Chapter 3: Don't Burst My Bubble
-
Thoughts, an endless stream of words and bits and pieces of phrases, swum in Inuyasha's mind. He stood gaping, trying to make sense of what he had just heard.
Then, through the jumbled clamor, one sentence broke through.
What—have—I—done?!
His body seemed detached from his brain, and he looked around. He saw Miroku walking aimlessly in the halls. Well—aimlessly wasn't quite the word.
Miroku was standing near a group of giggling girls, whistling innocently, while his hand—slap!
Inuyasha would have laughed, if he didn't feel like such a rotten worm. Yet another handprint was etched on his face. Miroku shrugged.
"Miroku! Get your butt over here!" Inuyasha hollered. Seeing his best friend, Miroku walked over to his locker.
"Miroku! Do you know what we did?" Inuyasha yelled, as a bunch of kids standing near them moved. Miroku blinked.
"Kagome!" Inuyasha groaned. "Prank call...money...groceries...cancer!"
Miroku stared, wide-eyed. "Inuyasha, calm down. You're not making any sense. Say it one more time, but slower."
Inuyasha glared. He didn't want to say it again. He felt terrible about it already; admitting it would make it seem so real. But Miroku was the one who got him into this, right? So he would repeat it once, even if only to get it through his friend's thick skull.
Inuyasha took a deep breath. Here goes.
"We prank called Kagome. She believed us and spent her family's money, and it can't be refunded. And her mother is dying of lung cancer!"
Miroku felt his stomach drop. "Let me get this straight. Not only are we letting her mother die, we made her family broke too?"
Inuyasha slammed his fist against the lockers. A resounding clang greeted him. His fist was throbbing with pain yet he didn't feel it.
All he felt was a blinding white-hot rage that needed to be let out. He needed to vent. It couldn't be held in anymore. And it was directed at Miroku.
"Miroku, you idiot! This was all your fault! You just had to decide on prank calling!"
Inuyasha sounded like a brat and he knew it. Which only succeeded in making him more angry.
"Don't take your anger out on me, Inuyasha," Miroku stated calmly. "It was your idea for the lottery, and your idea to prank call Kagome."
"We—both of us—" Miroku said pointedly, "are going to deal with this together. Somehow."
"Argh!" Inuyasha hollered. Why did Miroku know him so well?
Even more annoyed, Inuyasha rammed his foot against the wall. Thud. Then, all his anger spent, he sagged his shoulders.
"How are we gonna deal with this?" he groaned.
Miroku sighed. "I think the first thing to do if for you to tell her—uh oh. Late for class. Later!" He sped off.
"Wait, me?" Inuyasha glared at his retreating back. How dare he just leave? Then Inuyasha sighed. Really, it was his fault. And it was up to him to make it up to Kagome.
No matter what the costs.
-
Literature (creative writing) class...
"Okay, class," the teacher smiled up from her huge granny glasses. "We are going to write a short poem—"
"About what?" a student interrupted.
"I was getting to that!" she snapped. "Okay. A short poem on how you feel right now!"
She clasped her hands together, her smile cheery, and glanced at the class as if expecting them to all stand up and cheer.
Instead, a loud groan erupted. The teacher glared. "That's the assignment, whether you like it or not!"
The class seemed like robots as they sighed simultaneously and all took out their notebooks.
Kagome smiled. She was feeling a number of things. Writing each emotion down, she came up with a list. 'Relief, happy, content, gratitude.'
And anger. Anger at her father.
Frowning, she crossed out the fifth one. Nothing should spoil her mood. Especially not her father. She smiled as her pencil scrawled words down.
Everything was so familiar...the hum of the air conditioning, the rustle of paper, and the scratching of pencils and pens.
And she hoped nothing would change.
-
Inuyasha stared glumly down at the piece of binder paper in front of him.
How he felt? That was garbage. No one, including him, cared.
Groaning, he picked up his pencil and scribbled something down.
Even he didn't know what he had written until he looked. Inuyasha assumed it was a scribble or something of the sort.
But one word was written:
Guilt.
-
Sango was concentrating deeply, absorbed in her writing. I have the best idea! she thought. Until—
Poke.
She whirled around. "That hurt!"
Miroku grinned at her.
"Miroku!" she hissed.
Seeing his grin annoyed her. Though she knew she was overreacting, she balled her fists in anger.
He had made her forget her idea. Her best idea, the best she ever had during the whole year—scratch that, her whole high school years! All because he had poked her.
And he was gonna pay.
Sango crumpled up her poem in a tight ball, smiling innocently when the teacher looked at her. Then, when she turned away, she chucked it over her shoulder.
It hit Miroku right on the forehead.
"Ow!" he muttered, rubbing the red spot on his head. Then he smiled. "But it wasn't worse than a slap."
Kagome, who seemed to be in her own little world, had looked up just in time to see the ball whack Miroku.
Front row seat, Sango smirked. Lucky. I wish I could've seen that.
Kagome giggled, and Miroku pretended to give her a glare. But he couldn't help but laugh, too, good-natured as he was.
For some reason, she couldn't help but stare. Behind his perverted ways, there was something Sango admired about him...
Wait, what am I saying? she demanded of herself.
Miroku, catching her stare, grinned even more widely.
Great, Sango groaned. My poem is a crumpled ball in Miroku's desk, and that pervert probably thinks I'm in love with him, too.
-
Lunch...
Sango was chewing contentedly on her salad. What was with Kagome today? she wondered, taking a sip of her water. She couldn't stop smiling all day.
"Hi!" Kagome said cheerfully, plunking her lunch tray down on the table.
Sango looked up. Yep, Kagome was grinning. "Why are you so happy all of a sudden?" she asked.
Kagome smiled. "Oh, nothing. I think I had a little too much sugar yesterday."
There was something behind her "nothing." Sango was sure, but she couldn't figure it out.
Oh well. She wouldn't have to deal with this much longer.
No more perverts, no more mood swings, just her, her computer, and the weekend. Thank God today's a Friday.
-
Inuyasha's heart pounded. It was the end of the day, when he decided he would tell Kagome. He took a deep shaky breath as he rehearsed his speech.
"Kagome? Um...can I talk to you?"
Inuyasha carefully led Kagome through the crowd of students eager to go home.
Oh boy. Let's get this over with.
-
"So what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked, a bit cautiously. Her heart pounded with anxiety. She didn't need any more surprises. Whatever it was, the look on his face wasn't too good.
"You know how I told you you won the lottery?"
Her eyes shone. Was he giving her the money?
"Well," he said hastily. "It was a joke. Miroku and I were prank calling. There is no money."
The last four words hit her like a slap in her face.
Kagome's face paled, her mind spun, as she gasped, "What?"
-
Thoughts, an endless stream of words and bits and pieces of phrases, swum in Inuyasha's mind. He stood gaping, trying to make sense of what he had just heard.
Then, through the jumbled clamor, one sentence broke through.
What—have—I—done?!
His body seemed detached from his brain, and he looked around. He saw Miroku walking aimlessly in the halls. Well—aimlessly wasn't quite the word.
Miroku was standing near a group of giggling girls, whistling innocently, while his hand—slap!
Inuyasha would have laughed, if he didn't feel like such a rotten worm. Yet another handprint was etched on his face. Miroku shrugged.
"Miroku! Get your butt over here!" Inuyasha hollered. Seeing his best friend, Miroku walked over to his locker.
"Miroku! Do you know what we did?" Inuyasha yelled, as a bunch of kids standing near them moved. Miroku blinked.
"Kagome!" Inuyasha groaned. "Prank call...money...groceries...cancer!"
Miroku stared, wide-eyed. "Inuyasha, calm down. You're not making any sense. Say it one more time, but slower."
Inuyasha glared. He didn't want to say it again. He felt terrible about it already; admitting it would make it seem so real. But Miroku was the one who got him into this, right? So he would repeat it once, even if only to get it through his friend's thick skull.
Inuyasha took a deep breath. Here goes.
"We prank called Kagome. She believed us and spent her family's money, and it can't be refunded. And her mother is dying of lung cancer!"
Miroku felt his stomach drop. "Let me get this straight. Not only are we letting her mother die, we made her family broke too?"
Inuyasha slammed his fist against the lockers. A resounding clang greeted him. His fist was throbbing with pain yet he didn't feel it.
All he felt was a blinding white-hot rage that needed to be let out. He needed to vent. It couldn't be held in anymore. And it was directed at Miroku.
"Miroku, you idiot! This was all your fault! You just had to decide on prank calling!"
Inuyasha sounded like a brat and he knew it. Which only succeeded in making him more angry.
"Don't take your anger out on me, Inuyasha," Miroku stated calmly. "It was your idea for the lottery, and your idea to prank call Kagome."
"We—both of us—" Miroku said pointedly, "are going to deal with this together. Somehow."
"Argh!" Inuyasha hollered. Why did Miroku know him so well?
Even more annoyed, Inuyasha rammed his foot against the wall. Thud. Then, all his anger spent, he sagged his shoulders.
"How are we gonna deal with this?" he groaned.
Miroku sighed. "I think the first thing to do if for you to tell her—uh oh. Late for class. Later!" He sped off.
"Wait, me?" Inuyasha glared at his retreating back. How dare he just leave? Then Inuyasha sighed. Really, it was his fault. And it was up to him to make it up to Kagome.
No matter what the costs.
-
Literature (creative writing) class...
"Okay, class," the teacher smiled up from her huge granny glasses. "We are going to write a short poem—"
"About what?" a student interrupted.
"I was getting to that!" she snapped. "Okay. A short poem on how you feel right now!"
She clasped her hands together, her smile cheery, and glanced at the class as if expecting them to all stand up and cheer.
Instead, a loud groan erupted. The teacher glared. "That's the assignment, whether you like it or not!"
The class seemed like robots as they sighed simultaneously and all took out their notebooks.
Kagome smiled. She was feeling a number of things. Writing each emotion down, she came up with a list. 'Relief, happy, content, gratitude.'
And anger. Anger at her father.
Frowning, she crossed out the fifth one. Nothing should spoil her mood. Especially not her father. She smiled as her pencil scrawled words down.
Everything was so familiar...the hum of the air conditioning, the rustle of paper, and the scratching of pencils and pens.
And she hoped nothing would change.
-
Inuyasha stared glumly down at the piece of binder paper in front of him.
How he felt? That was garbage. No one, including him, cared.
Groaning, he picked up his pencil and scribbled something down.
Even he didn't know what he had written until he looked. Inuyasha assumed it was a scribble or something of the sort.
But one word was written:
Guilt.
-
Sango was concentrating deeply, absorbed in her writing. I have the best idea! she thought. Until—
Poke.
She whirled around. "That hurt!"
Miroku grinned at her.
"Miroku!" she hissed.
Seeing his grin annoyed her. Though she knew she was overreacting, she balled her fists in anger.
He had made her forget her idea. Her best idea, the best she ever had during the whole year—scratch that, her whole high school years! All because he had poked her.
And he was gonna pay.
Sango crumpled up her poem in a tight ball, smiling innocently when the teacher looked at her. Then, when she turned away, she chucked it over her shoulder.
It hit Miroku right on the forehead.
"Ow!" he muttered, rubbing the red spot on his head. Then he smiled. "But it wasn't worse than a slap."
Kagome, who seemed to be in her own little world, had looked up just in time to see the ball whack Miroku.
Front row seat, Sango smirked. Lucky. I wish I could've seen that.
Kagome giggled, and Miroku pretended to give her a glare. But he couldn't help but laugh, too, good-natured as he was.
For some reason, she couldn't help but stare. Behind his perverted ways, there was something Sango admired about him...
Wait, what am I saying? she demanded of herself.
Miroku, catching her stare, grinned even more widely.
Great, Sango groaned. My poem is a crumpled ball in Miroku's desk, and that pervert probably thinks I'm in love with him, too.
-
Lunch...
Sango was chewing contentedly on her salad. What was with Kagome today? she wondered, taking a sip of her water. She couldn't stop smiling all day.
"Hi!" Kagome said cheerfully, plunking her lunch tray down on the table.
Sango looked up. Yep, Kagome was grinning. "Why are you so happy all of a sudden?" she asked.
Kagome smiled. "Oh, nothing. I think I had a little too much sugar yesterday."
There was something behind her "nothing." Sango was sure, but she couldn't figure it out.
Oh well. She wouldn't have to deal with this much longer.
No more perverts, no more mood swings, just her, her computer, and the weekend. Thank God today's a Friday.
-
Inuyasha's heart pounded. It was the end of the day, when he decided he would tell Kagome. He took a deep shaky breath as he rehearsed his speech.
"Kagome? Um...can I talk to you?"
Inuyasha carefully led Kagome through the crowd of students eager to go home.
Oh boy. Let's get this over with.
-
"So what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked, a bit cautiously. Her heart pounded with anxiety. She didn't need any more surprises. Whatever it was, the look on his face wasn't too good.
"You know how I told you you won the lottery?"
Her eyes shone. Was he giving her the money?
"Well," he said hastily. "It was a joke. Miroku and I were prank calling. There is no money."
The last four words hit her like a slap in her face.
Kagome's face paled, her mind spun, as she gasped, "What?"
