The House Next Door
Disclaimer – I don't own Inuyasha. Nope.
Author's Note – Yes, I am starting a new fic. Screw you all; I couldn't resist. Don't worry, I will definitely update my other stuff . . . eventually.
This is based off the novel "The House Next Door" by Richie Tankersly Cusick. Excellent book. Enjoy!
***
Chapter One – The House Next Door
***
"You've decided WHAT?"
"Come on, it's a great idea!" Sango chirped, grinning. "The assignment is to write about something strange or scary, right? You and Miroku are the perfect subject."
Kagome momentarily forgot the books, papers, and junk food that was spread across the tatami. She glared over at her best friend.
"Sango-chan, please tell me you're kidding. And please tell me Miroku's the weird one."
Her face brightened. "No, really! Everyone's fascinated by twins – the way they bond and communicate – "
"He yells, 'Oi, baka!' That's how Miroku communicates."
"Very funny." Sango flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder. "It's a great idea! And since I know you two so well, the interview won't be all awkward and stuff. It'll be a very sensitive, soul-searching, in-depth kind of thing."
"Miroku has no depth."
Sango leaned against the dresser, inspecting a pink-painted fingernail. "This is me ignoring you. In any case, I have three weeks to come up with brilliant questions for the both of you."
"Here's one," Kagome spoke up sarcastically. "How about the theory that my REAL twin was separated at birth, and someone left Miroku on our doorstep as a bad joke?"
"Not exactly what I had in mind," Sango said with a frown. "Well, remember when I interviewed that medium for the school newspaper?"
"And how she turned out to be a big fake?" Kagome countered, smirking.
"That's not the point!"
"Then what is?"
"The point is," Sango snapped, "I still did an excellent interview. And my paper on you and Miroku will be a – a masterpiece!"
Kagome sighed, running a hand through her raven hair. "Look, just forget about this idea. Write about something INTERESTING, something YOU think is scary."
Sango scoffed. "Do you really think Akita-sensei will give me an 'A' on 'What If No One Asks Me To The Winter Dance'?"
"Someone will ask you. Someone ALWAYS asks you."
"Yes, but I want a DIFFERENT someone to ask me. Not the same old someones who always do."
"Any someones I might know?" Kagome asked casually, but Sango pointedly ignored her. Kagome sighed.
"You can always go alone," she pointed out.
Sango's eyes widened. "I'd be mortified!"
"You can go with me. I don't have a date either."
"You never do."
Kagome narrowed her eyes. "Feeling mean, are we?"
Sango rolled her eyes. "Come on, everyone knows you're much too picky."
In spite of the joking tone, Kagome bristled. "Hey, I would love to have a boyfriend! So what if I'm holding out for what I really want?"
"Because what you want could never exist," Sango answered calmly. "You've told me about your dream guy hundreds of times. Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. Nobody is that perfect. Speaking of which, when are we gonna redo this crappy room of yours?"
Kagome shook her head. "It's not crappy. It's antique." She gazed about the room, taking in the faded sheets of the futon, the worn-out tatami mats, the straw sliding doors. "Antique," she repeated. "It belonged to some great-great-great aunt on my dad's side, from the Edo Era, and I like it. It makes me feel like I'm in . . . a sweeter time."
Sango raised an eyebrow. "Sweeter time? Dull, yes. Sweet, no. You're way too serious. It drives me nuts."
"It's my job to be serious. Someone has to keep you in line."
Kagome settled herself on the futon, unwrapping a candy bar. Sango stood and slinked over to the window.
"Now what are you doing?"
Sango lifted the curtain and peered into the night.
"I bet I know what you're paper's about," she began softly. "The scary house next door . . . where ghosts and ghouls peer in at Higurashi Kagome . . ."
Kagome tried her best to look nonchalant. "The old Morita place? Why would I write about that?"
"Because it's creepy and spooky and the whole place should be torn down."
"This whole neighbourhood needs to be torn down," Kagome muttered, and Sango gave her a sympathetic glance.
"At least it's not like the crazy Onimura house," she said. "Those girls have been there forever."
Kagome giggled. The two sisters, Kagura and Kanna, lived on the other side of the neighbourhood, and had long been a part of the local folklore. Kanna, the older yet shorter one, was pale and innocent-looking, with long, light blonde hair that seemed almost white. The younger yet taller one, Kagura, had short, dark brown hair that was always pulled up into a bun, held in place with two white feathers, and a figure that would have been appealing to the men her age, had she not covered it up with baggy gothic clothing.
According to the legends, the girls used to be normal school-children like Kagome and Sango, but reverted into silent, anti-social moods after the tragic death of their parents. No one really knew what had happened to the adult Onimuras, but if you had asked the girls, they would insist that they were killed by a spider demon. No one believed them.
"You remember when I tried to turn my car around in their driveway?" Sango snickered. "And the tall one came out throwing rocks at me?"
"You were wearing a Noh mask, for Kami's sake. And they weren't rocks, they were peanuts. She was feeding the birds when you showed up, practically giving her a heart attack."
Sango rolled her eyes. "It was the day of the Festival. In any case, those girls are crazy. This area's note safe – I wish you guys would move."
Kagome wished so, too. Her current residence was torn and run-down – one of the oldest in the district – but ever since the death of Kagome's father, there hadn't been enough money to even consider living anywhere else.
Sango, however, lived in a district on the west side, with her own car, a swimming pool, and a house maid. Sango was the oldest daughter of a prominent surgeon; Kagome's mother was the night-shift nurse. Sango had been to America five times; Kagome had never left Tokyo. But despite their differences in upbringing, the two teens had hit it off right away the first day of school.
Kagome smiled at the memory.
She and Miroku had just started living there, and though Miroku had been an instant hit with everyone, Kagome felt isolated in her new surroundings. She'd been sitting alone at lunch when Sango had approached her, the skirt of her green and white fuku swaying with her hips.
"Hey, new girl!" Sango plopped down without an invitation, helping herself to a piece of Kagome's pastry. "You are new, right?"
Startled, Kagome nodded slowly.
"Yeah, well, being new sucks, I know." Sango grabbed her hand and shook it. "I'm Kouda Sango, also new in Tokyo. I'm from Fukuoka, born and raised, and also the daughter of Mr. Just-Appointed-Head-Honcho at the hospital, meaning that I've been kidnapped and brought here kicking and screaming against my will. I don't know anyone, but that's okay, since the girls around here seem to think they're SO special, which they're not, and they have a silly little rule about not letting new girls in their cliques. So, the way I see it, we can form our own clique. What do you say?"
That had been four years ago. Kagome had eventually made other friends, though Sango was, by far, the most popular girl in school.
"Kagome-chan, are you listening to me?"
Starting, Kagome looked up, blinking. Sango continued to stare out the window, her voice lowering to a shaky whisper.
"See how it just sits there? Like some big ol' corpse? Come and look."
Kagome sighed and got up, marching across the room. She stopped behind Sango, and together they gazed into the night.
Moonlight flashed behind the clouds, throwing the Morita house in and out of shadow. Chilling November wind fluttered across the drive, scattering snowflakes and dead leaves.
From here they could see well above the low wooden fences, across thick patches of wild, overgrown weeds and gnarled, tangled trees. Clumps of ivy and oak dangled from the roof, shading the torn, paper windows that lined the house. Despite the Edo setting, the house had a slightly Western feel to it, particularly due to the tattered, lacy curtains that shrouded each window.
Kagome always felt cold when she looked at the house. It was a chill that stung her very core, even on the hottest days and surrounded by people. She had told Sango and Miroku about it once, but the teasing she got was so harsh that she never mentioned it again. Even though they would never forget, or let her forget.
"Okay, Sango-chan." She pulled back from the window, shivering. "That's enough ghost stories for one night."
Sango's eyes twinkled. "D'ya really think it's haunted like they say?"
Before Kagome could answer, Sango turned back to the window, peering into the dark once more.
Kagome sighed and sank to the floor, picking up a stack of papers, rifling through them.
"All right, Sango-chan, I'll quiz you. Let's start with the haiku poets, then – "
Sango cut her off with a shaky whisper. "Kami-sama . . ."
Kagome frowned, skimming the paper with her dark eyes. "No, Akita-sensei said we weren't going into any religious aspects of – "
"Someone's there, Kagome-chan. In the house."
Kagome looked up. Sango was standing stiff as a board, her fingers gripping the windowsill, and when she spoke, her voice trembled.
"Someone's watching us, Kagome-chan."
Kagome forced a nervous laugh. "Come on, Sango-chan. Stop playing around. It's late and we're not even halfway done yet."
"I'm not joking!" Sango exclaimed, motioning for her to see. "In the window, look!"
Hesitantly, Kagome stepped forward.
"Turn off the light."
She reached for the switch, plunging the room into darkness.
"See?" Sango nudged her. "Look . . ."
A shiver crawled up Kagome's spine.
"I . . ."
Her breath caught in her throat. It was then that she saw the amber eyes.
Seeing them . . .
Watching them . . .
A gaze so piercing, so intense, that it chilled her very soul.
Disclaimer – I don't own Inuyasha. Nope.
Author's Note – Yes, I am starting a new fic. Screw you all; I couldn't resist. Don't worry, I will definitely update my other stuff . . . eventually.
This is based off the novel "The House Next Door" by Richie Tankersly Cusick. Excellent book. Enjoy!
***
Chapter One – The House Next Door
***
"You've decided WHAT?"
"Come on, it's a great idea!" Sango chirped, grinning. "The assignment is to write about something strange or scary, right? You and Miroku are the perfect subject."
Kagome momentarily forgot the books, papers, and junk food that was spread across the tatami. She glared over at her best friend.
"Sango-chan, please tell me you're kidding. And please tell me Miroku's the weird one."
Her face brightened. "No, really! Everyone's fascinated by twins – the way they bond and communicate – "
"He yells, 'Oi, baka!' That's how Miroku communicates."
"Very funny." Sango flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder. "It's a great idea! And since I know you two so well, the interview won't be all awkward and stuff. It'll be a very sensitive, soul-searching, in-depth kind of thing."
"Miroku has no depth."
Sango leaned against the dresser, inspecting a pink-painted fingernail. "This is me ignoring you. In any case, I have three weeks to come up with brilliant questions for the both of you."
"Here's one," Kagome spoke up sarcastically. "How about the theory that my REAL twin was separated at birth, and someone left Miroku on our doorstep as a bad joke?"
"Not exactly what I had in mind," Sango said with a frown. "Well, remember when I interviewed that medium for the school newspaper?"
"And how she turned out to be a big fake?" Kagome countered, smirking.
"That's not the point!"
"Then what is?"
"The point is," Sango snapped, "I still did an excellent interview. And my paper on you and Miroku will be a – a masterpiece!"
Kagome sighed, running a hand through her raven hair. "Look, just forget about this idea. Write about something INTERESTING, something YOU think is scary."
Sango scoffed. "Do you really think Akita-sensei will give me an 'A' on 'What If No One Asks Me To The Winter Dance'?"
"Someone will ask you. Someone ALWAYS asks you."
"Yes, but I want a DIFFERENT someone to ask me. Not the same old someones who always do."
"Any someones I might know?" Kagome asked casually, but Sango pointedly ignored her. Kagome sighed.
"You can always go alone," she pointed out.
Sango's eyes widened. "I'd be mortified!"
"You can go with me. I don't have a date either."
"You never do."
Kagome narrowed her eyes. "Feeling mean, are we?"
Sango rolled her eyes. "Come on, everyone knows you're much too picky."
In spite of the joking tone, Kagome bristled. "Hey, I would love to have a boyfriend! So what if I'm holding out for what I really want?"
"Because what you want could never exist," Sango answered calmly. "You've told me about your dream guy hundreds of times. Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. Nobody is that perfect. Speaking of which, when are we gonna redo this crappy room of yours?"
Kagome shook her head. "It's not crappy. It's antique." She gazed about the room, taking in the faded sheets of the futon, the worn-out tatami mats, the straw sliding doors. "Antique," she repeated. "It belonged to some great-great-great aunt on my dad's side, from the Edo Era, and I like it. It makes me feel like I'm in . . . a sweeter time."
Sango raised an eyebrow. "Sweeter time? Dull, yes. Sweet, no. You're way too serious. It drives me nuts."
"It's my job to be serious. Someone has to keep you in line."
Kagome settled herself on the futon, unwrapping a candy bar. Sango stood and slinked over to the window.
"Now what are you doing?"
Sango lifted the curtain and peered into the night.
"I bet I know what you're paper's about," she began softly. "The scary house next door . . . where ghosts and ghouls peer in at Higurashi Kagome . . ."
Kagome tried her best to look nonchalant. "The old Morita place? Why would I write about that?"
"Because it's creepy and spooky and the whole place should be torn down."
"This whole neighbourhood needs to be torn down," Kagome muttered, and Sango gave her a sympathetic glance.
"At least it's not like the crazy Onimura house," she said. "Those girls have been there forever."
Kagome giggled. The two sisters, Kagura and Kanna, lived on the other side of the neighbourhood, and had long been a part of the local folklore. Kanna, the older yet shorter one, was pale and innocent-looking, with long, light blonde hair that seemed almost white. The younger yet taller one, Kagura, had short, dark brown hair that was always pulled up into a bun, held in place with two white feathers, and a figure that would have been appealing to the men her age, had she not covered it up with baggy gothic clothing.
According to the legends, the girls used to be normal school-children like Kagome and Sango, but reverted into silent, anti-social moods after the tragic death of their parents. No one really knew what had happened to the adult Onimuras, but if you had asked the girls, they would insist that they were killed by a spider demon. No one believed them.
"You remember when I tried to turn my car around in their driveway?" Sango snickered. "And the tall one came out throwing rocks at me?"
"You were wearing a Noh mask, for Kami's sake. And they weren't rocks, they were peanuts. She was feeding the birds when you showed up, practically giving her a heart attack."
Sango rolled her eyes. "It was the day of the Festival. In any case, those girls are crazy. This area's note safe – I wish you guys would move."
Kagome wished so, too. Her current residence was torn and run-down – one of the oldest in the district – but ever since the death of Kagome's father, there hadn't been enough money to even consider living anywhere else.
Sango, however, lived in a district on the west side, with her own car, a swimming pool, and a house maid. Sango was the oldest daughter of a prominent surgeon; Kagome's mother was the night-shift nurse. Sango had been to America five times; Kagome had never left Tokyo. But despite their differences in upbringing, the two teens had hit it off right away the first day of school.
Kagome smiled at the memory.
She and Miroku had just started living there, and though Miroku had been an instant hit with everyone, Kagome felt isolated in her new surroundings. She'd been sitting alone at lunch when Sango had approached her, the skirt of her green and white fuku swaying with her hips.
"Hey, new girl!" Sango plopped down without an invitation, helping herself to a piece of Kagome's pastry. "You are new, right?"
Startled, Kagome nodded slowly.
"Yeah, well, being new sucks, I know." Sango grabbed her hand and shook it. "I'm Kouda Sango, also new in Tokyo. I'm from Fukuoka, born and raised, and also the daughter of Mr. Just-Appointed-Head-Honcho at the hospital, meaning that I've been kidnapped and brought here kicking and screaming against my will. I don't know anyone, but that's okay, since the girls around here seem to think they're SO special, which they're not, and they have a silly little rule about not letting new girls in their cliques. So, the way I see it, we can form our own clique. What do you say?"
That had been four years ago. Kagome had eventually made other friends, though Sango was, by far, the most popular girl in school.
"Kagome-chan, are you listening to me?"
Starting, Kagome looked up, blinking. Sango continued to stare out the window, her voice lowering to a shaky whisper.
"See how it just sits there? Like some big ol' corpse? Come and look."
Kagome sighed and got up, marching across the room. She stopped behind Sango, and together they gazed into the night.
Moonlight flashed behind the clouds, throwing the Morita house in and out of shadow. Chilling November wind fluttered across the drive, scattering snowflakes and dead leaves.
From here they could see well above the low wooden fences, across thick patches of wild, overgrown weeds and gnarled, tangled trees. Clumps of ivy and oak dangled from the roof, shading the torn, paper windows that lined the house. Despite the Edo setting, the house had a slightly Western feel to it, particularly due to the tattered, lacy curtains that shrouded each window.
Kagome always felt cold when she looked at the house. It was a chill that stung her very core, even on the hottest days and surrounded by people. She had told Sango and Miroku about it once, but the teasing she got was so harsh that she never mentioned it again. Even though they would never forget, or let her forget.
"Okay, Sango-chan." She pulled back from the window, shivering. "That's enough ghost stories for one night."
Sango's eyes twinkled. "D'ya really think it's haunted like they say?"
Before Kagome could answer, Sango turned back to the window, peering into the dark once more.
Kagome sighed and sank to the floor, picking up a stack of papers, rifling through them.
"All right, Sango-chan, I'll quiz you. Let's start with the haiku poets, then – "
Sango cut her off with a shaky whisper. "Kami-sama . . ."
Kagome frowned, skimming the paper with her dark eyes. "No, Akita-sensei said we weren't going into any religious aspects of – "
"Someone's there, Kagome-chan. In the house."
Kagome looked up. Sango was standing stiff as a board, her fingers gripping the windowsill, and when she spoke, her voice trembled.
"Someone's watching us, Kagome-chan."
Kagome forced a nervous laugh. "Come on, Sango-chan. Stop playing around. It's late and we're not even halfway done yet."
"I'm not joking!" Sango exclaimed, motioning for her to see. "In the window, look!"
Hesitantly, Kagome stepped forward.
"Turn off the light."
She reached for the switch, plunging the room into darkness.
"See?" Sango nudged her. "Look . . ."
A shiver crawled up Kagome's spine.
"I . . ."
Her breath caught in her throat. It was then that she saw the amber eyes.
Seeing them . . .
Watching them . . .
A gaze so piercing, so intense, that it chilled her very soul.
