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A Vision of Shangri-la
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Summary: It's my job to fulfill your dreams for an hour or two, Inuyasha; I'm just trying to get by. Still, that didn't stop me from falling for you. (Kag-Inu-Kik-Sess, AU)
Disclaimer: Everything Inu-Yasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi; only the plot belongs to me.
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Prologue
"So—what got you into this business?"
I must have started, or betrayed my surprise in some other physical manner; Naraku Onigumo began to sneer.
"What do you mean?" I asked, in a perfectly removed and polite tone.
"Well, Kiki," he said derisively, "you may be pretty, but you're can't hold a candle to Kikyou. So—why are you in the business of hostessing?"
"Isn't that a rude question?"
"True—but I've purchased your hour, and you must entertain me. Don't avoid it."
I sighed, tucking a strand of my straight, dark wig behind my ear. It was a move made out-of-character, and I realized only when I had looked up again from my fruit cocktail that Naraku-san had picked up on it. Seeing no other choice, I told him the truth, albeit a very general one.
"I've a striking resemblance to Kikyou. I decided to use it to my advantage. After all, why else would anyone be in this line of business? Now," I smiled in Kikyou's sweet, detached manner, "shall we continue the charade? It's what you paid me for."
"Pretty little girl, I paid you to entertain me. Unlike some of the other customers of this enterprise, I'm not looking to play out an escapist fantasy. I'm not looking for a copy of a model who's devoid of personality."
I bit my lip to prevent myself from throwing, "Then go to some other hostess bar!" at the rude man before me. Despite this, I knew that those in my profession depended on the satisfaction of their clients. I made an effort to be charming, to play the part.
"Then," I asked, "what other game would you prefer to indulge in?"
His smile twisted his face, which could've been handsome on another man, another personality, into a visage as ugly as an oni mask. "You won't go far in the entertainment business with such a blunt attitude, Kiki. A man wishes to be mysterious and unreadable at all times; you should play into that desire if you want to capture the adulation of many."
"But I don't need to, do I?" I replied cheekily. I was beginning to dislike this Naraku. "Kikyou has already done it. I'm just an imitation."
He leaned forward, strands of his hair falling to shield his face insidiously. "There's no use comparing yourself to a model like her; you're just a hostess, a glorified whore at best."
I smiled back at him. Then I lifted my cocktail and splashed its contents in his face. He sputtered, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm sorry, the hour must be cut short due to illness on the part of the entertainment," I said, not bothering to hide my bitterness. "Please, do come again."
While Naraku Onigumo still wiped his face indignantly, I rose and spun out of the room.
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Author's Note: Frankly, I like both Kagome and Kikyou; I won't bash either, or stand any bashing (especially not of Kikyou, because she's so very close to my heart). For those reading my fic Storm Song, I can't promise updates soon, but they'll come. A Vision of Shangri-la is an idea that came into being one night while I was reading up on Japanese culture instead of writing my English essay; its setting is contemporary—I hope no one is too confused. Its focuses are on Kagome, Inuyasha, Kikyou, and Sesshoumaru, with highlights of supporting characters; final pairings have not been decided yet.
