Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha...yet. *sinister grin*
Author Note: This is my first fic so if the spacing or html is screwed up,
I apologize in advance. How do u make text italic anyway? I tried using
the tags but they just screwed up! Anyway, hope you enjoy this fic! Btw,
before anyone asks, Kikyo might be in this fic (I haven't decided yet) but
if she is, she will not in any way be romantically attracted to Inu, nor
will she be evil. Just telling you in advance (I know a lot of people want
to see her head on a silver platter).
Chapter 1
Catastrophe at the Coffeehouse
~*~*~
The bright city lights shone with extra excitement, as if purposely turned up brighter to tick off sleeping civilians. Taxis whizzed down the streets, the drivers screaming and flipping each other off at random intervals. People with clothing that consisted of anything from fuzzy cat ears to business suits were strolling casually down the road, oblivious to the chaos surrounding them. They were so used to the city that the offensive noise hardly even bothered them.
A teenaged girl with raven black hair that cascaded halfway down her back and soft brown eyes sat on an unmade bed, a melancholy expression resting in her eyes. Of all the places she could have chosen to live, she had to choose the liveliest, most annoying one of them all. She had left her comfortable suburban life in Tokyo for America, a choice which she didn't regret. What she did regret, however, was choosing New York City as her destination.
She got off of the four poster bed and shoved her few brown leather suitcases into a tiny, dusty closet. 'Moving,' she mused, 'is highly overrated'. She had expected exciting new beginnings, but so far all she had endured were delayed flights, lost baggage, and very grumpy doormen. Yep, exciting new beginnings indeed.
She went into her 'never before used' bathroom for a nice hot shower, only to find a large black bra draped over her toilet seat. "Well," she remarked dryly. "I never knew the toilet was so modest". She gingerly picked up the distasteful article and tossed it into a wastebasket. She'd throw it onto some unsuspecting doorman later for revenge.
After a nice, hot shower, she changed into a pair of light blue pajamas and sat on her windowsill. 'Wow,' she thought. 'A year ago, if you had ever asked me if I'd be sitting in New York City in a newly purchased apartment of my very own, I would've thrown a shoe at you'.
She sighed, kicked off her slippers, and scurried into her "comfortable" bed. After snuggling into the stiff sheets, she felt something crawl across her arm, tickling her skin. She flicked it off absently, thinking it was a fly, when suddenly she saw a huge cockroach go flying across her bed.
Jumping up with a mangled squeak, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find which, ironically, happened to be a shoe. After hurling it at the unwanted insect, she inspected her bed for some family and friends. Finding nothing, she once again snuggled into her blankets, and let sleep consume her tired and abused body.
~*~
A young girl sat at her desk, absently daydreaming about god knows what. Suddenly a shot rang through the entire house, causing it to shake. The girl snapped out of her thoughts immediately, just in time to hear the scream of pain and anguish from below. She ran down the stairs, gripping the walls as she ran. The sight she saw below her would forever be engraved in her memory.
A man was standing over her mother with a gun. Blood gathered in puddles around the woman, whose screams had long since ceased. The man was grinning with malice when he suddenly noticed the girl glaring at him.
"You'll pay for this!" the girl yelled with such fury she never knew could be a part of her usually sweet voice. She jumped at the man, hardly caring about the consequences, when he suddenly pulled her into a hug.
"Let me go!" she screamed, her fists pounding against his chest.
"I'm sorry that you had to see this Kagome, but this is the way it has to be".
"What the...,"she began. "Let go of me!"
The man gave a grin. "Kagome," he began.
The girl finally pulled out of his grasp long enough to heave a heavy punch at him. "What are you gonna pull next?" I responded coldly. "I am your father?" her voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Actually," he continued. "I am".
"EXCUSE ME?" the girl roared. "How DARE you insult me like this! My father died a long time ago! I've been living alone with my mother for 15 years! How dare you insult my father's name!" she lunged at him, attempting to rid herself of the murderer once and for all.
The man laughed dryly, holding her back with a mere hand.. "I always wondered what your mother led you to believe. I knew she wouldn't have the heart to tell you the truth".
The girl decided to play along, it wouldn't hurt to get some information before she killed him.
"What truth?" she asked angrily, her teeth clenched in rage.
"Your father never died. He left your pathetic excuse for a mom a long time ago for someone he truly loved. Your mother never accepted that I wasn't going to run back to her like the flea bitten asshole she was. Whenever I came home with divorce papers, she just threw them in my face. I figured there was only one way to get what I wanted, and that was to rid myself of her". He shrugged. "I didn't have a choice. Blame your mother for getting herself into this mess".
"You're lying". She said simply.
He shook his head. "Nope, not lying. You want proof?" The girl nodded angrily. "All right, I'll give you proof. He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a rumpled piece of paper. The girl stared at it disbelievingly, her eyes clouding over with confusion and anger.
It was her birth certificate.
"WHY do you have that?"
"Again, I'm your father," he stated simply. "I figured I might run into you here, I knew I needed something to prove it was really me".
"Blame my MOTHER? For what, loving you?" she exploded. "Why exactly did you run off in the first place? Because you found some girl in a bar who had a better ass? Is that it you mother fucking slimeball?" she screamed. She didn't know what had come over her, the worst thing she had ever called anyone was "craphead", and that wasn't even a real insult.
The man grinned wryly. "Temper, temper," he admonished. "The reason I ran off wasn't anything like that, I assure you. If you must know, your mom had her secrets too".
"What, she snored in her sleep or something?" she screeched.
A pained look crossed the man's face for a second. "Yes, that and while I was away my business trip to Africa years ago, she was away on a pleasure trip to clubs. A different one every night it seems. And let's just say she made "good use" of her time there".
Suddenly the girl felt more fury inside her that she had ever felt in my life. "How dare you," the girl began softly. "My mother was a fine woman. She has never done anything of that sort in her life".
He snorted. "Believe what you want Kags," he saw her flinch at the nickname. "It's all true. Look, I'm sorry I ran out on you. I'm sorry we never got to know each other". His hand cupped her cheek and for a moment, the girl swore she could see sorrow in his eyes. Suddenly she realized what was happening and slapped him hard across the face. "You make me retch," she stated simply. Then she turned and fled, never once looking back at the life she had grown up in.
~*~
Kagome sat up straight in her bed, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks. Her eyes widened for a moment as she blinked the unwanted tears away. "I should have known," she said dryly. "Sleeping is never safe". She glanced at her digital clock, one of the few things she had brought with her on her trip. After seeing that it was just early enough for breakfast, the girl slipped on her usual ensemble, which consisted of a short green skirt, a white top with a red tie around the neck, and knee high white socks. She grabbed her green purse and unceremoniously threw it over her shoulder as she left her messy apartment.
She politely thanked the elevator attendant and briskly walked toward the door of her apartment building. After attracting some rather odd looks from three doormen in a row, her anger finally got the better of her. "A picture is worth a thousand words," she said dryly. She was aware that she didn't know anything of American fashion but really, must they rub it in her face? The doormen, realizing they had been caught, quickly looked away, an innocent expression on their faces.
Realizing what a bad mood she was in, she walked toward the coffee shop, hoping a good frappacino would calm her down. She had found the place yesterday when her taxi driver who, surprisingly, was somewhat friendly, had pointed it out to her. She pushed open the door of the cozy coffeehouse and heard a little bell jingle in the background as she stepped inside. She nonchalantly stepped up to the counter and ordered her favorite, a mocha frappacino. She could already feel the sweet taste on her tongue as it cascaded down her throat. A now rare grin lit up her face. She was standing in the middle of unknown territory, new adventures all around her. She decided to try her best to quit moping, and flashed a smile as she accepted the drink from the cashier.
"Thanks!" she shouted over her shoulder, her voice layered with a thick Japanese accent. She decided to try her best to get rid of it as soon as she could. The more she could blend in, the better. After all, the easier she fit in, the easier it would be to forget that she didn't.
She sat herself down at an empty table and began to let the mocha goodness seep into her mouth. Anybody who knew her knew that she was never to be interrupted while drinking mocha. After downing the whole glass in about three sips, she opened her eyes and glanced around the shop. An old couple stood in the back, quietly sipping hot chocolate and muttering to each other. A teenaged boy sat in a corner muttering to himself, and she made a mental note to steer clear of him seeing as he looked like he owned a piercing parlor.
Suddenly the door swung open and another teenaged boy came running in. He looked a little off to her, but then again, she realized, she probably looked 'a little off' to everyone in this city. The boy had long silver hair that cascaded down his back, but the top of it was covered by a baseball cap. His eyes were a light amber brown, and Kagome was sure she had never seen eyes quite like his before. They seemed to be searching around the room, looking for something. When his eyes found hers they lit up for a moment, and he rushed to sit in the chair across from her.
Just as Kagome was about to speak up, the boy beat her to it. "Pretend like you know me," he hissed. Kagome was about to decide against it, but decided a good scheme was just what she needed. She nodded.
The door swung open again and two men with cameras ran in. Kagome realized that the boy must be hiding from these men, they looked like paparazzi. Was this guy famous or something?
"Say something bitch," he commanded her, flicking nervous glances at the men.
Her eyes narrowed. How dare he insult someone he'd never met? Suddenly she got an idea. Her eyes lit up mischievously and she gazed at the boy intently.
"I'm sorry sir," she began. "But really, how many times do I have to tell you? I do NOT sell myself!" she practically shouted the last part. Several people stared at the young woman for a moment.
"Look, you've been following me around for a week trying to get me to go to bed with you, and frankly, I'm sick of it! I don't even know you!" the boy stared at her in shock, then opened his mouth to say something, but Kagome silenced him. "I don't want to know how much you'll pay me, I've heard nothing but "69 cents a minute" for the last week! And no, I don't care to see your underwear again, though I must admit that the pink hearts are rather stylish".
The boy gaped at her with an open mouth. You could see shock radiating across his amber eyes, soon to be replaced by fury. Three choices were running through his head. Kill her, maim her, or get revenge. Seeing as he didn't want the electric chair, he opted for the third choice.
He rolled his eyes at her exaggeratedly. "You were drinking again last night weren't you bitch? You're totally wasted!" he gave a sigh. "So who did you wake up with this time? The old guy in Apartment 4B or that fat girl who keeps trying to hit on you? I'm personally opting for the fat chick, her and you have so much in common" he finished. The people in the shop were staring with open mouths, not believing what they had just heard. Even the paparazzi seemed frozen, and he was sure he heard the phrase 'lousy kids' coming from somewhere in the room. Even the punked out guy in the corner had lost his cool long enough to stare at the two in silence.
He grinned cockily as he watched her cheeks turn a lovely shade of red. Suddenly she got up and, with an abrupt turn, briskly walked out the door. She knew she wouldn't be seeing the inside of that particular coffeehouse anytime soon. With a sigh of dismay, she headed home, groaning inwardly. NOW where would she get mocha?
A/N: Well, there's chapter 1! Hope ya like it, I'll try to get Chapter 2 out by Tuesday!
Chapter 1
Catastrophe at the Coffeehouse
~*~*~
The bright city lights shone with extra excitement, as if purposely turned up brighter to tick off sleeping civilians. Taxis whizzed down the streets, the drivers screaming and flipping each other off at random intervals. People with clothing that consisted of anything from fuzzy cat ears to business suits were strolling casually down the road, oblivious to the chaos surrounding them. They were so used to the city that the offensive noise hardly even bothered them.
A teenaged girl with raven black hair that cascaded halfway down her back and soft brown eyes sat on an unmade bed, a melancholy expression resting in her eyes. Of all the places she could have chosen to live, she had to choose the liveliest, most annoying one of them all. She had left her comfortable suburban life in Tokyo for America, a choice which she didn't regret. What she did regret, however, was choosing New York City as her destination.
She got off of the four poster bed and shoved her few brown leather suitcases into a tiny, dusty closet. 'Moving,' she mused, 'is highly overrated'. She had expected exciting new beginnings, but so far all she had endured were delayed flights, lost baggage, and very grumpy doormen. Yep, exciting new beginnings indeed.
She went into her 'never before used' bathroom for a nice hot shower, only to find a large black bra draped over her toilet seat. "Well," she remarked dryly. "I never knew the toilet was so modest". She gingerly picked up the distasteful article and tossed it into a wastebasket. She'd throw it onto some unsuspecting doorman later for revenge.
After a nice, hot shower, she changed into a pair of light blue pajamas and sat on her windowsill. 'Wow,' she thought. 'A year ago, if you had ever asked me if I'd be sitting in New York City in a newly purchased apartment of my very own, I would've thrown a shoe at you'.
She sighed, kicked off her slippers, and scurried into her "comfortable" bed. After snuggling into the stiff sheets, she felt something crawl across her arm, tickling her skin. She flicked it off absently, thinking it was a fly, when suddenly she saw a huge cockroach go flying across her bed.
Jumping up with a mangled squeak, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find which, ironically, happened to be a shoe. After hurling it at the unwanted insect, she inspected her bed for some family and friends. Finding nothing, she once again snuggled into her blankets, and let sleep consume her tired and abused body.
~*~
A young girl sat at her desk, absently daydreaming about god knows what. Suddenly a shot rang through the entire house, causing it to shake. The girl snapped out of her thoughts immediately, just in time to hear the scream of pain and anguish from below. She ran down the stairs, gripping the walls as she ran. The sight she saw below her would forever be engraved in her memory.
A man was standing over her mother with a gun. Blood gathered in puddles around the woman, whose screams had long since ceased. The man was grinning with malice when he suddenly noticed the girl glaring at him.
"You'll pay for this!" the girl yelled with such fury she never knew could be a part of her usually sweet voice. She jumped at the man, hardly caring about the consequences, when he suddenly pulled her into a hug.
"Let me go!" she screamed, her fists pounding against his chest.
"I'm sorry that you had to see this Kagome, but this is the way it has to be".
"What the...,"she began. "Let go of me!"
The man gave a grin. "Kagome," he began.
The girl finally pulled out of his grasp long enough to heave a heavy punch at him. "What are you gonna pull next?" I responded coldly. "I am your father?" her voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Actually," he continued. "I am".
"EXCUSE ME?" the girl roared. "How DARE you insult me like this! My father died a long time ago! I've been living alone with my mother for 15 years! How dare you insult my father's name!" she lunged at him, attempting to rid herself of the murderer once and for all.
The man laughed dryly, holding her back with a mere hand.. "I always wondered what your mother led you to believe. I knew she wouldn't have the heart to tell you the truth".
The girl decided to play along, it wouldn't hurt to get some information before she killed him.
"What truth?" she asked angrily, her teeth clenched in rage.
"Your father never died. He left your pathetic excuse for a mom a long time ago for someone he truly loved. Your mother never accepted that I wasn't going to run back to her like the flea bitten asshole she was. Whenever I came home with divorce papers, she just threw them in my face. I figured there was only one way to get what I wanted, and that was to rid myself of her". He shrugged. "I didn't have a choice. Blame your mother for getting herself into this mess".
"You're lying". She said simply.
He shook his head. "Nope, not lying. You want proof?" The girl nodded angrily. "All right, I'll give you proof. He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a rumpled piece of paper. The girl stared at it disbelievingly, her eyes clouding over with confusion and anger.
It was her birth certificate.
"WHY do you have that?"
"Again, I'm your father," he stated simply. "I figured I might run into you here, I knew I needed something to prove it was really me".
"Blame my MOTHER? For what, loving you?" she exploded. "Why exactly did you run off in the first place? Because you found some girl in a bar who had a better ass? Is that it you mother fucking slimeball?" she screamed. She didn't know what had come over her, the worst thing she had ever called anyone was "craphead", and that wasn't even a real insult.
The man grinned wryly. "Temper, temper," he admonished. "The reason I ran off wasn't anything like that, I assure you. If you must know, your mom had her secrets too".
"What, she snored in her sleep or something?" she screeched.
A pained look crossed the man's face for a second. "Yes, that and while I was away my business trip to Africa years ago, she was away on a pleasure trip to clubs. A different one every night it seems. And let's just say she made "good use" of her time there".
Suddenly the girl felt more fury inside her that she had ever felt in my life. "How dare you," the girl began softly. "My mother was a fine woman. She has never done anything of that sort in her life".
He snorted. "Believe what you want Kags," he saw her flinch at the nickname. "It's all true. Look, I'm sorry I ran out on you. I'm sorry we never got to know each other". His hand cupped her cheek and for a moment, the girl swore she could see sorrow in his eyes. Suddenly she realized what was happening and slapped him hard across the face. "You make me retch," she stated simply. Then she turned and fled, never once looking back at the life she had grown up in.
~*~
Kagome sat up straight in her bed, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks. Her eyes widened for a moment as she blinked the unwanted tears away. "I should have known," she said dryly. "Sleeping is never safe". She glanced at her digital clock, one of the few things she had brought with her on her trip. After seeing that it was just early enough for breakfast, the girl slipped on her usual ensemble, which consisted of a short green skirt, a white top with a red tie around the neck, and knee high white socks. She grabbed her green purse and unceremoniously threw it over her shoulder as she left her messy apartment.
She politely thanked the elevator attendant and briskly walked toward the door of her apartment building. After attracting some rather odd looks from three doormen in a row, her anger finally got the better of her. "A picture is worth a thousand words," she said dryly. She was aware that she didn't know anything of American fashion but really, must they rub it in her face? The doormen, realizing they had been caught, quickly looked away, an innocent expression on their faces.
Realizing what a bad mood she was in, she walked toward the coffee shop, hoping a good frappacino would calm her down. She had found the place yesterday when her taxi driver who, surprisingly, was somewhat friendly, had pointed it out to her. She pushed open the door of the cozy coffeehouse and heard a little bell jingle in the background as she stepped inside. She nonchalantly stepped up to the counter and ordered her favorite, a mocha frappacino. She could already feel the sweet taste on her tongue as it cascaded down her throat. A now rare grin lit up her face. She was standing in the middle of unknown territory, new adventures all around her. She decided to try her best to quit moping, and flashed a smile as she accepted the drink from the cashier.
"Thanks!" she shouted over her shoulder, her voice layered with a thick Japanese accent. She decided to try her best to get rid of it as soon as she could. The more she could blend in, the better. After all, the easier she fit in, the easier it would be to forget that she didn't.
She sat herself down at an empty table and began to let the mocha goodness seep into her mouth. Anybody who knew her knew that she was never to be interrupted while drinking mocha. After downing the whole glass in about three sips, she opened her eyes and glanced around the shop. An old couple stood in the back, quietly sipping hot chocolate and muttering to each other. A teenaged boy sat in a corner muttering to himself, and she made a mental note to steer clear of him seeing as he looked like he owned a piercing parlor.
Suddenly the door swung open and another teenaged boy came running in. He looked a little off to her, but then again, she realized, she probably looked 'a little off' to everyone in this city. The boy had long silver hair that cascaded down his back, but the top of it was covered by a baseball cap. His eyes were a light amber brown, and Kagome was sure she had never seen eyes quite like his before. They seemed to be searching around the room, looking for something. When his eyes found hers they lit up for a moment, and he rushed to sit in the chair across from her.
Just as Kagome was about to speak up, the boy beat her to it. "Pretend like you know me," he hissed. Kagome was about to decide against it, but decided a good scheme was just what she needed. She nodded.
The door swung open again and two men with cameras ran in. Kagome realized that the boy must be hiding from these men, they looked like paparazzi. Was this guy famous or something?
"Say something bitch," he commanded her, flicking nervous glances at the men.
Her eyes narrowed. How dare he insult someone he'd never met? Suddenly she got an idea. Her eyes lit up mischievously and she gazed at the boy intently.
"I'm sorry sir," she began. "But really, how many times do I have to tell you? I do NOT sell myself!" she practically shouted the last part. Several people stared at the young woman for a moment.
"Look, you've been following me around for a week trying to get me to go to bed with you, and frankly, I'm sick of it! I don't even know you!" the boy stared at her in shock, then opened his mouth to say something, but Kagome silenced him. "I don't want to know how much you'll pay me, I've heard nothing but "69 cents a minute" for the last week! And no, I don't care to see your underwear again, though I must admit that the pink hearts are rather stylish".
The boy gaped at her with an open mouth. You could see shock radiating across his amber eyes, soon to be replaced by fury. Three choices were running through his head. Kill her, maim her, or get revenge. Seeing as he didn't want the electric chair, he opted for the third choice.
He rolled his eyes at her exaggeratedly. "You were drinking again last night weren't you bitch? You're totally wasted!" he gave a sigh. "So who did you wake up with this time? The old guy in Apartment 4B or that fat girl who keeps trying to hit on you? I'm personally opting for the fat chick, her and you have so much in common" he finished. The people in the shop were staring with open mouths, not believing what they had just heard. Even the paparazzi seemed frozen, and he was sure he heard the phrase 'lousy kids' coming from somewhere in the room. Even the punked out guy in the corner had lost his cool long enough to stare at the two in silence.
He grinned cockily as he watched her cheeks turn a lovely shade of red. Suddenly she got up and, with an abrupt turn, briskly walked out the door. She knew she wouldn't be seeing the inside of that particular coffeehouse anytime soon. With a sigh of dismay, she headed home, groaning inwardly. NOW where would she get mocha?
A/N: Well, there's chapter 1! Hope ya like it, I'll try to get Chapter 2 out by Tuesday!