All Inuyasha characters owned by Rumiko Takahashi




Chapter 1- Uptown







There is no comfort in silence. Nor is it in the smell of burning flesh.

She staggered, her eyes burning from the toxic smog covering the area. Her bow was missing; strewn across the village between the waves of demon attacks.

Her chest heaved, her legs threatened to give underneath. She was bleeding from underneath her fuku. Her arm was broken. Her hair fell in tufts down her back, and she faintly remembered that it had been chewed upon.


Blood spilled from her mouth. She choked as the dark red liquid arose from her chest into her throat. Kagome Higurashi was dying.

The entire area- the village, the forest- was leveled. The image brought her back to her history class pictures of the bomb at Hiroshima tugged at the back of her mind.


He was with her at one point. They had separated in the attack. She had told him to run. The miko was the epicenter of the attack, the near complete jewel hanging around her neck. The kitsune had cried out her name as she found herself being lifted. Then thrown.

She tripped and her body screamed. Every cut reopened, every bruise swelled, her brain rattled against her skull. Her already sprained ankle had caught on something. She glared fiercely at the offending object she had tripped over.

And the object stared back at her.



"Would you like a private dance in the champagne room?"

The woman smiled mischievously as she twirled his tie around her fingers. She ground herself against him intently, the glitter her thighs sparkling against the red lighting. Queenie always went for the timid customers- the nerd in middle management, the shy college kid his friend brought to the strip club for the first time. A tightly wound customer meant a light bill. A tightly wound customer in the champagne room meant rent.

Brown eyes watched her friend from just outside the changing room. Kagome was tired. Letting out a yawn, she let her eyes drift to the stage as the song neared its end. She would be next. As the other girl scraped her dollars off the platform. The younger girl smirked as Kagome passed her, singles fluttering at her g-string as she walked to the back.

The miko climbed onto the stage, scanning her audience. College kids in the corner. Occasional. Mildly profitable. An old man in the corner. A regular. Liked her; very profitable. A couple. New. The girl would throw ones to show her boyfriend she was cool. Tonight would be a decent night.

Green lights danced across her skin (she specifically requested against red) as she began to move. She lowered herself seductively onto all fours, arching her back as she made her way towards the old man. He smiled at her, and she gave a coy smile back.

"Mr. Asahina."


Mr. Asahina owned half of Tokyo, his face in any newspaper at any given time. At sixteen, he was homeless. At 24 his net worth was more than half his American counterparts. Now, at age 82, he was retired. He kicked back to enjoy the "finer things" in life. Wearing only khakis and a sweater, no one would recognize him over any other old pervert in the city.

Kagome gave a nod to Queenie. The other dancer quickly joined the stage. When rich men stopped by the girl have to give them special, exclusive attention.

She sat up, presenting herself to him. "How are you today, sir?"

Green lights made his wrinkled face look other worldly. The same routine. "I'm fine dear."

Kagome ran her fingers through her hair, rocking her hips to the beat of the music. "Who would you like me to be tonight?"

He made a false thoughtful face before saying. "Do it like you love me."

She paused for only a moment. This was new, but she had be given worse request in her career. A crisp hundred dollar bill stuck out between his fingers. Mr. Asahina only used American bills with her.

"You are very good to me, sir, " Kagome noted as he promptly stuck the bill between her breasts.

"Because I like you," he replied as the dark-haired woman leaned back on her elbows, "you are the only one here I can relate to."

"And how is that?"

He gestured around him. "These other girls know nothing. They know the hustle, they know making a quick buck to feed a couple of kids. You, however," he leaned forward, "you have more to you. You look like you have truly lived, like you have been through more in your years than I have in mine."

She spread her legs before him. "And how do you figure that, sir?"

"Your eyes... they tell me all I need to know about you."

Kagome spread her legs before him, scooting forward so she was almost straddling him. He noticed the black leather thigh boots and smirked, "You know, I have a son who would love you."

The woman raised an eyebrow, reaching for her straps. "You would set your son up... with a stripper?"

The old man shrugged.. "The boy is an immovable object. He needs an unstoppable force to try and shake up his life. Meet me tonight, after your shift is over."

She looked at him suspiciously. Girls only met men after work for extra cash. She knew a few who never returned. He had gotten too comfortable with her. "No, I can't."

"Miss- "

"I'm sorry sir, I enjoy being single."

He scoffed. "Only the young enjoy being single. When you get older, you will see the value in companionship."

"Then here's to dying young." She removed her top, baring her breasts for all the world to see.


It was snowing in Tokyo that night. The Uptown Gentlemen's Club frosted in a soft blanket of white. By daylight, the snow trucks will have most of it shoved against the curbs, and the pristine white would become dingy gray and brown. She inhaled- the world smelled different when it snowed- pure, peaceful.

Sneakers trudged across the icy parking lot (she hated wearing heels outside of work). Constantly aware of her surroundings, Kagome fingered the switchblade in her coat, eyeing the razor blades in the toes of her shoes. A girl could never be too careful.


She whipped her head around. There was a lone car in customer parking lot, jet black, very expensive. She circled around it from a distance and made her way to the other side of the car. She saw his feet first, the person in a fetal position against the driver side door. He was clutching his chest. Then she saw bits of white hair.


She hurried towards him. He was supposed to have left thirty minutes ago. Snow had started to layer over his side. Kagome propped him up against the car. "Mr. Asahina, can you hear me?"

He coughed first, then gestured upwards. "My phone... dial 4."

She stood up, finding his cell phone on top of the car. She shook the snow off it, finding it to still function despite the weather. She dialed 911 first, then dialed number he requested. "Hello? Asahina needs help, I think he's having a heart attack and the ambulance is coming."

She couldn't hear the other person's response over the sirens. The dark-haired woman backed away as the EMT rushed to aid the old man. She walked backward towards home, nearly getting run over by another jet black, very expensive car.

The car stopped. A tall man stepped out, long black hair flowed behind him- too long for any Japanese businessman. He stooped down next to Asahina and the two men exchanged words.

Then the younger man turned towards her, and Kagome thought she would die right there in that parking lot.