InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Sachi ❯ At The Cafe ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: Inu, Kagome, et al. do not belong to me, but to the wonderful Rumiko Takahashi. We all bow in awe of her mastery. Thank you for your time. ^^

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Chapter 7

Damn her. Damn her, damn her, damn her!

Fierce scowl in place, InuYasha dropped himself into the first empty chair at the first empty table he found. The bags were kicked under the table, and a terse demand for coffee snapped to a nearby waiter. Then he turned the scowl towards the shop in the middle of the opposite street and proceeded to glower.

Damn bitch. First the dressing room. Now this. What the hell was she trying to do to him? You didn’t just spring shit like that on a guy without proper warning. Just what the hell was he supposed to do with all the images now running around in his head?

It had been going so well, too. After the decision had been made this morning to come into town, he’d been a little worried about sticking so close to her for so long. But they’d had a steady stream of guests since the snow had started, making it impossible to bring either the old woman or the kitsune along. That had left him with the choice of letting her go with Miroku as her only escort in town, or going along himself.

Some choice. His fingers began a steady, restive strum along the tabletop.

I hate coming into town.

But taking her shopping hadn’t been nearly as bad as he’d expected it to be. Somehow, in the past few days their relationship--such as it was--had shifted a bit, had eased into something more comfortable and relaxed. He hadn’t really noticed it until this morning, but…. Running into each other around the Sachi, talking together (without nervousness on her part or hostility on his), and working together, had led to a sort of truce between them. At least, in his mind it was a truce--a little more composure from her, a little less agitation from him, and they’d managed to be useful around each other.

The change had been subtle, but effective; although, he didn’t think either of them had realized how much of a difference it was until they’d been forced to spend a significant amount of time together. He snorted quietly, thinking back over the morning. He’d give her one thing--she wasn’t boring. She’d even learned not to take too much of his shit.

Which was probably why he found pricking at her temper so gratifying. He could almost call it…fun. If he had to be here anyway, he admitted grudgingly, he didn’t mind so much being with her.

But he hadn’t been expecting her to jump out at him partially clothed. The pristine white of the bra cupping her breasts was now burned into his mind, probably for all time. Something about the innocence of the whole incident--right down to her cherry-faced reaction--had gotten to him, stirring up a rather primal part of him. Then she’d shocked the hell out of him with that damn lingerie shop, and his brain had rebelled on him, kicking up a contrastingly explicit, unwelcome series of thoughts that had left him momentarily frozen with…something.

Something he’d rather not name.

Twice today, he’d had to tamp down on his thoughts, to force his mind into a different direction--any direction--than the one it was heading in. Twice today, he’d been less than successful. And now…. Now he had this faint, smoldering tension churning in the pit of his stomach. He was doing his desperate best to ignore it--again, without complete success.

Fuck!

His scowl turned into a momentary wince at his unwise choice in expletives and he growled aloud. The waiter--a kid who couldn’t have been more than seventeen--was just returning with the coffee pot, and jumped at the unexpected sound. Coffee sloshed, spilling over onto the table before he could even begin to pour. That, of course, resulted in even further irritation at the ensuing frantic apologies, bowing, and attempting to wipe up the mess.

InuYasha growled again, waving a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Just get the fuck away from me--and leave that while you’re at it.” He pointed at the pot.

The kid’s eyes widened. “The whole thing? But I’m not supposed to….”

The hanyou looked at him, giving him a direct, hard stare with his unusual golden eyes. “You got others right? I want the whole thing.”

The waiter gulped, then bowed again. “Y-yes, sir.”

The kid practically tripped over himself to get away from him. Vaguely disgusted, he grabbed a couple napkins to sop up the majority of the smoking liquid. A soft, resigned chuckle from behind him caused him to stiffen and grimace.

“Well. After that, I hope you plan on leaving a good tip.” The glib, familiar voice rose to call out after the waiter. “We’d also like some menus over here at your first opportunity, please.”

The kid turned and waved an acknowledgment--darting a swift, nervous glance at the hanyou--before he disappeared into the café. InuYasha gave an impatient grunt as he sat back in his chair and narrowed his gaze on Miroku.

The manager strolled over to stand next to the table, hands shoved casually in his jacket pockets as he perused the mess, his expression indulgent and his manner annoyingly laid-back. “Really, InuYasha, do you think it wise to take your bad mood out on the person who handles our food?”

He snorted. “It’s about time you showed up. How’s Koharu--and you had better have made it to the damn store before you went to see her.”

A tolerant smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Oh, she’s fine--quite fit, actually. And yes, I got your tools for you. They’re already in the truck.” He eyed the bags underneath the table, then studied his friend above them, somewhat cautious as he tried to discern what had caused the scowl. “I see you’ve been busy.” He glanced around the area, then back to the hanyou. “Where’s Kagome?”

His gaze went back across the street. “She’s still shopping.”

Miroku’s lifted an inquiring brow. “Alone?” When InuYasha’s disgruntled expression merely darkened, he blinked and followed his line of sight. It only took him a few seconds to figure out which shop was on the receiving end of the glare. “Ah. I see.” He tilted his head, the dark violet tint of his eyes glinting with rare seriousness. “Are you sure that’s okay?”

The question distracted him from his thoughts, and he broke away from the store to stare at Miroku. Then he frowned. “It should be. The store’s close enough to keep an eye on from here. I’ll be able to tell if there’s any trouble.” He hesitated, then added quietly, “Besides, none of the people we’ve run into today have recognized her. Not even the slightest bit.”

Miroku sighed, then pulled out a seat and plopped down with his annoying, loose-limbered movements. “It’s still the same with the hotels--not that we expected anything different from the last time. I even had Koharu ask around for me, but none of the people either of us spoke with remember a girl of Kagome’s description. Of course, it would help if we could take her along, but….”

“But we still don’t know who tried to kill her, so we can’t bring attention to her,” InuYasha agreed, frustration making his movements rough as he poured himself some coffee, adding a liberal amount of cream and sugar. “It doesn’t make any sense. She had to come through Sounkyo before she got anywhere near the Sachi. She couldn’t have just dropped down into the middle of the Daisetsuzan.”

Miroku allowed a faint frown across his face. “Well, just because we can’t find evidence of her doesn’t mean she wasn’t here. It just means we can’t find evidence.”

“And that’s strange too, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is--but then again, the whole situation is strange, and has been from the beginning.”

The hanyou’s expression was grim. “And that leaves us right back where we started.”

Silence fell as both men considered their own thoughts, staring blankly--InuYasha at the shop across the street once more, and Miroku at the table. Then Miroku shook himself and sat up to address his employer. “Speaking of strange, you look a little bit of it yourself with that cap. You could probably have gone without it, you know.”

InuYasha started, shooting him a surprised look. His ears twitched, producing a telltale movement, but he just scoffed, the set of his shoulders easing just a bit as they fell into the familiar argument. “People don’t think too hard about what they don’t see. It’s better not to remind them what I am.”

“You think so?” Miroku scratched thoughtfully at his chin. “I don’t know about that. Hanyou aren’t exactly rare these days. No reason anyone here would make any kind of connection--especially after so long.”

“Hanyou that look exactly like me? We’re all pretty distinctive, you know.” He rolled his eyes. “Besides, it’s what everyone around here is used to seeing from me--and it’s better if none of us attract any more attention than necessary. That was your idea, remember?”

Miroku pondered that while he perused the offerings on the table. “Well, it’s not as if recognition has ever been a real problem. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“You worry about everything.”

“Not at all.” The Sachi’s manager replied cheerfully, pouring himself a portion from the heated pot on the table. “I take everything into account, and worry only about what is absolutely necessary for my personal well-being.”

“Keh.” That wasn’t even worth responding to, so he didn’t bother, just took a cautious sip of over-sweetened coffee.

After a few minutes of amiable quiet, he shifted in his seat, restless again, and found his gaze wandering--yet again--to the shop across the street. A few cars passed by, and pedestrians wandered the sidewalks on both sides, but the entrance had yet to relinquish any of its customers. It had already been over a half an hour since he left her on her own.

Miroku cast him a sidelong glance over his coffee cup. “I wonder where those menus are? You think he forgot--or is simply too scared to come back?”

He grunted, but didn’t reply. She sure as hell was taking her sweet time, wasn’t she? He didn’t even notice the return of his scowl as his fingers started their impatient strumming again. If she didn’t hurry up, he was going to have to go get her. The scowl deepened.

Hah! Forget it!

She could stay in there all day if she wanted. Like hell was he going anywhere near her and anything even remotely silky. Or lacy. Or white. His jaw clenched, and his teeth snapped together in his mouth with an audible click.

Miroku raised an eyebrow. His eyes drifted from the hand on the table, to the narrowed eyes and tense features, over to the shop and back again. He “hmm’d”, then carefully set his cup back on the table. “So…. Do you suppose she prefers bikinis, thongs, or those adorable little boy shorts that are all the trend right now?”

That got his attention. He gulped and choked at the same time. “How would I--What the fuck makes that any of your business? What the fuck makes you think I even care?”

A nonchalant shrug, and the brushed suede of the manager’s jacket whispered softly as he sat back in his chair. “You were just staring so intently, I thought you might want to speculate.”

InuYasha felt his eyes widen, then narrow in warning. “If you think I’m going to indulge your perverted little fantasies--”

“My fantasies? And here I thought we were talking about yours.”

An image of soft green wool framing gently swelling breasts pushed its way to the front of his mind. He looked away, cursing silently. “It’s not….” His mouth tightened. “You’re wrong. It’s just been a long day, and I want to get out of here.”

“Oh really?” Miroku’s black brows lifted. “If it doesn’t bother you, and you’re so eager to leave, why don’t you just go over there and hurry her up? It’s probably best to have one of us with her anyway--just in case.”

The suggestion caused the back of his teeth to grind. When he found his voice, his tone was clipped. “She’s fine. She’ll be out when she’s done. She doesn’t need me walking in on her.”

Miroku went still, blinking several times as he considered his friend’s profile. Slowly, his eyes widened and a delighted, barely-there smile crept across his face. “I wasn’t exactly suggesting you literally walk in on her.” InuYasha winced, and Miroku shook his head. “So that’s what’s got you in such a bad mood, huh? I wouldn’t have thought that seeing a little skin would throw you so badly.” His head tilted, seeming to deliberate for a moment. “Unless, of course, it was really nice skin. Then I can see why you would be so on edge--especially considering how long it’s been since you--”

He shoved his chair backwards, only just barely managing to dodge the swipe the hanyou made for the front of his jacket. His grin only grew as InuYasha’s gloved hand slammed down onto the table instead, rattling plates and silverware.

Aggravation sparked the golden depths of his glare. “Shut up, you bastard! And don’t even bother to wonder about her skin because you’re not getting anywhere near her!”

Violet eyes gleamed. “Did I hit a nerve, InuYasha?”

He surged to his feet, his hand fisting where it rested on the table. “I’m not in the mood to play one of your fucking games, Miroku!”

“She’s getting to you. Admit it.”

“Like hell she is. Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”

His friend sat forward, unwisely putting himself in easy reach. His voice dropped low enough to ensure that only the hanyou would hear. “It’s been five years, InuYasha. Don’t you think it’s about time you rejoin those of us who actually live life?”

His scowl was defensive. “Just what the hell do you think I’ve been doing?”

Miroku’s gaze hardened and he leaned even closer.

“Umm….? I don’t mean to interrupt, but….”

They both jumped. Identically wide eyes turned to find the other member of their outing standing a few feet away, a single, discreetly black plastic bag hanging from a string at her elbow. She stared back at them with equally wide eyes as they huddled close over the table.

Shocked, InuYasha stepped back, his legs knocking against his chair. “How did you….” His eyes went back across the street.

She shrugged. “I came over a few minutes ago, but you two seemed to be in a serious conversation and you didn’t notice me. I wasn’t sure if….” She trailed off as his scowl returned and he grunted out one of his trademark ‘keh’s.

Miroku blinked, then quickly schooled his features to smile a welcome. “Kagome. You’re just in time for lunch. Come sit down.”

She blinked at him, then at InuYasha, who immediately sat back down, his expression blanking into indifference. Giving a slight roll of her eyes, she smiled back at Miroku and took the seat opposite him, on the other side of their mutual employer.

Miroku ignored their sullen hanyou in favor of questioning Kagome as she sat. “I hope the morning has been pleasant for you.” He indicated the bags still underneath the table. “It seems it was productive, if nothing else.”

For lack of anything better to do, she set her bag with the rest of the messy pile underneath the table. “Almost too productive.” A faint blush touched her cheeks. “I really don’t think I’ll need anything else for a long time after this.”

Miroku’s smile was pleased. “That’s a good thing. You’ll find we don’t come into Sounkyo as much as you would think, so having what we need at the Sachi is important. Are you hungry?”

She nodded, and Miroku glanced around at the other tables, most of which were empty of patrons. “Well, we haven’t got our menus yet. I think maybe our waiter,” he sent a wry glance at InuYasha, “forgot we were out here. Most of the other customers are inside.”

InuYasha snorted, then stood--quickly. “Well then, I’ll just have to remind him, won’t I?”

Looking half-concerned, half-amused, Miroku immediately shot to his feet, somehow managing to beat InuYasha in his bid to get away from the table. “Ah…. Why don’t we let me remind him, hmm? You keep Kagome company.” He started away from the table before InuYasha could move, ignoring the suspicious glare sent his way. A faint, almost mocking smile curved his mouth. “After all, if you do it, we might not see our food at all today.” His right hand lifted in a careless wave. “I’ll be right back.”

They watched him weave his way around tables until he disappeared into the café. With an intolerant sigh, InuYasha sat down once again and stared at Kagome. She stared back curiously, but was too polite to comment.

Not quite comfortable with her attention on him, he nodded to the pot in the middle of the table and muttered out the first inane comment that came into his head. “There’s coffee, if you want some.”

“I see.” Her voice reflected the neutrality of his. She eyed the coffee pot, then frowned at the small, soggy mess of napkins that had been pushed off to the side and simply left on the table. She looked askance at him, but he just shrugged. Rolling her eyes, she stood, grabbed a few more napkins from the holder on the table; gathering up the entire mess, she glanced around for the nearest trashcan, and carried it over.

He watched her with a wary gaze.

She was fine; nothing had happened to her while she was on her own. But he was a little surprised--and displeased--that she’d managed to get so close without him noticing her presence. He wasn’t usually so careless. His mouth turned down as she returned to the table. It had to be the wind. It was faint, but it was pushing scents away from him, not toward him.

“You can have this back now.”

Her voice was soft but clear, and closer to his ear than he expected it to be, seeping through the rough material of his cap. He suppressed a reactive flinch and looked down, surprised to see the roll of money he’d given her earlier appear on the table in front of him. He blinked at it, then up at her as she slid back into her chair.

She gave him a weak smile. “I don’t know how you can be comfortable carrying around so much money like that. I was so afraid that someone would steal it from me that I had a hard time remembering what I wanted to get.”

He just sat there, distracted by the picture of her, wandering the intimate apparel with a blank stare as she nervously clutched the money in her pocket, that flashed through his mind. A quick, involuntary grin tugged the corners of his mouth upward. “Heh. It can’t have been too hard to remember why you were in there.” He nodded across the street.

For just a second she looked startled. Then another smile--this one almost relieved--flitted across her lips. “No, it wasn’t. But you can keep that from now on, okay? I don’t think I’ll need it anymore.” She hesitated, giving him a tentative look. “Thank you--for bringing me out here today. I didn’t realize how much I actually needed.”

InuYasha studied her features for a moment. Her smile was warm and her face open and friendly, the blue-black strands of her hair scattered around her shoulders in the faint breeze. Inside him, he felt that odd tension ease, just a bit. “You don’t have to thank me.” His voice came out rough, almost grumbling, and he paused for a moment to give his throat a chance to clear. “I’m just doing for you what I would do for anyone else at the Sachi. It’s nothing special.”

“Mmm.” With that non-committal murmur, Kagome sat forward, resting her elbows along the table. She set her chin in her palm, her gaze drifting around them, taking in the surrounding tables and the general peaceful atmosphere of the town. “But to me, who has nothing, it’s special.” She turned back to him, still smiling softly. “That’s enough for a thank you, don’t you think?”

He grunted, but didn’t feel comfortable commenting further, so they just sat at the table quietly, waiting for Miroku to come back.

“We’ll be going back after lunch, right?”

He allowed his eyes to glance over her again. “After we pick up a few more things.”

“It’s a shame. It’s so nice here--I think I would like to spend a little more time exploring.” Her clear, smoke-colored eyes focused on him. “So how often can I expect to come into Sounkyo like this?”

He thought for a minute, then shrugged again. “You know that list Kaede gave you?” She nodded. “We’ll get enough of everything on it to last us one month. It’s roughly that--although sometimes it’s longer, sometimes shorter.”

She didn’t move for a moment, though he could tell she was thinking that over. “And you don’t ordinarily come into town with Miroku.” Her eyes went to the cap on his head. “You spend a lot of time by yourself, don’t you?”

He shifted in his seat, pulling his gaze away from her to watch the sporadic flow of bikes, cars, and people meandering along the street in front of them. “So? Maybe I like it that way.”

Kagome looked almost troubled by his reply. Her brows wrinkled in a frown, but she didn’t seem to have an answer. She looked again to the hat on his head, then suddenly sat up straight, drawing his attention back to her. “You should take off your hat.”

“What?” He eyed her, unsure how to take the strange demand. “Why?”

“Because--” She stopped, looking uncertain herself, as if she hadn’t thought out a precise reason for him to do so. “Because….” Her gaze darted around, searching aimlessly over the colorful, well-kept buildings and surrounding mountains. “Because it’s a beautiful day, and you should be enjoying it, not hiding from it.”

Now he knew how to react. His brows lowered and he growled. “I’m not hiding.”

Her eyes rolled. “Yes, I know, you’re protecting. But there’s no one to protect right now.” She gestured around. “We’re pretty much alone.”

Not quite true--there were people filtering by on the sidewalks, and one or two scattered among the tables--but she did have a point.

“Besides, your ears can’t be comfortable under there.”

Another good point--he’d never like them flattened against his head like they currently were. The lining was scratchy, too. Not that he was about to admit those minor annoyances to her. “Keh! My ears are none of your business.”

She took one look at his obstinate face and sighed, sitting back in her chair. “I just thought it would be nice. I like to actually see the face of the person I’m talking too, InuYasha. And you don’t like that hat, either--you’re just too stubborn to admit it.” She sighed again, then gave him a sidelong look. “But if you’re afraid of what people will think….”

He snorted. What did she think he was--some kid? He was decades beyond letting such a ridiculous taunt get to him. “I don’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks,” he informed her shortly.

She must have heard something in his tone, because that brought her up short. “You… You really don’t, do you?” Her expression, like her tone, was confused. “Then why not take it off? We’re just sitting here. It can’t hurt.”

His scowl turned into an irritated glare that he directed at her--a part of him sincerely hoping to intimidate her into backing off the subject. “Because I don’t want to.”

The frown was back on her face, carving the skin between her brows. “But why?”

Damn. She wasn’t going to let it go. “Why do you care?”

“Because….” She bit her lip. “Because I don’t like it. That hat makes it harder to talk to you. It’s almost as if…. As if you’re wearing a mask.”

“Wearing a….” The assertion--and the insight that it revealed--shocked him; a sharp jolt shot through him, clenching his stomach muscles. “Tough. I like it.”

“Do you?” She was still giving him that odd, probing look. She shook her head. “I don’t believe you. I think maybe you feel like you have to wear it.”

Again, shock ripped through his chest. His jaw snapped shut and his expression darkened. “Oi. Are you calling me a liar, bitch?”

Her eyes widened at his words, then narrowed as a gratifying spark of temper shot through their depths. She sat forward. “You’re not? Prove me wrong, then. Take it off.”

His fingers curled around the metal arm of his chair. The challenge was unmistakable--and incredibly unwise on her part when he was already rather fed up for the day, though he was sure she didn’t realize it. His immediate--rather disconcerting--impulse was to show her, in the most convenient method available, why challenging him was a bad idea.

He didn’t let himself get far enough with that to figure out what the method would be. Slightly panicked, he squashed the urge and let a frustrated growl slip instead. Stubborn bitch. This was stupid. The whole damn subject was stupid, and he shouldn’t be letting it--letting her--bother him. “Will you leave it the fuck alone if I do?”

She hadn’t been expecting him to say that. She sat up, her features smoothing out in surprise. Slowly, she nodded. A faint, almost-smile brightened her expression.

His golden eyes studied her face. Then, with another growl and before he could give it too much thought, he grasped at the bill of the cap, tugged it off his head, and slapped it onto the table in front of him. His eyes never broke contact with the clear, smooth gray of hers. His ears, free after so long a confinement, twitched as they resumed their normal shape, adjusting to the chill of the air and the influx of unmuffled sound. “There,” he snapped. “Happy now?”

Her gaze darted to the top of his head briefly before the suggestion of a smile blossomed warmly across her features. “Yes.” The retort was good-natured and surprisingly cheerful. “Aren’t you?”

He stared at her blankly. Happy? Because he took off a stupid hat?

She reached out and busied herself with pouring a cup of coffee. Well…. Maybe he was more physically comfortable with it off than on, but….

His eyes drifted back to the cap on the table. Black brows twisted into a faint frown.

This was the first time he’d ever taken the hat off in the middle of town. Ever. It was the first time he’d ever felt the freedom to do so--after all, better safe than sorry, right? And it was his responsibility to make sure everyone stayed as safe as possible.

And yet, there lay the damn baseball cap, right there on the table. And he felt no urgency to get it back on.

A soft, hollow tapping against the table drew his attention. His eyes focused on the slim, feminine hand that had reached out to rest near his coffee cup. He followed the attached arm up to find Kagome looking at him expectantly, as if she’d already said something and was waiting for an answer. He blinked at her, and she gave another one of her exasperated little eye rolls.

“Do you want some more?” She pointed to the coffee pot near her elbow. “It’s cooling, so if you want it hot, you should have some now.”

He blinked at her again, and felt his expression soften. He drew a shallow breath and allowed his body to relax. Cautiously, he sat forward and gave her a hesitant nod. “Sure.”

A brief smile flickered at him as she picked up the pot, before being replaced by a frown as she poured. “Really, it wasn’t a very smart idea to leave the whole thing out here--it needs to be kept hot.” She set it back in the middle of the table, then glanced around. “Someone should really talk to that waiter.”

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Standing well hidden just inside the café’s side doors, hands shoved comfortably in his pocket, Miroku watched through a window as InuYasha and Kagome held what looked to be a civil conversation. Interestingly enough, it seemed to be going well, though he did wish he could hear what they were saying. Of course, Miroku found any interaction his employer had with his new housekeeper interesting--especially his reactions.

InuYasha suddenly reached up and ripped the cap off his head. He fixed a challenging glare on the woman next to him as he tossed it onto the table between them.

Both eyebrows lifted and dark eyes widened.

Faintly astonished, he gave a low whistle. “She got him to take it off.”

He shook his head, pensive gaze turning inward. He’d been trying to convince InuYasha that he didn’t have to wear the cap in town--at least not every time--for several years now. True, the cap and gloves had originally been his suggestion (and probably still were a good idea), but they’d become more than just a safeguard for the one wearing them, and that had never been his intention. Now, they were simply another way the hanyou avoided people, very much like the hostility he routinely used with strangers, and Miroku had long since grown sick of watching it.

But InuYasha was stubborn. He didn’t have any desire to expand beyond the isolated group at the Sachi that he considered to be in his care, and he wasn’t willing to take even the small risk of removing the cap and gloves, no matter the rationale.

In his more generous moments, Miroku understood completely. Most of the time, though, it just frustrated him to see such idiocy coming from one of the only people he’d ever met that he was willing to call friend.

But after one month with their mysterious new staff member, InuYasha had simply…removed it.

Miroku turned an assessing gaze on the young woman sitting beside his friend as she offered him coffee. Maybe…just maybe… Kaede was right about her, despite her appearance.

It might be to his advantage to get involved in this. Kagome was the first woman InuYasha had paid any attention to in years--though she’d practically had to die to get it. Still, it was a good sign; it would be such a pity to let this opportunity slip by without action. InuYasha was already far more engaged with their attractive guest than he himself realized, thanks to his blind stubbornness. A few pushes in the right direction could have the hanyou’s energies focused quite intently on a much more positive path.

Besides, InuYasha was such a pain in the ass when he was cranky--and by Miroku’s recollection, he’d been abnormally cranky for just about five years now. It was past time for the hanyou to loosen up a bit. And of course, the fact that it would make Miroku’s life easier to have InuYasha’s interest directed somewhere other than the Sachi and its inhabitants had nothing to do with the concern he felt.

Absolutely nothing.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Breaking away from his thoughts, Miroku finally turned to acknowledge the waiter from earlier--who had been standing beside him for several minutes now, and was nervously holding a small stack of menus in one hand. He gave the young man a polite smile. “Ah, yes. I was wondering where you were. I just thought you should know that a young woman has joined our table.”

“Yes. I am…” the waiter glanced out the window in the direction of their table as he presented the menus with a small bow, “…terribly sorry about the delay.”

Miroku shook his head and tucked the menus under one arm. “I’d like to apologize for my friend’s behavior earlier. He’s…not very good with people, I’m afraid. You have my word that your efforts while we are here will be worth it.”

The younger man looked relieved, but dutifully waved his hands in a negating motion. “No, no. Not at all. It’s my pleasure.”

With a wry smile, Miroku’s head turned for another glance at the table. “I wonder.” He sighed, then shrugged. “At any rate, you shouldn’t worry about him any longer. I have the feeling….” He trailed off, then turned a rather sly look back on the young man. “I believe that he’ll be a little easier to deal with now.”

The poor boy looked confused, but simply nodded and bowed once again. “I’ll be with you in just a moment. Please enjoy yourselves until then.”

Miroku gave a slight bow of his own. “Of course. Please take your time.” His disinterested gaze followed the waiter as he made his way around the tables and customers populating the inside of the café. For just a bit, he allowed his eyes to drift over the elegantly appointed furnishings and soft lighting, taking in the quiet atmosphere of clinking silverware and murmured conversations, absorbed in his thoughts.

Kagome’s arrival at the Sachi was both inconceivable and alarmingly coincidental--and Miroku had never been fond of situations that he didn’t fully understand. At the very least, she was a cause for great caution.

His attention settled momentarily on the entrance, a set of beautifully designed french double doors off to his right. They were thrown open in welcome to any potential customers, and people could be seen strolling idly by along the sidewalk in front.

Still…. Despite the circumstance, she might actually turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

A figure across the street from the café passed into his line of vision.

Miroku blinked, torn from his thoughts as his eyes focused, almost of their own will, onto one of the most intriguing feminine forms he had ever been privileged to view. He was too far away to see much of her features, but he noted the straight bangs framing the smooth face and the wide, exotically shaped eyes. Her thick, dark-brown hair was tied into a loose tail and hung down her back, swaying as she walked--the wavy tip of the mass just brushing against….

One of the most luscious backsides he had ever seen.

And just who is that?

She was a vision, dressed warmly, and with a large duffle bag slung across her back, and a bulky square traveling case of some kind in one hand. She walked slowly, her head turning to read signs and scan the area as she went. She looked like she was lost.

And she was moving away from him.

Completely forgetting about InuYasha and Kagome, Miroku found his feet moving, heading for the entrance and that beautiful young woman. If she were lost, she would need directions, right? She was alone, after all. She was probably new in town and looking for her hotel. He could point her to some nice ones, maybe offer to escort her to the gorges a little later.

He could find out her name.

“Sir? Excuse me--sir!”

The voice almost didn’t penetrate his occupied thoughts; if it hadn’t been a soft, feminine, and slightly concerned voice, it wouldn’t have.

He stopped just outside the doors, sending a distracted, somewhat irritated glance over his shoulder at the woman who was calling out to him. She was a young woman, pretty enough, with short black hair held back with barrettes and the uniform tux-shirt that all the employees at this particular café wore. She came walking up to him rather quickly, and drew to a stop with a stiff, but polite, bow. “Please pardon me, I don’t mean to inconvenience you, but….” She straightened and pointed at the menus under his arm and gave him a funny look. “Those belong in here.”

Miroku glanced down, surprised to realize that he’d forgotten he even had them. He looked up with an embarrassed grin and scratched sheepishly at the back of his head. “Oh, of course. My apologies. You see, I was just--” He turned to point out the mysterious woman, only to break off.

She was gone.

“Just….”

That was fast. She must have reached a corner and turned off. Disappointment swept through him--a surprisingly strong reaction for him to have for any member of the opposite sex. He briefly considered handing the menus over and following to see if he could find her, but decided that, beyond being too much work, that would be a little too odd an action to live down if InuYasha ever found out. And Miroku was nothing if not practical.

He turned the full force of his most charming smile on the waitress. “I just thought I saw someone I knew. Nothing important. Forgive me for the trouble. I’ll return to my table now.”

She looked askance at him, but returned his smile. “Of course. No trouble at all.” She stood back, her spine against the doorframe and waited with a pointed stare.

Miroku sighed and hesitantly moved past her and back into the café. The waitress’s smile grew, and she nodded her thanks to him and followed him inside.

He didn’t look back. Whoever she’d been, she was just some woman, nothing more. She’d caught his eye, but now that she had disappeared, she wasn’t worth spending any more time thinking about. Just some random, albeit lovely, woman.

Nothing more.

****************************************************************** *

A/N: Ok, so I’m trying a little experiment, and I’d like your help.

Normally I like to keep my chapters a little longer, but I’m finding that the way the sections are falling, they’re reaching to just outside my cut-off range for length (which is 12,000 words. Anything more than that, I have always felt, is too long for any one chapter.). So I’m having to break them in half--but then they’re just a little shorter than I like them to be, and I’m not entirely comfortable with that, either. So, author mini-poll time: does anyone out there find it difficult to read longer chapters like that in one sitting? Is the length as they’ve been (around 6,000 words) acceptable? Not sure if I’m going to keep them as short as they’ve been, but I’d like some feedback on the concept from people who read these with a fresh perspective. ^_^

*Sounkyo, Japan, just so everyone knows, is an actual place in the Hokkaido region. However, for the purposes of this story, my Sounkyo is only somewhat loosely based on the real place. It only faintly reflects the real place, and I’m not trying to insult the place or mislead the reader in presenting it the way I do.

* Daisetsuzan National Park: located in the mountainous center of the northern Japanese island of Hokkaido. Daisetsuzan is the largest national park in Japan.

Ok, the next one’s almost done. We’ll see how long that one turns out. ^^ As always, any questions, comments, or corrections are welcome and appreciated.

Cheers and blessings,

~Quill