A/N: Thank you for the reviews everyone :) I am so happy that I managed to finish another chapter of this story! Here is the second installment of The Suite Life. Special thanks to lilsanoku105 for reminding me about Kuranosuke. I totally forgot about him! But since you mentioned, I think he shall be in this story. Also, does this remind anyone of Eloise? I get my inspiration from that movie :)
Warnings: AU, mild swearing, OOCness for some characters (not too far off, just taken creative license with it and made them more fun and lovable to write about)
Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. Anyone willing to lend me Jakotsu?
The Suite Life
"Sango." Why are you back? How come you never wrote? What are you doing in a Couple's Suite? Miroku would love to say these (corny? cheesy?) things but it seemed that the only thing he could do was stand there and gape. He was rendered speechless, and he stood there (like an idiot) holding the ice bucket in one hand and the bottle of champagne in the other, like a good waiter would do.
"Hello Miroku, it's been so long," smiled Sango, her eyes shy. Miroku nodded, smiling politely. Say something idiot.
"How are you?" Pleasantries, great! If Miroku could've mentally slapped himself, he would. Sango let out a small laugh, a sound that would sound most pleasant in Miroku's ears as long as it was coming from her.
"I'm fine. You look well Miroku," she commented.
And it was true. He was anything but less than handsome. His black button-up shirt was neatly ironed and pressed against his body, well-fitting; the white tie that was required by all staff to wear was hung loosely around his neck; the half-apron tied around his waist over the black slacks that shaped his legs nicely. His black hair was neatly cut, bangs slightly array from moving around all day; his skin had a faded tan (than the pale white he use to have) from driving outside during summer. Amethyst eyes glimmer as he smiled, melting into the pools of the others' eyes. He was quite the package indeed.
Miroku was about to reply with a charming remark of his own when another voice interrupted. "Sango? Is the champagne ready?" It was a man's voice coming from inside her room. He looked at her questioningly. She smiled apologetically and without a word she took the champagne and ice bucket from Miroku's hands and went back into her room. The door closed with a silent echo through the halls.
"So that's how it's going to be huh?" said Miroku lightly, his eyebrows raised with an indescribable look. He shrugged and smiled and continued down the list of people he needed to serve.
& & & & & &
"Mr. Yakima I can not give you an extra breakfast coupon just because you 'lost' yours. Even if I allow it, our hotel policies won't," said Kikyou in a strained voice, repeating what she said over and over again to this 'senile' man for the past 10 minutes. "But I did lose it," he protested in a sorry-pathetic-whiny voice.
"Sorry Mr. Yakima. Perhaps you would like one of these coupons to our Cocktail Extravaganza? You look like you could use some cheering up."
"Cocktail my hemorrhoid asshole, bitch," he bit back, shuffling away. Kikyou snarled under her breath with another insult but was cut short––
"Orange juice delivery for Miss Kikyou!"
"Go away Miroku." said Kikyou, closing her eyes praying. It's only lunch. It's only lunch. He will be gone when I open my eyes. Eyes opened. He was there. Tough luck.
Miroku plopped the carton of Tropicana onto her desk, curly ribbons wrapped around the box with a fancy bow at the top. Hotel stickers were stuck all over the carton and a plastic twirly spiral straw was taped on the side. It was rather sweet. Miroku stood there expectantly, smiling.
"Thank you," she forced out, smiling a bit. A little bit.
"You're welcome. Only doing my job," shrugged Miroku, a bit of emphasis on 'job' so she won't nag him about slacking. "It's from Inuyasha."
"Really?" said Kikyou casually.
"Yes, he said you were a bit tense."
"Really?" This time with genuine surprise.
"Yep. I told him you were being a frigid bitch again so he sighed. I mean pft, sighing? Who sighs anyways––" Kikyou channeled out of Miroku's endless blabber and fingered the curls on the ribbons. Really nice.
"––and I can't believe he would steal the stickers I worked so hard on to steal from you and stick it there––"
It was certainly an odd gift, but the right thing to cheer her up. It wasn't the fact that it was orange juice (although no doubt she was a fanatic about it) but the thought was very sweet. And when you have a hopeless crush on someone, anything they do seems sweet. Wait, hopeless crush? frowned Kikyou.
"––you got to be the fair one. I'm not whining but he kicked me real hard today and––"
Miroku was such a whiner and the funny thing is, he thought Kikyou would listen to him. She must be real good at this zoning out thing. She quickly typed the last of the day's reports onto the computer, saved it and turned it off.
"––so he asked if you were busy or not, so naturally I said busy––"
"Wait what?"
"I said you were busy," blinked Miroku.
"No the other part," said Kikyou evenly.
"Oh, he asked if you were busy or not because he wanted to take you out to dinner or something."
"Are you going to be there?" Please say no, begged Kikyou praying to whoever could be up there. God, Mohammed, Buddha…anyone please.
"I'm busy tonight," said Miroku absentmindedly.
Kikyou noted the vague tone but didn't comment on it. She thanked her lucky stars that Miroku had something to occupy himself other than her possible shot at the man of her dreams. Man of my dreams? What the fuck is wrong with me today? she thought, closing her eyes and shaking her head.
"So are you going to go?" said Miroku, grinning a million watts. Uh oh.
"Yes. And no," she put up her hand stopping him, "you do not need to help me pick out an outfit." Miroku opened his mouth to protest but was cut short by the strip of stickers in front of him.
"Now, go."
He gave a little salute and waved the stickers as he went back to the kitchen. Yep, it's easy to shut him up if you know the right thing to do.
& & & & & &
"Hi Miroku!" chirped a young boy's voice. He was a 6 year old boy that lived in the plaza. Shippou, the boy, lived on the very top floor and was well known throughout the entire hotel staff. To put it nicely, he was rather self-centered.
"Hello Skippy," saluted Miroku. Shippou saluted back proudly. "Whatcha up to?" said Shippou, skipping along beside Miroku.
"Well, I still have to work but I get my 2 hour break starting at 5:45," said Miroku loading the cart with a variety of cakes. The Terrace Room was holding a bachelor's tea-party and the food needed to arrive there before the people do. He found it quite strange that a bachelor party was going to be at a high class hotel, and so…civil. Miroku always imagined his' to be wild, with booze and loud music and all that good stuff. Aside from catering, he also had to play the piano that night.
A piano at a Bachelor's (tea!)party. He still can't get it over his head at how weird (and stupid) it sounds.
"Whatcha doing tonight?" asked Shippou, climbing onto the metal table in the kitchen, dipping his finger into the bowl to taste the icing.
"I have to work, again," said Miroku good-naturedly. Shippou groaned.
"Want to help me set up the room? You can sort the dinner napkins if you want," smiled Miroku, bending down to eye level with the boy. He was quite fond of the boy, even though Shippou can be really demanding. Maybe it's because he love kids a lot.
"What, no date tonight?" teased Shippou. Miroku pretended to think for a moment, "Well I have you…"
Shippou let out a squeak, yelled GROSS! and ran out. He came back 2.4 seconds later. "So I'll meet you at the Terrace Room at 5:01 sharp!" and then he ran out again.
Letting out a chuckle, he put the last cake onto the cart and wheeled it out. He wheeled faster as the elevator ahead was closing. "Wait up!"
The bellboy inside quickly pressed open the door to let Miroku in. "Hi Miroku!"
Miroku looked up and saw Sango. "Funny we didn't see each other for years and now we bump into each other twice on the same day huh?"
"What, had enough of me already?" teased Miroku. Sango pursed her lips and looked up on the elevator numbers, watching it move down. She fiddled with her purse, and then her dress. Looked around but quickly looked down as she realized the entire elevator was mirrors and each of them bounced back in image of her and Miroku. She examined her fingernails and played with her ponytail.
The bellboy noticed the tension and awkwardness, but didn't say anything. He wasn't suppose to talk anyways.
"That's a nice ring," said Miroku flatly. He wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't been for the mirrors and the diamond glinting. It's almost as if it was teasing him.
"Thank you," replied Sango quietly.
"What's his name?" he asked, his tone obvious that he didn't care but laced with enough venom to show he already detested the man.
"Kuranosuke Takeda," replied Sango. Then after a moment, "He's a good man. His father was the headmaster at a prestigious school of Arts and Kuranosuke is a professor there."
Miroku said nothing, leaving her answer in the sullen silence. The elevator seemed to move for eternity, going down each floor slowly. There was nothing he could do, nothing to be done. Miroku didn't expect much when he saw her come back. But there was always one part of his heart that hoped, fantasized even, that they would rekindle what was lit 5 years ago.
"Be happy for me," pleaded Sango softly after a long moment of silence. She twisted the diamond around, cursing it for it's huge size and it's visibility.
"I don't know how I could be," said Miroku as calmly as he could. He felt slightly angry, betrayed even, although all of it seemed irrational. The elevator finally stopped and Miroku quickly exited.
& & & & & &
Miroku arranged the knives and forks according to the table setting he was taught. People eat from out to in, so that means the salad fork goes before the main course meal which would mean, no wait it's wrong. Miroku let out a groan and started all over again.
"What's bothering you Grumpy face?" said Shippou, folding the napkin into a boat.
"Nothing kiddo," said Miroku as cheerfully as he could. Shippou sniffed as his wonderful boat was smushed and reformed. Miroku plastered a smile and took the boat and folded it into a fan.
"You're lying!" Children are awfully perceptive.
"Miroku, hurry up on the table setting, we need you on the balcony arranging the wine glasses," called out Jakotsu, the head secretary and coordinator of events. Jakotsu was very odd, half the time you can not tell if he's serious or not. He was strangely religious although he never told which faith he belonged to. Jakotsu would often make flirty remarks to Miroku and then rebuke him later on for his flippant social life. Nonetheless he had a good heart, despite his psychotic façade.
Miroku saluted him and quickly tried to gather his mind together. Table settings were soon done as he kept his mind on the spoons and forks in front of him.
"So Miroku, who's this Sango that Inuyasha told me about?" asked Shippou, folding an airplane that looked more like a penguin instead.
Miroku looked at him funny. "Inuyasha told you?" Shippou nodded, dropped whatever he was doing and propped his head up waiting for an answer. Miroku quickly finished the table and went to stack the wine glasses. "Well uh," he stammered, "there's nothing to tell."
"That's not what Inuyasha said!"
"That's it kiddo, what did he tell you?" said Miroku in mock seriousness. "Nothing!" squealed Shippou, running away from the possible tickle attacks.
"That's right, because there is nothing to tell," repeated Miroku, his eyebrows raised. Shippou muttered 'spoil sport' underneath his breath before he bounced next to Miroku by the piano. The Terrace Room was gleaming with regal decorations, glimmering with royalty. The tables had rose petals sprinkled randomly and the chairs had beautiful sashes tied to its' back. Some bachelor party.
Miroku absentmindedly played a few notes. "Well," he began, surprising even himself, "Sango was a close friend of mine and she moved a few years ago. Now she's back and I'm…" he drifted off. What was he? Was he happy to see her? No. He couldn't bring himself to say he was happy. Happy is when you have the biggest dopiest smile on your face that couldn't be wiped off. Happy was when you can't wait to see her again and talk to her. Happy was when you call her and want to make plans.
She was engaged. That surprised him. That definitely didn't put the cherry on his day. So no, he wasn't happy to see her. He wished that of all places he could meet her again, it wasn't here. Of course meeting her on her honeymoon could've been worse, he thought dryly. Marrying a man, who seems promising enough with a future that holds assurance that she will never have to worry.
Was that what she really wanted? Nothing could change people like time could.
"I'm happy for her," he finally said. Shippou eyed Miroku but didn't keep asking. He'd figured that even grown-ups were allowed to act weird some times. What he didn't get was why he had to lie when his frowning face already showed that it was exactly the opposite of how he felt.
"C'mon kiddo, let's practice that song I've been teaching you," said Miroku grinning, as if the past 2 minutes never happened. He launched into a C-scale and waited for Shippou to follow along.
& & & & & &
"I don't get it," said Kikyou. After contemplating of whether to go out to eat or to stay home, they decided to save some money and stayed home to eat. Inuyasha made a nice meal for them both and they sat in front of the TV to eat.
"What's not to get?" said Inuyasha distractedly, watching TV. He quickly picked up a tissue and swiped the sauce off the glass coffee table before it left an invisible stain. He then proceeded to throw the tissue away in the kitchen's garbage can because it might stain the white plastic one outside.
"That's kind of creepy," pointed Kikyou. She blushed a little, realizing it might've sound rude. Inuyasha shrugged as he was well aware of his nitpicks. He slumped back down on the couch, his legs (not accidentally!) landed on top of Kikyou's.
"Ahem?"
Inuyasha gave her the most angelic look he could possibly muster. "I don't get it," she repeated, ignoring his legs.
"About Sango? Or Miroku?"
"Both of them." At first, they were talking about events over the day, (how annoying Miroku was…) when the subject strayed to Sango. Inuyasha saw Sango exiting the elevator, looking distraught. Originally he was going to say hi, but he and Kikyou were already ready to leave.
"Sango and Miroku weren't the best of friends. They met when I first brought him here for a job at this hotel. He was a new waiter, just finished school and he needed a job. He had a knack for catering and a hell lot of people skills so I recommended him."
Kikyou nodded, wiping her mouth on a napkin and crumpled it throwing it onto the table. Inuyasha quickly slipped it into the wastebasket.
"He first met Sango when they were stuck in an elevator. Miroku is slightly claustrophobic, not that he lets anyone know but you do notice that his showers don't last longer than 10 minutes right? Even tiny things like a bathtub and shower curtains make him feel contained. Anyways, he gets really antsy whenever he feels contained and he would start rambling and talking. Sango got so fed up with him that she slapped him."
Kikyou shot her eyebrows up. Both her and Inuyasha knew that if a girl slapped him, it was like pouring a bucket if ice cold water down his shirt. He hated it. Possibly the only thing that could piss him off very much. Inuyasha nodded agreeing.
"They were enemies. I can't even count how many times they try to sabotage each other. Perhaps her father was the wisest. He saw possible danger that his daughter could fall in love, and that obviously was forbidden."
"Why? Because he's a waiter?" exploded Kikyou, gripping the cushion. Inuyasha didn't say anything but held a passive look in his eyes.
"Her father told her that he was going to send her away. Maybe it was because of that, but the two of them fought less. Before she left she promised Miroku she would come back and bother him, just like old times."
"So why is he chasing after every girl when he's got a winner right here?" asked Kikyou confused.
"It's who he is," shrugged Inuyasha, bringing the plates to the sink to wash.