place my hand in his. "How can I say no?" Smiling, he leads me onto the dance floor as the slower, much softer music reverberates all around us. I place my arms around his neck, and his hands are on my waist, as we sway to the song just like every other couple in the room. "Thank you for taking me to prom," I say quietly, laying my head on his shoulder. "I'm having a really great time."

Bank squeezes my waist. "So am I." And then we dance to the rest of the song in silence, just enjoying each other's presence and the magic of the moment.

When the song ends, and the student council president walks onto the stage to announce King and Queen, Bankotsu releases me and leans in. For a startling second, I think he's going to kiss me. But then he whispers into my ear, "Isn't there someplace you ought to be?"

Vague. So freaking vague. But I know exactly what he means and I hate it. "Nope," I respond cheerfully. "I'm liking it here. Seriously the best night of my life."

"Kags."

With that one word, tears threaten to spring into my eyes. When did I become such a cry baby? I used to think I was strong. Tough. Now, I'm not so sure. "Bank, what's up with you? I'm having a great time, really. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here."

He pulls me in with an arm snaked around my waist. "Maybe," he says into my hair. "But right now, there's somewhere that you need to be. Someone you need to see. Tell me I'm wrong."

I bury my face in his chest. "You're wrong." My voice gets muffled by his dress shirt.

With a laugh, he disengages himself and holds me at arm's length. "Go," he says. "If you don't go now, you'll regret it forever. I won't let that happen."

"Why?" This is a challenge and we both know it.

But instead of humoring me, as he's always done, he simply grins as he says, "You know why." And then he gives me a gentle push, sending me in the direction of the door.

I could've just turned back around and punched him in the arm.

But I run.

I pick up my heels that were lying by a wall, along with thirty other girls', and balled up the skirt of my dress in my hands. Then I keep running.

I hadn't really planned it out.

If I had any clue as to where Inuyasha might be, I wouldn't be running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail- no pun intended.

Inuyasha could've been anywhere in this city. Where was I supposed to start looking?

I went to the dojo first. But he wasn't there. Rin, however, was. And when I asked her if she knew of his location, she shook her head. Did you try texting him? she asked.

He went to America, I had responded. He had to have changed his number.

So then I checked his old apartment, the one near the hospital. He wasn't there, either, but that was pretty much a given.

I also tried the train station, various bus stops, the library, and the park (because that's where people usually are in the movies). But no sign of long, silver hair or two twitchy dog ears. I was running out of ideas.

By the time the Tokyo clock tower rang midnight, I was exhausted and disappointed. So I limp over to the nearest bus stop and took the one way home.

Ignoring the flabbergasted looks of the people on the bus at the sight of my tangled hair and frayed dress (plus the fact that I wasn't wearing any shoes), I get off at my stop and ring the doorbell to my own home, figuring Mama or Sota is up, anyway.

But the person who opens the door is not Mama or Sota.

It's Inuyasha.

For a confused moment, I wonder if I was so disoriented that I took the wrong bus and per chance ended up at Inuyasha's new house. Because, come on, fate can be a tease like that. But then I hear my mother chatting with Izayoi in the background and I realize that fate is a freaking tease, but that for once, that's a good thing.

Because if there was one thing I knew, it was that I was getting answers. Tonight.

With reflexes I didn't know I had, I wrap my fingers around his wrist and pull him outside, closing the door behind him.

AN: With the solemnity of my loss and the chaos of going back to school, I haven't been faithful to this story. But where I was going to cut off the chapter as a cliffhanger, I wrote a bit more to make up for my absence. Thank you for your patience!

~Nyony