Street Rat
Chapter One: Crash and Burn and Roosters
"Damn it, where did he go?" Two red-eyed guards huffed and puffed, sauntering past the closed stalls with obvious exasperation. "He was right here!"
It was only after they had disappeared around a corner did Kagome peek over an empty wagon, silently snickering and mentally patting herself on the shoulder. Having a "cursed" blood sure came in handy at times like this.
With a cursory glance down both ends of the dirt road, she tiptoed down an alleyway with her hard-earned burlap sack slung over her small shoulder. She was a thief, and an unrepentant one at that. The ruling demons and even the human merchants would judge her harshly for it, arguing people like her could easily raise her status if she just tried. They weren't wrong either; with her looks and youthful energy she could easily make a living as a popular barmaid, or even a mascot for one of the thriving stores in the tailor's district.
If only she wasn't descended from a priestess.
"Look who's home!" Kagome announced her return in a singsong voice.
Souta appeared first, hands already raised and ready. "What'd you get this time?"
"What, no loving "Welcome back," or "Thank you my gracious and beautiful goddess-for-a-sister"? I'm hurt." Kagome said with feigned despair.
"Food!" Souta responded by pointing a finger at his open mouth.
She rolled her eyes and went to the small kitchen, her brother following behind her. They lived in a small hut that contained three rooms: A combined kitchen and dining room, a living room, and a bedroom shared by all four members of the family. They couldn't afford to move, not necessarily because of money but because of the risk of exposure.
When the Great Revolution took place all those centuries ago, priests and priestesses were the first to oppose the demons. The faithful fought well, but in the end in-fighting and several betrayals led to their numbers dropping and the demons' eventual victory. Now, anyone descended from priests and priestesses were required to register and work for the demons. Those who refused went into hiding, living a meager existence on the fringe.
Not that Kagome was complaining. Working for demons was a double-edged sword. She could end up working for a generous human sympathizer who respected what little rights the humans had left…or most likely end up working for one of the many demons that saw humans as nothing but slaves or, worse, toys.
Nope, being a thief was a much better lifestyle. Especially since being a priestess meant having to power to conceal herself from their senses.
"Oh Kagome," her mother said as she turned from the sink. "You didn't have to go out tonight. We still have so much left."
"It's getting dangerous out there. The patrols have increased lately," Grandpa sagely said, staring at a particular spot on the wall.
"I'll be fine. As long as I avoid line-of-sight, they can't sense me," Kagome assured them. It was true, having nothing but the ample time and seclusion to meditate and practice meant she was an expert at manipulating her spiritual powers, which she had plenty of.
Her mother sighed. "Just be careful, honey."
"Yeah. If you get in trouble remember to use your distress calls!" Souta helpfully offered as he took a bite out of a pilfered apple.
Kagome rolled her eyes. "We came up with those calls years ago. They're stupid."
"No they're not!"
The siblings argued, unaware that in a few hours their lives were about to change so very drastically, and they would be involved in a tumultuous and deadly conflict.
The lewd sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in the luxurious chamber. Red silken sheets draped over the mahogany canopy bed frame. The ceiling, recently renovated, was decorated in rich artwork depicting women and men engaging in carnal sins.
"Ah," a feminine voice whined. "My lord, please!"
"Shut up," a male voice growled. "Keep quiet." He hated when they spoke, the way they tried to speak an octave higher to sound more girly, more submissive. At least they were usually obedient and tried to keep silent when he ordered it. To make his point, he brutally slammed into her, eliciting a squeal. He pounded away, digging his claws into her sides, ignoring her pained gasps and moans. He felt no guilt hearing her cries. This whore wouldn't even acknowledge him if she knew his real identity.
Inuyasha was the half-demon bastard of the late King, allowed to enter court only because of his birth father's influence. He had little say in the castle, only allowed to stay after his father's death on the condition of never letting the public see him. Inuyasha was forced to skulk and hide in his own home like a damn rat. He knew he was judged and mocked by humans and demons alike, they just never dared to say it out loud or in the open due to his family's influence.
"Ah, oh god," she said after a particularly deep thrust.
He grabbed the back of her head and harshly shoved her face into the pillows, not caring at all if he was suffocating her. Playing with the whores in the brothels was his only reprieve, and even then he had to do it anonymously. He didn't need to wear a disguise, considering no one but those closest to the royal family would recognize him, but he had been forced to give various pseudonyms over the years. Not only that, these so-called high-class workers demanded the finest jewelries to ensure his secret rendezvous remained a secret.
One last snap of his hip and he released himself, his juices pouring into her round white ass and leaking out onto the red sheets.
And then all hell broke loose.
"HOLY MOLY!"
Part of the ceiling caved in, the artwork cracking open as the sky fell down on them…or rather than the sky, a very small and distinctly female figure dropped down…right beside the entangled pair of naked, sweaty bodies on the bed.
"Ouch! Who skimped out on the construction fees?"
Inuyasha stared, frozen in his position, still inside the woman who had yet to recover from her own orgasm. The intruder turned and that was when amber eyes met brown eyes partially hidden behind black bangs, registering shock and awe.
As well as embarrassment.
"Oh my god! Are you having sex?"
And then she started saying the strangest things.
"THE ROOSTER CROWS AT MIDNIGHT! THE CHINCHILLA WALKS AMONG US! THE MOUSE IS NIGH! ROOSTER! CHINCHILLA! MOUSE!"
The strange woman that fell through the ceiling rolled out of the bed in record time and dove to the window. Finding it locked, she picked up a heavy oak chair and threw it against the window, prompting a deafening shatter—completely ignoring the fact that she could've unlocked the window by simply turning the latch—then jumped out, still yelling something about roosters.
…what the hell?
AN: So this is mostly a humor fic. A sexy humor fic. Hehehe.
