*OLD AND NEW READERS, PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE MOVING ON*
Well, it's happening, finally. The first chapter of the new and improved "Falling". If you are coming here from my old story, you will notice some differences. Let me address them before you start reading, just to help avoid confusion. 1) Mika is older! Like, a lot older! I wrote that old fic when I was 15ish, so I definitely wanted to age her up. I would be so uncomfortable if I choose to keep her as a teen, as you know the tone of the fic. 2) Mika isn't as blatantly obnoxious as she was before! My personality has changed quite a bit, so the way I see Mika(originally a version of myself) has changed as well. She's still a foul mouthed, cocky bitch, just not as annoying. 3) Mika is completely, and unambiguously black this time around, not just half like myself. 4) This chapter only hints to the Inuyasha fandom! Yes, this chapter doesn't mention our favorite leading man just yet, as I've learned my lesson. I'm pacing myself with fics, keeping them at a limit of a few thousand words per chapter so I do not feel overwhelmed or pressured when writing. Next chapter will launch almost immediately into Feudal Japan.
Thank you for reading through this if you did! And please follow/fav for future updates, and review if ya wanna, even though not much is happening yet.
It's truly amazing just how quickly life can take a turn; whether that turn be for better, or for worse, it can happen in almost an instant. I've learned this in small measures throughout said life, but only recently did I understand just how fucked it could get when you're at your peak. Being knocked into a completely different path isn't an unusual milestone for college students like myself. However, getting knocked into a completely different time? Well, I think I've got everyone else beat on that.
At the risk of sounding cliche, hello, my name is Mika and this is my story. The story of how my life didn't just take a turn, it back-flipped off a fucking cliff.
Chapter 1
The campus library was blessedly quiet for a change. The hints of approaching summer were finally starting to chase the chill from the air, and many students were preferring to take advantage of the weather rather than remain cooped up inside. For me, that meant silence, something I valued but rarely received. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the sounds of daily life, but it can get overwhelming at times. Yesterday happened to be one of those times, when I had to finally admit to my coach that I was sick of volleyball; she was not happy.
What could I tell that burly, obsessively dedicated woman? That the training, matches, and games were taking up too much of my time? That I was just tired of all the events? That while being in this sport was fulfilling in a lot of ways, it didn't allow me the time to explore other parts of my life? Knowing full well that she wouldn't understand any of those reasons, seeing as she literally lived and breathed volleyball, I just kept it simple. "I don't want to do this anymore."
Remembering her usually red face becoming even redder had me wince in my seat. Remembering the confused faces of my teammates, however, just made me sigh. So, yes, the quiet library was a much needed reprieve, even though an unusually difficult paper was my reason for being there. Sighing heavily, I allowed myself to slump back in the comfortable, wooden armchair, looking around the large, empty space. A circular room, with many book shelves built into the walls, the center of this first floor saved for seating and tables. Looking up to the four other floors, visible from where I was sitting, all having secluded study rooms branched off for seating, more books, and the newest computers, I couldn't help but marvel at this cavernous library the way I have many times before.
Everything was lush, dark wood and richly colored fabric. The windows were all stained glass motifs of classical tales, the molding on the walls and doorways were intricate in detail. The university itself was very old, though the well-shaped center library had been standing the longest. I took another moment to admired its historic beauty before standing to stretch out my sore limbs. My earth shaking announcement yesterday came after a strenuous, two hour long training session(right after the end of last years official season, I might add), and my body was paying for not properly cooling down; didn't have much of a choice after practically being banished by coach Vasquez. Taking a quick scan of the room, and seeing that I was still alone, save the librarian, Mr. Peterson, who was occupied with his nap, I elegantly folded down to the floor to do some light stretching.
Usually, one wouldn't stretch while muscles weren't warmed up, but there had been a particular ache at my groin that I knew wouldn't fade for a while. My mind wandered as I fell into the stretch routine I had been doing for years. So many thoughts were swirling through my head, but mainly two events were leaving a pit in my stomach. One, I would have to tell my mother about dropping yet another extra curricular(The 3rd this semester.). She was not going to be happy, and I couldn't stop the mild recoil in my posture when her stern, disappointed face popped into my head. Two, an important annual fraternity ball was tomorrow, and in the two weeks since its announcement, no one asked me to go. I pouted slightly at remembering all of the shifty eyes, and abrupt turns by the boys I approached. I knew that I was fairly admired in the school, and the fact that literally no guy even tried asking, and seemed to go out of their way to avoid me was very weird.
Sighing into my butterfly stretch, I let that vain little thought drift away to focus on the aches and pains in my body. Those I could rely on at least; familiar, satisfying aches. However those aches also had the faces of my teammates flashing to life, and I groaned. Quitting volleyball didn't necessarily mean I was dropping my interests in sports all together, my inner voice whined. "Why can't I just not like things anymore after a time, that's normal", I huffed under my breath, sitting abruptly and jumping onto my feet from where I sat. My heavy braids swung around to slap my stomach, and I growled in frustration. Throwing them back over my shoulder, I decided three things then and there.
I was going to that ball, date or no date.
I was taking down these braids tonight, sleep be damned.
I was not going to tell my mother about volleyball until after the ball.
Stretching a bit, hands raised, I felt a few satisfying cracks, and turned to gather my things. This paper was going nowhere, and I had a head full of hair to take care of before the ball the next night. I hurried out of the quiet library, and headed into the busy campus courtyard. The trees were flowering, the grass was green, the sky clear, and the air was still a touch cool, but not too chilly. The day was lovely, and I couldn't help but inhale deeply as I walked briskly towards the dormitory buildings. Waving every now and again to classmates and friends, my mood lifted slightly with the gorgeous weather.
Passing the security guard at the entrance of the old dorm house, and bypassing the sketchy elevator in favor of the stairs, the past few days tensions were finally starting to melt from my shoulders; that is, until I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. Card-key in hand, I whipped out the iPhone to see who it was, and felt my stomach drop as I read "Mama Bear" on the screen. Well fuck, that's just my luck. Taking a steadying breath, I clicked answer, and prepared for the worst.
"Hey mama," I chirped happily, using my best bullshit tone to avoid giving her any suspicions to my actual mood. Without missing a beat, my mother answered, her familiar Southern drawl both comforting and intimidating.
"Hey baby, how you doin? You get my package?" I had to force myself to not drop to the ground in relief; she didn't know yet.
"Uh, no m'am, just got finished studying. At my dorm door now." I fumbled with my card-key, "But I haven't checked my mail in a while, I'll head down now." I heard laughter in the background, and recognized the voice.
"Alright baby, make sure you go quick, I don't want you losin what I sent." Cue the mental eye-roll, because my mother would have some how sensed it if I actually rolled my eyes. "Your auntie Mel says 'hi'," her voice went soft with fondness, and I couldn't help but giggle. "Auntie" Mel stumbled her way into my mothers life five years after my fathers sudden death, and this year would make 5 years of her staying put since. I was always grateful to the tall woman for pulling my mother out of her seemingly endless grief.
"Tell her I said 'hi' too, and don't worry, I won't let them lose it." I chuckled lightly, jumping down the stairs and landing with a air of grace. The mail room for my dorm was in the basement, so I had the habit of avoiding it. Despite the schools best efforts to make it warmer, more inviting, it was still just some creepy basement with a miserable clerk. My mother chattered away about her day at the dance studio as I walked down the darkened hall of the basement. Her voice like a light in the damp shadowy corners, allowing me to push fear aside and focus on my destination. I managed a laugh when she ranted about a rich parent insisting on his daughters talent in ballet, and my mothers response on how "a goose cannot become a swan".
The mail room was behind a heavy steel door, and it gave an even stronger sense of malevolence to the space. But I hurriedly pushed forward into the room, greeting the clerk behind the small desk quietly, and practically skipped to my mail cubby. "Alright, I'm about to check," I muttered uselessly, as my mother kept chattering away, now with steady input from Mel. Unlocking the little door of cubby, a small sneer graced my features at the absolute inane amount of junk mail stuffed inside. What a waste of paper, I grumbled into the phone, making my mother chuckle. A small key was placed on a student coupon booklet, and I took it in hand before shoving the papers into my bag, and re-locking the locker.
The one sided conversation between my mother and I had turned into me listening to her and Mel debating about something, and I couldn't help my smile, even when the frumpy clerk glared at me as I approached her desk. "Can I help you," she was either just getting over a cold, or had the most annoying voice in the world, but either way, the older woman looked like she'd rather be anywhere but there.
"Uh, I received a package?" I mumbled, handing her the key, and trying to ignore her gnarled finger nails, "for Mika Stark, locker 48." For a few uncomfortable moments, all the woman did was give me a dead eyed stare, and I started to worry that she was dead on her feet. Yelping slightly as she suddenly spun and rushed to one of the giant, locked cabinets meant for packages, I heard my mother worriedly ask what was wrong. However, before I could answer, the woman shoved a medium sized box into my arms. "Hold on mom," I balanced the box to hold my phone with my shoulder, and made my way to the door. "Uh, I'm sorry, could you...?" I looked back at the woman, and felt my blood freeze when I saw her face. "N-never mind!"
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I practically tore the door open and ran down the hall. What the hell was that? I didn't stop running until I was back at my dorm door, panting and gasping, out of breath and full of an odd sense of dread. Clicking the digital lock with my key, and tossed the box onto my bed and flopped into my desk chair. I almost forgot I had been on the phone before it vibrated again, nearly shooting out of my skin at the feeling. "Mama?"
"Honey, did we lose connection? Are you alright?" the usually stern, confident woman sounded worried, and I felt terrible.
"Yes, mama. I just, I thought I saw something in the basement, and scared myself a little." I gave my best reassuring chuckle, but it fell flat. When I turned and saw that mail clerks face, it was... not natural. When I looked back, she looked almost demonic. It could have been a trick of the light, but I swore her face has been warped, her teeth sharp, and her eye pitch black. I shook my head, trying to dispel the image as my mother replied.
"Oh honey, don't scare me like that." I heard May comment in the background as I sat on the bed next to the package. "Now, open it! I got you some of the things you said you been needing." I smiled as I turned my phone to speaker, grabbed the desk scissors and sliced into the pretty rainbow tape I had only just noticed. "While I still don't understand why you insist on usin them, I commissioned a friend of mine to make you some of those cloth pads you like."
As she spoke, I removed the pretty packing paper, and saw the adorable menstrual items. "Oh wow, these are so much cuter than the ones I tried to make," she agreed and laughed outright, probably recalling me at 15, proudly holding up the first pad I tried to sew myself. My hands in shambles as I had no idea how to stitch fabric together. "Jeez mom, how many did you ask her to make," I counted 30, which was more than I needed, and more than I currently had.
"Just say thank you, and look at the rest," she huffed, but sounded pleased. And look I did, pulling out two identical sketch books(my favorite brand), a fresh pack of artist pencils, a new Lunette cup, a gorgeous pair of wooden combs(one wide-tooth, one rat tail), and finally a small, wooden box. Curious, I picked the lovely little thing up, smoothing my palm over the wood. Flower petals of some sort were expertly carved into its top and sides, with a long oval, branded seal in the middle of the lid; the characters in the oval appeared to be Japanese, but I wasn't sure. Along its seam, a white paper seemed to have the box tapped shut. More characters met my eyes, thought they looked different from the branded seal. "What's the little box?" I asked, eyes still affixed to the beautiful, but old looking wood.
"Well, funny story." mother sounded off, voice muffled over the speaker. "Mel and I had been goin through your dads old storage shed," the mention of my father finally had my attention, and I placed the phone back to my ear, reclined onto my pillows, and kept the box in hand. "You know how your father was, a little clutter bug. Keeping everythin given to him on his travels, whether it was garbage or not." She huffed, and I smiled. My father did keep almost everything when he was alive. I still remember right after his funeral, discovering a box of every single drawing I had ever given to him hidden in his closet. I cried over the well filed, laminated pieces for over an hour. All of them dated and timed, with little notes on the empty spaces detailing how I presented them to him, and what story was behind each drawing.
My heart felt heavy at the thought of my father, but I kept my composure as my mother continued. "I thought I'd be able to throw some of that shit away, but I didn't have the heart," Mel laughed loudly in the background, proving that my mother did in fact have the heart to throw away the junk in the storage container, she just didn't have the time. "So, we just went through most of it to find something of value. That's when I found that lil wooden box," my eyes refocused on the cube in my hand, "inside another box that had your name on it. I'm assuming he wanted to give it to you, so I sent it." I could have laughed, my mother was so practical. It could have been a hidden vial of some ancient disease, but if it had your name on it, it was yours.
"Was there anything else for me?" I swung my legs over the side of my bed, placing the box on my nightstand, and standing to gather my combs.
"No, just that. Now open it up, and tell me what it is!" as she finished, I heard a clanging crash, followed by Mel's howling laughter. "Shit, Mel! Get the towels! I gotta go, baby. That damn cat of yours just knocked down my stock pot!" helpless laughter escaped me to match Mel's, and I tried to choke out my "I love you and good bye"s to my cursing mother. Lucy was always causing trouble, even when I happen to be around. I checked my clock; yep, 5:30pm here meant noon back in Hawaii, and I was sure she forgot to feed my little devil on time. Another cackle filled my room as I plopped into my seat to start taking down my braids.
Playing music on my phone, I began the finger cramping business of unraveling my hair, making use of the finer-tooth comb my mother sent me. My mind wandered as my hands worked, but my eyes kept drifting back to the box. Finally, after taking down half a headful of braids, I gave in and snatched it up from the desk top. I wasn't sure why I felt so reluctant to open it, though, I did know that part of it was because my father really did keep anything people gave to him while he was still a travel photographer. This little box could hold something dangerous for all I knew, only addressed to me because it was pretty, and he knew I enjoyed pretty things.
Reaching over to my bed for the scissors, I ran my thumb across the paper sealing the box shut, having a mental argument with whether or not I should open it. Eventually, curiosity won over caution, and I sliced it quickly. As I ran the blade along the edge, a tingle ran up my spine. I flicked my wrist to cut the last side, when suddenly the box pulsed strongly in my hand. Startled, I dropped it and jumped from my chair, eyes zeroed in to where it fell. "You're going crazy, Mika," I muttered, trying to convince myself that whatever the hell just happened was in my head.
Another pulse burst from the box, stronger this time, and shimmering pink light escaped the sliced edges of the box. The glow hit my body like a wave, solid on impact, knocking me to the floor. A gasp escaped me as I sat back up to stare at the box again, mind yelling for my to run, but my body staying glued to the spot. My body was painfully tense, waiting for the next weird fucking thing to happen, when the someone knocked on my door. I shrieked before slapping a hand over my mouth, closing my eyes, and forcing myself to breathe. Calm down, calm down, get up and check to see who it is. Stop acting like an idiot.
At the second set of knocks, I stood up, reluctantly toed the box under the bed, and quickly twisted my half-done hair into a low bun. "Who is it," I called out, hand and ear pressed to the door. A masculine voice answered from the other side, and the whole day was swept from my mind. I coolly opened the door, forcing myself not to tear it from the hinges, not wanting to humiliate myself in front of my guest. Leaning in the doorway in all his glory, the golden boy of the university, and the leader of the fraternity hosting tomorrows ball: Sky fucking Peterson.
I took in his drop dead gorgeous face; sport tanned skin, bright green eyes, and an incredible smile. Jeez, this guy oozed charm and sex, and I could feel myself leaning in to get a better whiff of his spicy cologne. Adorned in a tight fraternity sweatshirt(hello muscles), and equally tight basketball shorts(helloooo bulge), I couldn't help but openly ogle the football player as he watched with a cocky grin. I knew he was checking me out as well, I was an equally impressive athlete with an equally attractive physique. My tight, dark blue calf-length leggings and matching, long-sleeved rash-guard did nothing to hide the body underneath, and he made that obvious.
For those few passing moments, we were just two strong, lusty magnets, drawn to each other before an actual conversation took place. After another breath, I managed to pull back and a slow, sultry smile, cocking my hip and head in the same fluid movement. "How can I help you, Mr. Peterson?" My voice had dropped a pitch, going from standard alto to sex kitten husky. The tall frat boy's grin turned into a full blown smirk, and I felt my heart flutter at his filthy expression. I then realized why all of his fraternity brothers had been avoiding me and why none of them asked me to the ball; Sky called dibs. Would've been nice to know at the beginning so we could have coordinated our outfits, but I definitely was not complaining.
"Wanted to drop by to give you this," he flicked his wrist out from his crossed arms to present me with the invitation I had been waiting for. "Didn't want you worrying about not having a date, I'm taking you." Whew, the cockiness would probably turn off most, but I enjoyed it. It was annoying, but sexy, and the air-headed side of my mind was swooning.
I took the invitation, grazing his rough hands as my fingers gripped the card, and flicked my eyes to gaze into his. "Of course," I murmured, low, sweet and full of promise. His eyes hooded then, smile dropping slightly to slick his tongue over his teeth absentmindedly. "What color dress should I wear?" I asked, snapping him out of the trance, and smirking when he had to blink the lust from his eyes.
"Black, keep it tight." I giggled as he popped his hip off the doors frame, uncrossing his arms, "meet me in the parking lot at 9 tomorrow night." My curiosity peaked, and he explained, "This year we're hosting the ball at a nightclub. My father owns it, maybe I'll give you a personal tour." He grinned again, eyebrows raised suggestively, causing another burst of girlish giggles. "Don't be late," winking, the sexy jock sauntered down the hall, and I watched every second of it.
"Wow, he has a great ass," a sigh escaped me, and I leaned on my now closed door. "Okay, now I definitely need to prep." And with the days oddities slipping from my mind, I walked to my wardrobe to shake out the tight, black velvet, thin-strapped bodycon dress I had purchased a week ago. Its hem was just below mid thigh, with a sexy slit to run up the leg. "'Keep it tight", right?" I smirked, turn to lay the dress on my bed next to the pile of gifts from my mother. "Hm, I'm gonna have to wash these soon." My eyes scanned the room from a place to put the things, and landed on my duffel bag. I figured after a weekend of getting absolutely slammed(in every meaning of the word), I could stop by the campus laundromat to wash the pads.
Shaking the bag, I lazily swiped everything inside before prepping for my weekend fun. All the while, the box sat silent and forgotten under the bed.
SMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSMSM
The next night had finally arrived. My hair was braided in two thick plaits, their length falling to my hips, little gold hair jewelry placed attractively throughout. I admired my reflection, running my hands up the velvet that clung to my curves. My golden brown skin glowed from a vigorous scrub down that morning, and a very generous amount of shea butter(which made it's home in the overnight duffel). I kept my makeup very light-mainly focused on trying to control my ridiculously thick brows-, though my face remained bare, not wanting to cover my beauty marks or natural shine; no mascara, as I was allergic.
I had attempted to struggle my way into heels, failing miserably at walking more than two steps, and opting for a pair of matching velvet skate shoes. "Not too bad," my voice was light as I applied a clear gloss to my full lips, giving myself one last, long look in the mirror. I took a full step back, arms crossing, and went over my mental checklist for the next few nights. Sure that I had everything I'd need, I picked up my earrings, only to curse under my breath as one slipped from my well moisturized hands. "Damn, where did you go?" my eyes searched the tiles and little throw rug, and saw it by the bed.
Annoyed and sighing, I bent to pick the little gold moon, only to freeze as the previous afternoons events came rushing back. The box, shit how did I forget about it? It sat on its side, just under the bed, quiet and inconspicuous, but I wasn't about to be fooled. Eyes squinting with suspicion, I rallied the courage to reach out for the box. I couldn't help the flinched as my fingers grazed the wood, expecting it to explode, and a sigh of relief left me when nothing happened. Standing with the box in hand, I took a step back to fall into my chair.
"What are you, hm? Some sort of magic trick thing?" of course, it did not answer my question, and a self-deprecating laugh escaped me. "Okay, I'm not about to be afraid of a fucking piece of wood," and with that false bravado, I flipped the lid open. Only to have my jaw drop at the sight of what was inside. It was... a necklace? A rope of moonstone, a silver clasp, and the jewel; I've never seen anything like it. The air around the pink gem seemed to shimmer, the inner light of it throwing a pink hue across my skin.
A perfectly smooth sphere, no cracks or blemishes in sight. Where did my father get this from? I thought to myself, It's obviously very valuable. Carefully taking the moonstone lined chain in hand, my eyes stayed on the soft pink stone as I stood and walked to my mirror. My hands shook as I unclasped the necklace, maneuvering it under my braids, and letting it rest on my chest just above my breasts. "Wow," I murmured dreamily. My posture and mood were completely relaxed, not changing even as the gem released a gentle, humming pulse. Having the gem around my neck felt... right.
I could see the rosy glow reflect from my whiskey colored eyes, and all I could do was smile. This necklace was beautiful; thanks, Daddy! The spell was broken when my phone went off with a text alert, and I suddenly remembered that I should have been walking to meet with Sky a while ago. Jumping into action, I grabbed my duffel and purse, and bolted out the door. The jewel tapped lightly against my skin as I lightly jogged to the parking lot, once again quiet and inconspicuous.
Thank you for reading the first chapter! I am going to be updating once a week, so please hit follow if you'd like to read more!