Author:grapesRgone
Disclaimer:I don't own Kagome. Or Sango.
Author'sNote: Well here I am starting another story without even attempting to continue with the others. It kind of makes you lose hope that this one will last more than one chapter doesn't it? We'll see how long it holds my attention. The title doesn't really have anything to do with the story. It's just where I got my inspiration from. I figured it would either stir up people's curiosity and cause them to start reading or scare them off completely. I have no idea how I could actually work a chick and a duck into the plot without making it completely insane (more so than it already is) . With that said, this is a short chapter, and I hope you enjoy all the craziness.
The One With All The Doom
11:55.It was almost time and the girl was in a frenzy. Where was her left shoe? Her normally tidy bedroom was a chaotic mess with half the contents of her closet strewn about haphazardly. She needed that shoe. But the clock ticking loudly from her bedside table reminded her she didn't have time.
"Who needs shoes anyway?" She would be just fine barefoot! As long as she didn't step on a rusty nail and die from tetanus. She winced. But the alternative was much worse. She would have to risk it. Giving up the shoe for a lost cause she scrambled up from her spot amidst the debris. If only she could get out her apartment before -
There was a knock at her door. It was too late. Curse Sango and her stupid - evil - punctuality! Didn't she know that it was common courtesy to arrive five minutes late?
She briefly glanced out her window, contemplating her chances of surviving the three story drop.
Another knock.
With a gulp, she looked longingly at the ground below before turning to face the front door of her apartment. It stood, solid and unyielding, mocking her and her current predicament. She was utterly, hopelessly, undeniably doomed.
"Kagome?" came Sango's muffled voice. "Hurry up. We're going to be late."
Resigned to the inevitable, she dug through the mess-that-was-her-room for a nicer pair of shoes - unsuited for the running she had planned on doing - and checked her appearance in the mirror, smoothing down her raven locks and forcing a bright smile onto her face. After all, Sango only meant well in arranging the date. She couldn't be angry at her friend. Much.
Knowing she could no longer put off her inescapable fate, she swung open the door to find the brown-haired woman anxiously checking her watch.
"Kagome," she reprimanded, "we were supposed to leave seven minutes ago. They might get tired of waiting and leave."
"Ah. Sorry." She tried her best to sound regretful, she really did, but her happiness at the thought of missing the date was too hard to hide.
"Kagome."
"Alright, alright. I'm coming," she said soothingly as she hurried to lock the door behind her. "Besides, Miroku wouldn't leave."
Her friend brightened at the thought.
"My date on the other hand..." She tried not to sound too hopeful.
As they headed towards the stairwell (the apartment elevator was still broken), Kagome couldn't help but think that no matter what her best friend believed was good for her, going on a blind date was a horribly awful idea. Because she hadn't been on a date since- And even then, that was him, so it didn't count.
How did one act on a date with a complete stranger? Especially when they would rather fight a giant centipede demon than go on the date in the first place. She snorted at the image that thought procured, knowing she wouldn't last a second in a battle. Not to mention, bugs were disgusting. Particularly twelve-foot bugs with hundreds of legs.
"Oh quit moping. I'm sure your date will be just fine," Sango said as they exited the building, unaware of her companion's train of thought.
""I wasn't mope- You mean you haven't even met him?" asked Kagome outraged.
"Well no, but he's a friend of Miroku's, so I'm sure he'll be fine."
Kagome blinked owlishly, thrown off when Sango complimented Miroku, however remotely. She was still unused to her friends' new relationship. For the most part, they argued the same as they always had, so it was a bit discomfiting when Sango said things like this out of the blue.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she glared at Sango for distracting her, even if it was unintentional.
"But you know what he used to be like!" she shuddered as she imagined having to fight off a date whose hands continually strayed towards her rear.
"Miroku wouldn't set you up with someone like that!" said Sango, offended for her boyfriend.
And Kagome knew she was right. The Miroku of the past might have thoughtlessly done so, but not now. Not after -
"Sorry." And this time she meant it.
"It's fine," Sango replied, albeit a bit stiffly, but continued in a more comforting tone. "Don't worry so much. It's just one date. You never have to see him again after this. Besides, what could it hurt?"
"My sanity," she shot back, but she was sufficiently pacified. She would be polite throughout dinner and leave as soon as possible. And if he so much as looked at her the wrong way he would soon be sporting a black eye.
She could do this.
Absorbed in her thoughts, Kagome only realized they had arrived when she was faced with the door. She started at it blankly, not taking in the restaurant's hours, or even its name.
She could do this, yes. She could have gone on a date at any time if she had wanted to. But she didn't want to. She wanted -
"Kagome," her friend's worried voice cut into her thoughts.
Despite her earlier convictions, the feeling of impending doom returned to her. This must be how a fox cornered by a pack of hounds felt. There was no way out.
After all, Sango-chan could run much faster than her.
Taking a calming breath (that didn't help her nerves at all), she pushed open the door.
To the tinkle of bells, Kagome Higurashi entered the unknown restaurant.
Author's Note
: So what did you think about my over-dramatic and psychotic story? Seriously... I want to know! And please tell me about any grammar or spelling errors you find. Since I don't have a beta reader I'm sure there's plenty of them.