Foolish Games

12/19/03

Sango is an unsuccessful songwriter, who is struggling to be discovered – by anyone. Miroku is a retired moffia leader, who has resided in the city to try to lead a normal life – with someone. Both have a past they would rather forget, but sharing an apartment, shouldn't they at least communicate?

M+S pairing, slight I+K, K+A, N+K, S+K, yah…

Rated PG-13 for some mature subject matter and maybe some language.

Up!

"Crap," another piece of paper was scrunched up into a ball and then skillfully tossed into the garbage can.

A pencil was chewed uncomfortably by its owner, as her fingernails drummed against the wooden surface of the floor.

"Sango-chan!" her voice was called.

She shifted her position to stand as she gathered up the loose pieces of paper and the stuck her pencil into her ponytail and hurried through the doorframe to greet her cousin; "yeah Koharu-chan?" she asked as she hung from the frame – leaning in.

"C'mon, the moving van is here!" she urged, her arms already full with cardboard boxes.

"Okay," she sighed in defeat as she rolled the pieces of paper into a funnel and then stuck them into the long denim pocket of her jeans.

Koharu shook her head as she followed Sango out of the house. "Why don't you just give up with the song thing Sango? It's just not for you." She nagged again.

"My mother could sit down and write amazing songs, so why can't I?" She retorted.

"You're not your mother, Sango. You're her daughter. Maybe it's just not in you to write songs. You definitely got your father's musical talent… minus the singing part." Koharu complimented her – then added the sarcastic comment.

"Gee, thanks Koharu." She rolled her eyes in annoyance to her cousin's sarcasm as she walked up the ramp into the truck.

"Anything Sango, anytime."

Sango placed the rest of the boxes down and then she walked back out to meet her cousin. Koharu was dressed in a plaid skirt and a white T-shirt; she honestly looked quite preppy.

"Well, I guess I'll see you when I see you." Sango sighed as she stuffed her hands into her windbreaker.

Koharu let out a silent sob and then hugged her cousin, bringing her down to her height. "Ack! Koharu, you know that you're shorter than me and sudden abrupt movements cause me to loose more back structure every time you do that." She said and then got out from her grasp and then rubbed the back of her neck; "owch"

"I'm going to miss not seeing you everyday now." Koharu blinked back more tears.

"Oh c'mon. It's unhealthy to share the same house with someone you know too well, of the same gender especially." Sango smirked.

"Oh you're going to just love Shakujo-sama, Sango! He's really quite the looker too." Koharu repeated.

"I'm not interested in having a boyfriend Koharu. I just want someone to help pay the rent." Sango also repeated once more.

"Which you can't afford." Koharu added

"Which you said he wouldn't mind paying my share or whatever I can spare."

"Yeah, he said that was fine."

"Good. That's all that matters right now."

"Sheesh!"

"What do you mean, "Sheesh"?" Sango asked

"Well look at you Taijiya Sango! Homeless, jobless, friendless, lookless-"

"Hey!"

"You're a tomboy!"

"So? It doesn't mean I'm not attractive."

"It means men will only like you because you're athletic."

"So?"

"Don't make me say it!"

"I don't need cleavage to attract males Koharu… or a tiny waist."

"You have it, you just don't show it."

"Neither do you."

"I have a boyfriend."

"And a job, a home… a family…"

Koharu waved good-bye as she drove away in her red sedan. Sango waved slightly and then turned her attention to the moving men who were all carrying her possessions up the stairs. Sango looked at the building of condos. Gz Koharu! I said an apartment! Not the most expensive condo in Tokyo! Sango bit her lip as she began to muse over how to pay her share of the rent.

Sango picked up the last two - the largest - boxes and then carried them up with ease, then after she set them down without so much as a grunt did she notice the workmen starring at her. "What? Never seen a girl carry her own stuff before?" she retorted and then they left.

She flopped down on the couch in exhaustion, moving was tough on the mind. She couldn't rid herself of the reason she had moved either.

Not that recently, her family had died in a trip up to go to her grandfather's funeral. Sango had stayed behind because of schoolwork, and now she was all alone. Except for her mystery roommate that Koharu was obviously gaga over, despite the obvious fact that she had a boyfriend.

Just then, she heard the doorknob rattle as it turned, and then door opened to make entrance for an attractive young man. He had dark ebony black hair, but gorgeous Persian blue eyes. He looked innocent enough for a nineteen-year-old – as Koharu had told her – but she knew looks could be deceiving.

"Hi," he smiled as he pushed in a carrier full of boxes.

"Hi," she stood to show respect and then walked over; "need any help?"

"No thanks." He held out a hand to her. "Shakujo Miroku."

"Taijiya Sango." She gave him her hand and he shook it.

"Well Sango, the pleasure is all mine." He smiled. Innocent enough she believed.

Miroku walked past her, but on his way he reached down and Sango felt his hand cupped under her buttox. She yelped in protest and then brought her hand in a full contact slap right across his face.

"Hey! Watch it Shakujo!" she glared daggers then stormed off over to the room on the right – which she now claimed as her own – and slammed the door shut behind her. He's a lecher… Kami, Koharu-chan what did you get me into?

Miroku and Sango finished unpacking, Miroku apologized, and Sango gave him, somewhat of, an apology, but she refused to communicate with him after that.

Later, Sango retired back to the couch with her guitar. She had a sheet of paper in front of her with a pencil close by. Miroku had left so she had taken advantage of his absence to try to create a new song.

She strummed the strings of her acoustic guitar and she because to scat, for she had no words for to accompany the music.

She was writing down some additional notes when the door burst open and Miroku strode in, with five girls close behind him, all giggling in a girlish manner and then they noticed Sango and they stopped.

"Oh, ladies, this is Taijiya Sango, my hard-to-get dorm partner. Don't mind her if she doesn't speak, she's a busy woman." Miroku told them and they resumed their foolish giggling.

Sango glared, nerved, as he took the women up to his side of the condo. What audacity does he think he has that he can just give away my name to a group of complete strangers? She gritted her teeth and she resumed to writing in the notes.

No sooner had she pressed the tip against the page did a shrill squeal irrupt from the room and she pressed harder then she had planned and broke the end. She looked at the broken pencil annoyed, and then glared at the door, where rap music was now booming out through the wooden door.

Even when she forced the palms of her hands to her ears did the sound not cease to enter her head. She got incredibly sick of the noise very quickly then she grabbed her guitar and paper and then left the apartment.

She found a flight of iron stairs and then found they led up, she followed them out onto the roof, where even the sound of the traffic down below could not reach. Sango sighed – peace at last.

She sat down where she resumed to play her guitar; she was humming contently to her music in substitution to the words. When words began to come she opened her mouth to break into song, but the creaking sound of the door behind her opening make her stop all movement as a strange chill ran up her spine.

Sango turned and saw a man with long dark hair standing there, with the doorknob still in hand. She blinked a few times at him and then found words to escape from her open mouth.

"Uh… hi"