Compassion. A noun used to describe someone who can feel empathy for another living mass of cells. Everyone has some level of compassion, a comradery of emotions towards another fucked up and lost soul, a shared ache for what they are experiencing.
Everyone can be compassionate, right?
Inuyasha Takahashi, according to the tub-of-lard sitting all high and mighty upon the sleek, oak judiciary bench, lacked this basic human quality.
Inuyasha himself found this sentiment absolutely fucking amusing. Human quality? The irony wasn't over his head, which in case it wasn't obvious to anyone with half-decent eyesight, was topped with two snowy peaks that twitched with every tap, tap, tap of the stenographer's keys. He was far from being human, at least half as far.
Based on his mixed heritage alone, he liked to consider himself at least rudimentarily compassionate. He had lived his entire life, all 150 years of it, regardless of his juvenile appearance, seeing and breathing in how compassionate humanity, or demonry, can be. He has witnessed it, first hand, using his small triangle sonars to pick up the whispered insults that floated around his human mother and himself as a young pup, like walking through thick, invisible miasma.
Inuyasha of course had been young at the time, but understood the implications all the same. Regardless of the mighty reputation of his daiyoukai father's blood coursing through his veins, and his mated mother's, he was still considered beneath even the lowliest human. All because his parents loved each other.
Brought back to the present, as the thick man dressed in judge's robes continued to blather on and on about respect, learning his lesson the hard way, blah blah blah, Inuyasha glanced sideways at the stoic, statue-esque businessman standing next to him. His father had refused to have his youngest, and most unruly son, represented by anyone than himself.
After all, who else would get Inuyasha out of this mess? Definitely not Inuyasha himself. He struggled enough to not dig his hole deeper and deeper until eventually, he found himself not just in jail, but chained inside of the smoldering, echoing ditch dug by his big, fat mouth.
That was the culprit of this all. Inuyasha had always been short tempered, quick to jump the gun and have fists pulled to defense before a situation could even be assessed completely. Hindsight is always 20/20, right? Inuyasha figured, if and when he ever did kick that proverbial shit-bucket of life, that would be the tagline of his headstone. A single phrase that summed up every action ever made in his life.
His attention was quickly brought back as Inuyasha's father returned to his son's side at the solid wood table, where he sat in a slightly wrinkled but decently clean button-up shirt and slacks, forced on him by his ever worrying mother. 'Presentation, presentation, presentation', she had kept repeating, as her many hands (she only had two, right?) continued to smooth down Inuyasha's steel dipped hair and straighted out the wrinkle in his sleeve. He hadn't even noticed his father's departure to speak privately with the judge at the bench, and he waited with little patients to hear his outcome.
Hopefully not much more than community service. He wouldn't mind to actually have an excused to get out of the house, away from his brother, whose was most likely entirely made of marble for as much emotion as he had ever shown, and his overbearing and meaning-well mother. Maybe just picking up some trash a few days a week, sitting with old geezers in a nursing home playing cards…
"….mandatory 600 hours volunteering at the Animal Rescue of Tokyo. All paperwork must be signed each and every day by Kagome Higurashi, and hours turned in every week on Friday sharp. A case manager will be assigned to watch and record any progress or digress on your behavior, Mr. Takahashi. Your representation will be in charge of selecting a manager." With that, the judge slammed down his gavel of lower level justice, and waddled, literally waddled, out of his chair and through a door into what was probably his chambers.
Inuyasha barely, justbarely, held in his groan of unsatisfaction. An animal rescue? Was this judge trying to fuck with him? Was this some big joke from the universe, poking fun at the biggest punch line in his life? Of course, his consequence would be to work with dogs, considering he was part dog himself although much more civilized.
Feeling the vice-grip on his arm, Inuyasha stood quickly and followed his silent father out of the court room and passed other guilty parties awaiting their verdicts on the benches outside. His father moved methodically, other occupants of the rather large court house seeming to part like the sea for the dominating presence of the dai-youkai. Inuyasha followed behind diligently, having learned long ago to ride the wave and follow the path created by his father, rather than risk being separated and making his father wait. Although he did receive many of his abilities, such as strength and speed, from his father, he did not receive the natural presence that demanded absolutely respect and submission that his father commanded. Mr. Takahashi was a force all his own, unmatched even by Inuyasha's almost equally as powerful brother, Sesshomaru.
Once out on the street, Mr. Takahashi turned to face his youngest son, his exasperation evident by the hardness in his eyes. He cleared his throat, checked his watch, and then held his son's gaze for a moment before beginning, "Inuyasha, this is your final chance to not destroy your life by getting something permanently to blot our family's name. I had to pull strings and call in favors to lower the sentence on this to just community service. Do not mess this up."
"I get it." Inuyasha was quick in his response, and hardness taking over his own features like a sudden wave. Mr. Takahashi nodded once, glancing to his right as a sleek, black town car pulled up. His father dropped words of dinner and seeing him tonight at Inuyasha's feet, but they fell to deaf ears. Inuyasha was already making his way down the street, intent on going to get a nice, large drink at the one and only bar he ever went to in Tokyo.
He understood he messed up, he really did. Honestly, the whole situation was possibly ranked as one of his biggest fuck ups, which was really impressive if you really knew the half-demon. He had quite the…talent for getting himself into sticky and downright unbelievable situations, usually accompanied by his bad decisions and reactions.
It honestly all started with that girl. That beautiful, enraging, manipulative girl. He had met her at this very bar that he was walking into, the sense-dulling vapor of cigarette smoke clung to every surface of the old bar. The lights were dim, the patrons spread out between the bar and some tables. It was a frequently visited place not just for the half-demon, but other regulars. There was a lingering charm to this place, it wasn't run down or sleazy in the least, but it also wasn't extremely hip or filled with loud, overly-bassed music. It was a bar down to the essentials, with its full drink menu, pool tables, and cigarette ash-trays everywhere.
Inuyasha sat at his usually stool, setting his elbows on the bar and pulling out a box of cigarettes from his pocket. A day spent in the courtroom, and being hassled by his parents damn well made him deserve a drink and a smoke. How else can you deal with stress these days, legally at least? Stealing a glance towards to regular bartender, who knew his drink order as sure as the sun would rise the next day, his thoughts drifted back to the night-haired beauty that had been sitting alone just three months back.
She had pulled him in like a fly. It was the perfect symbolism in his mind, her as the seductive black widow, lithe and mysterious. Her eyes were dark, smoldering, and Inuyasha knew from that moment he was a gonner. Every day for the last two weeks, he had wished that Miroku had successfully talked him into going somewhere else that night, anywhere else. Maybe this entire situation would have been avoided.
Her name was Kikyo, and she played him for the fool he apparently was when it came to beautiful women. She took him in to her life, showed him what he had always thought love would be, and tricked his mind into doing whatever she requested. If she said to jump, he would go above and beyond by throwing a backflip in there. After only about a month and a half of knowing each other, she had weaseled her way into his life like a parasite, infecting each aspect of who he was with her sickly-sweet poison.
It only took a very hard look at what he had become for Inuyasha to find the strength, swallowing the bitter pill of acceptance hat flushed his system of this woman.
Inuyasha grasped the cool glass as it was placed in front of him, swigging the dark, stinging liquid in one gulp. He would finish his drink, smoke a few cigarettes, and then head home for a long night of self-medicated sleep.
Slipping his cellphone out of the pocket of his slacks, Inuyasha quickly opened the messaging app. Hitting the name at the top, he pulled up the thread for his longest friend, and most likely candidate for his case manager, Miroku.
Now, Miroku was Inuyasha best friend (okay, so really his only friend), but there was no denying the less-than-redeeming qualities of the decedent of Buddhist monks. For a charming as the dark-haired human was, he was equally or more so lecherous and deceiving. He used his charm and good looks to achieve whatever his goal may be, whether it was personal or professional. Inuyasha really couldn't blame him for using his talents, either. It had gotten the half-demon out of trouble on multiple occasions.
'Yo, out of court. At OR.' He quickly typed out, his clawing making an insignificant clack against the glass screen. 'OR' was a nickname they began using after visiting this bar for Miroku's 21st birthday. Old Reliable was the best name for this place, it was exactly what you need, when you needed it. Nothing more, nothing less. It was only a moment after that the device vibrated in his hand.
'Verdict?' Was the simple reply. Inuyasha again groaned inwardly, instantly reminded of his "sentence". Honestly, it wasn't detrimental compared to what he could have done. It was just inconvenient and slightly offensive in his opinion. Miroku would surely find humor in the situation at his best friend's expense.
'600 hours community service. Animal rescue.' He messaged back, gritting his teeth in anticipation. It took only a moment more before a message blurb popped up that cause Inuyasha to growl under his breath.
'Guess they're going to keep you on a short leash there.'
'Maybe you'll find a new best friend.'
'Will they even let you around the cats?'
Inuyasha quickly slammed out a 'fuck you' to his friend before putting his phone to sleep, paying his bill, and walking out of the bar. Walking slowly down the bustling streets of Tokyo, the smells of street food, liquor from nearby bars, and the faintest stench of piss filled his overly sensitive nose. He crinkled it, his feet trying to desperately carry his body, and most importantly his senses, away from the less-than-pleasant smells. Soon, after taking the maze of streets, he appeared at the lobby of the high-rise building his family not only owned, by occupied. Sometimes having a daiyoukai as old as time and as rich as can be came in handy.
Inuyasha grunted noncommittally at the doorman, and pushed the button in the elevator for the very top floor. He lived there with his entirely family, each with their own pent house apartment on the floor. He had a love-hate relationship with his living situation.
Sliding his key into the door, it opened with a welcoming click, and Inuyasha let out a sigh of relief this time to finally be in familiar waters. The kitchen was decked out with top-of-the-line appliances, matte black, his countertops clear and glowing in the dim light overhead. His living room was sparse, a flatscreen TV hanging on the wall, with a long L-Shaped leather couch in across from it. Various exercise equipment, a gym bag, and a lone coffee table filled the remains of the room, with an attaching hallway leading to the guest room with adjoining bathroom, and his personal area.
Inuyasha made his way to the kitchen to grab a beer, and ungracefully plopped himself on the couch. It was comfortable, which is all he really needed in furniture. Unlike his parents or brother, appearance was something he couldn't bring himself to give a shit about.
His laptop was placed precariously on the cushion next to him. It was only a moment of thought before the internet was brought up, and 'Tokyo Animal Rescue' was banged into the search engine. If he was going to spend 600 hours of his life in this place, he may as well get to know it.
It quickly pulled up a variety of links, some in the form of news article praising the rescue for its efforts and achievements. Other links were various social media pages, with each profile picture only depicting the turned backs of two individuals.
One was obviously feminine, based on the hair and physical attributes alone. Slender, with long, wavy raven hair. He couldn't see the face, but could only guess that the mysterious woman must be Kagome Higurashi, the woman who held his near future in her hands. Next to her, also facing away from the camera with arms linked, was a taller male with a thick pony tail of vermillion hair. Just barely, Inuyasha could make out the slight hint of… were those pointed ears?
Inuyasha quickly shut the laptop down, deciding that was enough investigation for the night. The laptop was discarded in its same, lonely spot, while the owner wondered unceremoniously to the back bedroom, his private area. A shower could be heard, along with the top of a beer being popped. Inuyasha figured he had one final weekend left of his freedom for the next six or so months, he may as well be rested for the experience.