Hey! This oneshot is for the readers of two of my stories 'Roadtrip' and 'It Takes Two'. If you have not read these already, then this oneshot may serve to just confuse you. If you haven't read these but you still want to look at this, then go ahead. I'm just warning you.

The character of Katsuo is owned by Whitewolfffy (me) and only her. He is mine! The plotline in this oneshot is mine, too.

Whitewolfffy (me) does not own the other characters of Inuyasha, or even anything in it. It is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi's genius. (Savy?)

As for everything else, I shall meet you lovely readers at the bottom :3

Whitewolfffy~

Catch and Release

Silver cascaded in starry droplets, thousands flying through the dark to splatter against skin. They embedded themselves into clothing, sinking until they met resistance. The girl let out a small sigh, lifting a hand to brush away her damp hair. It clung to her face in wet tendrils, each dark with saturation. Though the night wasn't by any means cold, the wind still brought a chill to her body.

Yuka shivered, pulling her soaked jacket closer to her chest. It was as though each droplet were made of icy lead, breaking through her nerves and sending single shivers down her spine. She sucked in deep breaths of the muggy air, breaking her brisk pace momentarily to huddle under a tree.

The leaves provided minimal shelter, liquid dripping through them like a leaky faucet. A cheery tune broke through the rain, tinkling from inside of her messenger bag. She was careful, ringing out her hands quickly and then pulling open the bag to fish inside for the small cell phone. The cell bleeped out the notes, each growing louder as she found their location.

With a flick of the wrist, the phone clicked open, and the girl pressed it to her ear in a swift motion. A voice echoed from the other line, faint in contrast to the pounding rain, though still identifiable.

"Hey, Mom, did you get out of the airport alright?"

Buzzing came in reply, her mother's voice following. Lightening flickered overhead, and it seemed that the reception was growing poor. Yuka frowned.

"…Will you still be able to pick me up from the bus stop?"

"I'm not sure, honey. The traffic – …might be forced to get a room at a hotel – …voice is breaking up. Call one of your friends – …"

Yuka sighed, her phone snapping shut as she clamped her hand around it. A droplet landed on her face, slipping down her cheek silently. It left a cold and wet trail in its wake, much similar to the feelings inside of her. It wasn't as though these things hadn't happened before, though each time it seemed more difficult.

Yuka's mother had always been the patient type, and a long marriage had caused her to be more than understanding of her daughter's bold and commanding nature. The same nature that she had inherited from her deceased father.

If one was being perfectly honest, though, her only parent was never home often. Yuka's mother had started her own business in designing clothes over a year before, and the business had taken flight almost immediately. She had come down for a weekly visit. An empty house almost always ensued.

Puddles glinted at her from under the streetlights, their surfaces rippling from the impact of rain. Yuka closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips. She opened the phone again, holding down the speed dial.

Eri answered almost immediately.

"Hey!"

"I have a favor to ask."

The voice on the other line paused, "Does it include night clubs again…?"

"No, not this time. My mom is stuck at the airport, and I'm pretty sure she isn't going to make it through the traffic, let alone the upcoming storm. Can I crash at your place?"

Eri was silent for a moment, faint sounds of chattering in the background.

"I really wouldn't mind, Yuka…but, I kind of have some people over here already. My two cousins came down to visit us yesterday, and I really can't spare any room…"

"Okay. Thanks anyway."

Ending a phone call that quickly was probably rude – hell, she knew it was – but, it wasn't as though she could blurt out the real reason she wanted to stay at a friend's house. Admitting her fears was like admitting defeat, and she never surrendered to anything. Honestly, dark houses and rain…was a tender subject. She had grown used to living in an empty house, but being alone during a storm…it was unthinkable. Childish fears died hard.

The second person that came to mind was a familiar and endearing face, though she almost discarded the thought the moment she had it. Kagome was almost always sick, and according to the teacher the day before, she still was. Asking to stay at her house was impossible. On top of that, there was a chance that the 'boyfriend' might be there helping her recover.

That left only one person.

Yuka paused, her fingers hovering over the buttons. If she asked to stay the night, and found out that he was there, then how on earth was she going to politely cancel? It wasn't so much that she hated Katsuo, but that she hated herself for not hating him. Everything about him was the types of things that usually grated under her skin, rubbed her nerves in all the wrong ways, and made her want to strangle someone. So, considering this, how was it possible that she wasn't repulsed at the thought of him? How was it, that even thinking about him, she could feel heat flooding into her face?

Yuka glared briefly at the small cell phone, debating whether braving the house would be a better idea. After a moment, she chose the latter, pressing down on the button hard enough to hear the clicking noise over the rain.

Ayumi answered after the third ring, her voice gentle and faint. The reception cackled a bit, causing Yuka to press the phone more tightly against her ear.

"Hey, Ayumi! I need to ask you something."

"Yuka, are you alright? You sound like you're outside…"

"Oh, I'm fine! Do you remember me telling you that my mom was down to visit for a day or two?"

"Yes, that's wonderful! How is she?"

Yuka swallowed, "She's stuck at the airport, actually. I'd be spending the night alone at the house…but–"

"You'll be all alone? That's horrible! I just cleaned my room this morning, so why don't you grab a bag and just come over here?"

Relief washed over her, flowing through her thoughts. Yuka smiled brightly, inwardly noting to thank the girl in some way special later. She paused for a moment, her hopes edging.

"Are you alone at your house, Ayumi?"

"No. My mother is in her bed with a headache, and my dad is working late tonight. I'm not home yet, though. I just left to go to the Pharmacy for my mom. I have to get her prescriptions, but you can go ahead and let yourself into the house. I haven't seen Kat since noon…" Ayumi's voice drifted off, static catching at it.

The news was overwhelmingly good. If Katsuo was gone, then there were no worries.

"Thanks, Ayumi! I'll be over in a bit."

The reception buzzed briefly before Yuka closed the phone, stuffing it in her messenger bag. She grinned, closing it in place before pulling her jacket closer against her body. With light steps, she propelled into the night and towards the nearest subway station.

The crowd in the train car was overwhelming, people pushing and shoving each other to get more comfortable. Comfort was a distant thought, though, compared to the drenched heat that radiated around the crowd.

Yuka could practically feel the damp clothes on the old man beside her, his arm pressed against her back as she struggled to keep from being crushed. Yuka curled her fingers around the pole in front of her, squeezing it tightly as a large man shoved past her. It was cold, an echoing touch to her surroundings.

The moment the train car stopped, she slipped through the people and dashed for the doors. After sucking in full breaths of the fresh air, it proved easier to continue. Living in an over-populated city like Tokyo had pros and cons – the latter out-weighing most everything – but, it was especially unbearable on said nights. Nights that were lit by a flashing in the sky, rain pounding down hard on the roof while thunder crashed in the distance.

The streets were impossible, some filled with traffic while others were nearly void of life. Yuka stayed on the sidewalks, gritting her teeth as she followed the map in her mind that would lead her to her friend's house. This was a path she had memorized for years, and yet, with the weather roaring around her, curling at her body like fog, it might as well have been a strange trail in the woods.

It was nearly half an hour before she spotted it, the porch light gleaming through the dark like a beacon. Yuka ran for the steps, pausing on the porch to hurriedly push wet hair out of her face. Her hands were trembling with cold as she pressed the doorbell, the rain glancing off the roof above her as though she were surrounded by a protective bubble.

When no answer came, she pressed it again. She was met with silence, and out of pure bold irritation, she brought down her fist repeatedly on the button. It was only after she had finished that she remembered that Ayumi told her to let herself in.

"I said I was coming!" A male voice hollered from the other side, the door flying open.

Bright blue eyes settled on her, glinting with aggravation and barely-contained amusement. A towel was thrown over one shoulder, blond hair messy and damp. Incidentally, Katsuo hadn't bothered to put on a shirt.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his muscles relaxing as recognition lit his gaze. Katsuo leaned against the door, the same mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

"Well, I don't recall ordering any take-out. But, you sure look good enough to eat."

Yuka swallowed, eyes narrowing at the boy.

"Do you always answer the door like that? You sound extremely lame."

"Only if there is a pretty girl waiting with the food. It seems I've stumbled upon a package deal."

She rolled her eyes at that, shoving past him indignantly. The door closed quietly, the lock sliding home. Katsuo grinned.

"I didn't bring any food. It looks like you'll just have to find a different package."

Katsuo shrugged, "Well, hopefully the next one will come with better wrapping. You look positively soaked."

Yuka ignored him, her eyes darting around the living room.

"Is Ayumi back yet?"

"She called a little while ago, saying she'd be home soon. Don't go near the stairs, though. I had to practically throw on some clothes and run. The stairs are wet."

"Why are they wet?"

Katsuo's expression was incredulous, running a hand through his wet hair.

"Isn't it obvious? I took a shower. It looks like you need one, too. Actually, I don't like taking more than one usually, but I suppose I could make an exception for you just this once…"

Yuka scoffed, walking in the direction of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, but I make it a habit to avoid bathing with dogs."

He didn't follow, but soft laughter trailed in her wake. Just as Katsuo had said, cold water dripped off of the stairs, pooling on the plush carpet at the bottom. Yuka rolled her eyes. Poor Ayumi would end up having to clean the mess, another stress that she didn't need.

Yuka dropped her messenger bag by the door, pausing in front of the hallway mirror to judge her reflection. Her dark brown hair was messy, wet and sticky against her skin. She ruffled it gently, dark blue eyes bright with an ever-present glint, causing her to always look like she had mischievous intentions. Almost as an after-thought, she noted to ask Ayumi if she could borrow some of the girl's clothes to sleep in. She definitely would need to take a shower, but waiting until Ayumi arrived was probably the smartest choice.

She found the kitchen, fished in the corner closet for a mop and rags, and went for the stairs. The mop didn't work very well, but that was at least what she had expected. It absorbed the quantity of a few steps, and then it ended up as a wet glob. Luckily, the rags worked better.

Yuka draped them in a neat heap, pressing her weight down on them until she felt them grow damp under her fingers. The least she could do was occupy her time until Ayumi returned, and making one less job for the girl was the best thing to do. When she was done, a wet mass of cloth sat at the bottom of the stairs. Yuka gathered it in her arms, walking to the laundry room.

She dumped the contents in the washer, bending down to peel off her pants. She had shorts underneath, and though they were also wet, they still covered her while her pants were washing.

After ten minutes of flipping through channels, she had reached a limit of boredom. Nothing was on the TV, and the reception was horrible anyway. Static filled the screen like an army of black and white ants, attacking relentlessly.

Katsuo had disappeared shortly after she arrived, and she had a haunting feeling that he was doing it on purpose. Everyone knew she was the curious type, insufferable and determined in her nature. She grew bored easily, and leaving her alone surely followed by her going in search of said missing person.

The television went silent with the click of a button, and Yuka headed up the stairs. Light flowed into the hallway from under a door, and the sounds of soft music drifted from the room. Yuka held her breath, pausing to listen.

Notes flitted in an intricate harmony, looping in an endless cord of beauty. Each key was more delicate and timeless than the last, played with such a careful precision that it was as though it had been composed over decades. The music summoned an emotion in Yuka, and it sounded almost as though an emotion were being played.

The door opened with a gentle brush against the carpet, light flooding over her. Yuka blinked against it, her eyes settling on a Boom box. A faint red light winked from the side, showing that it was in the middle of playing a song.

A boy leaned against the wall on the other side of the room, sitting up-right on his bed. His back was against the wall, head tilted up and eyes closed. With one glance, Yuka could have easily judged him as a sculpture, perfect and unmoving. Though, movement from his fingers demolished the thought. They flew restlessly at his sides, lacing the notes on an invisible piano.

Yuka was torn between leaving the room, though the music was captivating. Her foot paused uncertainly in the doorway, eyes careful. A gentle creak echoed through the room, slicing through the perfect tune. Blue eyes flew open, his hands going still.

"Is there something you need?" Katsuo asked, abnormally quiet.

Yuka swallowed, "No, not really. I was just coming up here to…"

It was then that she realized that she had no real excuse for her presence. Admitting to her inexhaustible curiosity would only invite his teasing.

"Anyway, I heard the music and wanted to see where it came from. It's…very beautiful."

Great, so I admit to my curiosity from a different angle. Smooth. She scoffed mentally.

Katsuo was silent, his blue eyes deep. He was very still – tense, she noted. Silence blanketed the atmosphere for a minute, his gaze unyielding. It was only after a moment, exhaustion clouding their blue surface, that he averted his eyes and initiated movement. He lifted his hands off the sheets, letting them fall in his lap.

"May I come in?" She murmured.

He didn't meet her eyes, instead nodding. A hush appeared to have fallen over him, and his gaze seemed distant. It was as though he were in a different world, a different time. It wasn't like the teasing and charming boy that she had grown fond of.

Yuka closed the door gently behind her, crossing the room quietly. He didn't say anything, so she lifted herself onto the king-size bed, crawling up to the headboard. It was comfortable, propping her back against the cool surface. The sheets were soft, smooth warmth under her fingertips.

"So, you like classical music?" She ventured.

Katsuo nodded slowly, and in her peripheral vision, she could have sworn she saw his fingers twitch.

"I like this CD," Yuka continued, deciding to ignore his silent lapse, "It's very soothing. It reminds me of my childhood; my mother signed me up for piano lessons."

"Were you any good at it?"

She shook her head thoughtfully, a slow smile pulling on her lips, "No, not really. I gave it up after a little while."

Katsuo didn't respond right away. In fact, his silence stretched on for a full minute before he spoke.

"I made this."

Yuka turned, eyes lit with surprise and curiosity, "I didn't know that you played piano."

Another odd quiet drifted through the air, and it was at least another two minutes before he responded.

"I started when I was five," He spoke softly, "Father said that Mother loved the piano."

Yuka swallowed, the reality of the situation dawning on her. His shadowed and absent gaze, the privacy of music, and the gently uttered words. He must have been buried in his own memories, and whatever he was listening to had conjured the tenderest topic.

"I bet you're just like her."

Katsuo seemed to wake somewhat, his eyes reviving from their dim stupor.

"Why would you think that?"

Yuka paused, "What do you think about your mother, when she comes to mind?"

Pain flitted across his features, and Katsuo's eyes darted away. He swallowed, and Yuka watched as emotions battled in his eyes.

"She…she was all I ever wanted. And I took her away."

A last note drifted through the air in a clear note, and there was a pause as the next song began. The chords fell across each other in a wave, lapping at the already intense emotion that was mirrored in the tension of Katsuo's body.

Yuka stared at him, struggling to hide her astonishment.

"It wasn't your fault." She whispered, angered at how weak the words sounded even to her own ears. How had the once joking atmosphere change so drastically?

"I've already fought my own demons, Yuka. I know that wallowing in self-loathing is a ridiculous way to spend time, but that doesn't change anything. My existence…it puts her death to shame. She sacrificed her life to give birth to me, to someone that is sick and a disgrace to the family name. She fought to bring me into the world, when my father wanted to throw me out. Where is the significance in that? Where do I bring significance into the world?"

A flutter of emotion swelled inside of her chest, the comprehension nerve-wracking. The words drifted from her lips before she could control them.

"To Ayumi…to Eri and Kagome. To so many people, you bring light into their lives. You don't realize the imprint you leave behind on the people you are around."

"I highly doubt that. I don't wish for you to be a goodie bag at my pity-party, anyway."

Yuka stared at him silently, her thoughts wandering. It suddenly occurred to her just how much he had changed. The playful and alluring boy from downstairs had disappeared entirely. In fact, with the way he was speaking so openly, she had a hinting feeling that he had inwardly been begging for someone to talk to.

"I don't see how you could ever think that. The trip we took, following the Black Blossoms, you definitely made friends. Ayumi simply adores you, and Eri couldn't stop laughing at your jokes. Even Kagome and her boyfriend like you! You were amazing with making a disguise for Inuyasha when we went to the concert. No one could have pulled that off but you. And for your information, I've never been a goodie bag at anyone's party! I'm the life of the party."

An old flicker of amusement glinted in his eyes, the same endearing trait that seemed to mount in him when he was in her presence.

"Yes, that is true," He paused, "And I guess you're right to a degree about the said list of facts. I am one of a kind."

Yuka rolled her eyes, elbowing him playfully. The two smiled, an old trace of companionship surfacing temporarily. It was moments like these, moments that poured light into the shadowed tension of Katsuo's past. Being with Yuka, it made it almost impossible to linger on dark subjects for too long. She carried sunshine wherever she went.

"Unfortunately," He sighed, "I don't believe the current stroking of my ego is sufficient. You mentioned Ayumi, Eri, and Kagome. But…you failed to include yourself. Does that mean that I truly am your sworn enemy?"

Yuka scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous. You've left your mark in my life, too. After all, no one knows how to be as irritating as you – besides me, of course."

Katsuo chanced a sidelong glance, his eyes softening with thought.

"I'm serious, Yuka."

His voice echoed inside of her somehow, pulling on a chord that she hadn't realized he had the ability to reach. It appeared that he not only played the piano with skill, but her heartstrings were also in jeopardy in his company. It was a rare occasion when Katsuo was serious, and there was a time where she could have sworn that the word didn't exist in his personal vocabulary. Apparently, she had only tapped the surface of a complex web of false facades.

"Tell me a secret," He whispered, "And I'll tell you one, too."

"A secret?" She echoed.

Katsuo nodded, his blond hair mused and damp.

"I once heard that secrets were the light of a soul, and the eyes were the windows. Secrets allow you to see through one's eyes, and once the windows are opened, the light pours in."

Yuka captured her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it.

"You have to promise to tell me one, too – a really embarrassing one."

"I swear, it will be humbling," He reached out then, hooking his pinky finger around her own, "I pinky-swear."

She could already feel his eyes boring into her, causing gooseflesh to rise on her arms.

"You're smiles are contagious, your lecherous antics sometimes horribly endearing, and the way you drum your fingers on a table when you're nervous – it's all there. Sometimes, when you don't think anyone is looking, sadness surfaces in your eyes. You tap your foot to invisible rhythms, and when you're thinking, you chew on your bottom lip."

Yuka breathed deeply, a blush staining her cheeks.

"I can't stand being around you, but I don't think I could stand being without you." She whispered.

Blue eyes fixed on her, lips parted in silent surprise. The piano continued in the background, notes slow and enchanting. Katsuo lifted a hand, catching a finger under her chin. With a gentle urge she met his eyes, embarrassment flushed through her. There was a pause, and Yuka caught her breath as his face tilted toward her.

He smelled of peppermint, a comforting and intoxicating scent. Yuka realized absently that his hand was cold, the light in the room causing her to notice light green specks in his eyes. She felt her heart thrum unevenly, his lips brushing the tip of her nose.

"My secret is that…I am broken, Yuka. But whatever is left of me, it is yours."

A gasp escaped her, his lips carefully grazing over hers. It was then she felt his other hand in her hair, running through the dark locks.

And it was at that moment that the phone rang.

Yuka jumped, causing Katsuo to yelp in pain. Her forehead connected with his in a painful collision, both letting-out exclamations and complaints. Katsuo reached-out for the bedside table with his free hand, the other cradling his head. When he lifted the phone to his ear, he winced.

"Hello?"

His voice was hoarse, causing her heart to beat erratically. He glowered at the air in front of him, and Yuka resisted the urge to crawl under the bed and rub the blush from her cheeks. She felt as though a large sign were over her head, declaring to the world that Katsuo had been nearly about to kiss her, and that she had almost let him.

When Katsuo set the phone down, a scowl was set on his handsome features.

"Ayumi is turning around the block. She wanted to let us know so that we'd unlock the door for her. She doesn't want to wake…her mom."

Yuka couldn't help but turn to look at him. She realized with a dull ache that he didn't refer to Ayumi's mother as his own. It made sense, and she could closely relate. If her mother were to remarry, she wouldn't want to give the title freely to the next man. It was an endearment reserved only for her first father. For her real father.

And just as suddenly, a smile played on Katsuo's lips. It was as though the passive boy from before had never existed, retreating into the far corners of his dark conscious, reserved to torture him in the latest hours.

"I told you that it would be humbling."

Light snores drifted through the night air, the source deeply asleep in her bed. Yuka peeked at her face cautiously, chancing movement. She slipped out of the bed carefully, avoiding jostling the mattress as much as possible.

Silence enveloped the hallways, a slight chill in the air. Yuka reached-out hesitantly, her fingertips grazing the wall as she tip-toed toward another door. It opened with a gentle push, and she was quiet enough to close it behind her with just as much care.

Yuka stopped at the edge of the bed, moonlight pouring in through an open window. It fell across his head, causing messy blond hair to look pearly. She was surely not supposed to be awake at such an hour, let alone sneaking into other people's rooms. Let alone sneaking into his room. One only knew how stupid it was of her to be acting like this.

"Katsuo?" She murmured, her eyes fixed on the still form.

He didn't move, eyelashes brushing his cheekbones. Yuka shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, debating whether to jump on the bed or not. Seeing his reaction sounded tempting.

"What are you doing in here at this time of night?"

His voice was a smooth and deep, causing her pulse to quicken at the sound. Yuka averted her gaze from the coverlet to his face, dimly lit from the moonlight.

"Have you finally accepted my invitation?" There was a seductive hue in his voice, and Yuka resisted the urge to yell and storm away. She was sorely glad it was dark, lest he see the blush that stained her cheeks.

"You wish, lecher. Actually, I…couldn't sleep. I was wondering if you would let me sleep in here, with you."

Katsuo let out a soft groan, the blankets shifting. It was then that the coverlet folded back on itself, revealing a bare chest. She didn't let her thoughts linger on that for too long, else it haunt her for many nights to come.

"Just to sleep." She mumbled, crawling into the open space.

Katsuo chuckled, low and soft.

"Yes, just to sleep. May I be damned for attempting to take advantage of you, Yuka. Someday, perhaps, but not tonight."

The breeze from the window was faint, ruffling her now-dry hair. She could feel Katsuo's chest rise and fall, her back nestled against him. He was warm, wonderfully so. It was this warmth, this fragile boy that she could feel her heart aching for. The urge to turn and face him, to wrap her arms around him and pull him close, was overwhelming. She wanted to bury her face in his shoulder, to nestle her fingers in his soft hair. If only her pride would have permitted her to do so, she probably would have relented.

She compromised, allowing his arms to snake around her waist and hold her against him. It was oddly comforting, this incredible warmth. It seemed to swell inside of her, branching throughout her body until it lingered where his arms rested.

"If you stop acting like such an idiot, you might get somewhere." She whispered, the words drifting through the cool night air.

He chuckled then, the vibration sending her heart racing.

"I'll keep that in mind for future reference."

Yay! I've never written honest-to-God fluff for anybody besides Inuyasha and Kagome, but that was actually enjoyable. ^.^ I feel as though Yuka is slowly changing as I write for her, Katsuo transforming her as much as she is effecting him. Isn't that was love is supposed to be like, though? No one can walk away from a serious relationship unmarked (even though their 'relationship' is by no means official). I personally thought the ending dialogue was pretty neat. ;)

Anyway, I just felt an overwhelming urge to write a lil' bit of something for this adorable pairing. I know that you're all probably a little frustrated by the slow updates, so I figured this might pacify any screaming inner-fangirls. 'It Takes Two' is probably stressing all of you out, so here is something sweet and fluffy! *dabs at eyes with a tissue*

Yet again, much cupcake love to everybody who has been following me for all of these long and agonizing months (holy cow, it's almost been a whole year since I started writing 'Roadtrip!'). All of you deserve free trips to Japan and loads of Pocky. I'll be in touch. :3 Ja ne~

Whitewolfffy~