Sadly enough, another story has emerged from the minds of my four muses. ::sighs:: They will not leave me alone now… curse them… ::glares at muses::
This plot has been way overdone, I know, but I think this is a little different from the others. :) Anyways, statistics of the story. It is an A/U fic, set in modern Tokyo. Inu-Yasha, Kagome, and all the others are their respective ages as they are in the manga. It is Inu/Kag and Mir/San like all of my other ones. However, this is from Inu-Yasha's point of view… So I hope I get his personality right. ::sweatdrop:: I'll try!! Enjoy!!
Disclaimer: I own nothing… for I am the proverbial poor starving artist sitting at my Windows 95 computer staring at the screen until my eyes boil over. So there.
Oh… and I have no idea if there really are Wal-Marts in Japan… But I'm pretty sure there are McDonalds… or WacDonalds…. That's what they say in the manga. Oh well.
Into the Fray
Chapter 1
Epiphany
I had come to a rapid conclusion about life as I sat on my withered blue couch eating Cheetos while simultaneously watching the beautiful people on my TV exclaim the wonderfulness of a new product while I, the esteemed observer, stared mindlessly at their perfect bodies and faces, and wondered if I could ever be like them. I frowned and then stuffed another handful of Cheetos into my mouth, making the possibility of me achieving that goal slimmer. Oh well.
I looked up to the clock that was mounted to my apartment wall, seeing that it was almost 8:00 in the morning. I looked at my half-empty super-sized bag of Cheetos and wondered if that alone would sustain me through the day, regardless of how nutritious it was. The conclusion about life was lost as I stuffed a last handful of Cheetos into my mouth and rolled up the bag, throwing the junk food into my broken Lazy Boy chair. I licked the salty cheese stuff off of my fingers and grabbed my bag and keys, not really looking forward to another day.
I latched my un-digital, archaic watch on, something I had bought on my own on sale at the local Wal-Mart, an American store that had somehow found its way to Japan. Well… I guess it happened with McDonalds… Oh well. I'm getting off topic, if there is one to be had.
I grabbed my third-world textbooks and stuffed them into my eight-year-old backpack, and walked out of my apartment, not bothering to lock it. There was nothing worth stealing in there anyway… Unless the burglars wanted half a bag of stale Cheetos… But somehow I doubted that.
I walked past the owner, who glared suspiciously at me. "You don't have any pot or any other drugs that you hooligans always have now-a-days, do you?" he asked, his crone-like face crumpling up even more, making him have the appearance of a squashed coke can.
In response, I gave him a stale look and shouldered my bag, heading outside to my car, ignoring his calls of "I'm watching you, boy!!" and "The cops're gonna git you someday!!"
I sneered to myself and muttered, "Crazy redneck…" as I came up to my jeep, a beaten up piece of crap, just like all of my other belongings. I opened the unlocked door and pulled my five-year old CD player out of my backpack, since the radio of the car was stolen from me when I first bought the damn thing. Since I figured that if I replaced it, it would be stolen again, I just decided to waste batteries and use my CD player for the long drive to school. I popped in my System of a Down (Toxicity) CD and turned the jeep on, nodding my head to the beat as I drove out of the parking lot.
I got to a traffic light and manually rolled down my windows, since the jeep's AC didn't work. The jeep, in the summer, was equivalent to an oven with the windows up. At that thought, I vaguely recalled a time when I had decided to test the temperature of the car and put two foil-wrapped s'mores in the front seat and left it for about an hour. When I came back, one was stolen and the other was being consumed by a hobo that had broken into my car. I had asked him if they had melted and he had nodded, quickly getting out of my car when I showed him my aluminum baseball bat. I smiled at the memory and pressed my foot on the gas pedal when the light turned green, enjoying the engine's kick.
Of course, that was the only good thing about my car: the engine. A 305 V-8, Chevrolet. I was amazed that I had kept it for so long… But I guess the rough exterior of my car had given passer-byers the idea that the engine sucked too. The car itself is a Jeep Cherokee, a 1984 model. Its original paint color was something of a deep blue from what I can tell, but figuring it out now is a lost cause. I had once tried to get it a paint job… but could only afford one side. So now, the jeep looks even queerer with one side a glistening navy blue, and the other an unidentifiable blue-look-alike color.
I sped up as I came to the frontage road, getting to the speed of the traffic on the freeway. I flew up the onramp, and weaved my way through traffic, still nodding my head to the beat of the rock music pounding into my ears. I looked around me to see if I was passing too many people (since my speedometer also was busted) and watching out for cops, since my jeep had about fifty things wrong with it. Hell, the only way it ever passed inspection was the guy at the inspection agency was a good friend of my father's, and likes to give me "pushes in the right direction" as he calls it. I say he's just too damn lazy to write all the things wrong with my car.
Since my blinkers didn't work, I stuck my arm out the window and gave a right-turn signal and got into the lane, seeing as how my exit was coming. When I got onto the exit, I let my arm hang out of the car, liking the feel of the cool wind against my skin. Up ahead, I could see the light turn from green to yellow, and I doubled my efforts to get there before something went illegal.
My jeep flew through the intersection, nearly taking the front end off of a classy-looking Lincoln-something that was about to take his turn at the light. I raised my hands in victory, only to have the car start to swerve. I muttered a curse and eased up on the gas and put my hands back on the steering wheel so I wouldn't crash into anything…
It was then that I saw the daily unnerving sight, my junior-high. It was a really classy place, probably the only building that hasn't tried to search my belongings whenever I walk in. I turned my CD player off and turned right into the parking lot at a safe 40-mph, almost making my car roll over. When the right side of my car came back onto the road with a screech, I swerved into a parking space (well… two actually) and turned the car off, stuffing my CD player back into my backpack. As I got out, another guy, a jock, looked at my car and began to laugh.
"Nice car, Shirosenshi!!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at my automobile. "I would have thought it would've been picked up by the junkyard people by now!! And I love the way you parked it! Are you sure you can afford another parking ticket, Shirosenshi?"
My gaze went to my car, the antiquidated side showing to the prep and then down to the ground where the jeep's wheels had exceeded over the white lines, taking up two spaces. I looked back at him and took in his appearance and car, and let my brain filter out what to insult him about. When the filtering was done, I couldn't decide for a moment.
"At least I have my own car and don't have to borrow my mother's… I thought you had your own car, Mayuka?" I asked the jock, who reddened at my response. In showing that I wasn't done, I put my face into one of puzzlement and wonder, as if trying to remember why he had to depend on his mother. "Oh that's right!" I exclaimed, "You got drunk one night and were put in jail for a few months after totaling your car by crashing into that old man's home with your car, right?"
After that he said nothing and I shouldered my pack again and went on my way to the educational prison, leaving the fuming jock/prep behind me. I was a little late as usual, and for once, I was planning on attending first period. It was English, and I had always enjoyed confusing and scaring the 57 year-old woman. Not that I pleasure myself with the idea of scaring old people, it's just that the woman's always drunk and is really easy to trip up and scare her with all of the dark and "evil" (as she puts it) writing that I compose. Mwahahahaha.
I walked into the school with a cocky smirk on my face, a common expression for me. The few people that were still out in the halls avoided me, thinking that I was packing heat or something. To tell the truth, I've never held a gun in my life, despite the many rumors of me belonging to certain gangs or shooting one of the vice-principals. However, I kind of liked the distance that people took when I was around, since I'm not a very… social… person.
I came up to the door to my classroom and walked into it, not bothering to wipe my shoes or anything. The teacher, outwardly holding a large bottle of vodka in her withered hands, glared at me behind her over-sized glasses.
"So you finally decided to grace us with your presence, Shirosenshi-san?" she asked, her voice reminding me of the sound a fork makes while being scraped against a steel plate. I rolled my eyes and went to my seat, beside my two friends, Miroku and Sango.
Sango, not belonging to the goth clique, but one of those other weird ones, didn't look up at me as I sat down. "I knew you were going to be late…" she said in that weird, spaced-out voice of hers. Miroku, to the other side of me, scoffed at this.
"He's always late, Sango-san," he replied, ignoring the look that the intoxicated sensei was giving us. She was about to pass out, anyway. "And may I say that the bleak outfit you're wearing today really brings down my spirits?"
She didn't respond to the remark and looked back at the teacher, who had been clearing her throat for a time. The teacher, her proper name "Chuchei-san," (But I call her by her first name, Beki, like all of my other teachers…) decided to make herself known. "Are you three done yet?" she asked impatiently, trying to intimidate us with her glare. Alas, I myself was immune to the Evil Glare, and smirked, pissing her off even more.
Since her Death Glare wasn't working she decided to go back to teaching the kids that would actually listen to her ramblings. She started going over English sentence structure and syntax, something that was threatening to destroy my brain cells. So, I tuned that out and listened to other people's conversations and let my eyes roam the room.
I had expected to see the usual sight -the guys throwing spit-balls at Beki, and girls swooning over the guys. However, today was… rather different. It was the guys who were swooning, and the girls looked… uncomfortable, even hostile. I noticed one in particular, a prep named Kagura, was glaring at the offensive person in question. I followed her gaze and saw a girl, sitting to my far right. My eyebrows raised at her, dare I say it, beauty.
I nudged Miroku with my elbow and asked, "Who's the chick?" His eyebrows raised and he answered in a whisper, "That, my time-challenged friend, is the new girl Higurashi Kagome. She's come from Osaka. And guess what?" My eyebrows raised at the question. "She's one of us."
"Is she now…?" I asked, a sly smile forming slowly on my face. "What she play?"
"Clarinet," he responded, the same smirk that was on my face emerging on his. "Think she'll make it through the season?"
I chuckled. "Not with me around, she won't."
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Wooo!!! So how do ya'll like it?? Huh? Huh?? Huh??? This is the first time I've ever done 1st person perspective on an Inu-Yasha fic… and the first time I've had to narrarate a guy's mind like this. :) As for the ending… well, I know it kinda sucks but oh well.
As for the last few paragraphs… MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! GO BAND!!
Well, I guess that's all… I'll see ya'll later! Just tell me if ya'll want this to continue!
Ja ne!