I guess I'm temporarily back... Anyways I was just thinking of new ideas then suddenly this storyline struck me. I was inspired by a book I read eons ago (in my sophomore year of high school... oh gosh... so a LONG time ago.) I can't remember the name of the book (long-term memory loss.) Anyways here it is with my totally different writing style...

I was going to change something in the chapter but since it was the only chapter the entire story was deleted the first time... Tragedy struck :(

The Invalid Thesis

"What would you like, madam?" the flight attendant asked for my attention politely and smiled at me, gesturing at the trolley in front of her.

"Just some ginger ale please," I replied politely but slowly. I was sure she understood me. Darn, I should really brush up on my Japanese speaking skills.

She handed me a nice plastic cup shaped like a wine glass and gave me the whole can of ginger ale. The whole can, I tell you. The whole can! Maybe this was the difference between executive class and economy class. For once in my life, I travelled in style. I pulled up the soft blanket over me and looked at the tag: '60% cashmere 40% silk.' Wow. I loved this first class experience already. For a moment I felt... really, really good. Well... that was until I caught the grumpy teenager's death glares in my peripheral vision.

I cringed as I realized that I was going to spend two months with this little brat. But I furrowed my brows when I remembered that chaperoning a bad-tempered fifteen-year-old was the least of my worries right now. I only had two months to find all of the original primary material for my research or it would be the end of my academic career.

"Ladies and gentleman, we will be arriving at Narita International Airport in approximately fourteen hours. We are currently travelling at..."

I tuned out the captain's announcement. Besides, I couldn't quite make out his words. His Japanese was too quick and I wasn't any good at numbers in Japanese. I figured I didn't need to know what altitude we were flying at anyways. So what we were flying at -insert ridiculously large number with unit of measurement here-. What? We're flying at 45,000 feet! That's just my favorite altitude!

Confused? Well, that was just my boredom talking. If you want to get the whole story let's rewind to a week ago.

Early last Friday morning.

I grabbed the handle of the blue porcelain cup and held my breath while I chugged the whole cup of brown liquid down my throat. Bleh. Instant coffee. Honestly though - I'm not sure what beef people have with 'instant' coffee - my problem is that it's coffee, period. All coffee had that disgusting bitter taste, which gave me goose bumps. I would resort to caffeine pills or some sort of alternative but I was getting a big dose of caffeine with that big package of extra bold I got on sale at Walgreens. So far it has done its job of keeping me wide-awake so I'm not complaining.

The only thing that's ever been on my mind for the last eight months is my dissertation. Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself. My name is Randilyn Miyamoto, 29, PhD candidate at NYU's Institute for the Study of the Ancient World. My friends all think my name is a mouthful so they choose to call me "Randi" or "Rin" instead. As for my Japanese last name, I'm a second generation Japanese, born and raised in the glorious US of A.

My mother used to drag me kicking and screaming to language school on Saturday mornings while other kids watched cartoons in their pajamas - oh how I used to envy them. Sadly that's a part of my childhood I'd never be able to make up. I guess after all those years and tears I did manage to become conversational in my native Japanese tongue.

Well, in retrospect I'm glad my mother forced me through all of those language classes because now that I'm doing original research it's nice to just pull out a scroll and interpret it myself without the middleman. I can't remember when exactly I began to really appreciate my heritage. I remembered being 15 and rebellious. In my sophomore year of high school I dyed my hair a lighter shade of brown and wore hazel colored contact lenses to make myself look less "Asian" and more "white." Silly me.

I guess it was in my third year at Duke when all of the history courses were taken and the only class with an open spot was Ancient Japanese History with Professor Murasaki that I developed an interest for Japanese culture. The ways she made the antiquity come alive... Gosh, that woman knew how to deliver a millennium of Japanese history beyond the two hard covers of the textbook. Seven years later I'm doing a doctorate degree on one of her lecture topics. This shows you how amazing her class was.

Oh, I'm sorry. Did I sway off topic? Yes? Well, you've probably figured out by now that I'm a bit disoriented from sleep deprivation. Maybe not. That might not be the only reason. I swear I have an attention deficit disorder or my brain is just wired a little bit different than everyone else's. My thoughts tend to be scattered across in many places. But since you're still here you must be interested about my research.

Allow me to elaborate. First of all, I'm not some hardcore factual historian. I honestly can't tell you about all of the politics or earth-shattering events that had happened in year 9 of Go-Tsuchimikado-tennō's reign in the Meiō era.

But having said that, what I can tell you is that in Meiō year 9, the Jewel of Four Souls - also known as the "Shikon no Tama" - was casted away by a powerful priestess named Kagome. Legend has it that she restored peace and order to the people of Japan by casting away the tainted jewel coveted by a wicket demon named Naraku.

There's a shrine in Edo dedicated to her erected by the populace and every year on the second day of the lunar New Year people pray for Kagome's blessings at the shrine.

You see legends and folklores are a large part of the Japanese culture. They explain the "how" to many "why" questions. My study at the Institute for the Study of the Ancient World is principally focused on legends recorded in the Sengoku period, which is also known as the Warring States period, roughly from 1467 to 1573. It might not seem exciting to many people but somehow I find myself thoroughly intrigued by legends of demons, supernatural spirits, and sorcerers.

Let me make something clear, if you asked me whether I think these legends were real or not, I can tell you that to me demons were just as real as the tooth fairy who used to collect my baby teeth and leave five dollar bills under my pillow. So... in other words... Damned right I believe in the supernatural. Who do you think brought me all those presents during Christmas when I was a nice girl and gave me a lump of coal the year I stuck gum in my sister's hair when I was 6? Of course it was Santa Claus. Duh.

Please, I know what you're about to say - I've heard it all before - you really don't want to pluck at my nerves right now. Just let me stay in my "happy zone." Demons, the Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus really do exist.

Don't laugh at my belief, career, and research; I've actually managed to make a fairly decent living by co-writing children's books and textbooks.

Oh, I've never actually told you what I'm doing my research on. Oops, my bad. My thesis is on the death of Lady Rin at the mercy of her husband's sword. Confused? Let me develop my thesis, after all this is what I've been doing for the past months in 58 pages of Times New Roman 12 point font. Legend has it that the present day Hokkaido region was conjoined to the main island mass until the demon civil war between the North and the West. Now, this is where it all gets interesting. The North waged a war against the West because the lord coveted the Western lord's human consort, Lady Rin. In order to end the war the Western demon lord, the despicable Sesshomaru, from the house of Inu no Taisho killed his own mate.

What a bastard that Lord Sesshomaru was, right? All men are despicable low lifes... and to think that I was ever married to one. They all give you that "I can't help what the heart wants" crap after they sleep with their boss's daughter to climb the social ladder. Before you can say "parvenu" they've filed for divorce on you and everyone thinks that you're the one to blame. All they want in life are power and younger women.

Excuse me; I got off topic there. Anyways, before I digressed I was talking about my thesis. Ironically I have the same name as Lady "Rin". Randilyn... "Rin..." Get it? Close enough. I guess I have something in common with her and that's why I felt so passionately about her betrayal. But then as far as our luck with men goes, we might have more in common than I thought.

I know I'm whiny and bitter. Call me anything. I know for sure that I'm a masochist - a dangerous one too. I glanced down at the top right corner of the screen: 5:46 am. Another all-nighter for me. I'm not meeting with my advisor for another four hours; I guess I can rest my head for a little bit. Just a bit.

He locked my tights with his knees and whispered into my collar bone when he leaned in... I kept a study gaze into his liquid gold eyes; they were dark with unfulfilled desires.

"Danna..." I pulled myself closer to him to meet his soft lips. The kiss wasn't tender; it was rather rough with conviction. His long silvery hair pooled around me.

My eyes shot open and I found myself hot and bothered. That was some hot sex... Yum. I guess I got a little bit too... hm... Excited? I shot up from the chair. As soon as I inclined I felt a sharp pain piercing through my forehead. Damn. Stupid shelf. I clutched my head and winced as I felt the bruise above my left eyebrow. Talk about a mood killer. I glanced at my watch by the laptop: half past seven.

"Ah shittzles..." I muttered and massaged the probably indigo spot. I took a deep breath and felt my sweaty forehead with my fingertips. I pushed myself out of the seat that I had been glued to for the past day and strolled into the kitchen.

I have to admit that I feel a little disappointed now that I'm awake. That was a 'hot' dream as I recalled once more. It felt almost... real. The way the stranger's body pressed against "mine." "Danna..." I guess he wasn't a stranger if I called him my "husband." I grinned. Thank goodness that my roommate wasn't awake yet. I probably looked stupid grinning to myself in the kitchen for no conspicuous reason.

I pulled out a slice of cold bread from the bag and began munching on the dry whole-wheat while leaning against the kitchen cabinet. As I tried to swallow, I recalled the dream lingering in my mind and choked. Woah. Woah. Woah. Hold on there. Ah ha! I knew something was bothering me. It was what I called that stranger... "Danna." Husband? No. No. No.

No.

They say that your dreams revealed your innermost desires. What did mine reveal? That I secretly desired a husband after my first one left me? I guess I haven't revolutionized past the pre-feminist era like many women did successfully in New York City. I'm doomed to be forever alone and bitter about men. Oh what am I thinking? I'm just emotionally distraught because I need sleep. A nice long bath and a good sleep would be helpful after meeting with my advisor. Yes... That's it. Sleep. Lots... and lots of sleep.

-x-x-x-

'Dr. R. Nalca. Department of Oriental Studies.' I glanced at the eye-level golden plaque on the oak door. I straightened out my pencil skirt and fixed the clip in my hair before knocking on Dr. Nalca's office door.

"Ah, good to see you bright and early, Ms. Miyamoto," my advisor greeted me with his adorable Turkish accent as I walked in and sat down on the comfortable chair across from him. He held out his hand for a copy of my dissertation.

"Good morning, Doctor Nalca, thank you so much for meeting with me today," I gave my best smile and pulled out a manila envelope, which contained the third draft of my thesis paper. "I'm having a small problem finding original material to support this clause here on page 42."

"I'll take a look," the elderly professor nodded and slipped on his readers.

Watching his face was like riding a (emotional) roller coaster. I felt the breath knocked out of my lungs at the sight of a cringe at the corner of his mouth, a small furrow at his forehead, or a subtle perk of his brow. Seriously, I was on the verge of tears. Then, his grave warning did not help. Not at all.

"Ms. Miyamoto," he began with some hesitation in his voice. My heart sank. Shoot - something's wrong. "You might have to find more substantial research material for your dissertation. I have something here that might put you in a... difficult situation."

I watched him as he pulled out a package from his desk and laid it before me. I read the letterhead - 'Waseda University.'

"It seems..." he paused to watch me gaze at the letter before me and continued again. "That another professor at Waseda is writing a paper on the same subject... but in an opposing view point."

I looked up to meet his eyes in a daze. My mouth was agape; I waited for Professor Nalca to continue. Okay. Let me put the situation in more of a context you can understand. Having another professor publishing a research paper on the same topic that you are doing for your thesis is like two actresses showing up at the Oscars in the same dress. It's awkward and really, really, really unfortunate.

"Doctor Takeda is the professor writing the dissertation. He's published over eighteen research papers. Ms. Miyamoto, I hate to tell you this but his paper is much substantial than yours. He's a fellow at Waseda University, Faculty of Letters."

I couldn't believe this.

"Professor, academia has always been opposing view points and continuing research and learning. I don't suppose that there would be any complications with my thesis opposing Doctor Takeda's research," I explained confidently to Dr. Nalca. That's right - time to play the "all-mighty multifarious nature of academia" card.

He gave me a pitying look of disbelief as if I had just said something as outrageous as "the two World Wars had never happened and it was just the product of central governments' planned conspiracies." He shook his head, "The board might revoke your dissertation and doctorate degree on the grounds of invalidity because the opposition is so substantial."

My eyes grew twice as wide and I bit my lips in denial, "Wh-haatt?"

"Unless..." he started once again with that enigmatic tone but he suddenly grew silent.

"Unless what?" I pounded my fist on his cherry wood desk while leaning closer. My academic career was in jeopardy and he had the heart to play the elicitation and silence game.

"Unless you can find more original material to support your thesis and submit your dissertation before Doctor Takeda presents his research at the conference in three months," the professor replied calmly.

This was a perfect model for "shit happens."

-x-x-x-

"How the hell am I supposed to find more material?" I bashed my face into the dining table sitting across my roommate. "I freaking flipped the ISAW, Bobst, and Brause upside down already! Did I mention the old ladies at the New York Public Library knows what my entire wardrobe looks like because I'm there every other day? Where the hell do I get more resources from?"

"Maybe you should just go to the source - Japan," Kira sipped her strawberry smoothie while watching me in amusement. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and her face was smeared with ultramarine oil paint. I rolled my eye at her - fine arts graduate student, what a simpleton.

"I can just drop everything and go to Japan, Kira! Do you know how much it's going to cost me?" I reminded her that I was on the verge of filing for government unemployment financial aid. Quite honestly, I didn't know why I hadn't already. Well, technically I wasn't even accounted for in the labor force and therefore I couldn't be "unemployed" but I was definitely living below the poverty line. Yes I have a double undergraduate degree and a master's degree with a pending doctorate but I wasn't quite employed yet and living in New York City wasn't actually economical.

Trust me guys, living in New York City isn't anything like HBO's "Sex and the City" or the glamorous "Gossip Girls." I'm stuck in an eight hundred square feet studio apartment with a roommate, eating cold bread and instant noodles while living beside sketchy neighbors. I swear the old man across from us is a dealer during the week and a pimp on the weekends.

Anyways... Focus.

"You can always sue Winston for more spousal support," Kira propped her chin with her palm and stared at me.

"Please, I'd rather run down Fifth Avenue stark naked. That cheap bastard even made me give back the engagement ring. Never trust an investment banker," I let out a long sigh once again and propped myself up. "I'm going to take a long nap. Don't wake me up even if there's a fire. You're my beneficiary of my life insurance. If I die, you walk away with a quarter of a million."

"Will do," Kira laughed and rolled her eyes.

I made my way towards my cozy room and collapsed on the bed. My soft bed. Haven. How did I, Rin Miyamoto come to this? I clenched my jaw at my ex's name - Winston. Winson Kirsly. It's so strange. My divorce only was finalized half a year ago but yet ...

Before I could think anymore, I fell into a deep slumber.

I straddled my legs around his waist and panted as our bodies collided. He nipped my neck and a small yelp escaped my lips.

"Aisai," his voice was mellifluous. I melted as he addressed me as his beloved wife. I quivered under his touch and ecstasy flooded my senses as he propelled into me once more.

"Anata..." I reached towards his face and swept his cascading locks to the side with my fingertips, revealing his stunning golden eyes. I smiled at him and he gazed at me lovingly. Never in my life had I felt so loved... so safe.

"Rin! Rin! Rin! Rin! Rin!"

My body stiffened at my name.

"Rin! Rin Miyamoto! Wake up! Get up!"

His protective grip on my shoulder was replaced by an irking nudge. Hm... That voice...

"Rin! Rin!"

I moaned with annoyance and forced one eye open. Ugh. I felt angry. Really angry. I was having amazing sex with a drop dead gorgeous stranger, no strings attached - in my dream and "BAM" I wake up to Kira's obnoxious laughter and grotesque hair in my face.

"Fuck you," I muttered to my roommate and kneed her in the ribs.

"Ou oucch," Kira dropped to the other side of my bed gasping for air as if she was in immense pain when in fact she was just choking on her own saliva from laughing too hard.

"Why did you wake me up for?" I threw a pillow over my face to muffle my groaning.

"It sounded like you were having such an awesome time in here I came in wondering if you wanted to share," Kira snickered referring to the sound I must have made in my sleep. I turned into a shade of crimson under my pillow. I didn't realize... Dammit.

"And then I got really disappointed when I came in. Gosh, Rin. You need to go out more often," my roomie nudged me and laughed again. "And get yourself in the game again! Seriously, thirty is the new twenty."

I held my tongue and remained silent from embarrassment. Then I began again, "Hey! I'm still twenty... ... ... nine..."

I remained under my pillow for a few minutes until Kira calmed down.

"Okay, the real reason why I intruded on you was because I got a surprise for you," Kira pried the pillow away from my face and smiled. "I got you a trip to Japan. Air ticket, food, accommodations, and 'all' expenses paid for! Rin! You're going to Japan!"

"Huh?" I blinked at her and rubbed my eyes. Kira was playing a cruel joke on me again. Or... I was still asleep and dreaming. What the heck?

"I'm serious!" she yelled.

Back to the present now.

I'm really not that coherent. As I mentioned before my thoughts are scattered all over the place and I'm running on very little sleep most of the time. Try to follow along with my thoughts as I tell them.

Anyways, it turns out that Kira's mother's friend's son (phew that was a long winded chain) was recently remarried. Oh, he didn't divorce his first wife or anything. She died five years ago of leukemia. Anyways, his daughter, whom I'm now chaperoning, took his father's remarriage very hard. In order to appease her, Mr. Hara (Kira's mother's friend's son) has sent Ai (his daughter) to Japan for the summer. Which teenager didn't love Japan when they were a die hard anime fan?

Anyways... conveniently I'll be able to sit through one of his lectures and meet this "Doctor Takeda" when we visit Tokyo.

I snuggled closer to my fluffy pillow. Hopefully by the time I open my eyes again I'll be in Narita.

Next on "Intellectual Property"...

I cringed at the sight of his face. Ugh. It's him again. Kira tugged on my sleeves and whispered into my ear, "Why does he always look like he's in pain?"

I grinned. Finally Kira and I have reached an agreement on something.