Disclaimer: Inuyasha and co. owned by Rumiko Takahashi, Shounen Sunday, Shougakukan, Viz, etc.
Author's Notes: Third and hopefully final rewrite of The Diet Goddess. I still haven't changed the rating because though Inuyasha swears a lot –well, so Kouga does too, but that's beside the point- and Miroku rubs a lot, it still isn't bad in any other way. Sure it can be chalk full of innuendo and fluffy moments, but let's face it –PG-13 is the best advertisement since some people don't read R. winks
Anywho, decided to switch back to the whole first person thing. Like my beta Sashlea said, it adds a little more character and personal feel to the story, which I realized I wanted to go for. This story is dedicated to several people –Sashlea, for her wonderful betaing, advice, and help, SushiiSquirrel for being as much of a procrastinator as I am and for promising to name her first child after me, to my mother for releasing the computer curfews she had me locked in for a few days, and finally to foxshadow because I feel like dedicating something to her.
Hope you enjoy!
PS- I have to break the first chapter up into two parts because it ended up being eleven pages long after Sash and I were done with it –normally I write about 6 to 8. Sorry for the inconvenience …
The Diet Goddess
Chapter One
The Perfect Dress
Higurashi Kagome was one of those types that made everyone around her feel like they had to be good and perfect to even say a simple hello to her, but she herself had no clue that she was this way. Many would say her heart was almost too big, that she was, in fact, too kind.
Those people, however, were the people that didn't know her very well –Kagome was just like everyone else, maybe a little bit smarter and kinder and prettier than average, but she had her faults. She went to school, tried her hardest (okay, so maybe that wasn't average), got good grades (she was in the top 30 even though she didn't do well in math –in fact she sucked royally and had to study incredibly hard to just get a passing grade), for the most part was very laid back, (there were some people that were able to set her nerves on edge with just a few words and fewer people than that were able to get her into a fight –well, in fact there's only one person but we don't meet him till chapter three), and generally enjoyed squealing with her friends about the cute boys that walked the halls of their school campus.
The one boy they squealed about the most was none other than Takamoto Houjou. He was in 12th grade, smart, handsome, and a basketball player. How he managed to become one was beyond the male half of the school's population and beyond me too, though it didn't seem beyond the girl population at East Tokyo High. Houjou, was in fact, somewhat of a wimp. He tried to do his best, really, but he never quite made it far enough to be considered a star player. This, as I have said before, was overlooked or covered up by at least half of the school's population (the girl half that is).
Kagome, sadly enough, was no exception.
Many people believe my mother acts too much like a teenage girl to discipline me. Well, basically that's my mother in a nutshell; she's thirty-nine, still looks like she's in her early twenties, and giggles and gossips almost as much as Ayumi does. (Ayumi's one of my friends –why we're almost attached at the hip I don't know, since she and I have nothing in common beyond having had a crush on the same guy our freshmen year of high school.) The only thing about Mom that shows her age is that she packs her offspring –which is my brother, Souta, and me- bento boxes every school day and the fridge is always filled with food no adult in their right mind would eat.
My mother –her name's Michiko, though only her friends call her that anymore and they've reduced even that to Mi-kun –is where I get my temper from. Most parents have their limits, and so does my mother, but her boundaries are so far away I have to use binoculars to see them. Doing drugs and becoming a prostitute are obviously on the list of things not to do, but I know that I'll never do those things so I never worry about it. Hell, if I came home with several piercings my mother probably wouldn't even bat an eyelid, although I'm sure I'd send my grandfather to the ER.
I should have just left my hair alone. There's nothing I can do with it really –normally I just comb it and let it hang down in waves to my waist, but today that just wouldn't cut it for some reason or another. I'd already tried pigtails, braids, ponytails, and French twists, but nothing seemed to agree with me. If Ayumi were here she'd do my hair. Ayumi's the one who wears heavy mascara around her eyes and who knows how to put the blush on just right so it looks natural. Last year, when I went to the prom with Bankotsu, I had Ayumi come and do me over. I was the only sophomore to go and the pictures are somewhere in one of the scrapbooks my mom likes to put together for a hobby.
(It all turned out great. Bankotsu and I already knew each other one way or another -we can't actually remember how we first met- and the only reason he asked me to go was so that he could make his boyfriend, Jakotsu, jealous. They had had a terrible fight bout three days prior about a girl that had hit on Bankotsu. Bankotsu thought of it as a favor and so did I. Plus we had a great time, and even laughed when Jakotsu "accidentally" spilled punch all over my dress. The pair even received a few girlish catcalls when they promised never to fight again –which was a downright lie- and started making out. I got a ride home with Yuka's older brother. All in all, I would do it again in a heartbeat.)
Unfortunately Ayumi lives on the other side of town and I would have to take a few trains and walk about a mile to get here. I let my dark hair slide through my fingers with a defeated sigh. I hate my hair, I hate my hair, I hate my hair. Even after a quick brush through I still hated it and grabbed a green elastic band just in case -even though if I did end up putting my hair into a ponytail it's so incredibly thick that it eventually comes down sooner rather than later. Yuka has the right idea –she's been my friend since fourth grade and she's had the same hairstyle since then. It's cut short, right underneath her earlobes, and she keeps the bangs from coming into her eyes by wearing her good luck headband that, unfortunately, is bright yellow. How it came to be her lucky headband is beyond everyone who knows her. Sometimes I daydream about lobbing all my hair off like Yuka, but Ayumi would go ballistic.
When I finally did get to my public high school that Wednesday morning–I had to hurry through breakfast and then run the five blocks to the place because of my little hair obsession- Ayumi, Yuka, and Eri were already lounging underneath one of the trees out front. The four of us had made it our unofficial meeting spot when we first got to high school –it was a wonder that we had all gotten into the same school and we were taking advantage of that. Eri had been going to a different middle school when I first met her in the sixth grade, but we still became fast friends and spent almost everyday going to WacDonald's, shopping at the mall, or just hanging out with the other two.
"Hey!" Ayumi yelled, smiling one of those smiles that's genuine and very easy to come by. Ugh. Unlike me, she was a morning person. Come to think of it, she's an afternoon and night person as well –I don't think I've really ever seen Ayumi not being perky or cheerful, excluding that one time her only long-term boyfriend broke up with her. After that the boys of East Tokyo High learned to beware of the pretty headhunter. "Hey Kagome, we have news!"
I jogged over- I was a little out of breath considering I had nearly just sprinted the past five blocks- and plopped down on the ground, trying to regain my physical composure. "What news?" I spurted out in one breath. Ayumi looked at the other two, her brown eyes sparkling. Ayumi was rather pretty, with a round face, big eyes, and shoulder length curly black hair. She had a wonderful smile, but right then it was rather scary since I knew I was probably going to be the victim of the rather cunning look she was sharing with the others.
"The posters are plastered all over the place. The Senior Farewell Dance is coming up soon, right after the three week vacation." Eri said, taking another bite out of her breakfast. This morning it's Poptarts –Eri had to catch the train in the mornings and didn't have time for a full meal like I did. Her mother also worked strange hours, seeing as she was a doctor, and her father would burn down half of Tokyo if he tried to cook. "Ayumi wants to get you to go with Houjou.
The said girl glared at Eri, sticking out her bottom lip. Over the years she had perfected that look, often getting guys to buy meals or presents for her with that face. It had no effect on Eri whatsoever. Eri was always brutally honest and straight to the point. She thankfully also possessed an incredible amount of tact and wouldn't say things she knew would come back to haunt her later –her wisdom and wit made her a favorite among teachers. Unfortunately for them, they didn't know her outside of school, in which case she was very daring party animal.
"Oh come on, he'll ask anyway." Yuka said, grabbing a little piece of Poptart from Eri who scowled. "He's been after you for ages, but he's shy. He's waiting till the Senior Farewell Dance to ask you out." Yuka was probably the only average one there. Whereas was I prone to sudden outbursts, she was quiet and shy, though not to the extent of being reclusive. It took her a lot of guts to ask a guy out –not that she was looking. We all knew she had been eyeing Mazuka Satoru for some time. I liked the guy and thought they would be perfect for each other.
I ran a hand through my hair, waving the other in front of my face nervously, and all the while spitting out, "I don't think he's going to ask me out anytime soon guys. I mean, that freshman that he hangs around with some times is really looking after him…" I hated when the topic of Houjou came up because I always got flustered. It's true that I had feelings for him, because let's face facts: what girl doesn't?
"Her?" Ayumi snorted and crossed her arms. "Why would Houjou be interested in her when he's looking after you? You and everyone else here knows that he's fallen for you ever since the tutoring sessions."
"Plus I beat he's a romantic at heart, waiting for the right moment to ask you out. What could be more perfect than at the Senior Farewell Dance? Since we're juniors this year we'll be able to go without a date, and it'll be fun, kinda like having a prequel prom." Eri said, shifting the backpack in her lap.
Yuka chuckled a little before asking sarcastically, "I wonder what could be more romantic than getting your first kiss in a room full of sweaty, horny teenagers?"
Ayumi sent her a death glare, but Yuka brushed it off and tried to grab another piece of Eri's Poptart. She failed miserably. Before I could say anything else and deny it all like I did every time this subject came up, the bell rang and we had to run off for our first classes. It was like that almost every morning and we yelled good-bye to each other as we raced off.
My first class was biology. Fun fun fun. Anyway, Satoru was in that class and if I was lucky we'd get to pick our lab partners for that day's experiment. As I pushed through all the bodies of East Tokyo High to get to my class, I noticed a little poster hanging from the bulletin board across the hallway, advertising the upcoming dance.
Unwittingly, my stomach turned over.
You know how you can work yourself up over the stupidest things, but to you they seem to be the most important thing at that time? Like a little kid dropping a cookie, and whining and crying about how he wants that certain cookie that is lying on the ground, and refuses take the other cookie that's handed to him?
Here's a little foreshadowing on my part; I did the exact same thing, but with a little difference and a little bigger concept.
The Senior Farewell Dance. It was always held during two months before the end of the school year, and the only reason the Senior Farewell Dance was held so early was because the pressure of end-term exams and the other big dance of the year –prom- took up the time of both students and teachers. Nobody has a clue why it was started up, but as far as anyone knows, it's gone on since the creation of East Tokyo High and hasn't stopped since. It was always held the Saturday before we returned from our vacation.
I was in 9th grade when I first saw the poster for it. Of course I had heard about it; it was only the biggest thing in high school! (Well, next to prom anyway.) Everyone went and showed off or ultimately disgraced themselves. Me… well, I was going to show off. I needed to go to that Farewell Dance and entrance Houjou so well that he would be like a fly caught in a spider's web, forget his shyness, finally pop the big one, and I would become his girlfriend.
Four days later and still dateless, I decided to go out and shop for my dress to wear. (I was really bored as well –it was Sunday and I had spent most of the morning pacing around my bedroom.) Hopefully karma will finish what I began, like it did with Yuka. On Thursday, the lure of our three week vacation that was only a week and a day away was so close that Satoru had a breakdown today and literally swept Yuka off her feet as soon as the closing bell rang. If our English teacher hadn't been such a romantic, I'm sure that she would have given Satoru enough detention to last him the rest of the school year.
With a baby blue Senior Farewell Dance poster clutched in my hands I ran to the nearest shop, and began my search. It didn't take very long at all to find the perfect dress, despite the little legend about girls being able to go through eighty different stores and not finding a single thing. Three shops into what, in my mind at least, was turning into one of the biggest dress hunts of my life, I found it, the perfect dress, the one that was going to bring Houjou and me together. It was in the back of a second-hand shop, a dingy, musty old place with hardly any lighting. But I kept looking, the phrase 'one man's trash is another man's treasure' the only thing keeping me from leaving.
But the dress… It was perfect. I don't know why or how it got into this place (on later, closer inspection I saw that there was a hole near the hem, but nothing I couldn't fix) but I was overjoyed. I squealed and held the dress up to my body. I think the cashier might have given me a funny look when the strangled squeal escaped my lips, but I couldn't be quite sure. I had found the perfect dress! Everything was going to be perfect, and Houjou would finally ask me out. Maybe I'd even get my first kiss!
The dressing room was small, dimly lit, and smelled no better than the main part of the store; however, I still rushed in, almost throwing off my clothes to try the dress on. It was a wonderful gray, kind of like the color of clouds right before it rains, and it was silk to the touch. It was tight around the chest and it pooled down around my feet like it was made of water. It also had one of those high, mandarin collars you often see in Chinese dresses, and it had no sleeves as well. There was an outline of a silver panda eating bamboo on the v-shaped waistline, which only made me love it all the more. I ignored the way it felt tight. After all, it was supposed to cling like that, wasn't it? I loved it even more on me, and spent a good part of ten minutes cooing at my reflection. It brought out the granite of my eyes –I was the only one to have natural eye color that wasn't brown or black in the whole 11th grade.
Then I turned to the side to view my profile and nearly fell over. My smile fell instantly, my happiness scattered, and I didn't know whether to punch the glass or cry. While attractive enough from the front, it was hardly so from the side.
Oh gods… My stomach! My back! My ass!
I looked like I was almost pregnant for heaven's sake! The material squeezed tightly and it didn't flatter my chubby body. The skin stuck out at the back, and my butt looked like it could lose something.
Don't get me wrong; never, not once before have I ever complained about my figure. Sure I knew that I wasn't as skinny as a supermodel and was probably an extra ten, fifteen pounds too heavy, but I wasn't fat! I had always been a little bit on the chubby side, and it had never bothered me before. Sure Ayumi was stick thin, sure Yuka could look like a swimsuit model when she tried, sure Eri was skinny from running around in track, but I looked good in my chubbiness. Sure I knew that I would never be a model despite my long legs and pretty face, but it hadn't bothered me. Most of the time, I was actually proud that I was able to be chubby and cute at the same time.
That is, I was proud and happy, up until that moment. It hadn't bothered me before, but now it did. How was I supposed to impress Houjou? I would disgrace myself, and become the laughing stock and reject of high school for no more than 16 weeks and no less 14! Houjou would never want to go out with me then!
I wanted that dress. There was no way that I wouldn't get it –I was stubborn, just like my father had been, and although I had no idea how I was going to slim down in a mere three weeks, there was still no way that I was going to leave that store without the dress.
For what seemed like a long while I stared at the mirror, ignoring the splotches of dirt here and there. I barely noticed the knock at the changing room door. When the door began to squeak open I turned around to see the woman who worked the cash register looking at me. I faked a smile and asked to buy the dress. She opened her mouth, obviously noting that it didn't exactly fit me, to offer a larger size, but I held firm. It was the only dress of its kind in the place anyway.
"I like it. How much?" I said confidently, but the woman who was graying at the temples, just stared back at me, gaping like a fish. After a few, awkward moments, the woman offered a price in a shaky voice. The price cheered me up a little bit -not only was the dress perfect, but it was cheap too! (Which in retrospect, I should have guessed because it was from a second hand shop after all.) I, the girl with the too small, perfect dress that had a price that was too perfect to believe, handed her a wad of money and told her to keep the change.
I showed it to my mother when I got home and she cooed over it as much as I had, maybe even a little more, and the other two members of my family just grunted. They were guys after all, one being a senile old man and the other a growing teenager. I didn't care. I took it up to my room, repaired the rip I found, and got around to thinking how I could lose that ten or twenty pounds I would have to loose in order to get that dress to fit perfectly.
Of course I thought of diet and exercise, but I knew that would fail. I couldn't do it without the support of others, and though my mother might let me do it, she would definitely not support me and heap food onto my plate. (She thought I was too skinny the way I was and would resort to the big guns -a.k.a. oden- to keep me from wasting away.) My friends were going away on vacation for some of the three weeks we had off and I couldn't go into a gym all by myself –I felt oddly out of place among all the other obviously very fit members when Ayumi had dragged me along the few times she went.
That dress was made for me -the thought of trying to find another dress didn't even occur to me- and there was no way that I wouldn't wear it. So to fit into it perfectly, all I needed to do was lose a few pounds, right? Shouldn't be too hard, right?
Right…