Hey you guys! It's me, Lina, and I've decided to start another story. I'm very sorry for discontinuing Backfired Dreams, but I just ran out of ideas. I'm sorry. I really drove myself into a corner with that one. I won't do that with this story, as I have a pretty hefty outline already drawn up.
So this is actually the revised version of chapter one. I wrote the first draft over two years ago, went back and read, and was very, very appalled at how much I hated it. Lol. So I wanted to make it a little better. I've started a revising project. So if the next chapter is horrible, just bare with me until I make it better. I think they start getting readable around chapter five, "Fair". Those shouldn't take as much time to revise as the beginning ones will. This took me forever.
Anyway, I enjoy a good review, yet I obviously won't penalize you for not giving me a bunch. I love constructive criticism, but I'd rather not be yelled at. I suppose if you must get out how much you hate it, go nuts. Just don't be mad when I yell back for your rudeness. I love answering reviewers, so expect a PM in response to all your loveliness! All right. I suppose that's it. Here we go.
Disclaimer: I will put this here once and one time only. (Actually, they may be at the beginning of the not yet revised chapters, but from here on out I find myself getting tired of writing them all the time.) So this will have to do. I don't own Inuyasha (obviously), and that is that!
Okay. Have fun you guys. Oh, and it may take you second to get used to the writing style. It's a little odd. Bare with me, okay?
Kagome stopped in front of a locker. No, it was not her locker, and no, she did not care. She was pretty damn certain no one would dare tell her to get out of the way—unless, of course, they were sporting pretty hefty set of extra balls. She almost hoped someone around here was; her week had been terribly boring. And though she wasn't there purely for the fun little fact of irritating the owner, she wouldn't be lying if she'd said she wanted something, anything interesting to happen to her, or someone, somewhere. She just needed a moment to stop and fix her lipstick. She (with the poise that only came with doing this, like, ten times a day, every day) slid the stick over her lips, one side to the other, then back again, leaving a trail of glistening, deep red. Yes, it was flashy (she was aware), but she demanded to be in some way distinguishable from hundreds of other girls passing her by.
She kept her head held high and never minded the fact that the tall, slim, lots-and-lots-of pink wearing, graceful (supposedly?), slender—oh, what else?—bitchy girls of her school would try oh, so very hard to intimidate her with their snickering. She figured they were a small percentage of people she had to deal with, so why, exactly, should she care? She didn't mind simply because while all the pink-bitch-girls (she had dubbed them that) were smirking at her with their false triumphant stares, the guys behind them were staring at her with a—how do you say—different kind of look.
What kind of different? Well, that all just depends on how one looks at it. It was amusing to her, really, it was. She had a stereotype of boys, that they were… oh, what had she decided on… dumb, mean, predictable? However, to several others watching her interaction with the members of the opposite sex, it was, to put it bluntly, annoying. It looked too easy for her. And why was that? Because it was too easy for her. She was beautiful, confident, (rather intimidating)—just—unconventional, would be the correct word. She dismissed most men, as fawning really wasn't her thing.
But it was truly fine. People were jealous of her and, whether she was aware of it or not, she never did much about it. If they glared, fine, glare till you get beautiful, frowny wrinkles. If they came up and said 'hey bitch', okay, she may or may not have to pop them in face. But usually she left well enough alone. Shejust wanted them to be aware that she could demolish them if provoked. Oh, how she wished someone would provoke her today.
As she finished her lipstick, she rubbed her lips together then pursed them out. After a kiss to the air, (actually, it was in the general direction of a group of lovely boys—purposeful?) as if to test out the newfound gloss on her lips, she was just about ready to go. She could have sworn she heard one say her lips looked nice. But just in case she didn't, there was no acknowledgment on her part. If she were wrong, that would just be embarrassing.
Why was the world such a predictable, yet perversely entertaining, place? She pondered this after she had snuck a look at the group. Oh, yes, she definitely didn't imagine the comment. Nice drool, she wanted to say. One, who she noticed was particularly attractive, threw a charming smile her way. Eh, swing and a miss.
She smiled (to herself, though). She thought it ridiculous how much she could influence certain people one way, then others in such a dramatically different way. Maybe she was just unusual like that, she considered with a sigh. Sometimes it proved to be an advantage, but other times it was really more of a hindrance to her life in general. Especially when it confirmed even more that she was different.
But no one could ever know just how unique she really was. When one lives in a world where being different is a crime, the only thing that really can be done is hide it with every inch and fiber of one's physical capability. She was pretty damn good at it, basically.
She smoothed down her leather jacket and pulled up her jean pants, as they had fallen slightly down in the most annoying way. Shitty, too-big pants. She licked her finger and tried, with so must effort (seriously, she put a lot of sweat and tears into this) to rub off a diminutive stain on her black shirt; she had drooled some toothpaste on it earlier in the day. Well, she assumed it was from toothpaste. She hoped it was from toothpaste.
While looking down, attending to her current task, a little smudge on her black boots, which had also gone unnoticed until that moment, caught her attention. She bent to down to try and wipe off the blotch. What the hell was with her screwing up all her crap?
Of course that was only, um, about two thirds of the school's population that were mentioned. The other third was easily comprised of her close friends, acquaintances, or people who looked up to her. She was kind of a take-no-shit kind of girl. For some reason, people seemed to like that. She supposed she could be considered… well known, as everyone in the school did have an inclination as to who she was… but not popular, never popular. People who were considered that always seemed to be the useless shells of shells of these—things—that wished they were people who all dressed the same and talked about nothing all of the effing time. And it was very, extremely, tremendously, insanely, without a doubt im-freaking-portant to her, that she never became anything close to resembling, thinking, or acting as such. Did she believe in stereotypes yet demand no one put her in one? Why, yes. That sounds about right. Was she a hypocrite? No, no she was not.
Okay. Whatever.
It didn't matter who did what and why. The only thing she cared for was that no one messed with her or her friends and she would, in turn, cause no havoc in the lives of others. It was a very simple equation, actually. It was not as though she went around looking for someone to fight with. As far as she was concerned the less fighting she did at school, the better. Her philosophy was that the less she screwed around, the lesser possibility of her ability being found out.
Which meant: The less chance of people finding out she was different (that's what people with abilities like hers were called—she found it rather fitting in an obvious way), the less chance of her having to single handedly fight hundreds of keepers (guys in charge of finding and taking care of different people), and the less chance of her losing, and consequentially being executed and/or caged up and/or exiled. Which, truth be told, did not sound appealing to her in the least.
And this philosophy worked just fine. She was just so bored; everyone at school pretty much left her alone if they had a bone to pick (out of fear of getting their asses kicked to the moon). She supposed most of these people had a good sense of self preservation. When screwed with, Kagome didn't particularly know the meaning of hesitate.
Well, almost everyone. Everyone except for him. He was a different story though. He was strong. And a bastard. There was no getting around that. Either of those.
She gave up trying to remove the smudge, resisting the urge to admit it was a scuff. "Damn it," she mumbled. She was in a deep seeded debate with herself over whether or not she should give it another go—but, oh no. What's this? Her movement ceased completely, muscles tensed.
She knew he was coming from ten yards away. She could feel his eyes watching her as well as his steps on the ground as he closed the gap between them. Though she couldn't see him, her gaze still facing the floor, she knew he was standing right in front of her. She cursed the hairs on her arms, willing them to chill the fuck out.
"Well, speak of the devil," she said lowly. She was pretty aware he'd heard her, though she wasn't sure whether not she intended him to. She started to come up to straight standing position and almost bumped the top of her head on his chin. Hey, please, get a little closer. No, really, I want you to. She hadn't expected him to be right there. A mouth full of hair, lovely, that's what she'd always wanted (no, that didn't actually happen; moral of the story was that he was close enough for his hair to weirdly tickle her face). Never mind that is was gorgeous, silky, and long. Enough to make her jealous of it—she decided when she met this boy it should be a rule that men couldn't have prettier hair then women. Asshole.
There had to have only been two inches of space between them. Kagome really wanted to know what the hell he wanted. What was wrong with him? Standing in front of her like that without any motive. He should have given up on the whole intimidation thing, like, three years ago. What the fuck, she wanted to scream. Just his presence did a number on her nerves. It always did—pretty dangerous.
After about fifteen seconds of no noise or movement or speech she decided to talk, pushing the thoughts of a possible blow to her pride out of her mind, "Can I help you, Inuyasha?" Of course she was nowhere close to any sort of semblance of serious. She'd never do anything accommodating for this boy if she could possibly help it. And from the sound of the edge in her voice, he was probably, pretty conscious of it.
Ugh. Inuyasha.
He continued to stare with an added touch of this annoying, fucking foot tapping, "You can get the hell out of my way, is what you can do, Kagome." He eyed her with this cocky smirk (that, in all seriousness, just made her want to punch him in the face) and continued to play along with her little game of pretend, "That'd be a great help. Thanks." He had this—triumphant tone (ugh!)—as he attempted to push her to the side. He was, in no way, actually expecting her to move willingly; he just thought a good old college try might prove useful.
Of course she didn't budge as she forced his hand off her shoulder, "Oh, I'm sorry, Inuyasha, did you want me to move?" She moved even closer to his face, successfully proving her point of 'you wanna go, bitch?' "Would you like me to kiss your ass on the way out the doggy door too?" A smirk appeared on her face as the one on his wiped off, turning into a supreme, aggravated scowl.
"You're standing in front of my locker," he said through gritted teeth. His locker? How frustratingly ironic.
Kagome could tell he was trying to keep his cool. Maybe he didn't feel like fighting today. That was probably a good thing, because neither did she. She had wanted something interesting. Just not with him. For the first time since the school year began, she was about to just walk away.
That is, before he ruined her good mood with a vulgar, "So will you just get out of my fucking way, bitch?" Damn. Him. All thoughts of leaving the potential fight had left her mind. She fumed as she turned to glare at him, ready to either receive the first blow, or give it. Did he really think that was a good idea? There was no way in all hell she was going to move for him now.
He moved his face even closer to her, if that was even humanly possible. Their bodies were touching— their noses were only a centimeter apart. She dropped her stiff fighting stance and gave into a looser, but still alert position. She felt her hands begin the insufferable process of clamming up.
She mentally cursed them. Really? After all these years was he still trying to make her nervous? And really, it was actually working?
His face moved even closer to her and her eyes widened, as she was almost sure he was going to make contact. What in the world? A kiss—how the hell was that going to solve anything! Kagome sharply in took a breath as she felt her knees buckle beneath her. He smiled (well, no, it was definitely a smirk, the arrogant kind) and he swerved his face away (at the last very last, freakingsecond). His mouth landed near her ear, "So what's it gonna be, babe? You gonna obey me like a good little wench? Or do I need to screw up that pretty, red-lipsticked face a yours?" He breathed it all into her ear, tickling her kind of. She could feel his proud grin in the air.
She bristled. He was playing with her! How dare he fucking play with her like that?
Well if he thought he'd hit a soft spot, then damn him, so would she.
She giggled slightly (she didn't even know she could giggle off command), just supple enough that she knew only he could hear her. She put her hands on his stomach ever so softly and slowly, agonizingly moved them to his upper body. As she lightly tapped her fingers on his chest she looked up and smiled. It was true, very convincing, and she wanted to laugh so, so hard at how fiercely he tried (oh, the failure) to hide his bewildered expression. She bit the side of her lip, forcing down butterflies that threatened to escape at their closeness, and the way he looked at her.
She watched his eyes move down to her lip, captured between her teeth, then slowly progress back up to her eyes. She didn't blink—not once—as to not break the trance she had formed between them. Was even she caught in this daze? No, she decided, she would not be.
She rose to her tiptoes and brought her lips to his ear. She made sure their cheeks were lightly touching and she noticed, for a moment, his face, and the softness. Fuck him and his beautiful, girly hair and his flawless, girly face. She was touching his ear and she felt the electricity move through his cheek, the warmer it became (she hoped he was very, very uncomfortable). She made no movement to say anything; she just stood there with her hot breath making its way onto the side of his face.
Your turn to be nervous, fucktard.
"Make me…" she whispered and kissed his ear ever so lightly (she almost couldn't believe her own boldness). She chuckled, this time, for real; not because of her ploy, but at the massive shudder he was, quite visibly, trying to suppress.
Make him squirm.
Wait…
Not yet.
Now.
"…Elf…" She pulled her face back to look at him with hands still on his chest. His breath caught in his throat and he found himself rendered rather paralyzed for a second or two. Enlarged eyes were all Kagome was staring at during that moment of intense scrutiny.
Oh, just wonderful. Perfect, even.
That was a spot not to be hit by far. Just know this: Kagome wasn't the only different person at her school. Inuyasha was one as well. And rather unlucky for him, he was born with characteristics that distinguished him from the normal people. She didn't know what his ability was, for he wouldn't be stupid (retarded) enough to use it at school. But what could be seen were his ears, clearly abnormal as they were—they appeared elfin, pointed, and something she would have seen in a movie. She imagined he had heightened senses. She did as well, but only slightly; it just came in the package when you were different.
Something that baffled her, though, were his nails. They weren't normal nails, they were more like claws. Oh, she imagined being swiped by those claws, and her heart being ripped in half. She wondered if they had something to with his ability. Kagome had to admit she was curious to see what he could do.
Sure, she was putting herself in danger (her curiosity sorely out matched her need to preserve her safety) by hinting she could see his hidden characteristics, for only different people could see through the tools people like Inuyasha used for concealment. And it was a dead giveaway that she was different as well. But why, in the name of Satan below and God above, did it have to matter so much? It was not as though he would expose her secret when she knew his. What kind of idiot would risk getting caught by the government out of spite for another person? No horrible black bags for her, thank you.
She took a glance at his necklace. She wondered if that rosary was what tethered his appearance to come across as normal. She also wondered what would happen is she took it off… That was certainly something that could be used to her advantage. She couldn't ever remember seeing him without that thing on.
Inuyasha, apparently, had caught hold of his senses, because he decided to make a rather sloppy attempt at kicking her legs out from underneath her.
"Too slow!" Kagome smiled and jumped over his leg as it swung under her body. She pushed him back against the lockers on the other side of the hall in the same fluid motion as the bound. (It was easy for her plan to be put into motion, as her hands were still on his chest from the beginning.)
He was flung back by the force of her unexpected brute strength and collided with the lockers on the opposing side of the hall. He heard a number of students gasp and a few, unsuspecting females even scream. But no one actually cared, that much he knew. This was standard procedure for the two of them. This happened every day, one way or another. He hated her, and she hated him. That was just the way it was. Neither of them really wanted to change either part of it.
But never before had she called him Elf. Maybe jackass…jerk off… bastard… But never in a million names had she called him Elf. First off, what a stupid fucking thing to call someone. But then again, he didn't really think she meant it as something offensive. She meant to tell him I know something you don't know, now, what the hell are you gonna do about it? How could she know? How could she see?So many thoughts, all equally laden with a fair amount of confusion, spun around and around in his head as he picked himself up.
He posed himself into a fighting stance. Did this mean that Kagome, his most worthy opponent, was different? It would explain a lot—she was indeed very strong for a girl. Almost too strong. But never in a million years had he thought that she might be different. He couldn't stop himself from wondering what her ability was.
He shook his head. He was getting way ahead of himself. There was no way she had an ability. He was certain that other than himself (and his brother, the asshole) there were almost no different people. (Other than a few unkempt street rats and maybe a few gang members throughout the city that had not already had a black bag forced over their faces.)
He was lucky. Very, very lucky.
Almost all different people were taken by the keepers. There were very few of them left, much to the government and the humans' happiness. They were so afraid of people with abilities whom they deemed menaces to society. The fact that they were simply stronger than everyone else made the general public want to kill them all. And it made him utterly sick. Humans. They decide to destroy all they don't understand.
There was no way a girl like Kagome could get into this high school with an ability without getting black bagged, what with all of the blood tests and background checks… She would have to be insanely crafty and smart to avoid all of that. And there was absolutely no way he was going to give her as much credit as he gave himself for getting into this facility by avoiding all that junk. He wasn't saying that he thought her dumb, per se—or—maybe—actually yes, that's what he was saying.
It was just a lucky pick of names, he decided. She must have run out, so went with Elf. She knows nothing, she sees nothing, it meant nothing, she is nothing special.
Just a girl. Just a normal, kickass girl.
He commanded himself back into reality and was met with Kagome (infuriatingly) staring at him with a bemused expression, "What's the matter, Inuyasha? Elf got your tongue?" He tried to stop a threateningly visible flinch, but it was proving rather difficult. He was really having some trouble. What was she getting at anyway? "Well, please, allow me to get him off for you." She ran at him with full force and punched him square in the face. Why he hadn't dodged the blatant attack was beyond her; it was actually a rather sloppy and straight forward move on her part.
Everyone could hear it. The sound of past paced flesh on flesh rang through the circle of people that had finally surrounded them (as they did every day). But today—it was different—why was it different? Inuyasha seemed to be rather of his game.
He bent down and cradled his bleeding cheek, "Damn it!" Man that bitch hit hard…
Kagome bent down as well, to look at him, "Tsk tsk tsk, Inuyasha, that really doesn't look good. Maybe you should get that checked?" Following her snide remark, she stood up and placed her hands on his shoulders, and before he could even hope to react, jammed her knee into his stomach with such an amount of vigor that it sent him soaring a considerable distance backwards. He landed with a hard and loud bang! on a whole new bunch of lockers which, she cringed, now had a wonderful, lovely dent the shape of Inuyasha's ass. She hoped to her God in heaven the school wouldn't make her pay for that.
Kagome slowly walked over to the heap on the floor, which was now supposed to be some sort of interesting representation of Inuyasha. He was holding his stomach and gasping for breath on both knees, bending down over the floor (his other hand was used to prop himself up). Damn it. What the hell was wrong with him? He coughed up a little blood; everyone around cringed as it splatted onto the floor. She had never even come close to inflicting this type of damage on him before. What the fuck was her motivation on today of all days?
He could feel the vibrations of her feet against the floor. She was coming, and he knew there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He tried to inwardly yell, to make himself come on, to stand up and be a man. To not let Kagome continue making the world's largest dick out of him. He shook his head. What. She. Said. Meant. Nothing. Damn it.
She stopped in front of him and knelt down, again. It was all so perfect, and so easy, Kagome considered it all as she stared at him. She knew she threw him a curve ball. She knew he was confused which resulted in his current, shitty-ass fighting and man, it was all so effortless, so uncomplicated! One word. Elf.
"What's the matter with you, Inuyasha?" She grabbed his chin in her hand and smiled a large, hearty smile (it wasn't really all that needed). She moved closely to his face and rose in eyebrow, "Is it something I said?"
One beat. One unguarded beat. That's all he needed to turn this fight around.
She brought up her arm to block—not nearly quick enough, though—to stop Inuyasha's fist as it flew toward her face.
It wasn't enough to send her flying back, but she'd be damned if that wasn't one of the most painful places to be hit. She hated being struck in the face.
She made the mistake, again (well excuse her for being disorientated for a second after getting punched in the face), as she was forced to the ground with Inuyasha's arms and legs on top of hers, pinning her down. "Well there you are, Inuyasha! I was beginning to think we lost you for a second!" she chided, while struggling under his body weight.
Her eyes went wide as a fist soared toward her face again. And then another. "I find it funny how you try to make jokes even though you're clearly losing, Kagome." Her vision was starting to turn fuzzy; actually, there seemed to be more than one Inuyasha looming overhead. She was fairly sure there was supposed to be only one—oh, this could spell badness for her. Though she was seriously feeling it, she would never show him when she was weak.
"Oh really, Inuyasha? Is that what you call this? Kagome losing? Because I call this—" She had no time to finish as another angry fist came at her.
He'd be damned if he let this bitch make him look like an ass in front of all these people. Their fights had never gone this far before. There would be a push or two, possibly a punch or a slap (she had kneed him in the balls a couple times). But Kagome had gone farther than ever before. And hell would sooner freeze over before he would let her win in a real fight like this.
Oh, what a horrible situation. She tried to not do it, really, she did. She found herself pretty powerless over her own self, though, as she lifted her hands in front of her face, slapped them together, and closed her eyes for a brief moment, concentrating. She waited, one second, that's all. She then slammed her hands onto the floor on either side of her, the ground beneath them shooting up about a foot and then back down (as if nothing had happened at all—it was a fraction of a second).
Inuyasha flew off her on account of the momentum of the moving ground. It was very quick, and she hoped with everything she had that no one had seen it. It was possible, she thought, that every person could have blinked at that exact moment (or if not, just thought they were seeing things?)
See, now this was why she liked to avoid fights at school. Sometimes her body reacted on its own and used its ability whether Kagome had a say in it or not. She had grown much better at controlling it, that was for damn sure, but obviously not good enough if things like this still decided to happen.
She staggered up before Inuyasha could pounce on her again, though he clearly wasn't going to make any move to. He just kind of sat there blinking and looking around as if trying to find the source of all this weirdness. People didn't usually just fly off their opponents like that, did they?
Well. At least he was completely clueless. Kagome was relieved as she slowly walked over to him.
Her leisurely stroll was unfortunately cut rather short as the battered boy in front of her pushed himself up. He looked her straight in the eye, "Kagome. What the hell was—" He stopped at the feeling of Kagome's foot connecting with his nuts. She had no more time for him today.
He slid to the ground. "That's what the hell that was, you jackass."
She grabbed her school bag, found somewhere in the mass of people, and slung it over her shoulder. She stood up straight (even though it sent a whirlwind of shooting pain to every part of her body); she wouldn't show anyone the weakness that threatened to overtake her.
Every student parted to let Kagome through, their loud cheering in the face of her fight now a stony, cold silence. She walked with her head held high, as it always was without faltering, straight out the doors of the school without saying another word about it.
Oh, I forgot to mention Inuyasha's lack of dog ears. He is a full demon in this story. So, no dog ears for him. He has the elfin ones just like his older brother.
Mmkay, all done! Hope you liked it. Review, please, if you would? Thank you all and to all have a good night.
