Sorrrrrry. I know it's been FOREVER since I've been on here, and I blame it on getting acrylic nails too long to type with.
But this is just an idea I had in my head, I don't know where it came from.
Also, I will not be continuing Mates and Highschool, I feel overwhelmed by it and I don't want to keep anyone waiting forever. I will however let someone adopt it with my permission, and ONLY with my permission. I still see it as my baby, and I will be watching over it.
Please enjoy. -xoxo
Inuyasha one-shot.
Rin- 12 (6th grade.)
Miroku- 18 (senior.)
Sango and kagome- 16 (softmore.)
Inuyasha- 19 (graduated.)
Rin's pov.
I was sitting around Inuyasha's living room with Kagome, Inuyasha, Sango, and Miroku. I knew Kagome was Inuyasha's mate, and that they were in a full time comitted relationship..But I didn't understand what happened since I was only like 12.
Kagome was sitting on a couch with her back on the armrest. Her body on the couch with her knees up and a folder with a paper on top leaning on her legs. Sango was on the end of the couch on the floor sitting criss cross with a textbook in her lap. Miroku was in a loveseat on the left side of kagome, her back was to him. Inuyasha was on a recliner on the right of the couch, facing kagome. I was by the coffee table in the center of the room.
Kagome got frustrated and threw her pencil (her and Sango doing homework while Miroku and Inuyasha were just laying around.) She looked pretty pissed off. It was also her time of the month, so I guess her hormones were getting the best of her. Sango glanced at Inuyasha, -who winced and looked up with traces of irritation on his face,- then at Kagome.
Her facial expression said "uh oh" even after she returned to her work. Miroku's mirrored hers.
Inuyasha wasn't really paying attention since he was done with school, but he noticed when she threw the pencil. It was loud against the hardwood floor, and he winced because of it. Half demon with sensitive ears and stuff.
He stared at her for like 2 minutes straight, waiting to see when she would pick it up. She didn't even glance his way and continued to glare at the wall facing her. His face said he was starting to get mad.
"Kagome, are you going to pick that up?"
She looked at him, but it wasn't like the usual glance. It was kinda like she was challenging him to something. I didn't understand what.
"Get it yourself."
First he just looked at her for a second, then all traces of irritation and anger were gone like someone flipped a switch. He looked indifferent.
Kagome sat up a little straighter, giving him her full attention. Sango and Miroku pretended to be distracted, while I just stared. They didn't notice.
He sat up from his lazy position, and leaned towards her with his elbows on his knees, two hands laced together with his chin resting on them. She glared at him the whole time. Then he reguarded her for a few seconds, not blinking, like he was waiting for something.
Her glare faultered.
That's when he spoke, and his voice came out about an octave deeper.
"Pick it up."
She still sat there for a few seconds, so he leaned towards her a bit more. Then her faced changed to anger, but she lowered her head and got up. She picked up the pencil and sat back down, only then did she raise her head again and look at him.
He had been watching her the whole time, eyes never leaving her face, expression never changing.
"Upstairs." He said.
She looked taken aback, and opened her mouth to talk.
"Wh-"
"Upstairs." He cut her off, his voice sounded even deeper.
She glared at him and didn't move.
He started to get up.
She saw that and I swear she flew up the steps.
He got up and walked at a normal speed up the steps.
It was silent in the living room, so I was very sure I heard a door click close and then a body pushed onto something soft. Like a bed.
Then all I remember is Sango and Miroku rushing all of us out of the house, telling me they were going to take me to a park and then get ice cream.
I'm now 16, just remembering this now and finally understanding what happened. I bet Kagome got it good that night.
