Author's Note: This was supposed to be a tiny one-shot but noooooo. And now I have to go to bed so this is completely unedited and probably riddled with mistakes. I'll fix them tomorrow.

Day 8 of the 12 Days of Witchyness

Instance

Part I

Knowing when death was coming was as much of a curse as it was a blessing. It wasn't a vision or a dream that suddenly manifested before her eyes. There weren't any neon signs or halos. It was simply – or, maybe, not simply at all – a slowing of time. An instance. The world stilled, like breaths caught in one's throat, lying in wait. An instance to stop, to look, to focus while only one body moved, convulsed, collapsed. In that singular moment, the world narrowed to one person's life, the one tipping precariously off the ledge into death. Then, just as suddenly as it happened, the world came rushing back; its sounds deafening, colours blinding. There would be only seconds to save whoever was falling, to jump into the path or push them from harm's way.

The instance couldn't last forever.

It wasn't something she was born with. It wasn't something she could control or stop. She couldn't see the instances for everyone; she couldn't choose whose life she could potentially save. Sometimes that made it easier. Sometimes, on those bad, lonely nights, that made it all the more difficult.

Kagome Higurashi wasn't a fighter. Her father hadn't been one either, though maybe if he had, her family would still be alive. Everything Kagome knew stemmed from a desperate need for survival, to exist. As a child, all alone, it had been the single thing she begged for from her foster parents. She had promised them a never-ending servitude to keep the house clean, to help with dinner, to wash the dishes. Her foster parents at the time hadn't known what Kagome knew deep down in her bones; what would constitute as the only thing that kept her sane.

She trained in every fighting style she could. She trained with every weapon she could get her hands on.

It was everything.

She had a sob story, but so did everyone else. As far as childhoods went, Kagome's was relatively normal. Her foster parents were kind, if a little cold. School had sucked; her grades average at best. The only class Kagome had ever done well in was gym and that was because in the third week, their teacher brought in a woman to talk to them and show them self defense.

It wasn't Kagome's fault that she had the woman pinned on the ground, tapping out in seconds.

She just knew how to survive.

At 25, Kagome Higurashi was finally growing into her own. The barista working at the café on 49th knew her; he only smiled before bringing the large steaming cup of Americano black to the counter, her name already written with a smiley face.

"Thanks Shippo," she murmured, taking a grateful sip as the redheaded teen grinned at her. Kagome chose to leave him that way, heading south on 49th Street until a large grey building came into sight.

The receptionist smiled at her upon entering and Kagome waved briefly before getting in the elevator. The car took her up to the 21st floor, stopping every so often to let people on or off. On time and taking pleasure in her coffee, Kagome took another sip of burning liquid just as the doors opened specifically for her. KH Protections Inc. was stamped on the wall before her in steel, indicating the office numbers should the person entering need directions. Kagome simply turned left and then made one more, waving at Kaede from the admin's desk. "Is she free?"

Kaede gave her a small smile, running a hand through her short black hair. "You know her. She always makes time for you."

She would've raised a brow at that comment but chose not to at the sound of a scuffle inside the frosted-glass office. Kagome smiled once more at Kaede before heading in, forcing down a laugh at the scene she saw. Papers were scattered everywhere, with a file folder leaning almost casually at the woman's feet. Said woman was in the middle of what looked to be the paper storm, eyes closed and shoulders slumped.

"I knew I shouldn't have gotten out of bed," Kikyo Hidaka said, mostly to herself.

"That's why I generally like to trust my gut instinct," Kagome pointed out, still having a hard time keeping the grin well-hidden from her employer. "It's always right."

"Except for when it's not."

"That doesn't happen."

Kikyo gave Kagome a flat look, assessing with her dark brown eyes. "Well are you going to stand there, or are you going to help?"

Kagome scoffed but bent down to collect the paper, ignoring the smug grin on her friend's face. The two of them made quick work of the scattered mess and soon Kikyo was pushing Kagome down into the visitor's chair. It was large, brown, and far too exotic for the relatively modest office. If asked, Kagome would bet the chair was from her most recent divorce and that the black-haired woman before her kept it out of spite.

"So how are you doing?" Kikyo asked, sitting down in her own chair and leaning forward on her desk. An innocent, expectant look crossed her face and Kagome had to hold her own expression in to stop the slow building irritation.

"I'm like I am every other day of the week," she answered. Taking another slow gulp of coffee, the moment hung between them as tense as a strung wire.

Ever so slowly, Kikyo smiled and leaned back again. "I guess I should've expected that. Well, we'll cut to the chase then. I have a list for you."

Holding out her hand, Kagome waited for the usual manila folder to grasp. When her employer didn't even budge, a red flag waved in her mind. Kikyo simply stared at her, assessing. "What's on this list?" Kagome asked. There was a system that usually occurred, a sort of script that the two women danced on. It kept Kikyo happy that their conversations were generally so efficient and it kept Kagome happy because the faster the conversation ended, the faster she could get away from other people.

She wasn't fond of people. She didn't like knowing what they never could.

"Just…take a look." The older woman handed over the file, eyes far more intent than Kagome had ever seen.

It was a testament to how much she trusted Kikyo that she didn't stand up and walk right out, that she didn't demand further explanation. They had gone through a lot together over the years, ever since their paths crossed one night. Kagome had had an instance, a moment, and Kaede's life had been saved because of it. It had been too inexplicable to explain but Kikyo wasn't like the others. Kagome had been so young then, overworked on part-time jobs that didn't pay the bills. For whatever reason, she had spilled her entire secret to the woman, on the dirty and rainy streets of their city.

And then she had struck a deal.

Kikyo had been poised to take over her father's protection services company. It seemed almost too good to be true, too much like fate had brought them together.

Maybe fate did exist. Kagome didn't know.

Still, the deal was simple. Kikyo would provide a list of names. The names always varied but they all shared something in common: someone likely wanted to hurt them. And then that list of names would be given to her to look over and Kagome would wait.

Wait for something to call out to her.

It wasn't a science. Kagome didn't know what it was. All she knew was that sometimes, a name called to her. When it did, Kagome would track them loosely, keep an eye out. When an instance arose, she would be there to protect them, to save them.

Then Kikyo handled the rest. Once Kagome let the victim know who she worked for, how it was just sheer luck and being in the right place at the right time, things tended to work out well. Kagome's goal was generally to save, not to catch killers. It had happened once or twice, but so rarely that it still benefited KH Protections. Word-of-mouth and news coverage were always enough anyways, on those few rare occurrences.

Now, Kagome spared one last glance at her employer before opening up the manila folder. She slowly scanned down the list, the column containing first and last names only. There was nothing special about it. Person by person, she went down and down and down. Nothing called out to her. Nothing triggered whatever response the universe had gifted her with. Not even the final name on the–

And then, like a gunshot, she was jolted, snapped to a moment that wasn't present. But this wasn't like the other times, wasn't even close. There were images sliding before her, too quick to process but flying by nonetheless. Black and white images with streaks of red, of silver, of gold.

Inuyasha!

Inuyasha!

INUYA–

"Kagome!" Snapping out of it was like getting stabbed in the head. Kagome cringed, face contorting with pain as she crumbled down further in the brown leather chair, hands dropping the folder to hold her head. The pain was throbbing – a pound, pound, pound inside of her skull – but it was also slowly starting to fade, duller each time. Slowly she was able to listen to what was happening around her, her dark brown eyes opening to slits.

Kikyo was in front of her, angled between the chair and the desk. She looked as close to scared as Kagome had ever seen her, not for years and years. Not since the moment Kaede almost died.

"Kagome?" she asked, voice higher than normal. "Are you okay?"

"I had–" What? What happened? That wasn't an instance, wasn't the usual tingle of familiarity when she read the names on the list.

It was something else entirely.

Kikyo made a noise of impatience, or worry. Her hands moved from the arms of the chair to Kagome's knees, the barest of pressures. "What?"

"I don't know." Her voice sounded raw, scratchy like she'd been screaming for an age. "I don't know what that was." She tried to remember but it had all happened so quickly. "The last name," she uttered. "Inuyasha."

That glint came back to her dark eyes, the one from earlier. This was the name that made the list different.

"Who is it?" Kagome demanded.

At that, Kikyo frowned. "You don't know of him? He's all over the news. He has been for years, practically since he was born."

Licking her dry lips, Kagome shook her head. She rarely paid attention to the news anyways, never really wanting to see things that she couldn't control. It was always worse when something triggered, something that was on the other side of the world and completely out of her grasp.

"His name is Inuyasha Taisho," Kikyo said. She sounded almost apologetic. Kagome had no idea why. "He's the son of a prominent political figure, who's planning on running his first campaign. His first speech is next week, right here in our city." There was only a slight pause, like for the first time ever, she was hesitating. "Do you think whatever happened means he'll be a target?"

Kagome nodded, even though it did nothing for the lingering echoes of pain. "Yes," she whispered, closing her eyes once more. "But this time, I don't think I can stop him from dying."

"This isn't about you. That's basically what this comes down to. It's not about you, or your birthright, or the fact that both of your parents look the same. It's about something a lot bigger than the likes of small-minded people who can't justify their hatred but spew it anyways.

"I'm not human. I'm not demon. I'm both.

"There's nothing wrong with me, but maybe there's something wrong with you if you disagree."

Kagome stared at the now frozen face, the picture of the man unmoving as the video ended. Long silver strands covered part of his face – wherever he was giving the speech was pretty windy – but his golden eyes were unmistakeable.

Inuyasha Taisho was an activist-turned-politician and most who knew him said that it ran in his blood. Magazines, newspapers, agendas: all of them stated that Inuyasha may not be the most normal politician to ever have the job, but he spoke his mind with alarming frequency and didn't appear to pull punches. If he saw bullshit, he called it like it was. He was the son of one of the most popular Vice Presidents to ever assist in office. The run had been one of the longest the country had seen in decades, owing to their popularity and the strides that had been made between human- and demon-kind.

So yeah, politics were part of the Taisho name.

Switching to another video, Kagome watched as the near thirty year-old half-demon literally pointed someone out in a crowd who made a rude comment that the microphone couldn't quite pick up, and then continue to destroy the man's arguments viciously. It was horrifying and yet, utterly brilliant. The man radiated harsh and brutal truths like he lived on the stuff.

The target on his back was massive. Unsurprisingly. Maybe that was why Kagome's reaction to his name had been so visceral.

"How long this time?"

The question made her look up, files being minimized as she took in the redhead smiling now sheepishly at her. "What?"

Shippo handed her another coffee without being asked. "Well, you're sitting here," he started. "You only ever stay in the shop when you're examining a ton of files. And when you do that, it's only a handful of days before you disappear for an indeterminable length of time." He shrugged, still looking sheepish. "Or so I've noticed."

Kagome look around the small café, at the few other patrons she didn't recognize. Shippo was right, of course; this was the only routine she indulged in. "Shouldn't you be working?"

Shippo shook his head and sat down in the empty chair uninvited. "I'm on my break. So, where are you going this time?"

"Nowhere, this time. I'll be in the city."

The redhead blinked big green eyes at her. "I have the feeling I'm not supposed to ask about your job."

Amused, Kagome took a sip of her new cup of coffee to hide it. "You can, but you shouldn't ask for specifics."

The kid nodded. "What do you do anyways? Are you a spy? You seem like a spy, or CIA, or something." His grin was far too big.

Snorting, she shook her head. "More like protection detail. Security. Bodyguard…that kind of thing."

"No offense," Shippo stated, "but you're pretty small."

The black-haired woman smiled, slowly letting it cover her face. "I could kill you in the next seven seconds, several different ways."

"You're an assassin then."

This time, Kagome didn't correct him.

The thing was that not all of Kagome's instances held morals. An instance was just that: a period of time that slowed, that became her entire world for its duration. It was simply about life or death, a black and white concept applied to a world of varying greys.

Inuyasha was an interesting case: an activist who was bringing attention to half-breed stigmatism. Half-breeds had a lower chance for full-time employment, a greater chance for incrimination and unlawful searches. They had absolutely zero chances of presidency as there were none in politics (besides the man himself) and no hope for backing.

Half-breeds were not welcome to demons; not accepted by humans.

Half-breeds were monsters.

Kagome sighed and opened one of the smaller manila envelopes she held in her hands. A profile of the half-breed came to view, with Kikyo's typed notes and her own tiny scrawl on the margins. The man's photo was clipped to the top – a photo by a journalist from some rag magazine. Regardless of his parentage, he was beautiful. There was no other word that properly described him. His hair was long and silver, straight with a curl at the end, as if in defiance. His eyes were not unlike liquid gold, a melting pot of gilded colours. In the photo she had his expression was closed off, almost tired. You would never know it was from the internet videos of his speeches, from the graceful way he moved when joining his father for some high society event.

Beautiful.

"Miss," the driver said suddenly, stirring her from her thoughts. "We're here."

"Right. Thank you." Kagome got out, ducking through the rain to the hotel. The big glass doors opened before her, revealing a lavish entryway. The chandelier was bright and glittery, the tapestries lined with golden thread. It was clear to see which way the party was, despite the massive, antiqued sign. Kagome held her clutch close to her and made her way to the coat check, handing it in. Her long black dress swayed against her legs as she moved towards the main ballroom.

"Your invite?" The man barring entry smiled at her, hand held out patiently.

Kagome passed it over, closing her clutch back up. Kikyo managed to obtain invitations to virtually every event. She stopped asking how a long time ago.

Everyone inside was dressed to the nines. It wasn't the first time Kagome had attended a party like this for her job, but when it did happen, it always amazed her how decorated people could become. How one night was meant for showing wealth, displaying attractiveness. Kagome had never understood it. Admired it, maybe. Sometimes, she wondered what her life would have been like if she'd grown up with her own family, in her own house.

She headed towards the bar and took a glass of red wine. She sipped slowly, scanning the room. Already knowing all of the exits, she paid them little mind. The staffers moved about in an organized sort of formation, dancing between guests with trays of food or drink. They were uniformed, hair up and tidy. Easy to spot. A live band played in the corner, all in black. The dancefloor in the middle was empty, but the tables were strategically set up around the room to accommodate any future dancing.

Kikyo's connections had informed her that Inuyasha was due to arrive in about fifteen or so minutes.

She wondered how Inuyasha would act in a group like this. Was he a social butterfly, flitting from person to person? He didn't strike her as the type, not from what she saw in those videos. Then again, so much of the job was a face for the camera and then another face in the background. How much of it was real? What was the real Inuyasha Taisho like? Was he as brash in person as he was when on the podium? Did he listen to another before he argued?

What was it like for him growing up, to be surrounded by such powerful people but still treated like a second-hand citizen?

"I have to say, I know pretty much every person in this room," a deep male voice said to her left. Kagome had known the man was coming up, but she had assumed he was coming for the bar. "But I don't know you."

She spared him only a brief glance before looking away, trying for the obvious dismissal. The man was attractive enough, black hair tied back with nice blue eyes. He had a charming smile, one she was sure helped smooth the way with a lot of women. "I'm hardly worth noting," she said, smiling a little at herself before taking another drink.

The man wasn't deterred though, much to her chagrin. "And yet, here I stand." He moved around so that he stood before her. Kagome eyed him quickly: lax posture, one hand in pocket, the other loose by his side. His head was tilted slightly, curious. He held out his hand. "I'm Miroku Tsujitani."

"Kagome," she answered. She passed on the last name, but shook his head all the same. "Did you want a drink?"

"Oh, no thank you." Miroku's smile didn't dim. "My boss would be less than pleased."

Smiling, she took a quick sip before answering. "So would mine."

"And, who is your employer?" Miroku asked, eyes narrowing despite his friendly gaze. "I only wish to know to thank them. Invitations are by donation only."

He was good, she would give the blue-eyed man that. Kagome smiled, poised to answer when the main doors to the ballroom both suddenly opened. It was far more of a grand entrance than everyone else, and it was clear why. There, in the centre, was Inuyasha Taisho. He was dressed more formally than she'd seen him in any of the videos, his hair tied back and suit buttoned up. There was no tie – no choking hazard – but his white shirt was unbuttoned at the very top, kept tight against him with his grey vest and tailored jacket.

But most startling of all, even though she knew well in advance, were the colour of his eyes. Liquid gold, stunning in the light. She watched him rake his eyes over the room – a man who took in his surroundings – before he suddenly, and strangely, locked gazes with her.

She had to take a breath. It was like a burning up her spine, nerve endings alighting. It was like the jolt from before, but far less powerful. There were no flashing images, no words dancing in her brain. It was simply this compelling sense of knowing that filled her senses. She forced herself to look away.

Thankfully, Miroku had turned away from her to full-on grin at the man entering the room. Her revelations went unnoticed by him. "Well, look who it is!"

Inuyasha didn't say anything as he came closer, but Kagome noticed the way his lip curled up, just the slightest bit in amusement. There was a light to his eyes that wasn't there before. They were friends, then. That was a terrible situation for her. She needed to get out, backtrack without really being noticed. "Miroku," the half-breed acknowledged. "I'm surprised they let you in."

"And you're still as funny as I remember you," Miroku said dryly. "Way to make an entrance."

"I had a meeting that always runs long." Inuyasha paused, taking the moment to eye Kagome as she tried to leave the circle. His gaze was enough to make her pause, awkwardly torn between fleeing and not making a scene. "Anything interesting happen?" The question was not directed at her.

"Just the same boring shit." Miroku seemed almost gleeful with the words. "The same gratitude, the same speeches, the same quick pitches." He waved his hand in the air dismissively. "You know how these things go. But, this woman right here. Can't get a straight answer out of her yet."

"I told you my name," Kagome replied easily. Trapped, trapped, trapped. She felt Inuyasha's gaze still heavily resting on her. Those golden eyes nearly bowled her over, but at least it wasn't anything like before. She counted her blessings.

"I think you mean your first name," Miroku corrected.

"Yes, well." Kagome finished the last sip of her wine and placed it back onto the bar. She was already far too engaged than she wanted to be, and leaving was the best tactic. "It's been a pleasure, gentleman but–"

"We haven't even been introduced," Inuyasha stated, his brow furrowing. "Do you…come to these gatherings often?"

A rather polite way of saying she was completely going against any form of social etiquette. Kagome wasn't stupid. "You're a man who needs no introduction, or so I've been told."

"Humour me." The half-breed stuck out his hand. "I'm Inuyasha Taisho."

"Kagome," she replied, intending to shake his hand perfunctory before disappearing. The moment their hands connected though, a shock snapped through her hand, making her whole arm buzz with it. She jolted back, scowling down at her own hand. What the hell?

Miroku hummed, and even though she didn't know the man well it sounded incredibly amused. "Sparks are flying, I see."

The half-breed rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored him. "Sorry about that."

"No," Kagome murmured, still looking at her hand. She felt betrayed. "No, that's probably my fault. My dress dragging on the carpet and all."

"I don't think–"

"I should freshen up," Kagome interrupted. She took a few steps back, lowering her head in some odd form of supplication. She didn't know; escape was the only thing on her mind. "Until later."

"But–"

Whatever Miroku was going to say, she didn't hear it. Kagome left the bar and did her best to look as casual as possible while walking quickly. She just needed a moment.

There were two other women already in there, but Kagome went straight to the sink, uncaring. She stared at herself in the mirror, barely recognizing herself with the heavy lines of eyeliner and lip tint. Makeup wasn't really her thing.

Well, she made contact. It wasn't that big of a deal. If anything, it may come in handy if she doesn't end up having to save his life. Kagome betted that Inuyasha wasn't the type to trust easily, if at all. A familiar face could go a long way. Regardless, it was best to stay on the outskirts. Survey without direct contact. Tonight was meant to size up those around him, to recognize friend from foe. In the political world, there were enemies everywhere, but who would go far enough to kill?

Kagome washed her hands for something to do, focusing on her breathing. She would go back to the ballroom and stick to the edges, hanging around larger groups to blend in. She'd find some sort of drink as an accessory and look idle while she watched. That was the plan.

Of course, the plan was ruined within minutes.

Stepping back into the hotel's ballroom, Kagome took a moment to get the bearings of those around her. Neither Inuyasha nor Miroku were instantly visible, but they couldn't have gone far. She wondered briefly if they were truly friends and make a note to look him up upon her return home. A waiter passed by with drinks so Kagome picked one up, her attention drawn away for only a moment.

It was a moment too long.

"You really don't like to give out last names."

She couldn't forget that voice, just like Kagome doubted she'd ever forget those eyes. Spinning around, she came face-to-face with Inuyasha himself. The man was staring at her, like he was assessing her from head to toe. It made Kagome want to fidget, something she hadn't felt the urge to do in a long time, if ever. Kagome wasn't one to cower, ever. But this…

This was something different.

"My last name has little importance," Kagome replied airily, trying again for dismissive. So much for sticking to the outskirts. How was she going to manage to back away now?

"Last names always have importance." Inuyasha looked down at the ground for a moment. "At least, around here they do."

"In politics."

"You say that like you're not in politics yourself." Inuyasha raised a brow, his expression intrigued. "And yet, you're here."

Kagome really should have paid more attention to the exact type of event it was. Generally, these were always surveillance missions, just a little learning of the target. She was never picked out of a crowd. Stupid Miroku, having caught her out.

And really, how did she let herself be caught out in the first place? What had she been thinking of that drove her to distraction like that?

"I have an interest in many things," Kagome answered, knowing it wasn't truly an answer at all. At least it was truthful. Her job forced her into many different worlds, many different environments. This one just so happened to be close to home. "Sometimes, it's events like this."

Inuyasha tilted his head, eyes narrow and shrewd. "I can't tell if you're trying to be mysterious to intrigue me, or because you actually don't want me to know."

That made her laugh, short and abrupt. "It's not the first one."

The half-breed scowled. "Then why are you here?"

"Same as you." She said the words calmly, eyes trained on the guests around them. "I'm people watching."

"For whose benefit?"

"My own." Kagome snapped the words, final. "You don't have to talk to me if I frustrate you."

"You don't have to frustrate me either." Inuyasha crossed his arms and it barely even pulled at his suit, the material practically made for it. It made his shoulders look broader, his stature more imposing. It made little warning bells go off in her mind, that fight or flight survival instinct kicking in like it always did. She tampered it down though. Inuyasha was the victim.

"I can do whatever I want to do." Kagome smiled at him then. "Just like you."

That quick gaze slid over her again, assessing. She could practically hear the gears in his head, grinding away at whatever information he plucked from her. Kagome couldn't dare know what he was thinking, what he thought when he looked at her, but strangely she wanted to know. The feeling was almost like a shock, like the little jolts she'd been getting from him all along.

Inuyasha held his hand out then. "Dance with me."

Wha–

What?

"Excuse me?" Kagome asked. Her voice was higher than usual, a little strangled. Her instincts were screaming at her to run.

"I want to dance. Do you?" The half-breed gestured towards the dance floor where a few couples were already there, swaying to the music. Kagome looked at them, and then made the mistake of returning her gaze to his. Those golden eyes were so intense, so focused on her that Kagome honestly didn't want them to look away. It was terrifying.

Her body tingled, just like it had earlier. Like when she read his name on the list, only without the pain. This was just...pleasure.

"Fine," she breathed out. She placed her hand into his and ignored the tiny shock. "Let's dance."

To Be Continued

I'm so sorry. This will be edited tomorrow. Maybe even partially redone tomorrow. WHO KNOWS.

Feedback is love.