Sesshōmaru let out an annoyed sigh as he pulled his beloved silver Audi into the first available spot on the crowded mall parking lot.
He'd spent almost twenty useless minutes now stalking the isle hoping for some retail addicted housewife to finally call it quits so that someone else would get a chance to park their car for a change, preferably before their perfectly full tank of gas dried up.
The young man eyed the two cars at each side of his and tightened his jaw—of course he'd land in a spot between a certified jalopy and a registered clunker.
He patted his steering wheel lightly, as if apologizing to his trusty ride for such an unacceptable inconvenience, and with true affection in his eyes, promised it a fresh new coat of wax polish later, for all its troubles.
Normally not one to care for material possessions and the like, Sesshōmaru Taisho—however—did only value and cherished one thing above all else:
His car.
It was his pride and joy—a sixteenth birthday present to himself. He'd spent all of his pre and early teen years just saving up for it all on his own.
How many countless hours had he worked at his father's company after school? Or given Kendo lessons?
How many sleepless nights had he spent tracking his investments—he'd thrown all his trust fund into the stock market, almost loosing it all, before it came back to him in tenfolds.
Heck, he'd even lowered himself to mow the lawn a couple of times.
But it was all worth it in the end, and what more, it was the proof he wanted to show himself, and anyone who would listen that he did not—and would not—need to depend on anyone to get what he wanted.
Especially his mother.
Sesshomaru gritted his teeth at the memory of how his own mother had tried to blackmail him into living with her and her then boy toy Steven, just so she could claim him as her dependent in her taxes.
Going as far as to promising to buy him this very car, if only he complied.
He rolled his eyes at that.
It all ended up turning out to be some huge thing about tax evasion or whatever—his maternal grandfather had to step in and bail her out, like usual.
'Cough'
Strangling the cloth he used to keep dust away from his dashboard, Sesshōmaru's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden realization that he was, in fact, not alone right now, and there was—in fact—a reason why he had bothered to drive up to this god forsaken mall in the first place.
"What is it now, Inuyasha?", he barked, ignoring how his insufferable half-brother made faces at him through his review mirror.
"Are you done making love to your stupid car now? Can we leave already?", the younger boy mocked, swatting away whoever's butt pressed against his ear with a glare, "My legs are falling asleep!"
"The doors are unlocked, no one's holding you back", Sesshomaru countered, returning to his 'housekeeping' task as if it were no one's business, "you and your little friends just make sure to meet me back here in three hours, or you're all walking home. I'm not a taxi service, I won't be waiting."
He stared down the younger boy's reflection, and pointedly ignored at how the other kept gesturing, with desperate yet limited movement, at the closed passenger door to his right.
It truly was a small wonder how the half-wit he called a half-brother, and his annoying pack of friends had all managed to fit in the back of his small vehicle.
Regardless of the limited space, they all had squished themselves like sardines in a can—and now he had to drive them around all day for their back-to-school shopping.
Technically, Sesshōmaru admitted, it was his own fault for telling them he would only give them a ride as long as they all managed to fit into the backseats—and only the backseats.
But, seriously. Who in their right mind would have guessed that those little freaks would ever
make even that possible?
Normally, nine whole people, shouldn't fit into what was supposed to be—at most—a four passenger coupe car.
Apparently though, with enough determination, and a little desperation sprinkled in for some added luck, it could most certainly be done.
Guinness World Record or not, however, that unfortunately also meant that Sesshōmaru now had no choice but to bare with all their other stupidity for the day.
A deal was a deal.
"Yeah, yeah, we know", Inuyasha grumbled, while he and his friends unfolded themselves like paper as they all piled out the door, one after the other. After the other, after the other.
Yet another small wonder all on its own.
Sesshōmaru observed each and every one as they did so, somewhat mildly impressed, and then made sure to take note of who all was part of the party.
Love as he might to simply leave them all stranded there at this very moment and call it a day, his father would not take such action very lightly. Neither, he supposed, would their parents.
God, he hated being an older brother.
He shut off the engine as he counted each head absentmindedly, feeling very much the reluctant daycare worker.
If ever there was a group he despised above all others, it was this set of clowns.
Every last one of them unique to their special brand of pain in the ass:
There was that overtly perverted boy Miroku, face bruised from all the slaps he received on the car ride alone. Sesshomaru tutted at that—quite concerning, he felt, for one still so young.
The absolute pest Kōga, who perhaps never got fed at his own home, on account that he ate everything at the Taisho house, including specifically prepped meals.
Sesshōmaru assumed the poor thing couldn't read either, it was the only explanation, for only someone who was completely uncivilized could so blatantly disregarded clearly written labels.
Next to Kōga was the loud redhead girl, the one who constantly followed the parasite around like a lost puppy.
The older Taisho brother disliked her by default, for her taste in men alone.
If there was any hope for society, he contemplated, it was that those two wouldn't end up together.
—The world didn't need any more freeloading leech spawns running about and causing havoc in other people's nice color coded fridges.
Then of course there was that Sango girl, whom deceitfully seemed nice and quiet at first, only to turn around every once in a while and beat the living pulp out of the Miroku kid for so much as breathing in another chick's direction.
An even smaller wide eyed, freckled kid held her hand—Sesshōmaru assumed it was her younger brother, and inwardly sent him his condolences for it.
The older brother rolled his eyes as Inuyasha's loud grating voice screeched at the ponytail kid about some nonsense or other
The moron, of course—tired wasn't enough to describe the look of exhaustion in Sesshōmaru's face—he couldn't lose him no matter what, and that was not for lack of trying.
And lastly—right at the tail end of their motley crew of douchebaggery—was Higurashi, her gravity defying mini skirt, and that draining pipsqueak gremlin kid brother of hers, Sōta.
Sesshōmaru sneered at the back of the little boy's round bobbleheaded noggin'…
As far as he was concerned, that little kid was an asshole.
One time, Mrs. Higurashi had corned and forced him to hold the little bastard for a few minutes while she went to the ladies room at a dinner party several years ago, and the walking-babbling birth control barfed all over his nice shoes for no reason at all.
The memory of it still made his blood boil every time.
Sesshomaru would have punted him too, if it weren't for goody-goody Kagome coming to his rescue.
She had glared at him too, as if he were the villain, when it was that snot-nosed rugrat who soiled five hundred dollars worth in shoes at the blink of an eye.
The seventeen year old wiggled his keys absentmindedly as he too stepped out of his car and locked it, mildly contemplating in his head how there couldn't possibly be a more perfect little kid than Rin.
She was too good for this world, he reasoned, and the only one worthy of a nice trip to the mall.
He sighed, forlornly, ignoring how half of the group waved him goodbye before they all raced to the entrance like a desperate flock of impassioned, obnoxiously loud geese.
At least Rin was out having fun at camp, he grumbled to himself—one of them deserve some relief from the likes of the two cavemen they shared a home with.
Contemplating how much she had enjoyed that barbie sing-along CD he had gotten her for her last birthday, Sesshomaru—who now had nothing but time to burn—figured he might as well take advantage of the trip and head to the music store to check out what was new.
"Okay, you guys", Kagome spoke up, clapping her hands to get the groups attention as soon as they all stepped through the mall's main entrance, "Sango and I are taking the boys to the school supply store cause they need new backpacks—after that we're heading to get fitted for our uniforms. What's your plan, Inuyasha?"
The silver haired boy shrugged, "we kinda wanted to check out the video game store first", he replied, gesturing lazily to himself and the other two boys.
Miroku nodded in agreement, while Kōga sent the object of his devotion sad blue wolf-cub eyes.
"Kagome, you don't want to come with us?", he asked.
"I can come!", Ayame volunteered, attempting and failing to keep the dark ponytail haired boy's line of sight.
"You'll only get bored", Kōga waved her away, looking over her head to send an awkwardly giggling Kagome yet another disappointed look.
"I'll get bored too", the blue eyed girl admitted, sharing a small smile of solidarity with poor Ayame who wilted like a flower.
"Aw, can't we go, sis?", Sōta, standing besides her, had perked up in contrast, "I wanna go!"
"Ahaha", Kagome grinned, sending her cute little kid brother a discreet kick on the back of the leg.
"You. Know. We. Cant. Sōta.", she gritted, despite her charming smile, "maybe after we get our uniforms."
"Fine", the little boy grumbled—he never got to go have fun with the boys!
"I guess I'll tag along with you guys then", Ayame decided with a small shrug, never one to be held down for long, "I already got my uniform weeks ago, but I could always use a new pair"
"Or new accessories~", Sango added, effectively orchestrating a symphony of girlish laughter from the group of girls as the other two nodded in agreement.
Kohaku, about four years older than little eight year old Sōta, bonded over the misery of only having older sisters by sharing identical weary looks with one another.
"You boys meet us at the food court", Sango called back at the guys when they finally went off on their separate ways, while her and the girls promptly ushered the two younger boys in their care towards their destination.
"And don't forget to actually buy something for school!", she added, as an after thought.
It wouldn't be the first time Inuyasha and them lost track of time whenever video games were involved.
Least farthest away, Miroku waved her off, as if to say he wasn't an idiot.
"No, yeah. They'll definitely forget", Ayame guaranteed, flipping through her phone as they made their way towards the store.
"…Lucky…", Sōta muttered enviously, Kohaku next to him nodded in solemn agreement.
Kagome broke away from Sango's usual school gossip, to roll her eyes at her little brother, "not when the semester starts and all they have to wear is their old junior high uniforms—everyone else will be laughing at them."
"Ew, not to mention having to haul around the same old dirty backpack, and nasty matching shoes—Miroku has these gross ones with a hole on the toe", Sango added, "you two wanna start the year looking like that?"
Both boys shook their head in the negative, sharing a look of agreement with one another, before they sped up their pace.
Maybe if they hurried with their shopping—their eyes secretly conveyed to one another—and were quick enough about it, they might just make enough time to check out the video game store before the three hours were up.
It'd be the best way to kill two birds with one stone.
"So, back to what I was saying", Sango reiterated turning back to her friends as they watched the younger boys run up ahead, "—do ether of you have any idea on what's gonna happen this year? The girls at summer practice said the hazing usually starts after the welcome ceremony"
"I hate that stupid hazing tradition", Ayame groaned, "my older cousin said they forced her to go on a date with one of the basketball boys just because he was a third year, even though she already had a boyfriend…"
"What?", Kagome was horrified, "that's ridiculous!"
"You're telling me", the redhead shook her head forlornly, "her boyfriend broke up with her as soon as he found out—and the worst part? Two days later, that upperclassmen who set her up—she was seen confessing to him after school."
"Psycho bitch"
Hazing the first years had apparently been a long standing tradition at Our Lady Of The Sacred Jewel.
It was meant to be a fun bonding experience between the willing underclassmen and their upperclassmen—kind of like a teaching experience of sorts.
Usually a senior or a group of seniors, depending on the club, would pick out a new incoming student and take her under their wing.
Being the lowest in the pecking order, the first year might be tasked with harmless, silly, or fun little biddings that should help her grow more accustomed to her new school and new student-body.
Of course, harmless was never the case when it came to this sort of stuff.
Like most things of this nature, power hungry upperclassmen always took such matters much too far, and plenty of them seemed to revel on emotional damage—more so than physical.
These were the scars that left no visible marks, after all.
Rumors of how terrifying the hazings really were had steadily trickled down to the sister school, and many a middle schooler had heard of such horrors by the time they reach their last year.
Sango nodded grimly, "I heard some girl called Yura"—she turned to Ayame—"you know her, the new cheerleader at the club tryouts?"
The redhead nodded, green eyes wide, "yeah, the volleyball club was hosting that day too—she's the one with the really short hair, right?"
"Who?", Kagome didn't want to be left out.
"Yura-chan", Sango repeated, this time meeting her friend's blue eyes, "apparently she had really beautiful long hair—like down to her knees, and on her first year some upperclassmen had her chop it all off on the first week."
"That's horrible!", Ayame cried, dropping her phone with a loud plastic clang, "poor Yura!"
The girls shared a moment of shock as they contemplated how anyone could be so horrible to someone else.
"I heard you're as safe as the club you pick", Kagome spoke after a moment, volunteering her own information, abysmal as it was—yet ever the optimist.
In her own experience no one at the music club seemed particularly nasty, nor did they have any gruesome stories to tell.
"Probably", Sango shrugged, waving it off, "I guess networking helps, but that club of yours is full of boys"
"They have it easier", Ayame agreed, fighting with the clasp on her phone's battery.
Kagome frowned, puzzled, "I thought they had it harder?", she argued, "don't they have all the male upperclassmen beat them with paddles and stuff like that?"
"I'd rather get beat one time and never have to deal with some girl thinking she's the boss of me for a whole year", Sango scoffed, "I'll trade with any of the boys any day"
"I wouldn't", both Kagome and Ayame replied in unison, and then giggled at each other.
"You should", Sango warned, sending Kagome a knowing look, "Kikyo's gonna be a second year, and I'm sure she's gonna want to take out her own hazing on you"
Amused blue eyes dimmed significantly, "Ugh don't remind me."
"She's only a second year", Ayame soothed, pulling Kagome into a hug, and sending Sango an annoyed glare, "Third years trump second years, and they get first picks too."
"Not helping", Kagome moaned, though she did hug the redhead back, "if she can make it all the way to cheer captain on her second year, I'm pretty sure she can probably overrule anyone that would dare stand in her way"
At this point, she wouldn't put anything past Kikyo.
"Well, she's gonna have to go through me first", Sango vowed, coming to pat Kagome on her back soothingly, already regretting bringing it all up,"even if I have to shave my head bald for it"
"Sango-chan", the other two cried, waterworks at the ready.
Kagome pulled the taller girl into the group hug and held on tightly to the both of them—god she missed hanging with these dweebs.
"You guys always have my back no matter what, right?", she asked them after a while, basking greedily on their warmth.
"Sure!", Ayame readily agreed.
"Of course!", Sango scoffed, as if insulted Kagome would insinuate differently.
The dark haired girl's smile waned slightly—welp, she told herself, taking a deep breath—'here goes nothing'.
Better they heard it from her now, before someone else's obnoxiously long tongue started blabbing all about it.
"That's good,", she started, tensing slightly, as if bracing herself, "cause earlier this week…hehe it's kind of a funny story really…but Inuyasha, he stole the slam book and I don't know how far he got into reading it before I managed to catch up with him—
"EHH!"
"WHAT!"
Kagome winced, fumbling back as the other two dropped her.
"Are you serious right now, Kagome!", it was Sango who snapped first, though she still held her hand out to help her up, "you had one job!"
Ayame sputtered in agreement, unable to form actual words.
"I know, I know", Kagome pleaded, grabbing on to Sango's arm as if she were a drowning man, and her friend the only life preserver in the ocean, "but you guys know I can't outrun him!"
"How did…h-how..?", Ayame gaped, clutching her hair, "I wrote so many things!"
Sango shook her head in disappointment, dropping her clinging friend faster than Kate Winslet pushed Leonardo DiCaprio off that floating door.
"I don't know!", Kagome cried, "I left my room for one second, and in the next he was making a run for it—I gave it all I got!"
"Did you at least recover it?", Sango demanded—she picked her up again, and shook her, "did you at least recover it, Kagome!"
"I wrote SO MUCH!"
"Y-Ye-s!", Kagome assured, starting to feel a little dizzy with all that back and forth motion.
"Kōga can't know about this", Ayame wailed, "you guys"—she cackled like a mad woman—"Kōga cannot know about this!"
"Pull yourself together Yoro!", Sango snapped at her, fed up with the hysterics, "everyone—especially Kōga—knows about what you feel for him. People in Paris, France, know how you feel about him!"
She turned to Kagome once more, death in her eyes, "Just tell me he didn't read about my kiss?"
The dark haired girl bit her lip, "I'm not sure—
"Oh for god's sake, I could strangle you!"
"What about unity?", Kagome reminded her, tugging at her sleeve, "what about having my back no matter what?"
Sango gave her a glare so deadly, it made the shorter of the two draw a few steps back.
"I will personally hand you over to Kikyo myself for this, Higurashi', the brown haired girl swore, her whisper chilling to the bone, "on a silver platter."
Kagome nodded in the most pacifying manner she could, completely at peace with that.
All things considered, the fifteen year old reasoned to herself, this was actually going a lot better than she had expected.
She fully believed either of these two would have easily folded her into a pretzel at some point by now.
After all, Sango wasn't the aikido champion tittle holder of her age group for nothing.
"Look, girls…", Kagome spoke after a while, while the other two composed themselves, "I know I messed up. You all trusted me as keeper of the book, and I failed", she admitted.
Ayame nodded her understanding, but still refused to meet her eyes.
"I can't take back what that jerk saw", she pressed on, "but I can make it up to you!"
Pointed silence.
When neither of Kagome's friends replied, she steeled her nerves and nodded, lowering herself to one knee and then the other, fully prepared to bow with her entire body—
"Kagome, stop!", it was Sango who reached for her first, Ayame following after a beat, holding her up by the other side, and together they hauled her back up.
"Don't be so ridiculous!", the redhead chastised, squeezing her hand assuredly.
"Yeah, it's only a silly slam book,", Sango agreed, reaching down to dust off her friend's knees, "don't take it so seriously"
"B-but…but..?…"
Kagome was baffled, she looked from one girl to the other as if in a daze, hadn't they all but had an actual meltdown just three seconds ago?
She let out a deep breath that she swore carried the rest of her soul with it.
'I should have gone for the kowtow from the get go'
She felt herself being pulled, and her wobbly legs followed along until they came across an empty bench.
"If anyone needs to bow in shame, it's that silver haired mutt looking rat", Sango gritted, pulling Kagome down to sit beside her, "I can forgive anything from you. But I'll happily put him out of his misery any day, no excuses needed"
"Count me in on that", Ayame muttered darkly.
"I'm sure the other boys put him up to it", Kagome reasoned, not entirely comfortable with throwing Inuyasha completely under the bus—they did still needed that ride back from his brother, "we haven't exactly kept the journal a secret…"
"True", the tallest of the three nodded.
"And, I'm probably the worst candidate to keep it safe anyway", Kagome added, rubbing the back of her neck bashfully with a small chuckle, "I'm the least athletic out of all of us"
"You can say that again". Ayame giggled, nudging at a grinning Sango, "remember that time we formed a mock baseball team at Inuyasha birthday party last year?"
Kagome blanched, "Please let me just bow again"
"Yeah, I'll never forget that!", Sango cackled, and pointed at her like she was reliving the very best day of her life , "you tripped and fell while trying to catch the fly ball and it just bounced off your head like a hockey sack and landed right splat in the middle of the cake!"
The blue eyed girl shook her head, refusing to recall it ever happening…
"NO wait!", but the brown haired girl wasn't done yet, "the funniest part had to be when you actually tried making a pass, but ended up hitting one the guest watching instead—that poor little old lady was knocked out for about an hour before she was able to pull through again!"
By now, all their troubles seemingly long forgotten, the other two girls were howling in laughter so hard, they made more than one passerby stop to stare.
The object of their derision however, was not the least bit amused.
"W-what about…ha…w-what about…?", Ayame tried blurting through her hysterics, tears rolling down her red checks, "w-what about…pfffttt!"—she couldn't even say it.
"And then, right before Miroku could slide into home plate—
"ALRIGHT, fine!", Kagome cut Sango off with an annoyed huff, "we get it already. Hardy-har-har I have zero athleticism skills."
"Aww, it's okay Kagome, you don't need to get angry", Ayame promised, unable to hide her giggles, "we like you just the way you are!"
"Yeah?", the blue eyed girl challenged, a small sarcastic smile forming on her lips, "now try saying it with a serious face."
"We do!", Sango readily confessed, throwing her arms around Kagome's shoulders and pulling her close for emphasis.
—"And I like you so much that I'm willing to sacrifice my one precious elective period just so we can be in the same class together all day looong", she added.
"Really?", Kagome's grin widened, "did you actually?"
"Uh huh", the taller girl nodded, grinning back, "I rather not risk missing out on not being in any class together, just in case we don't land on the same homeroom"
"I wanted to do the same too", Ayame admitted, "but my grandpa's really adamant about me focusing all my energy on that volleyball scholarship they promise one student every year at graduation—he believes it's my best chance at getting into that one university he won't stop talking about.", she rolled her eyes.
"That's okay", Kagome grinned, holding out her hand to pat her friend, "it's not like—
"Sis, look!", Sōta's childish voice rang out, growing even more high pitched than usual at his excitement, "we picked out our things! Can we go check out the video games now?"
He and Kohaku were running towards them at full speed—at least as fast as their short legs could carry them—both carrying shinny new school bags chuck full to the brim with all the scholastic materials they had been able to get their grubby little hands on.
"What?", Sango's dark thin eyebrows lifted up past her chocolate colored bangs, "already?"
"Wait…", Kagome added, scratching her head for a second as she contemplated something, her other hand reaching down her side to feel at the small purse strapped across her torso—no, it was definitely still there.
"How…how did you guys even pay for all that?", she asked.
Eyes going comically wide as if hit with a sudden realization, both boys winced, "…Ohhhh….", they muttered in unison.
"Oi! You…two….little boys..!", the mall cop they now understood to be chasing after them all along, wheezed violently as he steadily approached, "get back…h-here..!…"
Kagome and Sango, who by this point looked anything but understanding, gave each other a tired yet quick, desperate glance, before simultaneously taking one deep breath…
"SŌTA!"
"KOHAKU!"
…
By the other side of the mall, at the very video game store those two little trouble making boys coveted so much, Inuyasha stopped and shivered.
"Oi, Miroku?", he asked the dark haired boy next to him, who was entirely much too occupied in playing one of the demo games from the newest gaming system, "did you hear something?"
"Is it your top score crying goodbye?", Miroku asked, eyes trained on the screen, "because that's all I'm hearing right now", he laughed.
The silver haired boy scoffed, and responded in the only way he considered was reasonable—by smacking him up the side of the head.
"Ow!…what the hell was that for", his friend complained, yet was still much too invested on his own score to spare either of his hands any time to rub at the sore spot on his scalp.
"Sorry, what?", Inuyasha smirked, his own eyes observing every single move the other played with more attention he'd ever give to something half as important—like school, or whatever.
"I can't hear you over the crying of my top score", he mocked.
"Hey you guys, seriously though…", Kōga called from his own spot behind a gaming stand nearby, "I kinda feel like we're maybe forgetting something."
"…Yeah…", Inuyasha mumbled, yanking the remote out of Miroku's hands the second his buddy's avatar died for the last time, and almost immediately started smashing the small colorful buttons as if his actual life depended on it, "…me too…"
"Are you two serious? Man, you guys forget everything!" Miroku snapped, finally allowing himself to rub at the back of his head, sighing in exasperation,"we need to rent at least two movies for tonight, remember?"
"…Oh yeah…", his companions chanted in union.
…
"Okay, so just to make it clear", Hiten asked, from where he stood behind the cash register at the music store he worked at, "…you're saying you have absolutely no idea where the band could practice..?"
Sesshōmaru nodded, "yes, that's exactly what I said."
The shorter of the two gritted his teeth, and taking a quick look at his surroundings, lowered the headphone set he almost chucked at his friend, just as his manager—old man, Hideki—sent him a very pointed warning glare.
Instead, the dark hared boy pulled at his long, thick braid, and pushed it off his strong shoulder in annoyance, "what kind of a wannabe manager are ya actually trying to be here, exactly?", he snapped at silver haired boy, who had the gall to shrug.
"You and Menōmaru shouldn't put this all on me, you know", Sesshōmaru replied, ignoring the insulted glare his classmate sent him,"you could help look as well—you're the ones who want to play music in the first place."
"Yes, and that's our job—to play the music", Hiten argued, halfway through blowing his top off, "and your job, is to accommodate that!"
"I said I'd fund your little venture, as a favor", the taller boy pointedly reminded him, meeting his eyes at last, "not sit here and hold your hands every step of the way."
Half a year ago, when they were still year-two high school students, Menōmaru and Hiten—the two music lovers of the kendo team—had dreamed up a crazy scheme to start a band of their own together.
Mostly to get chicks—but also because it was yet another way for the green haired rebel son of a multi-billion dollar business mogul, to stick it to his dad, the he had absolutely zero plans of inheriting the company, or worse yet, the position of corporate top-dog.
Hiten for his part, had an old set of hand-me-down drums, and nothing to loose.
This scheme however, required a lot more money than either had expected, if they ever hoped to reach any kind of success…money that Hiten's family certainly did not have, or Menōmaru's father would never in a million years freely give.
As someone who understood very well just how much family could clash, and whom had more than his fair share of experiences on that front, the oldest of the Taisho children had somewhat openly sympathizes with such a predicament.
—Uncharacteristic though it was of him.
And yet soon enough he had at some point, reluctantly found himself agreeing to lend them a much needed financial hand.
He would continue to do so as long as he was monetarily compensated for his valiant effort eventually, hopefully once they hit the big time.
A stupid dream, Sesshōmaru believed it to be—and expressed so vocally whenever given the chance—but until then, under notarized contract of course, he owned those two morons, and assumed they'd at least be worth something when they inevitably failed.
Even if only as harvestable organs at the black market.
"Okay, fair. But if you actually want a cut—or rather make one in the first place—I suggest you start helping around too", Hiten reasoned, "both Menō and I actually work, ya know."
"I don't see how that's my problem", Sesshōmaru replied with a scoff, still unimpressed at the poisonous look the other sent him, though relented at last, "However, I'll make an effort to ask my father to lend us his old college flat"
The crease in Hiten's brow loosened.
"Your old man still own his college flat?", the dark haired boy mused, taking a moment to look away but only to bow good-bye at a leaving client.
"That and his first car…"
"No way!", he exclaimed, lowering his voice when Hideki deliberately cleared his throat "the 76' Corvette?"
Sesshōmaru nodded, but otherwise ignored his friend's fascination—what was so impressive of a car his sire's father had paid for?
"Either that, or we could ask that music club's sponsoring professor for the keys to the band room after kendo practice—I know you don't go to cram school", he suggested, while looking through some CD's, "these are all from last month…"
"Yeah, we're supposed to get a new shipment this week, " Hiten replied, waving the bored observation away with an annoyed flick of his wrist, "the band room could work", he agreed.
Then thought about it a little more.
"…or what about Higurashi?", he inquired after a short pause.
The silver haired teen struggled to avoid dropping the set of CD cases he'd been holding.
—"what?", Sesshōmaru practically choked.
Hiten lifted one of his naturally sculpted eyebrows at that train wreck of a reaction, but rather graciously refrained from commenting on it.
"Her family owns a large shrine, don't they? It's not like they get so many visitors—it's bound to be spacious enough that there must be some unused part they can spare…", he reasoned.
"Maybe we can talk her into renting it to us?"
"How do you even know the condition of the Higurashi's shrine?", Sesshōmaru questioned, mimicking what the other was doing with his own pale eyebrows.
His family had known hers for years, and even he could barely remember how big that shrine was—in fact, he doubted Inuyasha could either, and that headache disguised as a person was there bothering them twenty-four seven, most days.
"I don't personally", Hiten shrugged, "but one of my cousins likes her—like a lot—so he's been there…ya know…in the hopes of coming across her—
"Which cousin?", Sesshōmaru asked.
"Bankotsu", his friend replied, waving him off again, "but who cares about that. She's your little brother's friend, right? They're like glued to the hip—see if you can convince her into lending us the place."
Sesshōmaru grew silent for a moment, seemingly thinking it over in his head several times.
He didn't like it—it was a stupid idea.
"I'm not going to bother Higurashi or her family with this", he replied at last, voice coated in finality.
"Oh, com on, Sessh!", his friend groaned, slamming his palm down in reckless desperation on the register before him—accidentally making it swing open with a loud ear piercing ring.
"There's nothing to lose!", he encouraged, making a show of closing said register as gently as possible, knowing that Hideki's murderous gaze still followed him.
"Then by all means, you do it"
"Well, as you can see for yourself, Taisho. I don't have time for that at the moment", Hiten gritted, "meanwhile, you're actually gonna see her later today."
Well, the taller boy admitted, it was hard to argue with that logic.
But he still didn't like it.
"…I'll only ask if all our other options don't fall through", Sesshōmaru acquiesced at last, releasing a tired sigh as he did so, before turning his attention towards the guitar section.
"Fine", his friend responded, then chuckled as he played with the ends of his long braid.
"What?", the silver haired teen asked, ignoring the amused look the other had sent him, in favor of curiously strumming a particularly shiny red electric guitar.
"Rock music playing inside an old ancient sacrilegious shrine? We're definitely going to hell"
Sesshomaru smirked, nodding in agreement—he refrained from informing Hiten that he very much believed both he and Menōmaru were already on the express line to hell, regardless of that.
Instead he turned to look at the set of guitar tuners stacked right under the display he had been observing with rapt attention.
"So, that's new", Hiten remarked after a while of contemplative silence.
"…what now..?", Sesshomaru muttered, bending down to retrieve a particularly costly brand that promised the best and most accurate clarity.
"Since when have you had a thing for music?"
"I can play the piano", the silver haired boy spoke, his voice fading as he read the directions on the back of the small box, "fairly well too", he admitted, "my mother was adamant I learn some kind of instrument from a young age"
Hiten frowned, "you never told me that."
"You never asked", his friend shrugged, lifting himself up to his full height before casually tossing the tuner at him to ring up.
"What does that have to do with guitars, though?", the dark haired teen sounded puzzled, even as he tossed the small box into a bag for Sesshōmaru.
"I'm just curious as to how much more different they can be from piano keys", the taller boy admitted, already turning back to stare at some guitar guide books thrown to side of the isle.
"Well, they both are technically strings", Hiten offered, uncertain by the sudden turn of events.
"Hn."
"If you want to join the band, you're gonna have to pick a different instrument, bud", the cashier chuckled, amusement returning to his dark red eyes as he gestured to the guitar section Sesshōmaru disappeared to once more.
—"I'm pretty sure this is Menōmaru's thing", he shook the bag holding the tuner for emphasis.
Even from deep into the isle, Sesshōmaru's snort was heard as clear as day.
"I have no interest in your silly band", he replied, emerging once more holding a lesson book much more suited for an elementary school student.
" Eh, 'My first guitar'…?", Hiten read out the tittle as he was handed it to ring up as well, "how long ago was it that you played any instrument, again?"
Gold eyes sent him an unamused glare, "I think Rin might enjoy learning how to play", he bit out, gesturing to a small nearby section of children's acoustics
"I'll bring her over once she's home, to pick out the one she likes best."
"Ah", Hiten nodded, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.
'So, it was all for Rin-chan, from the very start. Of course!'
That made sense.
From all the years he'd known Sesshōmaru, Hiten had never once seen him display any kind of musical interest, in the least.
The dark haired boy chuckled to himself.
It would have been beyond weird to see him do so now.
Menōmaru had mentioned just the other day, that their usually stoic friend had been acting a little weird lately—so it wasn't like Hiten hadn't been on the lookout for such odd behavior to start with…he just hadn't expected to see it so soon.
And yet…
Naturally, as the self appointed troublemaker of the group, he felt it was his duty nonetheless, as the official shit stirrer, to—well, stir some shit…and see what came out of it.
"Rin-chan's cute and all", Hiten spoke, his voice playful as he bagged the rest of Sesshomaru's purchase with a nonchalant sigh, "but isn't it about time you spent all this extra energy of yours on an actual girlfriend?"
The silver haired boy's face was as blank as it was cold and emotionless, "No".
"Your loss then", his friend snorted, pressing a few random buttons on the cash register before waiting for the receipt to pop up.
"I mean, who cares about being big brother of the year when you're constantly surrounded by such attractive girls all the time—but do you, I guess.", he shrugged.
Sesshōmaru sent the dark haired boy a somewhat disturbed look—what was this particular brand of idiot up to now, he wondered.
"If you have something you want to say, I suggest you simply spit it out", he pointedly made a show of checking the time on his watch, for emphasis.
"I'm just saying, you had a bunch of cute girls in your car", Hiten reasoned, placing the receipt in the bag before handing it to the taller boy, "yet rather than spend your day with them, you're still here trying to pamper your baby sister—who's away at camp."
Now it was Sesshomaru's turn to snort, "I was in a car full of children, there's nothing attractive about that."
Hiten smirked, now he was getting somewhere.
"Menōmaru said Higurashi-chan is looking pretty grown up since the last time he saw her", he gestured to his chest area rather suggestively, "are you saying he's a sick, lying perv?"
Sesshomaru lifted a rather stoic brow, "are you saying he's none of those things?", he merely countered.
The grip on his plastic bag, however, seemed to tighten slightly.
"True", Hiten nodded, unable to argue with such logical and sane reasoning, "but there has to be some truth to it—otherwise my cousin wouldn't be half as interested. I know the guy fairly well, you know."
Sesshōmaru scoffed, "If he's anything like you, no doubt he's a keeper."
His dark haired friend shook his head playfully, turning briefly to bow and yell out a welcome to a couple of unsuspecting costumers as they entered the store.
"Oh, Banks?" Hiten grinned, much too amused to notice the slight tick in otherwise cool and calmed golden eyes, "…no—no he's ten times worse than I could ever be."