A/N: So anyways I was playing golf one day and then it came to me. Smacks forehead I should write a fanfic about golf! I know. Total genius.
A Gentleman's Game
Handicap, please
The young girl stared awkwardly back at the reflection in the mirror. She couldn't help but wonder for probably the hundredth time if she was wearing the right outfit. Her bright pink collared shirt contrasted well with her black mid-thigh khaki shorts, yet she hoped she wasn't giving the impression that she wanted to stand out. She fiddled with her collar wondering if it looked better flipped up or folded down.
She decided to keep it down. It made her look more modest and presentable. Those who wore their collars up always looked like they had something to hide. She didn't want to give that impression.
"Whatever," she sighed, nervously rubbing her hands together. Without further adieu she headed out the door.
Today she would tryout for the golf team. And she prayed to God that would not screw up.
Kagome slumped down the stairs feeling her heart drumming inside her ribcage. On her way out, she passed her younger brother who sat idly on the couch watching some good old-fashioned television…which so happened to have a woman singing and ripping her clothes off at the same time.
She calmly rolled her eyes before reaching down and snatching the remote control from his hands and flipping to a more educational and productive channel.
"Hey, what'd you do that for?" he snapped.
"How many times to I have to tell you that you're not old enough to be watching this? Seriously Souta, do you think any girl is going to be impressed by a guy who enjoys watching Britney Spears strip in front of the camera singing a song about how she wants to seduce her latest boyfriend…or husband in this case?"
"I don't care what girls think," he replied crankily before stealing the control out of her hands. "And it's not Britney Spears its JoJo."
"Oh, I'm sorry. My mistake," she hinted sarcastically. "Well, I'll just be leaving then. Dinner is in the fridge and I'll probably be home aroundsix orseven depending on how long they keep us there."
"Golf is for boring old people," Souta replied plainly. "Smelly old-fart men who think they're actually playing a sport."
"Stop being a smart-aleck."
"No," he protested.
"Is Tiger Woods a smelly-old fart man?"
He continued staring at the screen as if he hadn't heard her.
Why did little brothers always think they were so cool once they reach a certain age in their lives? She wondered.
"Good-bye dearest loving brother," Kagome slammed the door behind her.
Miroku Tanaka cruised into a parking space near the front of the country club disregarding the highly noticeable blue and white sign with a picture of a man in a wheelchair directly in front of him. He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror straightening his trucker hat before sliding his shades to rest on top his head. Once satisfied, he slowly emerged from his monstrous black Hummer smiling devilishly at the looks received from several country club members.
And he could tell it was going to be a beautiful day.
"Oi, Tanaka!" a voice called out to him.
Miroku whirled around just in time to dodge a pair of filthy socks that grazed the side of his head.
His eyes darted to the assailant.
"Inuyasha?" he grinned in surprise revealing a dazzling set of pearly white teeth.
"Hah," the other boy approached him. "I didn't recognize you at first. You look so different."
"Yeah well, we all go through fat stages once in awhile," Miroku responded with a laugh. He picked up the offending pair of socks.
"I didn't mean it like that," the boy became more serious. "You grew."
"Whose are these?" Miroku sniffed the socks effectively evading the subject.
"I wouldn't do that…" Inuyasha started.
"Good God!" Miroku nearly shouted. "What the hell…"
"They're yours actually. Remember that tournament last year where I forgot my socks and you lent me yours? Or maybe it was two years ago," he scratched his chin pensively. "I dunno. But I wanted to return them to you."
"You could have at least washed them—really that's no excuse!"
"I know," Inuyasha smiled wickedly. "But I just found them now. Isn't it cool? I think there's some brown mold growing on the left foot sock near the big toe. It was raining that day so the moisture probably helped it proliferate faster."
"That is utterly disgusting. It smells like the time my grandma finished using the toilet at our—"
"My feet don't smell that bad!" Inuyasha bit out.
"I assure you they do."
"Fighting already are we boys?" a scratchy masculine voice sounded behind them.
The two jumped recognizing the sound of their head coach.
A short squat man with graying whiskers along the sides of his face and a balding head hidden most discreetly under a Scottish cap stared curiously at the pair of young golfers. His dark eyes twinkled with interest.
"Hey Myouga," Inuyasha stated pretending to be thrilled with the return of his overweight coach. He silently thanked God that this was his last year in high school.
"Ready for another year boys? Another opportunity to become state champs? " Myouga grunted whilst flexing his pudgy muscles. "The Black Rhinos are back to defend their title! Watch out!"
Out of all the possible school mascots Funai High school could have taken, they just had to be the rhinoceros. The noble and proud beast.
Just as Myouga began his little rhinoceros jig, several tennis girls passed by at that moment pointing and giggling at the man who looked like a giant round flea.
Inuyasha covered his forehead until he was no longer able to conceal his snicker.
"I dunno, Coach," Miroku responded giving a soft wink to each of the girls. "Ask Inuyasha. I think I'll play it safe on the JV team this year. I don't think I can bear all of the pressure and high expectations you have for us."
Inuyasha hit him on the arm before laughing. "There's the way to go about it. You can beat all the freshmen when you're on JV!"
"I know, right!" Miroku gave him a petty high-five.
"Very funny," Myouga smiled curiously at the dark haired boy. "But I would have expected you of all people Tanaka, to have too much self-respect to allow that to happen. Especially when your interest in the other sex and your concern for what other people might think come first and foremost."
"Well when you put it like that…" Miroku smirked, obviously amused.
Myouga shook his head inching himself away from the pair. "Finish getting ready and meet me up by the putting green. Oh, and Miroku?"
"Hmmm?"
"You're parked in handicapped space."
Miroku smiled coyly. "Why, naturally, yes."
Myouga overlooked him with a wry expression. "Time to stop horsing around. Unless you're physically disabled or mentally retarded—which I sometimes wonder—it's illegal to park in a handicapped space."
Miroku shook his head with feigned ignorance. "But I do have a handicap, Coach. It's like a two or a three."
Inuyasha started howling with laughter.
Myouga was tempted to laugh as well, but for sake of playing the adult, he maintained a straight face. "Ha-ha, very funny, but I don't think the police will treat you with leniency just because of your impressive golf handicap, Tanaka. I suggest you move that—that thing. Now," He added emphasis.
"I don't think so," Miroku rubbed his neck tenderly just then and leaned against the trunk of his car. "Long story short, Coach; I've recently had this terrible case of muscle cramps whenever I drive this baby. Sometimes it's almost unbearable how tight my neck gets."
"Like the hell I care!" Myouga nearly shouted at the spoiled brat. It was ridiculous what parents were willing to buy for their ill-mannered children these days.
"Well, you know she's new," Miroku smiled sheepishly at his new vehicle. "And I'm still trying to break her in, but I'm having a hard time adjusting the head cushions to fit me, and when it's not right up my neck gets really stiff and its difficult turning my head from side to side. So my peripheral vision gets all screwed up not to mention these sunglasses—which I need to protect my eyes from UV radiation—also temporarily impair my vision and prevent me from being able to see right or left when I'm parking. So, basically it's doctors' recommendation that I just go ahead and park where I need to."
Myouga had absolutely nothing to say. For a few moments his eyes simply flicked up and down Miroku as if deciding which part of this pathetic creature he should strike first. Instead he merely threw his hands up in the air.
"No wonder why all my players go pro after high school! It's because none of them can get into college!
That is the worst bullshit I ever heard, Tanaka, but I suppose I could never imagine anything other than that coming from you." Myouga narrowed his eyes before pointing a pudgy finger at the new black Hummer with sparkling eighteen inch rims. "That better be gone by the time practice is over. And I mean it! You can fool around at your little Boy Scout parties at home, but I will not—nor will the country club members tolerate this behavior." With that said, he turned and toddled back towards the club house shaking his head all the while.
The two watched him leave before exchanging furtive glances.
Inuyasha strolled casually over to Miroku's vehicle before giving a long and loud whistle. It was a beauty to behold.
"That was a pretty impressive speech you gave there, Maestro. So are you going to move it?"
"No."
"You shouldn't piss him off, Miroku. Myouga isn't someone you mess with."
"What's he going to do?" Miroku stretched his arms above his head. "Call the police and have them tow it away? Or maybe he'll throw me on JV just for spite. You know I don't care."
Inuyasha laughed before he slapped an arm around Miroku's shoulder. "Maybe, but I guess that could be fun. So are you ready to make my senior year the best year ever? Because I won't accept anything short of that."
"Hell yeah," Miroku spoke softly. "We are going to have mucho fun this year."
Kagome was sweating by the time her beat-up corroding car rolled into the Willow Pines CC parking lot. She was half an hour late. Thirty minutes! The coach would probably cut her before she even got to prove herself unless she had a very liable excuse—which she did. But who on earth would seriously believe that her car keys had slipped between the crevice of her seat cushion and that she actually required the assistance of a neighbor to pry it open while she dug her fingers in to recover them? So it was practically hopeless trying to explain herself.
She raced towards the front entrance of the country club with her golf bag flopping against her back and her hair flying in the wind. She literally threw her clubs on the bag rack and hastily entered the pro shop.
It was quiet inside the room in spite of her ragged breathing. Colorful shirts and unique shoes decorated the racks and walls of the store while the number of putters and clubs available or fit for tryout seemed endless. Kagome hesitantly stepped through the cluttered room and somehow managed to weave her way to the front desk. She rang the small bell several times at the edge of the counter and waited with limited patience. Every now and then she cast a longing glance at a pair of pink and white Echo golf shoes that she'd already picked out for herself—once she won the lottery. There was no other way she could afford it even with her menial job at the grocery store.
She rang the bell again this time with a tad bit more emphasis. This was taking way too long. Her eyes wandered casually over to a bulletin board with pasted scores of the latest club tournament. She observed the "ladies division" which contained many of the same people that her brother had commented on only half an hour ago: little antique ladies unusually hard on the eyes. A picture of the winner was pinned above the scores with a red 164 marked next to it. "Kaede Thatcher," Kagome murmured reading the name of the winner who clung to her prized trophy with frail arms. "You've done well for yourself, you old battle-ax—"
"Yes she has," a cool deep voice interrupted somewhere behind her.
Kagome spun around like a child caught stealing candy. Her eyes fixed upon one of the handsomest men she'd seen in her lifetime who stood resting against the frame of the back doorway. The man's dark brown hair with equally dark eyes matched well with his tan complexion and tight athletic build. It was rare to find someone who carried the whole package these days. Kagome was caught spluttering trying to explain her reasons for being there in the first place.
"She's three-time champion here at Willow Pines," the man smiled.
"Well…that's nice…"
"She's also my mother."
Shit.
"Oh, well that's nice too…" Kagome responded for lack of anything better to say.
Nice job, Kagome. Go on, keep digging that hole. She'd reach the other side of the world by the time this conversation was over.
"Can I help you with something Ma'am?" the man drummed his fingers lightly on the clear counter.
Someone was in a rather irritable mood.
"Uh, yes, do you know where I might find the Funai High School girls golf team?"
His face brightened up at the mention of the team. "Ah, yes you're here for try-outs. I believe they've already warmed up at the range and are heading out to the course as we speak. I could give you a lift out there to save some time."
"That would be great!" she smiled back charmingly. So they had started without her. Perhaps the Coach of the team had forgotten that she was coming today? Or maybe he didn't care.
"Come on," he guided her to the doorway.
She followed him outside. "I'm Kagome by the way. Thanks for the help and I'm sorry about your mother. I sometimes say things without thinking."
"Don't worry about it," he cast a sideways glance at her and then hopped into one of the nearest golf carts in the side garage drove up to her. "I was an accident child anyway."
Okay.
Kagome's eyes widened. "Oh, I see," she tried to sound only mildly curious.
"Yeah my mom forgot to be careful one day, and surprise, here I am today. Because of that all my brothers are almost ten years older than me." He stared at her for a moment. "Well, are you going climb in or not?"
She blushed slightly before sliding next to him. This was one of the positives about playing golf. The ratio of boys to girls was always higher. The ratio of rich boys to poor boys was always higher. The ratio of gorgeous-looking guys to average-looking guys was always higher.
He tapped on the pedal and they jerked forward following the cart path as it wound through the plush lime landscape. It was stunning, Kagome decided. She wished she was a member of this club instead of the crummy driving range that she practiced at every day near her house. Summer was coming to a close and the trees became a shimmering display of red, yellow, orange, and brown. The fairways and greens were trimmed neatly and the rough was allowed to grow long. A brief gust of wind brushed through rustling her black hair. She tied it back hastily and slid her visor on. The air smelled clean as she inhaled deeply. It was like she was part of a higher society only meant for the elite. For once in her life she actually felt like she belonged. But only for a short time.
"Naraku, there's a cart driving towards us!" Yuka cried out just as Eri reached the the top of her swing ready to hit the ball.
As a result, Eri swung down too quicklychunking hard at the ball with her golf club. Grass and dirt went flying everywhere as the ball dribbled a few yards off the tee. At that very moment the wind changed direction and a small blade of grass flew into Naraku's eye.
God damn it, why the hell did I get this job?
Naraku rubbed his eye irritably.
"Look what you did, Yuka!" Eri bit out angrily. "That's so like you to say something while I'm swinging especially when my score actually counts today!"
"Well you take like ten practice swings before you hit the ball and I didn't know you were actually going to hit it that time!" Yuka shouted back. "Besides, it's your own fault for playing so slow."
"Ladies, ladies," Naraku said politely. "What did I say about saving the PMS for after practice?"
Kagome arrived suddenly with her first glimpse of the team that she would hopefully come to grow with and depend on over the season. They seemed normal enough. The pair of girls stared blankly back at her with inquiring eyes, but the man on the side looked like a Hippie dressed in some Scottish freak show attire.
Her eyes were drawn to his upper legs—oh no it couldn't be. A kilt? It wasn't possible. Was he gay? One could only wonder…
Kagome glanced back at Suikotsu who sat next to her with an amused expression on his handsome face. She'd managed to learn his name in their little ride together and had come to find his company rather enjoyable. To her surprise he had a more cynical personality than she'd given him credit for. Somehow it had made it easier to converse with him.
"Thanks again, Suikotsu," Kagome stepped out and unstrapped her golf bag from the back of the cart. "I guess I'll see you around then."
"I look forward to it," he winked at her. "Play well, and hit 'em far." He drove off leaving her alone to face her undecided future.
"Hi," one of the girls squeaked behind her.
"Be quiet, Yuka," the other whispered just above earshot. "You don't need to make her feel welcomed or anything."
"I was only trying to be polite!" Yuka hissed back.
Well, here it goes. "I'm Kagome," She strode confidently up to them making a deliberate bow. "And I'm here to try-out for the golf team."
"No you're not," the sinister Hippie cut in.
"Excuse me, but I wasn't speaking to you, Scotland." She shot him a glaring look before continuing. "Do you know where I might find the Coach?"
Unable to control themselves, Yuka and Eri let out a frivolous giggle. They continued even more so when Kagome gazed at them perplexed.
"What's so funny?" she demanded.
Their laughing grew louder.
"I'm the Coach of this team," Mr. Long-Haired-Kilt-Man responded for them.
Kagome searched his dark penetrating eyes to see if there was even a trace of humor. To her horror she found none.
Shit.
"Go home," he said suddenly with a malicious grin. "You're late. You're cut. Good-bye."
A/N: Yeah, like I would seriously end the story like that.
So anywho, for those who want to know what's going to happen next chapter (I mean how can you possibly write a story about a golf?—believe me you can), expect Inuyasha to get hit in the head by Kagome's golf ball, and we'll see how it progresses from there.
Thanks to all my fabulous readers.
/anie