Thank you all reviewers!!!!!!!!!!! Really appreciated! And KagomeGurl,
you are looking for a one-shot, not a full-length ficcie. Honestly.
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CARO MIO BEN (Thou, All my bliss)
April 26, 2004, Outside of school, 4:21......no, wait......4:22, Monday
My arm has FINALLY healed from that vicious attack, as I have come to refer to the blood draw as, but now there's this huge, ugly purple bruise there (not to say that I have anything against purple, even though I believe that green is a far better color, but not for a bruise.....that would be just plain freaky). Oh my gosh, even thinking about it makes me sick. I don't think I've got a good stomach for seeing blood. Good thing I don't like back in the feudal ages or something......that would so totally suck.
Oh damn. Mom isn't here yet. Seriously - let out at 3:00 only to be waiting by the curb at 4:22. Scratch that. Let out on a sunny afternoon at 3:00 only to be waiting by the curb, drenched, at 4:22 during a most unnerving flash thunder storm. The only way I'm able to write this is by pulling the book under my shirt, along with me and my fluffy purple pen, looking like some sort of freak without a head sitting on the sidewalk, white top (lucky me) drenched. Hell, no one will see me, anyway in this darkness. Much less hear my screams if a random serial killer stalks up and tries to rape me in the frigging COLD.
Ok. I think I've watched one too many scary movies. I have got to stop watching those horrid tapes. They're evil, mindless, and make me want to pull my head out of my shirt to check if any one's creeping up behind me, which, in this weather, might not be such a bad idea...... Checked the perimeter. I think I'm safe. But who knows - this IS Tokyo, the Mugging City, as my mother calls it.
Speaking of whom, where the hell is she? Oh my gosh, did she get in a car crash? Could our cute little mini have slid off the rode into the wrong lane causing an accident??? COULD MAMA BE DEAD?! That's it. As humiliating as it is, I'm officially going back to the school to call her, and I don't care if people remark about how I should have a car of my own, or maybe even a cell phone. Seriously, something fatal could have happened, here, people!
LATER OUTSIDE SCHOOL DOORS
Oh whoop-dee-doo. Guess what? The doors are locked. I'm cold, wet, scared, and my shirt is see-through on the ONE day I decided to go on strike and not wear a bra. Once again, I am NOT a geek. It's just that I think that a bit of asthma ails me, as I've said before, which my mom calls total pish-posh. After all, she reasons, I AM on the cross-country AND track team, as well as numerous other running sports (which is NOT on my own will, but HERS). What she fails to notice, however, is that I AM the only one ever panting after running for only, like, three minutes AND have trouble breathing when doing any other sport. Even tennis, which is just sad.
Thus did she decide to restrict me from wearing an undershirt of any kind instead of a bra - she refuses to believe that the bra strap makes me feel like I'm wearing a corset for my ribs, which, trust me, is not a good feeling. And it totally sucks that she can rule over every single item I wear, even if it's the undergarments. It's not like anyone's going to see them! So, as you can hopefully see by now, it isn't my fault that the whole world can probably see my ......erm ...... bits, for a lack of a better word.
It's all mom's fault that I'm out here, too. She's like the safest driver on the planet.......so if she isn't dead on the road somewhere, why did she forget me? I feel so unloved. And humiliated. And embarrassed to be locked outside of my own school on a stormy night, freezing to death without a jacket and wearing a frail little wet white shirt, scared for my own life. But mostly I feel unloved. And cold.
It just doesn't make any sense! The school closes at five, NOT 4:40!!! WHY would they lock ALL the doors? Oh my gosh. What if there really IS a stalker? What if a serial killer is out here, murdering innocent passerby, which is why the school locked down so early – to keep him out! OH MY GOSH! I'M GOING TO DIE!
Or maybe......or maybe Tokyo could be flooding, again, and I'll just be one of those thousands of idiotic people who are in denial that such a horrible natural disaster would ever kill them until it does. That's a LOT better than having a stalker suddenly pop out with a knife and threaten you with all you hold dear before KILLING you! I think. Neither has ever happened to me, before. Thank God.
Must calm down, now. I am not going to go all hysterical, this time. It's not like any one's going to pop out of the bushes with a gun and a license for PAIN. If I can't get in, and my cell phone is at home, as usual, and I can barely see and am about to catch pneumonia if I stay out here any longer, there is only one option. Walk home. And even though I could probably call from the center for disabled children across the street, I don't want to risk being mistaken for a disabled person, again. Ever again.
This diary is bad luck. But, then again, so is my life.
Oi, maybe I should just hitchhike. Really, can't be so bad. BRB.
LIKE, FIVE MINUTES LATER OR SOMETHING
I AM SO HUMILIATED! I am going to go dig a ditch, crawl in it, and die. Then I won't be so wet, AND I'll never have to show my face EVER again. I mean, honestly, of ALL the people. Hitchhiking sucks. REALLY, REALLY sucks.
So here it is, the most embarrassing moment of my life: first there's me, all alone, standing on the sidewalk, thumb sticking out in, apparently, the wrong direction. I'm, like, trying to strain my eyes through the rain to see the cars passing by, or maybe even hear them if only my ears weren't flooding over with water when suddenly a lightning burst fills the road with a sudden shock of light, allowing me to see the empty street ahead of me. And by empty, I mean set-up-a-tent, whip-out-the- barbecue deserted.
So, naturally, I decide to move down a few blocks, holding out my blue numb thumb as I walked. I was seriously considering going back to the disabled facility or whatever to call home (assuming they even have a phone – it's rumored it's totally non-technology) when suddenly, I see a car. And not just a car passing by and suddenly spraying me from head to toe with muddy sewer water, but a car parking by my little place on the sidewalk and suddenly spraying me from head to toe with muddy sewer water in the process. But a car had actually stopped by me, and so I was, like, jumping for joy. Finally! A ride!
But then I started to get scared. I mean, there could be some sort of perverted kidnapper/murderer in there for all I know. And then, like, a second before I was about to turn on my heel and scram, another sort of fear hit me. Because I recognized that car. I don't know how I even saw it through the rain, but I did. I mean, it's a Ferrari. You can't miss those with your eyes closed.
What followed seemed so slow and agonizing I felt as if time had suddenly morphed into a sloth. Which doesn't really make sense, but still – that's how I felt. The window slowly dragged down halfway, revealing the tip of shaggy black hair, highlighted white by another convenient flash of lightning. I think it was about now when I felt my mouth unhinge. The shaded window rolled down even further – I could see his manly eyebrows, golden eyes, full and serious lips, smooth jaw line and chin, long and slender neck...I vaguely realized I was staring at the latter, but didn't think to stop myself. Talk about a change of scenery. Screw that – talk about eye candy!!
He leaned over a bit, poking his nose out the silver window frame. But I didn't notice that. I didn't even notice the cold, or the rain, or even the thunder. My eyes had moved up a bit and gotten caught on his lips. I tried to free them, but didn't over-exert myself. No wonder the guy's a model. He's gorgeous.
"Need a lift?" he asked, lips barely moving. I stared, feeling myself blush. 'Say yes, Kagome, say it! Say it!'
"Uh-um...y-yes...?" I stuttered, gulping a little. Couldn't I be the aloof babe? Couldn't I be the one who didn't care about the popular guy? The cool, icy mystery who's poise every one admires? Couldn't I be anyone but the shivering, stuttering wanna-be groupie? Fate says no; I say damn.
"Get in," he says in that throaty, rusty voice of his, rolling up the window. I blink, startled. No mockery? No laughter? And what a savvy voice. Slowly, cautiously, I hedge my way past the front of the car and to the side, fumbling for the handle. The car was everything I was not: sleek, cool, and sexy. And elusive, that damn handle.
Finally, I get it open and practically fall through in my haste to get out of the rain and close to Inu-Yasha as fast as possible. He's gripping the wheel, staring ahead of him at the flooding road, knuckles a tad bit too white. The only sounds are the rain and window swipes as he turns the key and starts up the engine. After a few Awkward Moments of Silence, I sigh: I hate these blasted Awkward Moments of Silence. They unnerve me to no end.
"E-er, th-th-thank y-you," I state, trying to speak without quaking in nervous fear or from the cold and failing horribly. They both got worse on my next sentence. Why didn't I just shut my mouth? Oh yeah. Fate. "I-i-i- ttt, uuum, w-w-was v-v-v-v-er-ry n-n-n-nice o-o-of y-you," I chattered, teeth clicking together like crazy.
Damndamndamndamndamndamn. I wishwishwishwish I had poise, witty things to say, the works - just for now?
My arms were numb. If my nose fell off I wouldn't be surprised. My toes were, in my mind, nonexistent. At least I wasn't in pain, anymore. Physical pain, at least.
I tried to sit up straight and pretend like I wasn't all that cold – a little weather can't get to the ice-queen of aloofness and sexy-ness – but I'd forgotten that I was only queen of the geeks and nerds and nothing else and that I was very, very cold.
"Would you be quiet?" He asked, sending a dark glare over in my direction. I startled, unsure of what he meant. Then I realized that my chattering teeth were practically echoing off the car walls. But it wasn't my fault. It was his. He was wearing a jacket AND he was in control of the car's heaters. But did he help? No, he just complained.
It was suddenly like I was in the car with my little brother, and he'd asked me something really stupid. Maybe it was the cold, maybe I was PMS- ing, maybe I was in survival mode and didn't really care for appearances, or maybe some one had heard my plea and decided to get evil with it. But whatever it was, it made me say, rather shortly, "N-n-no."
I mean, who the heck says 'no' to Inu-Yasha like he's the village idiot while stuttering like crazy, no less? Especially when he's lending your own lowly self a ride in his high-n-mighty Porsche? No-one! Which is probably why I said it – I'm the queen of geeks and nerds, remember? How much lower can I sink?
A few more minutes of silence that, this time, I didn't mind – I was too in awe of my stupidity and lack of a sassy comeback. And too in awe of the fact that I really didn't care as much as I should have. The cold's freezing my brain, I just know it.
"Why the hell were you hitch-hiking? And why the hell aren't you wearing a bra?" He suddenly burst. My face exploded into a cloud of red. I'd forgotten. Wet, soggy T-shirt, bra hiatus. DAMNIT.
And how dare he say something like that? What a brute! How callous! How un-sexy, how un-Prince-Charming-like! How DARE he?! I couldn't think of anything to say, though, to that last comment, and wound up sputtering like some sort of dying fish. Eventually, he just fixed his eyes on mine, staring. I felt my indignant flush deepen to a blush. How. Embarrassing.
I quickly crossed my arms over my chest and looked away, now purposely pretending I was talking to Souta. Not as incredibly embarrassed anymore (which doesn't really say all that much), I answered simply, still staring at the dark through the window "M-mum d-d-d-didn't-t-t p-pi-ck m-me up-p an- n-nd I d-don't h-h-have a c-car or-or a c-cell-phone," I took a deep breath, deciding it would be better just to talk through my teeth, "just incase the phones are working, and that's none of your business," I answered his last question. "Y-y-you shouldn't even be l-l-looking." The teeth-clenching kinda worked. Depending on how hard I did it.
"That's the most moronic reasoning I've every heard, and I'm a guy – it's my job."
I flushed. Inu-Crude-Yasha. EW. Now I didn't even have to pretend it was my little brother speaking instead of Inu-Yasha. Embarrassed, angry, mortified, and feeling just a little harassed, I shot back, "It is NOT moronic, and even if it is, I bet even you couldn't do any-" his eyes flickered back to mine, again, and I felt my blush deepen (much to my embarrassment), my mind dimly registering that something warm was suddenly blowing against my legs and fighting the numb in my limbs and jaw –"any b- better...and g-get a new job. That one's gross."
He just raised an eyebrow at that, a corner of his mouth lifting in an 'I- don't-give-a-shit' sort of gesture. His mouth was so kissable. So, so kissable.
"And thanks for the heat," I finished, meaning the sudden warmth blowing against my legs. I didn't even have to clench my teeth, any more.
He just nodded, and sat there. I let my back touch the car seat, feeling my shirt plaster against it, feeling my muscles unclench and my muscles finally relax, free of the cold. I didn't realize the car was no longer moving. A few more seconds, then: "We're here."
I shot up, embarrassed again. That seems to happen to me a lot around Inu- Yasha. "Oh. Oh. Right," I said intelligently, fumbling with the door handle. After what seemed like forever, I stumbled out into the night, feeling suddenly deprived of the Ferari's warmth and my temporary dignity at having the last words. I was about to say good-bye when the door slammed shut and that sexy car wheeled backwards and skidded into a U-turn, narrowly missing Ji-chan's old Chevi.
Inu-Yasha's such an ass. But a sexy ass, and a kind of nice one, too – in his own annoying sort of way.
I can't sleep or stop smiling – seriously, it's 1:45 am, and it's all his fault. In a good way.
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CARO MIO BEN (Thou, All my bliss)
April 26, 2004, Outside of school, 4:21......no, wait......4:22, Monday
My arm has FINALLY healed from that vicious attack, as I have come to refer to the blood draw as, but now there's this huge, ugly purple bruise there (not to say that I have anything against purple, even though I believe that green is a far better color, but not for a bruise.....that would be just plain freaky). Oh my gosh, even thinking about it makes me sick. I don't think I've got a good stomach for seeing blood. Good thing I don't like back in the feudal ages or something......that would so totally suck.
Oh damn. Mom isn't here yet. Seriously - let out at 3:00 only to be waiting by the curb at 4:22. Scratch that. Let out on a sunny afternoon at 3:00 only to be waiting by the curb, drenched, at 4:22 during a most unnerving flash thunder storm. The only way I'm able to write this is by pulling the book under my shirt, along with me and my fluffy purple pen, looking like some sort of freak without a head sitting on the sidewalk, white top (lucky me) drenched. Hell, no one will see me, anyway in this darkness. Much less hear my screams if a random serial killer stalks up and tries to rape me in the frigging COLD.
Ok. I think I've watched one too many scary movies. I have got to stop watching those horrid tapes. They're evil, mindless, and make me want to pull my head out of my shirt to check if any one's creeping up behind me, which, in this weather, might not be such a bad idea...... Checked the perimeter. I think I'm safe. But who knows - this IS Tokyo, the Mugging City, as my mother calls it.
Speaking of whom, where the hell is she? Oh my gosh, did she get in a car crash? Could our cute little mini have slid off the rode into the wrong lane causing an accident??? COULD MAMA BE DEAD?! That's it. As humiliating as it is, I'm officially going back to the school to call her, and I don't care if people remark about how I should have a car of my own, or maybe even a cell phone. Seriously, something fatal could have happened, here, people!
LATER OUTSIDE SCHOOL DOORS
Oh whoop-dee-doo. Guess what? The doors are locked. I'm cold, wet, scared, and my shirt is see-through on the ONE day I decided to go on strike and not wear a bra. Once again, I am NOT a geek. It's just that I think that a bit of asthma ails me, as I've said before, which my mom calls total pish-posh. After all, she reasons, I AM on the cross-country AND track team, as well as numerous other running sports (which is NOT on my own will, but HERS). What she fails to notice, however, is that I AM the only one ever panting after running for only, like, three minutes AND have trouble breathing when doing any other sport. Even tennis, which is just sad.
Thus did she decide to restrict me from wearing an undershirt of any kind instead of a bra - she refuses to believe that the bra strap makes me feel like I'm wearing a corset for my ribs, which, trust me, is not a good feeling. And it totally sucks that she can rule over every single item I wear, even if it's the undergarments. It's not like anyone's going to see them! So, as you can hopefully see by now, it isn't my fault that the whole world can probably see my ......erm ...... bits, for a lack of a better word.
It's all mom's fault that I'm out here, too. She's like the safest driver on the planet.......so if she isn't dead on the road somewhere, why did she forget me? I feel so unloved. And humiliated. And embarrassed to be locked outside of my own school on a stormy night, freezing to death without a jacket and wearing a frail little wet white shirt, scared for my own life. But mostly I feel unloved. And cold.
It just doesn't make any sense! The school closes at five, NOT 4:40!!! WHY would they lock ALL the doors? Oh my gosh. What if there really IS a stalker? What if a serial killer is out here, murdering innocent passerby, which is why the school locked down so early – to keep him out! OH MY GOSH! I'M GOING TO DIE!
Or maybe......or maybe Tokyo could be flooding, again, and I'll just be one of those thousands of idiotic people who are in denial that such a horrible natural disaster would ever kill them until it does. That's a LOT better than having a stalker suddenly pop out with a knife and threaten you with all you hold dear before KILLING you! I think. Neither has ever happened to me, before. Thank God.
Must calm down, now. I am not going to go all hysterical, this time. It's not like any one's going to pop out of the bushes with a gun and a license for PAIN. If I can't get in, and my cell phone is at home, as usual, and I can barely see and am about to catch pneumonia if I stay out here any longer, there is only one option. Walk home. And even though I could probably call from the center for disabled children across the street, I don't want to risk being mistaken for a disabled person, again. Ever again.
This diary is bad luck. But, then again, so is my life.
Oi, maybe I should just hitchhike. Really, can't be so bad. BRB.
LIKE, FIVE MINUTES LATER OR SOMETHING
I AM SO HUMILIATED! I am going to go dig a ditch, crawl in it, and die. Then I won't be so wet, AND I'll never have to show my face EVER again. I mean, honestly, of ALL the people. Hitchhiking sucks. REALLY, REALLY sucks.
So here it is, the most embarrassing moment of my life: first there's me, all alone, standing on the sidewalk, thumb sticking out in, apparently, the wrong direction. I'm, like, trying to strain my eyes through the rain to see the cars passing by, or maybe even hear them if only my ears weren't flooding over with water when suddenly a lightning burst fills the road with a sudden shock of light, allowing me to see the empty street ahead of me. And by empty, I mean set-up-a-tent, whip-out-the- barbecue deserted.
So, naturally, I decide to move down a few blocks, holding out my blue numb thumb as I walked. I was seriously considering going back to the disabled facility or whatever to call home (assuming they even have a phone – it's rumored it's totally non-technology) when suddenly, I see a car. And not just a car passing by and suddenly spraying me from head to toe with muddy sewer water, but a car parking by my little place on the sidewalk and suddenly spraying me from head to toe with muddy sewer water in the process. But a car had actually stopped by me, and so I was, like, jumping for joy. Finally! A ride!
But then I started to get scared. I mean, there could be some sort of perverted kidnapper/murderer in there for all I know. And then, like, a second before I was about to turn on my heel and scram, another sort of fear hit me. Because I recognized that car. I don't know how I even saw it through the rain, but I did. I mean, it's a Ferrari. You can't miss those with your eyes closed.
What followed seemed so slow and agonizing I felt as if time had suddenly morphed into a sloth. Which doesn't really make sense, but still – that's how I felt. The window slowly dragged down halfway, revealing the tip of shaggy black hair, highlighted white by another convenient flash of lightning. I think it was about now when I felt my mouth unhinge. The shaded window rolled down even further – I could see his manly eyebrows, golden eyes, full and serious lips, smooth jaw line and chin, long and slender neck...I vaguely realized I was staring at the latter, but didn't think to stop myself. Talk about a change of scenery. Screw that – talk about eye candy!!
He leaned over a bit, poking his nose out the silver window frame. But I didn't notice that. I didn't even notice the cold, or the rain, or even the thunder. My eyes had moved up a bit and gotten caught on his lips. I tried to free them, but didn't over-exert myself. No wonder the guy's a model. He's gorgeous.
"Need a lift?" he asked, lips barely moving. I stared, feeling myself blush. 'Say yes, Kagome, say it! Say it!'
"Uh-um...y-yes...?" I stuttered, gulping a little. Couldn't I be the aloof babe? Couldn't I be the one who didn't care about the popular guy? The cool, icy mystery who's poise every one admires? Couldn't I be anyone but the shivering, stuttering wanna-be groupie? Fate says no; I say damn.
"Get in," he says in that throaty, rusty voice of his, rolling up the window. I blink, startled. No mockery? No laughter? And what a savvy voice. Slowly, cautiously, I hedge my way past the front of the car and to the side, fumbling for the handle. The car was everything I was not: sleek, cool, and sexy. And elusive, that damn handle.
Finally, I get it open and practically fall through in my haste to get out of the rain and close to Inu-Yasha as fast as possible. He's gripping the wheel, staring ahead of him at the flooding road, knuckles a tad bit too white. The only sounds are the rain and window swipes as he turns the key and starts up the engine. After a few Awkward Moments of Silence, I sigh: I hate these blasted Awkward Moments of Silence. They unnerve me to no end.
"E-er, th-th-thank y-you," I state, trying to speak without quaking in nervous fear or from the cold and failing horribly. They both got worse on my next sentence. Why didn't I just shut my mouth? Oh yeah. Fate. "I-i-i- ttt, uuum, w-w-was v-v-v-v-er-ry n-n-n-nice o-o-of y-you," I chattered, teeth clicking together like crazy.
Damndamndamndamndamndamn. I wishwishwishwish I had poise, witty things to say, the works - just for now?
My arms were numb. If my nose fell off I wouldn't be surprised. My toes were, in my mind, nonexistent. At least I wasn't in pain, anymore. Physical pain, at least.
I tried to sit up straight and pretend like I wasn't all that cold – a little weather can't get to the ice-queen of aloofness and sexy-ness – but I'd forgotten that I was only queen of the geeks and nerds and nothing else and that I was very, very cold.
"Would you be quiet?" He asked, sending a dark glare over in my direction. I startled, unsure of what he meant. Then I realized that my chattering teeth were practically echoing off the car walls. But it wasn't my fault. It was his. He was wearing a jacket AND he was in control of the car's heaters. But did he help? No, he just complained.
It was suddenly like I was in the car with my little brother, and he'd asked me something really stupid. Maybe it was the cold, maybe I was PMS- ing, maybe I was in survival mode and didn't really care for appearances, or maybe some one had heard my plea and decided to get evil with it. But whatever it was, it made me say, rather shortly, "N-n-no."
I mean, who the heck says 'no' to Inu-Yasha like he's the village idiot while stuttering like crazy, no less? Especially when he's lending your own lowly self a ride in his high-n-mighty Porsche? No-one! Which is probably why I said it – I'm the queen of geeks and nerds, remember? How much lower can I sink?
A few more minutes of silence that, this time, I didn't mind – I was too in awe of my stupidity and lack of a sassy comeback. And too in awe of the fact that I really didn't care as much as I should have. The cold's freezing my brain, I just know it.
"Why the hell were you hitch-hiking? And why the hell aren't you wearing a bra?" He suddenly burst. My face exploded into a cloud of red. I'd forgotten. Wet, soggy T-shirt, bra hiatus. DAMNIT.
And how dare he say something like that? What a brute! How callous! How un-sexy, how un-Prince-Charming-like! How DARE he?! I couldn't think of anything to say, though, to that last comment, and wound up sputtering like some sort of dying fish. Eventually, he just fixed his eyes on mine, staring. I felt my indignant flush deepen to a blush. How. Embarrassing.
I quickly crossed my arms over my chest and looked away, now purposely pretending I was talking to Souta. Not as incredibly embarrassed anymore (which doesn't really say all that much), I answered simply, still staring at the dark through the window "M-mum d-d-d-didn't-t-t p-pi-ck m-me up-p an- n-nd I d-don't h-h-have a c-car or-or a c-cell-phone," I took a deep breath, deciding it would be better just to talk through my teeth, "just incase the phones are working, and that's none of your business," I answered his last question. "Y-y-you shouldn't even be l-l-looking." The teeth-clenching kinda worked. Depending on how hard I did it.
"That's the most moronic reasoning I've every heard, and I'm a guy – it's my job."
I flushed. Inu-Crude-Yasha. EW. Now I didn't even have to pretend it was my little brother speaking instead of Inu-Yasha. Embarrassed, angry, mortified, and feeling just a little harassed, I shot back, "It is NOT moronic, and even if it is, I bet even you couldn't do any-" his eyes flickered back to mine, again, and I felt my blush deepen (much to my embarrassment), my mind dimly registering that something warm was suddenly blowing against my legs and fighting the numb in my limbs and jaw –"any b- better...and g-get a new job. That one's gross."
He just raised an eyebrow at that, a corner of his mouth lifting in an 'I- don't-give-a-shit' sort of gesture. His mouth was so kissable. So, so kissable.
"And thanks for the heat," I finished, meaning the sudden warmth blowing against my legs. I didn't even have to clench my teeth, any more.
He just nodded, and sat there. I let my back touch the car seat, feeling my shirt plaster against it, feeling my muscles unclench and my muscles finally relax, free of the cold. I didn't realize the car was no longer moving. A few more seconds, then: "We're here."
I shot up, embarrassed again. That seems to happen to me a lot around Inu- Yasha. "Oh. Oh. Right," I said intelligently, fumbling with the door handle. After what seemed like forever, I stumbled out into the night, feeling suddenly deprived of the Ferari's warmth and my temporary dignity at having the last words. I was about to say good-bye when the door slammed shut and that sexy car wheeled backwards and skidded into a U-turn, narrowly missing Ji-chan's old Chevi.
Inu-Yasha's such an ass. But a sexy ass, and a kind of nice one, too – in his own annoying sort of way.
I can't sleep or stop smiling – seriously, it's 1:45 am, and it's all his fault. In a good way.