Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha

Okay, so I know I shouldn't be writing another story with so many unfinished still out there, but I'm almost done with Sk8 4ev3r so I figured I can write this story. Besides, this story is a jumble of oneshots and other stories I wanted to publish, but I found a way to sort of combine them all to satisfy myself. So, here it is, the first chapter of my newest story, Walking Tightropes.

And Hanmajoerin did another kick ass job on editing again!

Walking Tightropes

Chapter 1: Breaking Up

You're up so high, supposed to be balancing on one tiny little string, and if you do fall the net is supposed to catch you. It's like love, but I'm afraid of falling in love; I'm just afraid the net won't be there to catch my fall. It's happened before.

-x-

Before this story unfolds, I would like to point this out: you're not a slut, if you can't commit to a relationship. Honestly, just because I'm not spitting out the words 'I love you' doesn't mean I'm incapable of love or just looking for a one night stand. It simply means I don't settle down. Big deal. I shouldn't be grouped with the school sluts just because I have a lot of boyfriends and don't commit to the relationship. It's not like I'm hiking up my skirt or wearing skin tight clothes or giving guys come hither looks. In fact, my year round 'uniform' is jeans and a t-shirt. And I only go out with guys I know, not jump every guy that walks through the door. I just… don't settle down.

And there are a number of good reasons why someone may choose not to settle down. One, they could be young—the tender age of 17 to be specific—and it's just too early to decide whether or not you want to spend your entire life with someone. Maybe a person has trust issues or their family is screwed up and they want to keep everyone at arms' length. Maybe they're fighting depression and they don't want to drag you down with them. They could have had their heart broken before, been sexually abused, cut themselves, have an STD, an embarrassing secret. Maybe they're in love with a guy who is already dating some girl for three years so you date around to try and fill the void left there but it doesn't work so you never really fall in love. You know, hypothetically, that is.

Anyways, the point of all this is to explain that I'm not a slut. In fact, I've been dating Hojo for six months, so you can take that to the bank!

At least, I was dating Hojo.

-x-

"I love you."

I nearly choked on air due to the sharp intake I had and it took me a while to control my coughing before I was actually able to speak. "What?"

"I love you, Kagome." Hojo repeated, looking at me with shimmering eyes. Shit.

I had been hoping that Hojo was just making a joke and he would just smile and punch me in my shoulder and we could continue on our way to the Ferris wheel. Of course, Hojo decided to remain dead serious.

"I love you, Kagome." He said again, as if I didn't hear it the first two times. Before I could even react, he grabbed my hands and cradled them in his own. "I've loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you in sixth grade, and when you finally agreed to go out with me… God, I felt like the luckiest man on earth. And now we've been dating for six months and I think its okay for me to just tell you… I love you." Gah! Would he stop saying it? "I love you… so, so much."

God, damn it all to hell! Of course he had to say it. Of course! Yes, you three little words from the devil, come and rain on my fucking parade! Ruin the one thing I thought was finally working for me by making it a serious relationship. Love, you lousy sonuvabitch! Curse me with your unwanted presence! Curse me!

"Kagome?" Hojo asked, squeezing my hands a tad bit and giving me a worried look. I guess I was quiet for too long. "So what do you say?"

"To what?"

"To…" His brows furrowed together. "I, um… I just told you I loved you. Do… do you have anything you might want to say to me?"

Oh. He was expecting me to repeat the words.

"Well, Hojo, that is really, really sweet, but… I, uh… I don't love you?" I offered, testing his reaction to the words. He looked confused.

He laughed a bit, not believing it. "What?"

"I, err… I don't love you." I looked in his eyes, seeing if he understood what I was saying. "You may love me but the feeling isn't… mutual. Do you understand?"

Over my years of dating I have realized that there is no such thing as a "good" break-up, especially in my case. There is also no way to cushion the break-up blow either. All those sayings, "It's not you, it's me", "You're a great guy, but…", and "We can still be friends"—especially that one—never work. It's best to just lay down the facts and get it over with. Beating around the bush only makes it worse.

"How… how can you not love me?"

Do I really have to explain?

"Well, I just—"

"Of course you love me," Hojo cut me off, laughing as if I were joking around. "You have to love me. What else have we been doing all this time?"

"Having fun?" That was my plan at least.

Please note the fact that we are at the amusement park for our date. And all dates prior to this one have been to bowling alleys and skating rinks; you know, easy going fun places. There were no fancy dinners or overly romantic gestures where Hojo could propose something like a promise ring—been there, done that.

"Having fun…" Hojo repeated in disbelief. "But… but—"

"Look, Hojo, you're a really nice and sweet and… and…" I was already running out of complimentary words. "I just thought…" I squeezed the large monkey that Hojo won for me at one of the booths earlier close to my chest, hoping it would give me strength to continue. "I thought we had more of a… friends with benefits kind of relationship."

That was a lie. I actually really liked Hojo, but I knew it wasn't going to progress into love because… Well, just because. I'm telling Hojo we were only friends with benefits though so he won't waste his time on me, thinking I would ever feel the same. You see, it's one of those lies that are supposed to help.

Hojo didn't see it my way, of course. In fact he looked… pissed.

"Well, I guess we had a misunderstanding on that part," Hojo sneered, no longer the sweet and adorable guy I was dating for half a year, and I pulled my monkey closer to me. "God Kagome, I've heard things about you, but…" He shook his head. "Looks like all those guys were right; you're a slut."

My eyes widened before narrowing quickly. To think I was trying to be nice about this break-up and he has calls me a slut. Jerk.

"Hey! Just because I don't love you, doesn't make me a slut!" I felt eyes on me and people stopped to watch. I hate public break-ups.

"You knew our relationship wasn't going anywhere but you kept me around to… to…" Hojo struggled for the right words. "To… satisfy your sex addiction!"

My jaw hit the ground. That asshole!

"You asshole!" I shouted, jabbing a finger in his direction and he just glared at it. "One, I only slept with you once; and two, you're the one with the sex addiction, always pressuring me into your bed!"

"I didn't—"

"You did!" I shouted, clutching the monkey closer to my chest, feeling the stinging behind my eyes.

"Kagome—"

"Just stop," I cut Hojo off, the thick ball in my throat tightening, meaning I only had thirty seconds before I begin bursting into tears. "Bottom line: we're over." I turned on my heel and began pushing my way through a crowd of people who didn't realize how rude it was to blatantly stare at personal situations.

"Kagome, wait!"

But I kept walking trudging through the park. If I turned around Hojo would actually see me crying and that's not how things work in Kagome's world.

-x-

I'm not crushed or bent out of shape about the break-up—I really don't love Hojo—but all break-ups suck no matter what the conditions are. And Hojo was fun to be around when he wasn't hovering over my shoulder or whining about something, so breaking up with him sucked. Now I have to go back to school Monday and not have a boyfriend. Not having a boyfriend isn't the problem, but the rumors of how we broke up, the whispering behind my back, the fake looks of pity? Yeah, that's the problem. And Hojo is probably telling all his friends that I'm a slut with a sex addiction…that sucks too.

I flopped down on my bed, laptop in hand and already dressed in sweats and a tank top, standard post break-up clothing. I had a bowl of cut up pineapples on my nightstand as my comfort food because I realized that just looking at ice cream adds five pounds to my hips, so I've been substituting sweets with healthy snacks. It doesn't really work and I find myself doing crunches in the middle of the night, trying to burn off the three donuts I inhaled earlier that day.

I opened up the internet and logged in to my email. I'm the editor of our school newspaper, Shikon Times—I know, so original—and I always get a bunch of emails about… everything, really. But, when I'm down on myself, I like to read a bunch of letters to the editor because some are really interesting. Then I need to choose a few to feature in the next issue for newspaper, which is the end of this week on Friday. Newspaper gets published every two weeks.

My inbox finally pops up and, what do you know? It's packed. I open the first email titled, Letter to the Editor, and begin to read. This one is complaining about the lunch food and, even though we did a behind the scenes feature of cafeteria food a month ago, I read it because it's funny and laughing seems to banish all my problems.

To be honest, working on the newspaper is not one of my favorite things in the world. It's all factual, dull, and missing that essential thing called life. Newspaper articles can't be biased or use some of the pizzazz that is present in the letters I get. The only pieces that use the ranting that makes me laugh in most letters are the gossip and advice columns. There are some really good features that I get really excited about, but that's once in a blue moon. Most of the times, I'm disappointed by the overall dullness of the newspaper.

In honesty, I'm a creative writer and my high school goal was to become the editor of the literary magazine, but, after my freshman year, the magazine lost its funding and my goals crumbled. So, being unable to imagine going through high school without any form of writing—and needing some school participation for college applications in the future—I changed my focus to factual writing and joined the newspaper staff. Being unable to be told what I could and couldn't write—and hoping to breathe some life into the paper—I fought to show I deserve to be editor and here I am, Senior year, "top dog" of the Shikon Times. I still get restrictions for Ms. Kido, our supervisor, but I really like being editor. Sure, I have to read a lot of dull pieces—not the writer's fault, but the general dull essence of the newspaper—but I can try spicing them up a bit to the best of my ability. Writing articles may not be my forte, but I'm damn good at breathing life into the paper.

Anyways, when I'm in a bad mood I read some of these letters because… because it proves to me that not everyone in my school is lifeless automatons. The students have opinions; they don't just follow the crowd of popular people (who parade around school like they're royalty), judging by their clothes and cars, and that they're pretty damn rich. It makes me feel better about my school to know that not everyone there is a follower.

I read a few more letters and decide that the letter questioning whether banning the word gay in school is an act to help teens or if the teachers are just showing how uncomfortable they are with subject and decide to get rid of the topic all together is controversial enough to publish. And I personally like it because I was wondering the exact the same thing in Calculus the other day. These guys in the back called the problem they were working on gay and Mrs. Muso just froze up. I mean, shouldn't she have done something? People should really think about this stuff. Are teachers helping us or making the situation better for themselves? It is obvious that teachers and administrators want to avoid problems at all cost, but is banning the word really helping the gay/lesbian/bi population in our school?

Sadly, there are no letters from him and I can't be up all night, staring at the screen, hoping he'll send one of his amazing, opinionated views on life at Shikon High.

I looked at the clock. It's eleven o'clock on a Saturday night and I decide that I'm not tired enough to actually go to bed. I grab Disc 1 of Season 5 of The Office off my desk and pull my covers off my bed, deciding to camp out in front of the T.V downstairs watching The Office for the hundredth time. What can I say? I love to laugh. I looked at the half eaten bowl of pineapples on my nightstand. I'll scrounge around for some ice cream too. I can go for a run in the morning.

Before I left my room the chime on my laptop went off, signaling I had another email. I ran back over to my desk where I had placed my laptop, hoping he had decided to write to the editor after all. It was just a notification from Facebook, explaining Hojo had sent me a relationship status thingy. He wanted to tell the world that we were no longer together.

I took a deep breath and then confirmed it. I gathered my covers around me and grabbed my movie and headed downstairs, needing the stupidity of Michael Scott to cheer me up. I stopped short to grab my monkey that was resting near my door and drag him down with me.

Breaking up sucks.

-x-

The rope is so thin and tiny and I can't imagine anyone being able to actually walk across it with no problems. My balance teeters a bit, an invisible blow coming out of nowhere, but I regain it and keep going with perfect composure. I don't fall; I don't have to fear the net.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Okay, for those who've read my profile, the story that I left untitled that I was going to have based off song titles is going to be incorporated in this story, so don't keep looking for it. By the way, it was going to be based off Linkin Park's Numb if any of you care, but you might get a hint for future events in this story. Anyways, I hoped you liked this chapter and if you did, please REVIEW!

~Kimiko888~