A Time for Changes

Author’s Notes: Been a while, I know, but hey, school is school. We all know that.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews, I appreciate them! Keep them coming, it’s what keeps me writing even if its delayed.

‘ _____ ‘ = inner thoughts
“ Dialogue” = speaking

Description: Kagome's college years are getting complicated and just when things seem impossible she finds haven in a small café and its clerk. (Iny/Kagome)

Chapter Four: It's coming down to nothing more than apathy


The identification process and the events surrounding the funeral remained unspoken things between Kagome-chan and her friends. No one accompanied her to the precinct that day, she firmly told them, as firmly as she could as a sobbing wreck that she didn’t want anyone to be there. It couldn’t be said if she shared any last secrets with her brother; any sobs for forgiveness, or curses for her foolishness, Kagome had all but closed herself off from the outside world.

The weeks surrounding the funeral were spent at Koga’s home, he who immediately without hesitation said he’d pay for Souta’s funeral. Kagome did not protest this humble notion, she was too broke to pay for even the minimal necessities of a funeral, which now cost over a few thousand dollars, money Kagome just didn’t have. She carted herself back and forth, back to Sango’s apartment only to pick up new clothes and a few little things she’s forgotten along the way. It wasn’t definite if she was living with Koga permanently, but for the time, she was all too grateful for him to take care of the funeral expenses and aftermath.

Now, two weeks later, Koga found Kagome at the kitchen counter.

“Good morning, Kagome-chan.” He spoke softly, as if fearing the thunder of his own words would break her frail body. His hands snaked around her as he leaned over her chair, “Have you eaten anything today?”

She shook her head, raven locks barely moving, “Coffee.”

“You know that isn’t good for you, your body needs something substantial,” he mumbled lightly, rubbing her shoulders.

This was the daily routine; Kagome had all but given up food, claiming to have no appetite. But Koga knew the truth, her spirit was broken, there was nothing motivating Kagome to stay alive. What was he to do? He wasn’t her boyfriend or family, he couldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want, but he also wasn’t going to make her leave either. Koga was very happy to have her here, to wake up each morning to see her face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring down at the cup of black liquid.
His eyes shimmered with a sorrow as he kissed the top of her head, “Ain’t anything for you to be sorry for. You do what you want.” He pulled up the stool next to her and turned so he faced her. “Now, what are your plans for today?”

Kagome hadn’t pulled her gaze from the coffee as she replied, her voice even-toned and quiet, “Class, and work. Hojo-sempai said he’d give me a small shift, just to keep up my basic bills for the apartment.”

The news of Souta’s death, being an officer from the local area, had been a minor blip in the media, but still managed to make its way around the town by word of mouth. Kagome had received many cards, fruit baskets, and casseroles, all of which every single time, without doubt, made her cry. Each deliveryman was more pitiful after the next, as if warned in advanced of the unstable girl who resided in Koga’s home.

“I’m glad he gave you some work, it’ll keep you busy, but don’t push yourself,” Koga chimed in weakly, stroking her hair. Hojo, being one of those said people who heard the news, immediately decided she needed the time off to recuperate, but Kagome’s stubbornness to keep working and forget the pain led to his own defeat. “Would you like me to walk you to class?”

Again, she shook her head, “Don’t trouble yourself, I can walk, I promise.”

This answer didn’t really please Koga. He found that in Kagome’s new broken form she was slightly reckless with herself and didn’t take the protection she needed. With a clawed hand he rubbed his temples and rose from the kitchen chair, “Well, I have to head into work. You have my number if you need me, but I’m going to be home a little late tonight. Are you going to be okay?”

“Sure, I’ll have dinner ready for you.” It was the first time in the whole conversation she was looking at him, and actually smiling. “I loved cooking dinner for Souta-kun, he’d come home from school and eat dinner with me. Is there anything specific you want?”

Koga smiled gently and shook his head, “Just cook me his favorite dish.” ‘Hopefully her cooking something that’s familiar will get her to eat too.’ He glanced down at his watch and sighed, “Crap, now I’m gonna be late.” Leaning over he pecked the side of her cheek and then jogged to the door, “I’ll see ya later, Kagome-chan.”

The door clicked shut, casting a shadow on Kagome’s face until it was in complete darkness. Leaning over slightly she let the cup slip from her hands into the sink with a loud “clank” and watched the liquid swirl away down the drain. Her fingers treaded through her lackluster bangs as she jumped down from the stool.

‘Cook. It’s not like Koga-kun ever has anything in this fridge except breakfast stuff…’

After a shower Kagome was back on the streets, wrapped in a black trench coat Koga-kun had purchased for her, chastising her for not having proper winter attire. Her breath was caught on the wind and her boats clicked against the sidewalk, but besides these two physical attributes, she was all but invisible to the hustle and bustle of the city. Her class didn’t start for another hour and was a basic gen-ed (general education) for teaching.

“Kagome-chan?”

She spun around quickly to find herself face to face with Taishou-san. It was the second time, the first being in the hallway, when he wasn’t dressed in work attire. There was no uniform, no logo in sight. Instead he was dressed in a long baggy red coat and once again, a bandana.

“Taishou-san, he-hello,” she stumbled out. She was still humiliated by the incident in the hall; she wished that no one besides her intimate friends would ever see that indecent behavior. Kagome flushed lightly.

He rubbed the back of his head, unsure if he should ask, “how she was doing”. It was then that the woman beside him cleared her throat. “Oh right! Sorry. Kagome-chan, this is Kikyo-chan.”

The two locked eyes; hers were strong, stoic, and crystal clear with confidence, Kagome’s were hollow, broken. “A pleasure to meet you, Kagome-chan. As Inuyasha-kun has said, I’m Kikyo-chan. If you don’t mind me asking, how do you two know each other?” Her eyes slanted slightly, as if she wanted to pierce holes through Kagome’s nearly anorexic body.

“I’m—“
“She’s a local at the café, you know, where I work? I ran into her at a museum too once, she left her sketch pad there so I returned it to her the next time she came in for a cup of coffee, the baka. Nothing special.”

There, the woman Kikyo-chan, who looked so much like Kagome-chan, smiled. Kagome frowned. The two broke their eye connection and each in turn looked to Inuyasha/Taishou. Kagome hadn’t been given the honor of calling him such a personal name. It was then she noticed their interlocked hands.

“I should go,” she started weakly, backing up preparing to turn and run to wherever it was she had planned on going.

“Wait.” His voice had changed since the statement earlier, it was quieter, sadder, “How have you been, really?”

“Oh, has something happened to you recently?” Kikyo-chan questioned. It wasn’t needed, it was far too obvious something had, but still she pried.

“She l---“
“I’m fine Taishou-san, really I am,” she blurted, trying to hide the puckering feeling in her cheeks like she was about to cry. “Been forced to have instant coffee, nothing as good as the café, but I’m surviving. Now if you excuse me,” she bowed quickly. On the rise she said, “I must go, I have a dinner to prepare tonight. Ja-“

‘That jerk, that jerk, that jerk! So first I’m nothing special and then right in front of a damn stranger he wants to ask me how I’m feeling? My fucking brother’s dead! I have no family. I hate you, Taishou-san, I hate you.’

Despite being absolutely furious with Taishou-san, Kagome found it nice to have an emotion other than grief running through her system. The next time she came into that coffee shop she’d give him a piece of her mind. She’d yell and scream and ---

~Ring~Ring~Ring~

Kagome’s mental tirade ended quickly with the sound of her phone. “Hello?”

“Long time no talk, Stranger,” Sango’s voice teased her on the other line.

“Ah, Sango! What are you doing up this early, its before noon?”

“Ha ha very funny. Look, I’m ditching classes today, and I think you should too. I called Hojo-sama; he thinks you’re “grieving” today. Come play with me, neh? Please Kagome?”

“I promised Koga-kun I’d make him dinner tonight…”

“Then why don’t I help you? I haven’t talked to you like a friend in forever, it’s been too touchy, but I think Miroku’s right, the best way to move on is to still do the things you used to do.”

That was all it took and under fifteen minutes Kagome and Sango were in the local supermarket. It was a decent sized store, the walls lined with color to draw in the eyes. Sango was leaning over the shopping cart, already packed full with food, as Kagome stood off to the side, trying to pick between two different heads of lettuce.

“Come on, Kagome-chan, its just lettuce,” Sango-chan wined, hitting her head against the shopping cards handlebar. Her hair was tied up in a bun, which was unusual for the ponytail-sporting girl.

Kagome sighed and turned to her, eyes shimmering with glee, “Come on, you never want to bite into a bad piece of lettuce, it can ruin an entire salad in seconds.”

Sango hit her head again for emphasis, “I really doubt that Koga-san is going to care about one piece of lettuce, he’s just excited you’re cooking for him. It’s his dream come true.”

Kagome flushed instantly, “That’s not true, Sango-chan! He’s probably just grateful we aren’t eating take-out, the guy never stocks his fridge with any real food.” Kagome tried to keep her eyes on the cucumbers, suddenly finding produce interesting. She also just wanted to avoid the smirk that was crawling on Sango-chan’s face.

“Come on now, Kagome-chan, you know how he feels about you.”

“We’ve been friends for years, that’s all we are.”

“He paid for the funeral, he let you stay with him, and he’s been taking care of you. Do you know how many times he’s called Miroku-kun or me asking something about you; what your favorite food is, if you hate the cold, stuff like that? He wants to protect you.” Sango left the cart and put her hand on Kagome’s shoulder, her voice lower, “You don’t have to be afraid to feel it just because Souta-kun is gone.”

Kagome felt her eyes bubble up with tears. The lettuce, the supermarket, all of it became unimportant as she grasped Sango’s forearms to support her. Her head rested against Sango’s chest as the sniffles and tiny sobs started. “Sango-chan, I don’t want to feel, not when it hurts this bad.”

“Kagome-chan…” Sango hummed lightly, stroking the girl’s raven locks. “His death hurts you, but letting Koga-kun love you won’t make you hurt more. Ne, Miroku-kun helps take the pain away that I feel, someone who always supports me.” Kagome sniffled lightly as Sango-chan gave her a tight hug, “I’m not saying to fall into his arms, but, ne, Kagome-chan, don’t hide your heart away.”

“Ne, Sango-chan, didn’t I come to this city swearing I wouldn’t find love?” Kagome-chan countered lightly, chuckling.

Sango smiled down at her, “Well, I think I’ll forgive you for breaking this vow.” Kagome had finally regained her composure and straightened up, Sango gave her a good pat on the shoulders. “Now, forget the damn lettuce and lets get your wolf prince some meat, I’m sure he’ll eat more of it than you guess.”

Across town Taishou-san threw open the door to his apartment, “Yo!”

“Ah, Inuyasha-san, you’re home early,” Miroku called from the couch, immediately hopping off of it to greet his friend. “No work?”

“Nah, I took a few days off. With Kikyo home and stuff, I figure I should…”

“Inuyasha-san, what are you intentions with Kikyo-chan?” Miroku asked calmly, handing his friend a cold beer before sitting down on the couch. “She left you without a trace, are you sure you’re…”

“I don’t know, damnit! But she’s been hanging around the café everyday and waiting for me wherever I go. It’s like…”

“The roles have reversed haven’t they?” Miroku chuckled from the couch, “It was you who always lurked about waiting to see how she was. Now she’s doing it to you.” Miroku stretched and sighed, “Good luck, is all I say.”

Inuyasha plopped down beside Miroku and took a long sip of his beer while he pulled off his bandana with his free hand. He sighed, feeling a lovely toxin enter his system, “Say, have you talked to her, since that night?”

“Hm? Kagome-chan?” Miroku asked curiously, flicking the channels on the television. “I don’t often, nor Sango-chan. She’s been very isolated lately, which we both understand is part of her grieving process. Why?”

“Kikyo and I ran into her today in town and ---“

“Kagome pay attention to the water!” Sango screeched while pulling garlic bread out of the oven.

Kagome was already at the stove with potholders ready, moving the pot to a cool stovetop and turning off the other. She let out an exasperated sigh, “Ah gomen Sango-chan, I should never taken on this challenge.”

“Don’t say that, you just put the flame too high,” Sango replied, her voice sounding equally exhausted, wiping away the sweat mark on her forehead. “Why don’t you work on the salad?”

“Okay, a salad shouldn’t be too difficult, I hope,” Kagome mumbled under her breath. From the corner of her eye she watched Sango slide the hard spaghetti noodles into the pot and stir them skillfully. It seemed like Sango always had things under control. Kagome cut tomatoes for a little while, dicing them into small pieces, and over time the salad grew into something quite redeemable.

“There you go Kagome, I knew you weren’t hopeless.” Sango chuckled from her station as she strained the spaghetti into the sink. “Now all we need to do is cook those steaks, but I’ll do it, I know how nervous you are. Why don’t you set the table?”

Kagome wandered over to the table and started to fold the napkins into tiny triangles. ‘I wonder if this is what I date would be like, making dinner for my boyfriend and stuff? I guess if I as I’d be in a gown with my hair up, all flashy. Poor Koga-kun, he only gets this ratty old Kagome.’ Her fingers worked diligently as she put down the forks, knives, and spoons, all in their proper locations. Kagome was little used to this, she used to set the table for her and Souta all the day…

‘No, I won’t do this, don’t start crying about Souta-kun again. Everything reminds you of him…he’d want you to be stronger!’ Kagome mentally scolded herself and continued to concentrate on her work.

A half an hour later the food was simmering and done; spaghetti, garden salad, t-bone steaks cooked medium-rare (Koga’s favorite way), a fresh loaf of bread, and chocolate pudding for dessert.

“Phew, that was tough work,” Sango-chan sighed, sitting down at one of the counter seats as Kagome continued to clean up the mess they’d make. “Aw, I’ll help you clean up Kagome-chan.”

Kagome-chan smiled and shook her head, “No, it’s okay, you did a lot of the cooking. It’s the least I can do for you.” She scooped up some eggshells and threw them into the trash. “So how are you and Miroku-kun doing, I mean…with him leaving.”

It was another special moment where Sango’s demeanor changed; Sango-chan was very understanding of the situation Miroku was in, she overanalyzed it down to a process, which let the emotions hide away, but when Kagome-chan asked her for the truth, the walls fell. Her eyes picked up the sunset through the windows, glowing like a soft fire, with sadness pouring over the flickering beams of light.

Sango sighed, “It’s harder with each day it comes; a few months away seemed like forever, now it’s closer, real, I suppose. I know he’s a hentai and a loose perv, but I also know that what we have is strong.” Sango looked down at her hands, folded together on her lap, “ I’m just worried that while he’s gone and I get left behind, as I learn my own independence, I won’t need him anymore. Do you know what I mean?”

“Sometimes I understand what you’re saying, I’ve been by myself for a very long time. But Sango-chan, Miroku-kun can make you happy even when you already feel happy. He makes your eyes light up with a new intensity better than the sun,” Kagome smiled softly and sat down at the head of the dining room table. “Trust me, you two will be fine.”

A smile spread across Sango’s face and she nodded, “Thank you, Kagome, that means a lot. Just remember yourself saying that the days I get all depressed and need to eat pints of ice cream with you and watch bad movies.”

That response brought laughter to the room, “No problem, Sango-chan.”

Sango left soon after, announcing to Kagome she had her own dinner to make for a certain boyfriend. Kagome relocated to a den chair, the one that faced the buildings, watching the sun disappear behind the buildings, casting her face into darkness. With a sketchpad in hand she started to pass the time…
“Wait, Inuyasha, did you really say that to her?”

“Well yeah, I didn’t want Kikyo to get the wrong idea about Kagome-chan…” Miroku slapped a hand to his own forehead and then hit Inuyasha’s. “Ow! What the hell was that for?” Inuyasha-san rubbed his head slowly, trying to remove the red handprint on it.

“Baka, are you that inconsiderate? Who does she have left in this world other than her friends and you go and tell your girlfriend she’s nothing special?” Miroku-kun leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Kami-sama, you’re so dense.”

The ears on top of the hanyou’s head flattened as the thought about what he said. ‘She’s a local at the café, you know, where I work? I ran into her at a museum too once, she left her sketch pad there so I returned it to her the next time she came in for a cup of coffee, the baka. Nothing special’

“I just…didn’t want Kikyo mad at me.”

“Mad at you? She’s the one who left you with the broken heart without a good reason,” Miroku scowled, leaning back staring at the ceiling. “You shouldn’t have asked how she was either in front of Kikyo-chan, that leads to an obvious need for an explanation and now the woman is going to hound you about it. Baka, you make her life so hard.”

It was Inuyasha’s turn to sigh and stare at the ceiling. “She never comes into the coffee shop anymore, even when I’m working. All I’ve wanted to do is apologize to her. I can’t…”


“You can’t shake the image, can you?”

“Image?”

“That day, watching her there, on the floor, crying,” Miroku whispered, as if it was such a taboo thing to say. “She’ll never forget it either, she hates herself for it.”

”Hates herself?”

“Weakness my friend, the fear of weakness,” Miroku explained, waving a finger. “In front of me, it’d be okay, but you, a nearly stranger, was a no-no.”

“Hey I’m not a stranger, we’re friends!”

“So says the guy who called her ‘Nothing Special’. Trust me, pal, if you plan on being her friend, you better think more clearly. Kikyo can roll with your stupid punches, but I think its only because her heart is made of ice.” He ignored the “Hey!” protest from Inuyasha, “Kagome is soft, and now she’s broken. Don’t think your ignorance will be overlooked, you’ll only hurt her more.”

The door handle jiggled lightly as the door creaked open, “I’m home, Kagome-chan.” Although his voice was prominently soft, it still seemed like a whisper against the silence in the room, he found it uncomfortable. “Kagome?” he called out again, this weaker than the latter.

He closed the door behind him and took his time removing his shoes, coat, tie, and white work shirt. His hair was pulled from his gelled ponytail as he let out a sigh of relief. Much to his dismay, coming home “late” turned out to be very late, it was eight minutes past eleven. His clawed feet made a tiny clicking noise against the floor as he wandered into his bedroom. Koga changed quickly, throwing on a pair of black sweatpants and decided to go against wearing a shirt.

His stomach got the better of him and he wandered into the dining room. There, over almost completely melted candles, sat his dinner, waiting for him. Surely it was cold by now, but Koga couldn’t ignore the pull on his heartstrings he felt. Everything looked like a dream, that dream every guy has of coming home to a good meal made by the woman who loved him. Suddenly not hungry, he ran to find Kagome.

She wasn’t in her room, but his nose finally managed to lead her to him. Kagome was in the chair that overlooked the now glowing city, sketchbook on the side table next to her and an empty cup of tea. She was sleeping peacefully, head knocked to the side. Her body language was relaxed, but he couldn’t help but notice her face. Her face was still tight, tense, like she was in pain, tearstains on her face, it made Koga frown. He leaned in a wiped the tears away gently while taking in a deep breathe, absorbing her scent.

He decided to let her sleep a while more, despite her still wearing an apron over her jeans and neon-pink tee. Easing himself onto the armrest he picked up the sketchbook, still open to a page. It was done with charcoal, her favorite kind of art, and Koga found, through peeks at her art, her most touching work. This piece featured, to his surprise, Kagome. It was an aerial shot of Kagome standing on what looked like cracked ice. Behind her was the shadow of Souta, whose picture is now a frequent in Koga’s home. In front of her stood Koga. Both boys had an arm stretched out toward Kagome. The Kagome in the picture had tears on her face but stood unsure. It was a very simple sketch, not a lot of detail, but spoke a lot of what was possibly on Kagome’s mind.

Koga had to wonder what he represented in the sketch; Souta was clearly someone Kagome loved, and someone dead and symbolically, the past. Was Koga the future? His heart started to swell with joy but his Beast quickly countered that it wasn’t a definite thing. Maybe Kagome saw Koga as change and leaving the past, but not as a romantic figure. Sighing to himself he didn’t notice Kagome stirring.

Kagome’s dreams were a fuzz blur, for once Kagome couldn’t remember what she had dreamt of, which was a relief. She wiped her eyes slowly, finding, without much surprise, more tears. Immediately she sensed someone beside her, and with her sleepy-seed crusted eyes she saw Koga sitting on the armrest, staring at her book.

She reached out tentatively and tugged his sleeve, “Koga-kun?”

Koga was pulled from his deep thoughts, practically jumping off the chair. He turned to her and smiled, “Did I wake you?” He found his voice was still a whisper, even though Kagome was awake.

“No, you didn’t. I’m sorry I fell asleep waiting for you,” Kagome replied, a hint of embarrassment on her face despite the permanent sorrow in her eyes. She reached out and touched a strand of his hair, “I almost never see it down…”

“Take it out after work, relaxing,” Koga-kun explained as she slid over on the chair to make room for him. He slipped down beside her but decided it was too squished and settled on putting her down on his lap. “The dinner looks great.”

“You haven’t eaten it yet, looks can be deceiving,” Kagome-chan mumbled, all too unsure of the salad she had contributed. “Sango-chan made most of it, I’m not very good at cooking it turns out. I’m a little out of practice.”

Koga chuckled, “I’m sure it’s fine, Kagome-chan. Anything you make is special to me.” He caught himself purring as she treaded her hands through his hair, for whatever reason she found his hair fascinating. Her touch warmed him in a good way, put him in a happy bliss. “Hey you, you’ll make me fall asleep this way,” he mumbled with a pleasant purr.

Her hands left his hair, he immediately regretted speaking. “I don’t want you to go to bed not eating dinner, that’s not good for you.” She started to raise off his lap but he held her down. “Koga-kun?”

“Just stay here a while more, please?” his voice was soft. He wasn’t asking out of lust, his Beast agreed, she made him feel good, just good. That warm fuzzy feeling people talk about. “I love feeling your warmth,” he mumbled.

Tentatively her fingers reached out for his ear and stroked it, which led to Koga-kun purring again. She giggled, “Sensitive?”

“Just a little, I admit. Soft touch, like mom used to,” he whispered back. All this time he’d been very still, but now he found he was able to move. His hand reached up and cuffed the side of her face and smiled. “Your day okay?”

Kagome managed a meek nod and smiled, “Sango-chan let me play hooky, we cooked for you all day. It was nice.”

“Eat anything?” he whispered, seeing if she’d done her body some good.

“Actually, I did. Some of the bread and the salad, hope you don’t mind,” Kagome mumbled with a small pout.

Her hands were back in his hair again but he didn’t say anything this time. Her legs were folded beneath her, her face to his, but she a bit taller from the way they were sitting. “I’m glad. Sorry that I’m later than the late I expected, if you get what I mean.”

She smiled, “It’s okay, I understand you work hard. I mean I sit at home all day and ---“

“Kagome…”

She found her words cut off by him, her name echoed through the newly discovered silence. It was very late now, the two in the complete darkness provided by night. Her hands still lost in his midnight color hair, his left hand now matching his right, cuffing her face. Koga sat up slowly so the two were on an equal level, reading her eyes. Kagome stared too, confused, afraid, but still calm; it was one of those moments you knew something was going to happen, something big. He seemed reluctant to say something, so she leaned in incase he wanted to whisper.

Before she could relax he pressed his lips to her, he’d done the one thing he’d wanted to do for years, Koga finally kissed her. Koga kissed her in the darkness of the night, in the clouds of darkness that surrounded Kagome’s life, and prayed, she’d allow herself to feel, like Sango had said. He hoped.

Author’s Notes: It's coming down to nothing more than apathy = from the song Over My Head (Cablecar) by The Fray off their first album How to Save A Life