A/N: Seventh installment, and still the main plot has yet to be
explained. ^_^;; Methinks I may need to get going on that- or
at least throw in some shameless fanservice. Preferences,
anyone?
"Further Fun With Dress-Up Dolls"
Being as Makoto was a damned liar and Hojou an insanely inconvenient person, both of them were currently up the tree Inu- Yasha had previously been and eavesdropping like mad, being clever bastards and sneaking up while Shindo was hugging Kagome and Inu-Yasha was sulking. Makoto was mostly focused on his uncle (and a little bit on looking down Kagome's shirt), while Hojou was focused exclusively on looking down Kagome's shirt. Fuck idealism and naiveté, no boy was stupid enough to miss a chance like that.
So the duo heard the entire conversation (understanding only the words "I," "you're," and "you") and filed it away for a later date upon which it would most likely blow up in someone's face. Then Kagome and the other two walked off and Seira caught them.
"You idiots, what are you DOING up there?!" Seira yelled.
"Spyin'," Makoto chirped at the same time Hojou said, "Looking down Higurashi's shirt."
Seira was more inclined to believe her cousin than the lecher and promptly threw her bookbag right in Makoto's face. "Pervert!" she fumed.
"Yah, I love ya too," he retorted dryly, barely keeping himself from falling the ten feet to the ground.
Seira blushed brilliantly and threw her shoe at him. Makoto caught it and inspected it critically.
"This is bran'-new," he observed with a resigned sigh.
"You get 'hazed' again?" Hojou asked dubiously.
"Yup." Seira smirked. "Third year girl- the same one I was fighting the first day of school."
"This really ain't the healthiest way ta let off steam," Makoto complained. "One o' these days, someone's goin' ta figure out that all these so-called 'bullies' are the ones gettin' beat up."
"Well, they deserve it," she protested. "They WOULD'VE hazed me if I hadn't beaten them up."
"But yer shoes STILL had to go the route of the incinerator so nobody'd find out ya were in a fight, so what was the point?" Makoto pointed out. "I dunno why it's such a big deal, Sei- chan; lots o' people're schoolyard punks an' grow up perfectly respectable."
"They do?" Hojou blinked at him.
"You know damn well what the big deal is, Mako-kun," Seira snapped. "I've never taken a karate lesson in my life!"
"It's brawlin', not martial arts!" Makoto exclaimed.
"How many times am I going to have to explain this?!" Seira demanded. "Even the best brawlers can't use techniques that they've never practiced!"
"So what does that make you?" Hojou wondered, giving her a curious look as he ran his hands through his hair.
"Tell me when you figure it out," she retorted grimly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ooo, wear THIS one, Sango!" Miroku begged, holding up a miniskirt he'd snitched out of Kagome's dresser. "It would be so cute!"
"You're joking, right?" she demanded, glaring icily at him.
"But you've got such fantastic legs, Sango," he complained. "You shouldn't hide them all the time!"
"The day you run around in something that shows off YOUR legs that much, I'll wear it," she snapped.
The monk instantly brightened. "Okay!" he chirped, eagerly diving back into the closet.
Sango twitched. "Why do I encourage him?" she wondered aloud in a resigned voice.
"Because you just adore me that much," he said confidently, resurfacing in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt, gym shorts, and sandals. The outfit clashed hideously, and of course he loved it.
"You are an utter idiot," Sango said flatly.
"But I'm still a remarkably attractive utter idiot!" he crowed triumphantly. Unfortunately, Sango had to agree, and she slipped into the bathroom to change into the skirt- somehow she already knew that he'd run off without her if she didn't, and no doubt still in that hideous shirt.
When she returned, however, she found Miroku naked and struggling to master the fine art of fashion while stuck with the difficult choice between denim shorts and denim cut-offs. Cue the exterminator's blush and furious shriek; cue the startled monk toppling over onto the floor.
"You could've knocked," he said dryly.
"You could've kept your CLOTHES on!" she screamed.
"Where's the fun in that?" Miroku asked in bemusement. A few sound slaps later, they were both finally dressed- Miroku in jeans and a white tank top and Sango in the detested skirt and an oversized sweater.
"Kagome-chan certainly has a diverse closet," Sango muttered, returning the unused clothes to their hangers.
"Indeed," Miroku agreed, calmer now that they were both fully clothed again and soon to be on their way to track down Kagome and Inu-Yasha. "Perhaps some of these clothes were purchased for Inu-Yasha . . .? Hm, I suppose we'll have to leave the weapons here," he added with a slight frown, changing the subject completely.
"Don't worry, I have a few blades under my sweater," Sango informed him as they headed down the stairs. "Just try to stick close to me if anything looks dangerous."
"You're my hero, Sango," he said in amusement, pulling his ponytail out and sliding on a pair of tinted sunglasses he'd found on the hall table. "Now then, my dear exterminator- how best to track down our erstwhile companions?"
"How else?" she asked with a snort. "Just follow the sound of chaos. Inu-Yasha's sure to be causing a ruckus."
* tbc . . . *
. : r3v]3w; ]7'5 good phor j00 : .
"Further Fun With Dress-Up Dolls"
Being as Makoto was a damned liar and Hojou an insanely inconvenient person, both of them were currently up the tree Inu- Yasha had previously been and eavesdropping like mad, being clever bastards and sneaking up while Shindo was hugging Kagome and Inu-Yasha was sulking. Makoto was mostly focused on his uncle (and a little bit on looking down Kagome's shirt), while Hojou was focused exclusively on looking down Kagome's shirt. Fuck idealism and naiveté, no boy was stupid enough to miss a chance like that.
So the duo heard the entire conversation (understanding only the words "I," "you're," and "you") and filed it away for a later date upon which it would most likely blow up in someone's face. Then Kagome and the other two walked off and Seira caught them.
"You idiots, what are you DOING up there?!" Seira yelled.
"Spyin'," Makoto chirped at the same time Hojou said, "Looking down Higurashi's shirt."
Seira was more inclined to believe her cousin than the lecher and promptly threw her bookbag right in Makoto's face. "Pervert!" she fumed.
"Yah, I love ya too," he retorted dryly, barely keeping himself from falling the ten feet to the ground.
Seira blushed brilliantly and threw her shoe at him. Makoto caught it and inspected it critically.
"This is bran'-new," he observed with a resigned sigh.
"You get 'hazed' again?" Hojou asked dubiously.
"Yup." Seira smirked. "Third year girl- the same one I was fighting the first day of school."
"This really ain't the healthiest way ta let off steam," Makoto complained. "One o' these days, someone's goin' ta figure out that all these so-called 'bullies' are the ones gettin' beat up."
"Well, they deserve it," she protested. "They WOULD'VE hazed me if I hadn't beaten them up."
"But yer shoes STILL had to go the route of the incinerator so nobody'd find out ya were in a fight, so what was the point?" Makoto pointed out. "I dunno why it's such a big deal, Sei- chan; lots o' people're schoolyard punks an' grow up perfectly respectable."
"They do?" Hojou blinked at him.
"You know damn well what the big deal is, Mako-kun," Seira snapped. "I've never taken a karate lesson in my life!"
"It's brawlin', not martial arts!" Makoto exclaimed.
"How many times am I going to have to explain this?!" Seira demanded. "Even the best brawlers can't use techniques that they've never practiced!"
"So what does that make you?" Hojou wondered, giving her a curious look as he ran his hands through his hair.
"Tell me when you figure it out," she retorted grimly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ooo, wear THIS one, Sango!" Miroku begged, holding up a miniskirt he'd snitched out of Kagome's dresser. "It would be so cute!"
"You're joking, right?" she demanded, glaring icily at him.
"But you've got such fantastic legs, Sango," he complained. "You shouldn't hide them all the time!"
"The day you run around in something that shows off YOUR legs that much, I'll wear it," she snapped.
The monk instantly brightened. "Okay!" he chirped, eagerly diving back into the closet.
Sango twitched. "Why do I encourage him?" she wondered aloud in a resigned voice.
"Because you just adore me that much," he said confidently, resurfacing in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt, gym shorts, and sandals. The outfit clashed hideously, and of course he loved it.
"You are an utter idiot," Sango said flatly.
"But I'm still a remarkably attractive utter idiot!" he crowed triumphantly. Unfortunately, Sango had to agree, and she slipped into the bathroom to change into the skirt- somehow she already knew that he'd run off without her if she didn't, and no doubt still in that hideous shirt.
When she returned, however, she found Miroku naked and struggling to master the fine art of fashion while stuck with the difficult choice between denim shorts and denim cut-offs. Cue the exterminator's blush and furious shriek; cue the startled monk toppling over onto the floor.
"You could've knocked," he said dryly.
"You could've kept your CLOTHES on!" she screamed.
"Where's the fun in that?" Miroku asked in bemusement. A few sound slaps later, they were both finally dressed- Miroku in jeans and a white tank top and Sango in the detested skirt and an oversized sweater.
"Kagome-chan certainly has a diverse closet," Sango muttered, returning the unused clothes to their hangers.
"Indeed," Miroku agreed, calmer now that they were both fully clothed again and soon to be on their way to track down Kagome and Inu-Yasha. "Perhaps some of these clothes were purchased for Inu-Yasha . . .? Hm, I suppose we'll have to leave the weapons here," he added with a slight frown, changing the subject completely.
"Don't worry, I have a few blades under my sweater," Sango informed him as they headed down the stairs. "Just try to stick close to me if anything looks dangerous."
"You're my hero, Sango," he said in amusement, pulling his ponytail out and sliding on a pair of tinted sunglasses he'd found on the hall table. "Now then, my dear exterminator- how best to track down our erstwhile companions?"
"How else?" she asked with a snort. "Just follow the sound of chaos. Inu-Yasha's sure to be causing a ruckus."
* tbc . . . *
. : r3v]3w; ]7'5 good phor j00 : .