Prologue
Full Summery—AU—After Inuyasha's father dies, he faces a rough life with a changed mother and a non-existent brother. Tight roping the poverty line, he struggles to survive and mend his broken home. Inu/Kag
AN: Even though I am posting this story (have no fears) I am not stopping my other fic "Not That Social." Trust me, I have no life. So I will be able to update them both.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN INUYAHSA! If I did, I would be swimming in a ginormous (I know that's not a word) pool of chocolate pudding and making all the people I hate kiss my ass. So yeah, don't sue.
He didn't like yelling at her. It made him feel dirty; it made him feel like he was doing something wrong. But sometimes he couldn't help it. She was always right there, nagging the hell out of him until he snapped. If there was anyone to blame, it was her. He was sure of that, now.
He yelled more in self-defense than anything else, but he always felt guilty when it was all over. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. Things were supposed to be all smiles and sunshine, puppies and white picket fences. But that was far from the truth. The truth was, things were bleak and there was no light at the end of this tunnel.
Sometimes he couldn't help but feel as if it was his fault that they fought all the time. He was told on more than one occasion that he was the one that ruined her life, and, even though he didn't necessarily show it, it hurt every time those words left her mouth. She was supposed to be the one person he could turn to when he was down, the one person who could comfort him with kind words and cookies. But that wasn't the kind of person she was. Not anymore.
"Inuyasha, get your ass down here!" He heard her yell from the base of the stairs.
Groaning and rolling off of his worn bed, he climbed to his feet and shuffled to his door. His feet snagged on bits of dirty clothing every once and a while and he just kicked them away without a second thought. His room was a mess like always, and he had no plans of cleaning it any time soon.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw his mother standing at the bottom with her hands on her hips and her right foot tapping vigorously on the hard wood floor. She had a 'don't-mess-with-me' look on her face, and Inuyasha knew to keep his mouth shut until she opened hers first. He didn't yet know why she was mad, but he figured it had something to do with him.
"I thought I told you to take out the trash. The garbage man will be coming around tomorrow," she scowled at him, her eyes never leaving his face. She was waiting for him to respond. He thought about mumbling something snide under his breath just to make her angry, but decided that it wasn't worth the effort.
"Yeah, whatever," he answered, pushing past her and heading for the kitchen where the trash was piled by the back door. The kitchen itself was in shambles, dirty dishes piled to the ceiling in the sink and rust coating the faucets. The small porcelain refrigerator sat against the back wall, chipped and empty. His mother was never much of a cook, and the kitchen reflected that.
Grabbing the four bags of trash, Inuyasha swung open the back screen door with a screech and headed for the curb. His mother wasn't always like this. He remembered a time when she was actually happy; when everything was the way it was supposed to be. He remembered when his father was still alive. But that was a long time ago, and Inuyasha saw no point in living in the past. This was his life now.
He dropped the bags on the curb by the bent and useless garbage bins, and stopped to stare at the sky before he headed back inside. It was a grey overcast kind of day, where the sun was completely blocked out by thick, grey clouds. They weren't choppy or defined, like the white ones where you can sit for hours picking out shapes. It looked more like a thick grey blanket was tossed over the earth.
It was going to rain soon.
As he turned and began heading back to the house, a thought crossed his mind. It was cold outside, but it was even colder inside. He decided that the park down the street held a lot more appeal than the run down house. Giving the finger to the ramshackle house just to spite it, he turned around and began walking down the chipped concrete sidewalk.
Inuyasha could see his breath in the cold air and it made him want a cigarette. He stopped by a small shop on the corner and bought a pack and a new lighter. He wasn't legally old enough to buy the cigarettes, but he knew the old man behind the counter and he could care less how the youth of today decided to kill themselves.
Lighting the cigarette, Inuyasha stopped for a second and reveled in the feeling of the nicotine filling his lungs. 'Damn, now that's what I'm talking about,' he thought.
Even though the clouds blocked the sun out, he could tell that it was setting. The streets were clearing and the park was virtually empty, just the way he liked it. He sat down on an abandoned swing at let his thoughts take flight.
Something wasn't right, though. He felt tired, as if he had just run a mile. The stress of the day was finally catching up to him and he felt like he didn't have the energy to even push the swing. 'Is that what a toy feels like when it's batteries run down?' he thought absently, closing his eyes and concentrating on the feeling of the air blowing through his hair. The smell of burning leaves in the distance caught his attention and he allowed a small smile to spread across his lips. Despite it being cold and grey, the evening seemed perfect. As if it was set up just for him.
But as all good things do, it had too come to an end. It was growing increasingly dark out and he knew that his mother wouldn't be happy if he stayed out all night again. Stubbing his cigarette out on the yellowing grass, he hopped off the swing and began heading home. He enjoyed the walks, these few moments when he was all by himself. It felt good to not have anyone nagging at you.
Inuyasha caught sight of his house a block up and sighed. This wasn't the best neighborhood, and everyone knew it. Before his father died, they lived a much better life. They weren't rich, but they had money. Looking back on it now, Inuyasha would kill to have some of the stuff he threw away back then. He was young and naïve, money meant nothing to him and he showed that in all of the stuff he owned. Video games, fancy clothes, toys, toys, and more toys! He had it all.
But when his father died they had to mortgage the house and sell everything they didn't need. Inuyasha's mother never had a job; instead she relied on his father to bring in the income. They never expected him to die at such a young age.
A car flew down the street, honking its horn and snapping Inuyasha from his thoughts. He was on his front porch and he hadn't even realized it. Funny, how you can just black out like that when you're thinking about the past…
The second he opened the door his sensitive nose was assaulted with the bitter scent of vodka. 'There's no way she could be drunk already,' Inuyasha thought as he wandered into the living room. 'Then again, she never ceases to surprise me.' The living room light was off and the curtains were drawn, a thick smoke from several still burning cigarettes in the ashtray on the end table circled around the room, giving it a mysterious atmosphere. And there, lying half on, half off the couch, was his mother, an empty bottle of vodka dangling limply in her hand.
"God, you make me sick," he mumbled as he grabbed a blanket from the shabby chair nearby and draped it over her shoulders.
AN: A lot of people thought that this was about Inuyasha and Kagome when they read the first part, but I bet you were (at least) mildly surprised to find out that it was his mom he was talking about. Or not, because you read the info…either way, that's kind of what I was trying to do. So yeah, I hope it worked.
Review, please!
