Author’s Note: I know you all are going to kill me for putting the author’s note right before a really good chapter. But please be patient with me. I need to explain some things about this fic. Discaimer: this is MY IDEA, no Inuyasha doesn’t belong to me.

Summary: The Shikon group defeated Naraku (finally) and Kagome returned to the future with Shippo, however it hurt too much to be in Japan anymore, so by her request, her mother allowed her to do a student exchange program to the United States. There she learns to play a rare and beautiful instrument. The harp. With her talent and academic achievements, she signs up for the running start program, which allows high school students to go to college while still part of the high school. However, Kagome doesn’t wish to go to a community college for running start but Pacific Luther University. After sending the application for minoring in music, the school board complied...that is if she auditioned for the music class.

Chapter One: Performance of a Lifetime

Darkness filled the room. Then by grace, light filled it revealing a stage, yet despite the lighting, the stage stayed in the shadows. A single file of twelve people from late thirties to older ages filed in and took a seat in the audience. Dust sparkled in the light swirling in a never-ending dance. Old velvet curtains hugged the stage defiant of their age.

‘We still can perform.’ They seemed to say.

The ancient theatre spoke of many plays and music concerts boasting of famous musicians and actors alike. Great symphonies with highly acclaimed conductors and heavenly choirs trained in the vast music halls of Vienna and Rome could almost be heard in the empty auditorium. Ghosts of the past were everywhere whispering secrets and times of old.

Rolling of soft rubber wheels were heard for a moment then the theatre once again submerged into silence. Scraping sounds were made then a soft twang of strings being pulled, stretched to their full potential. Through all of this, the audience stayed silent. In their hands they held clipboards and pens poised in the dusty air.

A gentle sigh was heard among the roaring silence of the ancient auditorium. The audience of professors of music sat contently in the faded plush seats, waiting. Like any other form of art, music took time, it wasn’t created, it was born from the soul and heart. Absolute silence reigned as they continued to wait. Then born from that deafening silence came a soft, intense haunting tune. At first they couldn’t catch onto the piece, but soon recognized it as Deborah Henson-Conant’s Nataliana. Although it was a fairly new piece by a fairly new composer, Deborah already made the music world that she knew what she was doing. However their attention tuned back to the dark and forbidden stage.

The haunting tune continued to whisper, echoing all over the auditorium. Ironically enough, the song fit perfectly with the atmosphere of where they sat in quiet anticipation. It was a shocking interpretation of a major scale song. Yet of all things to think about, it fit. Some of the judges who managed to break free of the spell flipped silently through their music. She was playing at a slower tempo than was written!

All thoughts of ‘imperfection’ was wiped away from their minds as the soft, intense music began to gradually grow until it swelled, singing strongly of sorrow. Everybody listened with pure, rapt attention. Gently the forte went back to a soothing piano. Melodious chords sweetly flowed from those skillful hands hidden within the darkness of the stage, painting a picture with music in front of their eyes.

The judges could feel something stir in their hearts as those heavenly notes reached their finely tuned ears. The air hummed with the vibrations of past notes blending into the stillness of the attentive theatre. In a hushed, peaceful tone the last note rang quietly with beauty and truth behind it. A hand somewhere then muffled the note into indefinite silence. Born from silence and back to silence it shall go.

The judges stared at their clipboards to find them empty of any marks. They sat in the dusty chairs of the theatre waiting once again. She had showed fiery stroke of genius behind those shadows obscuring her from them. Moments passed by.

Once again the music came to life in joyous chords of what some of the judges recognized as the Suite of Eight Dances by none other than the world famous Salzedo. They were swept away by the dances, which were arranged in a strange order, for normally Siciliana would be the fourth song out of the eight. They dismissed it though, she was the interpreter of the songs. A pregnant pause suddenly made them uneasy. Was she becoming nervous? Did she figure out that she forgot Siciliana? Just as they were about to call out to musician hidden in the darkness. A single note rang out.

Once again the judges were captivated. Unlike the starting note of the other songs, this one struck at their hearts. Pure sorrow and emptiness entered them. She had become a different person. Excitement coloring their mouths, they leaned forward as she started the song out silently. Not intense silent, but soft whispering silence that was found in the wind.

Everybody leaned forward straining their ears to hear the notes, when it started to crescendo to a forte. Then suddenly it dropped down to a piano and once again began to crescendo finally staying at a forte, crying out to the audience. With defeated sorrow it dropped into quiet intensity. Then the song changed from sorrow to a happier tune when it once again abruptly became minor again. It was filled with heart wrenching pain tearing away at their souls and hearts. Lost happiness and a love that would never be. As the song reached its ending the notes slowed down, then ended on a paused, quiet note filled with unshed tears. A contrast to the ending note of Nataliana. This time the hand did not muffle the last note.

It melted into the shadows like a voice that had been ignored and defeated, fading into nothingness.

A simple song! Of all things! Yet she had transformed it into the most complex of all songs, giving it a real soul that brought emotion from the audience. The ancient theatre looked as if it were brand new again. Music such as this had given it life and meaning.

The judges clapped, dazed at the performance that she had given. Melding out of the shadows, the musician appeared before them. She had dark blue- black hair that shined in the lights of the auditorium framing her pale face. Dark purple-blue eyes glittered as she then bowed to them.

“Ms. Higurashi we will promptly notify you with our decision.” One of the judges said as they regained their senses.

Kagome thanked them as she watched them leave the old theatre. Smiling she jumped off the stage and sat in one of the audience chairs staring at the ceiling which was a stained glass dome depiction of angels and floral designs.

Old late 1800’s-mid 1900’s ‘restored’ chandeliers glowed in white warmth, twinkling with the crystal droplets. Kagome smiled again as she got out of her chair and walked to the stage once more. Walking to the side, she flicked a switch on. Lights flashed, pin pointed onto the stage. There in the center stood a magnificent harp with a gold column boasting of angels and Moorish geometric patterns.

Rich dotted white wood glittered in the light. Bird’s eye maple for the subtle heavenly sound. There sitting on the ancient stage, it somehow felt right to see it sit there gleaming. This theatre was hers by right. Giving the harp one last wistful glance, she turned the lights off and left the theatre, locking it up as usual.

Sunlight bore down upon her as she walked away from the small empty street surrounded by old buildings that once had been mansions and were now shops. Kagome slowly walked down a hill, her feet clacking on the concrete sidewalk echoing into the restored ancient buildings that once housed the rich. She continued to walk, when she came upon a street sitting a top a hill. At the utmost top stood a pure white mansion of grace and neglected beauty. She leaned over the fence and gazed down the hill. At the base of the hill on the other side was a street. Turning her gaze to the left, she found a set of weathered marble stairs.

Kagome climbed down the stairs until she reached a platform with huge stone vases. She stopped and sat down taking shelter in the cool shade of a maple tree. That was when she noticed that she was sitting on the stairs to what once was a fairly large garden before the rest of it was formed into the street in front of her. Leaning against a limestone column, she gazed at the ocean in front of her sparkling dotted with boats coming and going in the Port of Tacoma.

Finally after some time, Kagome glanced at her watch and nearly yelled in surprise at the time.

“Dang! I’m going to be late in picking Shippo up!” She muttered.

Giving the abandoned mansion one last glance filled with respect, Kagome sped off to her car.