A/N: Don't let this chapter fool you: this is probably going to be the longest chapter. Most will be drabbly. This is my creative outlet to combat the intensity of my current college courses, so it all comes to me in bits and spurts. There are probably a lot of mistakes, but that's okay. This is me just having some fun, so enjoy!

Rating: T but may change later

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter One:

Sometimes Kagome got lost in her past.

There were moments where she would glance out her apartment window, and would be overcome by memories of what she had lost. She would be eating at WacDonalds with the girls, and she would catch orange hair out of the corner of her eye. Sometimes she would see a little girl with her parents, and would imagine she was seeing another little girl; one with smiles, and flowers.

She tried her best to lock it all away, to throw it all to the back of her mind. She would shake off the memories, put on a brave face, and move on.

It had been almost eight years since she returned to her home. Eight years of memories to plague her. After her return home, she would spend hours sitting just outside of the well house, her back pressed against the wood, and her head bowed over her knees.

Her powers, the brilliant mass of pink light that made her who she was, a priestess, were gone. She had spent the first year after returning home from the well searching to find someone, anyone, that reminded her of what she had lost. She had found nothing. She had felt nothing. And so one night, as she sat against the well house, she resolutely took her abilities, and pressed them into a little safe in her head and threw the key.

Out of morbid curiosity years later, she had knocked an arrow and released, and felt nothing when no light appeared. It was simply an arrow in the bark of the Goshinboku, looking as simple of an arrow as the one she had pulled from Inuyasha's chest.

That night, she threw her bow into the well house, and never touched it again.

She finished school. She graduated amongst the lowest in her class, but she had at least passed. With grades so low, she chose not to attend university. After years of traveling, of fighting for her life, she just couldn't bring it in herself to care.

She found a job. A simple desk-job, one that paid her bills and kept her occupied during the day. She would sit at her small desk for hours, surrounded by others sitting at their own little desks, and she would pack up at the end of the day and head home.

There were many nights she would lay in her bed and wish she wasn't so alone.

When she had moved out of the shrine, her mother had understood. Her mother was often the one who would come and sit besides her, outside of the well house, and offer her comfort by simply being there.

When Kagome had quietly told her it was her time to leave, her mother had smiled sadly and said, "You are existing. Find something to make you live again."

Kagome had nodded, given her a hug, and had gone to pack.

It had been four years since then, and she still had not found her purpose. Once, she had been important. She had struggled for years to correct a horrible mistake, dealt to her by a fate she had been born into. She had accepted her duty, she had saved her friends, and the world. She had stayed strong.

But once she had completed her task, it seemed fate had simply forgotten her.

Kagome let out a soft sigh, brushing her hair away from her face. She was camped out on her couch in front of her television, idly flipping through channels. Her eyes strayed from the set up to the clock that adorned the wall.

As if on cue, her front door opened, and three girls piled in, giggling about something or another. Her childhood friends walked in, each of them smiling at Kagome.

"You're not ready yet?!" Eri cried, striding towards Kagome. "You knew about this all week."

Kagome frowned at her, glancing down at her clothes. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she asked, irritation clouding her voice.

Yuka scoffed, and dug around inside the large purse she had over her shoulder. "You look like you just left work, that's what! Luckily," she smirked, pulling something out of her bag. "Ah-ha! I came prepared." With a wink, she tossed the item into Kagome's lap.

Kagome slowly held up the fabric, untangling it and quickly shot a glare towards her friend. "You brought me clothes?!"

"We just wanted you to be able to blend in," Ayumi said quietly, coming over to sit down besides Kagome. "We know you don't like to stand out."

"How is what I'm wearing going to make me stand out?" Kagome demanded.

Eri rolled her eyes. "Uh, because you're wearing dress pants and a dress shirt?"

"So?" Kagome asked crossly.

"So," Yuka drawled. "We're going to a club. Not just any club, but the opening of a new club! You can't go dressed like a reporter, they may not let you in!"

Kagome glanced between the three girls, and seeing the determination in each of their faces, let out a sigh of defeat. "Fine. But I am just letting you know, I am NOT happy about this!"

The girls cheered, and Kagome gathered the dress, and left to change.

The club was crowded. The girls had all shot her appreciative looks when she had emerged from the bathroom in the small black dress Yuka had brought, and Kagome was pleased to note that she most certainly did not stick out in the crowd.

The girls had dragged her onto the dance floor amongst the other masses of sweating, gyrating bodies. Yuka and Eri had really gotten into it, the beat of the bass in the music having them move together as if they were between the sheets.

Ayumi and Kagome stood awkwardly by them, swaying together, each holding onto a drink. They sipped at the alcohol, shaking their heads in amusement at the appreciative and lustful looks Yuka and Eri were receiving.

But Kagome was suffocating.

After her return from the well, she had found that crowds sent her spine tingling. Her heart would pound, her eyes seeking through the crowds for a terror that no longer existed. She had become a warrior. Three years in the past had made one out of her, and she was understandably cautious around people now.

Yuka and Eri were occupied now: they each had their own dance partners, and Kagome could tell by the way they were moving that these men would be sneaking awkwardly out of their apartment in the morning.

Ayumi had found a boy too, a cute boy with glasses, who had come up to her and shyly introduced himself. Kagome tapped Ayumi on her shoulder, whispered that she was going to head home, and melted into the crowd.

She hit up the bar first, squeezing in between bodies, to order a beer. As she waited, back leaning onto the stylish marble, she swore she caught a glimpse of golden eyes framed under white hair. Memories hit her hard then and there, with the music pounding so loud that she could feel her legs vibrating, of a little boy snuggled up in her arms while she screamed into a ditch.

The bartender tapped her on the shoulder, and she practically ripped her beer away from him, and practically bolted.

She pressed through the crowds, her heart in her throat, and she attempted to physically run from her memories. She finally exited the mass of bodies, and practically flew out of the double doors of the club.

She wasn't expecting to literally run into anyone.

She blinked for a moment, realizing dizzily that she was on the ground. She flushed, attempting to scramble up, and trying to fix her dress as she moved.

A cold voice snapped angrily from above her, and as Kagome stood, brushing off her dress, she gaped at what she saw.

It was a man, who was clearly not Japanese. His face was quite handsome, but Kagome had seen better during her travels in the past. His face was round, an almost hint of baby-fat in his cheeks, with thick dark eyelashes hiding electric blue eyes, framed by a mop of orange hair.

For a brief moment, she found herself questioning if this could be Shippo: but there was no way. Shippo didn't have eyes that color.

The man was scowling now, his arms crossed over his chest.

My, what big arms you have, her libido giggled.

Kagome flushed darkly, bowing to him. "I'm sorry for bumping into you!" she said, face aflame. "I wasn't paying attention."

He snapped something else again, in what she believed to be English. She straightened, and said, "Sorry, I don't speak English either."

"What's going on here?" an amused voice asked, and Kagome glanced behind her to see another man leaning against the hood of a car by the curb. And my, what a sexy car that was. It was slick, clearly built for speed, and was a violent red; like the color of blood, she recognized.

The newcomer had to be related to the man she had bumped into. In fact, she would go so far to say that they were twins. The only difference she could see glancing between the two, was that this new man had lighter hair, more of a strawberry-blonde than true orange.

"She touched me," the man besides her grumbled in perfect Japanese, brushing off his leather jacket with a look of faint disgust on his face.

"Sunny, I'm sure it was an accident," the man leaning against the car shook his head, hiding a laugh behind a smile. "Besides, you've had plenty of women touch you."

"No," the man with orange hair snapped back, "I touched them."

"And I'm sure they liked it," the blonde smirked.

Kagome could feel her embarrassment fading, but she knew the color was rising in her face: this time with anger. She clenched her fists to her side, nails digging in so hard to her skin that she could feel when one of her nails drew blood.

"Shoo, girl," the man with orange hair snapped. "I would actually like to get in to the club."

Kagome's temper snapped. This man was bringing up memories of a certain jackass who liked to throw around a different word: human. She glared at the man, who took a step back and the pure hatred in her face.

"How about you get the fuck out of my face?" she hissed. "Try learning some manners, you might be surprised!"

The man scowled. "I didn't come here to use manners." Innuendo practically oozed off the word, and Kagome could feel herself starting to tremble with her rage.

The man leaning by the car snorted. "You get more women acting like a jackass then you do being polite."

"Okay," Kagome snapped. "Go get your women, if you can! I don't know what's uglier: your face or your personality!" And she stomped away from the gaping male, heading out towards the road in front of the snickering blond.

"Who are you calling ugly?!" the man snarled from behind her, and a hand was grabbing her shoulder, whipping her around to face him.

And her powers, her powers that she had shoved aside into a metaphorical box in her head, violently came alive.