Running With Scissors
Disclaimer – I don't own Inuyasha or the play "Running With Scissors". Just this fic. Oh well.
Author's Note – HIII! I'm back with a new, terrible work of art for you people! =D This is based loosely off of the play, "Running With Scissors", that my friend Liz saw and told me about. Cute story — enjoy!
Character guide:
Inuyasha Ikeda – main character; a quiet, subdued young man who is afraid to take risks in life, and is also dying of leukemia.
Kagome Higurashi – the proprietor of a run-down inn who is caring for her dying grandfather; a poor girl trying to manage her grandfather and her business at the same time
Kouga Yamazaki – the only employee at Kagome's inn; he fancies Kagome and dislikes Inuyasha almost immediately
Miroku "Death" Kikuchi – literally, Death; he is the one who is supposed to take Inuyasha's life; a wise-cracking, punk-ish pervert
Sango "Love" Hiraki – literally, Love; she is the one who controls all of the world's love, and also wishes for Inuyasha to suck it up, take a risk, and admit his feelings for Kagome; and Love is blind – literally.
REVIEW, DAMMIT!
On with the show!
***
Chapter One – Playing It Safe
***
Inuyasha Ikeda has never been in love; he's always played it safe. He followed the rules, always coloured in the lines, and never once ran with scissors.
It was always Inuyasha's dream to become a writer, but that was too risky. He took the logical route and became an editor instead – editors make a steady salary and don't ever end up living in cardboard boxes, right?
And so, Inuyasha buried his passion of writing for good, and he never dug it up . . .
Until the day Death came . . .
~
Leukemia.
The word rang through his mind as he pulled to a stop on the red light. He shifted his gaze to the car window, seeing his own scared, tired reflection staring back at him. It was at this time he noticed how ill he seemed to be; his long, black hair that usually shone was now looking dull and limp, and his brilliant violet eyes were heavy with a lack of sleep and a glint of fear.
The light changed to green and Inuyasha turned the corner, in the opposite direction of his house. He drove a few more blocks and at last found himself on a wide, empty dirt road. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head a bit, trying to collect his thoughts.
"Dr. Kaede said I only have six months," he murmured to himself with a frown. "Only six more months . . ."
He glanced out the window again, tumbleweeds brushing past the edges of the road, gusts of wind sending grains of dirt and sand hurtling against the car windows and doors.
Turning his eyes back to the windshield, he blinked. Skidding to a halt, he narrowed his eyes, peering through the tinted glass at the figure ahead.
A tall, shadowy young man stood a few feet away from the car. His dark black hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, and he was clad in a long black shirt and baggy black jeans. Silver chains hung on either side of his waist, and he was clutching a long, staff-like object that had a thin, sharp blade attached to the end of it, the silver colour flashing in the afternoon sun.
The figure lifted his free hand and jerked his thumb in the direction that Inuyasha's car was facing. He grinned at him, approaching the car swiftly.
Inuyasha gulped, slowly rolling down the window so as to speak to him.
"M-may I help you?"
"I hope so," the young man said, a most peculiar grin plastered on his smooth face. "You goin' my way or not?" He jerked his thumb again.
A nervous expression passed Inuyasha's face, and he hesitantly unlocked the door.
"I-I guess so . . . you need a ride?"
"Sure do," the man said, his grin widening as he opened the door to the passenger side, clambering inside. With a jolt of fear, Inuyasha noticed that the man locked the door after he'd climbed in.
The man chuckled sarcastically at Inuyasha's expression.
"Can never be too safe, now, can we?"
Inuyasha shook his head, twitching. "No . . . I guess not." He cleared his throat, starting the car again with shaking hands. "M-my name is — "
"Inuyasha Ikeda," he finished for him, grinning again.
Inuyasha's violet eyes widened again and the car screeched to a halt once more.
"H-how the HELL did you know that?!"
The man simply grinned at him again. "Well, I've just been told that you're supposed to die in six months. And everyone who's dying, I know about . . .
You seem so afraid, Inuyasha. I'm sorry. Allow me to introduce myself. Miroku Kikuchi, A.K.A. Death, at your service. And I'm terribly sorry to inform you that six months is coming a bit sooner than you think."
Disclaimer – I don't own Inuyasha or the play "Running With Scissors". Just this fic. Oh well.
Author's Note – HIII! I'm back with a new, terrible work of art for you people! =D This is based loosely off of the play, "Running With Scissors", that my friend Liz saw and told me about. Cute story — enjoy!
Character guide:
Inuyasha Ikeda – main character; a quiet, subdued young man who is afraid to take risks in life, and is also dying of leukemia.
Kagome Higurashi – the proprietor of a run-down inn who is caring for her dying grandfather; a poor girl trying to manage her grandfather and her business at the same time
Kouga Yamazaki – the only employee at Kagome's inn; he fancies Kagome and dislikes Inuyasha almost immediately
Miroku "Death" Kikuchi – literally, Death; he is the one who is supposed to take Inuyasha's life; a wise-cracking, punk-ish pervert
Sango "Love" Hiraki – literally, Love; she is the one who controls all of the world's love, and also wishes for Inuyasha to suck it up, take a risk, and admit his feelings for Kagome; and Love is blind – literally.
REVIEW, DAMMIT!
On with the show!
***
Chapter One – Playing It Safe
***
Inuyasha Ikeda has never been in love; he's always played it safe. He followed the rules, always coloured in the lines, and never once ran with scissors.
It was always Inuyasha's dream to become a writer, but that was too risky. He took the logical route and became an editor instead – editors make a steady salary and don't ever end up living in cardboard boxes, right?
And so, Inuyasha buried his passion of writing for good, and he never dug it up . . .
Until the day Death came . . .
~
Leukemia.
The word rang through his mind as he pulled to a stop on the red light. He shifted his gaze to the car window, seeing his own scared, tired reflection staring back at him. It was at this time he noticed how ill he seemed to be; his long, black hair that usually shone was now looking dull and limp, and his brilliant violet eyes were heavy with a lack of sleep and a glint of fear.
The light changed to green and Inuyasha turned the corner, in the opposite direction of his house. He drove a few more blocks and at last found himself on a wide, empty dirt road. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head a bit, trying to collect his thoughts.
"Dr. Kaede said I only have six months," he murmured to himself with a frown. "Only six more months . . ."
He glanced out the window again, tumbleweeds brushing past the edges of the road, gusts of wind sending grains of dirt and sand hurtling against the car windows and doors.
Turning his eyes back to the windshield, he blinked. Skidding to a halt, he narrowed his eyes, peering through the tinted glass at the figure ahead.
A tall, shadowy young man stood a few feet away from the car. His dark black hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, and he was clad in a long black shirt and baggy black jeans. Silver chains hung on either side of his waist, and he was clutching a long, staff-like object that had a thin, sharp blade attached to the end of it, the silver colour flashing in the afternoon sun.
The figure lifted his free hand and jerked his thumb in the direction that Inuyasha's car was facing. He grinned at him, approaching the car swiftly.
Inuyasha gulped, slowly rolling down the window so as to speak to him.
"M-may I help you?"
"I hope so," the young man said, a most peculiar grin plastered on his smooth face. "You goin' my way or not?" He jerked his thumb again.
A nervous expression passed Inuyasha's face, and he hesitantly unlocked the door.
"I-I guess so . . . you need a ride?"
"Sure do," the man said, his grin widening as he opened the door to the passenger side, clambering inside. With a jolt of fear, Inuyasha noticed that the man locked the door after he'd climbed in.
The man chuckled sarcastically at Inuyasha's expression.
"Can never be too safe, now, can we?"
Inuyasha shook his head, twitching. "No . . . I guess not." He cleared his throat, starting the car again with shaking hands. "M-my name is — "
"Inuyasha Ikeda," he finished for him, grinning again.
Inuyasha's violet eyes widened again and the car screeched to a halt once more.
"H-how the HELL did you know that?!"
The man simply grinned at him again. "Well, I've just been told that you're supposed to die in six months. And everyone who's dying, I know about . . .
You seem so afraid, Inuyasha. I'm sorry. Allow me to introduce myself. Miroku Kikuchi, A.K.A. Death, at your service. And I'm terribly sorry to inform you that six months is coming a bit sooner than you think."