Chapter 2: by Kojika85
Aoshi gave an overly dramatic sigh as he sat watching the flickering
screen. Unconciously his thumb pressed the button on
the black rectangular instrument commonly known as a remote. He dared to allow
his thoughts to venture to his present demise. He seemed to go from popular
bass player in a semi-famous band, to a couch potatoe.
Oh how the fates seemed to frown upon him. It was all because of HER! A simple
slip of a girl, hardly anything to mull over, and yet, this creature had
managed to make his life a living hell.
Misao Makimachi. How he
loathed that name. Because of her and her incessant attentions, he had been
booted from his band only to watch on the sidelines as they made their climb to
stardom. Hardly the most noble of reasons to have comrades shun him.
He sighed once more and ran his hand through his wayward locks. His piercing
ice blue eyes gazed upon the screen, as he witnessed a cluster of insane asylum
escapees attempt to achieve an archaically simple goal. Surely these people HAD
to be insane, if they truly did compete in some of the ludicrous challenges
offered them. Then again, some people would do anything for money. This show
only succeeded in making that fact painfully obvious. Aoshi
gave a glare at the screen once more. Fools.
A shrieking resonating beside him tore him from his musings. Upon looking at
the caller i.d. he noted with some distaste, the
number of one of his more persistent creditors. No doubt, the hounds from hell
were nipping at his heels in the form of financial sharks. Funny how they
reminded him of a certain blue haired, blue eyed, blood hound. He spared one
last glance at the screen, his previous thought echoing in his mind.....'anything for money.'
Perhaps he, Aoshi Shinomori,
found himself in such dire straits, as to seek the financial stability offered
by a game show where people remarkably resembling humans, subjugated themselves
to such tortures. One question remained. Should he even entertain thoughts of
such wanton desperation? A quick look at his caller i.d.
beside him with it's numerous unanswered calls
answered that question for him. Yes, yes he was.
###############
Kouga sighed in long suffering. The nuisance
otherwise known as Ayame, was once more tightly latched onto his forearm. He noticed
with mild amusement as his hand became an interesting shade of red, causing his
veins to puff out. Said woman droned on about how much she was looking forward
to visiting the Pacific. True, he usually wasn't the type whom usually stooped
to dubious acts in order to rid himself of the
mindless prattle put out so effortlessly by Ayame,
but at the moment anything short of sewing her mouth shut appeared welcome.
True he had told the fiery red-head that they were going to the Pacific, but
conveniently left out the minor detail that it was not going to include a nice
hotel and spa. No, this trip was going to be somewhat different. He had made
sure that the two of them would be admitted to compete on the reality series
Survivor.
Surely the woman would turn pale at the notion of not having electricity and a
telephone in ready supply would cause her enough alarm to fail out right, if
not demand to be voted off the first chance she got.
Yes, then he would be left alone to enjoy the peace and quiet that accompanied
the great outdoors, as well as the company of someone other than the emotional
chatter-box he was forced to accompany. Her father being a major business
manufacturer, and his own financial prowess had landed him in this volatile
relationship.
She fawned over him, and he recoiled in fear of inadvertently being the cause
of her possibly breaking a nail. Heaven forbid one of the perfectly sculpted
bundles of dead cells should hope to detach itself. Hell she spent enough of
his money on the damn things that they deserved a bank account of their own.
Said nails were now dug deep into his skin. Kouga
looked down at his companion to see that she was looking at him with puzzlement
and anger.
"What did I do now?" His voice was surprisingly stable. Ayame looked at him in disbelief.
"Are you just going to sit there and allow that....that...waitor, to treat me with such disrespect?!?" Now all
eyes within the quaint restaurant were upon them.
"Well then let me rephrase that.....what did HE do now?" Kouga suppressed another sigh as she went on about how he
dared to attempt to serve her water from the tap rather than the cultured
purified and pampered water she had requested.
"I asked for a Dasani, and he gave me this
crap!" Said crap was now splashed all over the poor unsuspecting waiter as
he was close to wringing her spoiled neck. Had he chosen to do so, Kouga doubted anyone would have truly minded. He would more
than likely have received cheers from the other diners.
Kouga shook his head, and silently vowed to one day
find a woman whom he would be better equipped to court. After his little triste with this woman in the Pacific, he would be on the
prowl again. Certainly not all women were like this. Why can't more be like
HER? Kouga found his mind drifting back to a woman he
had met while back-packing on the Moores of England.
Time had long since erased her face, but her name and voice echoed through his
mind still. Someday I want to be with a woman like that. Outgoing, intelligent,
sincere, and most of all; a woman not afraid to get dirt underneath sculpted
nails!
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Inuyasha had just hung up the phone after another
costly long-distance talk with his long-time girlfriend. He couldn't believe
their luck. Somehow, they had both been selected to appear on the show
Survivor.
He tossed the baseball cap off his head and threw it towards the eight empty
Dr. Pepper cans lining his bar. He needed to practice his aim, never know if
that sort of thing will come in handy for those different challenges.
He couldn't help the sigh of happiness that escaped his lips. If he won the
million dollars he could afford to have Kagome move out to live with him in Philadelphia. Of course, he knew she
loved New York, but surely she would give up her ridiculous
idea of being a 'working woman' and be his wife.
What girl wouldn't want to marry him? He honestly couldn't think of any reason
for the two to not get hitched. They had dated for so long now. This game
should be the last spark in their lives before being married.
He smiled, his white canines flashing. This game would allow him to be her
knight in shining armor in front of millions of viewers. Maybe even in front of
billions of viewers! As soon as he won the show he knew exactly what he would
do. That's when he'd get down on one knee and propose, on live television.
Inuyasha kicked his dirty shoes onto his coffee
table, ignoring the fact that some of the sketches Kagome had made for him
during their vacation together were now soiled by the action. His life was
perfect and was only about to become more perfect.
Suddenly the phone rang again. "Shit," Inuyasha
cursed as he leapt to retrieve the phone from the cradle. It was Miroku. But he didn't hear a word he said as he stared in
horror at the ruined sketches in his living room. "Kagome's going to kill me."
"What?" Miroku asked confused from the other end of
the phone.
"Nothing, what did you say?" Inuyasha closed his
eyes, refusing to see the mud covered sketches. It was times like these that he
was glad that Kagome didn't live with him. She'd probably leave him in a
heartbeat with as much a neat-freak as she is. She was almost as bad as his
stupid older brother.
