I really am getting annoyed… so far in the last few days I've had my computer reformatted twice (don't ask), both times while I had written half this chapter. And no, I didn't have a back up copy made because the reformatting was totally sprung on me while I was at school. XP Some dude who my mom knows came around to 'improve' our computer, and ended up reformatting the damn thing. ¬.¬ To top it all off, the dude (I will not mention names here, even though it's quite hard to resist XD) has installed Microsoft Works Word Processor (7.0) which really is amazing and has this 'new' feel (XD the high will wear off in a couple of days) but to my extreme annoyance, doesn't allow you to upload documents with this. So I'm constantly having to copy and paste it into WordPad --- which is quite depressing, compared to the shiny new-ness of this Processor.
Everyone's been very good, not asking me why I haven't updated for so long, and I'm grateful for that. :3 Domo arigato!
I whine a lot, don't I? XD Eck, I don't know. I'm just telling everyone why I haven't updated in so long, so I don't come across as a… um… non-updater for the hell of it.
Also some of my friends always hear me going on about writing fan fiction and they're encouraging me to write just plain old original fiction. :P So I've been kind of caught up in that, as well. If anyone wants to read my plain old original fiction stories, it's on and my penname is the same.
Very last note, I promise. X3 I just saw Final Fantasy 7, Advent Children, and wow. It truly was amazing. Although my favourite FF game is possibly 9, I couldn't miss this movie, because… well… it was just too darn good! It was beautifully presented, beautifully laid out, and nothing was too cheesy that had me cringing. The graphics were glorious. Glorious, I tell you. Simply amazing. I loved the fighting --- Tifa in particular, I love her fighting style. I loved the game, and the movie has only reaffirmed why I love FF7. I loved the flashbacks, I love everything. Goddammit, everything! The ending, I think, is my favourite. (Spoiler: Read at own risk) You know, when Cloud just looks out, and he sees Aeris standing up and walking elegantly out --- and you FINALLY catch a glimpse of her face --- it really made it worth it, in that moment. She wasn't outstanding, in any way, but it was beautiful just to see her. I'm a notorious Tifa fan myself, but I don't hate Aeris --- I can undertstand why people like her. She just has this… aura around her that I really felt in the movie --- not so much in the game, but it was still there faintly.
…Right, right, I'll stop. X3
Responses to a few reviews:
NefCanuck: :3 Glad you're hooked into the suspense and the fluff. Kagome's thoughts on Inuyasha will be a little clashing, but I'm going to keep that in the dark for a little longer. :3
Uwaki Aisu: I totally get that. You go to all the trouble to think up something crazy and witty… and suddenly your PC decides it's time for a little nap, and it freezes or shuts down. Not cool. Not cool at all. :P
Uh… X.x I think I'll keep my brother. He's kind of cool sometimes… I don't know, maybe I'm one of those people who complain for the hell of it? O.o Scary thought.
Spirituality: Bingo! So I actually hit the spot with this story, huh:3 It's great to know I actually did it, and even more great when people let me know. Sankyuu!
And about the rest of the story: It's going to get more intense after a couple of chapters, to build up. Then you find out everything! X3 …But not in one go. :P
Inuyasha-is-pretty: I've read Rozefire's Dead Famous, and I have to say, she is brilliant. The basic plotline may seem the same (normal girl goes to live with superstar, they hate each other, etc.) but it's a very clichéd plotline. I'm very into clichéd plotlines sometimes… but then I get all evil and start twisting them my own way. XD
Disclaimer: Inuyasha is created and owned by Rumiko Takahashi, who hopefully will never stop drawing and writing manga. Particularly Inuyasha manga.
And the long awaited chapter of…:
Make Me
The train rumbled to a stop at the station, and there was a few seconds of silence. Everything was frozen, quiet, and then suddenly as if someone had hit the 'play' button, movement and sound just erupted. People poured off the train in streams, through the gaping doors, and pushing against them like the tide of the sea, were passengers, trying to board so they could get to their desired destination. Eventually, the streams slowed to small trickles, until at last, there was quiet again.
A young girl wandered through the carriages, searching for an empty place to sit. She carried a small red, battered briefcase, and although worn, looked loved and cared for. Slender fingers curled around black leather handle, before loosening to drop the briefcase on the floor as she found a seat. Long, raven strands fell over her shoulder as the sweet looking, fresh faced girl sighed a little in pleasure. With cheeks pinkened slightly from the cold, she smoothed down her denim skirt and shifted her feet in the brown leather boots, looking very obviously brand new. Turning her head, she gazed out of the window, looking elatedly on at the unfamiliar surroundings, taking in the strange yet beautiful view ---
And missed another that she would've dearly cherished.
A tall, broad shouldered young man strode down the middle of the carriage, dressed completely in dark tones --- the dark denim jeans were slightly loose, and a black windbreaker flapped about him as he moved. The most startling contrast, however, was raked back uncaringly with a rough hand: the silver hair. It fell down the boy's back, over his shoulders, and into his eyes --- a curious shade of amber; gold, almost.
Those golden eyes flickered disinterestedly over the passengers, moving on as fast as they fell on the strangers --- a woman with a small daughter, a elderly couple, and a business man, sipping on what smelt like coffee, the heat of it steaming up his glasses. Those streetwise eyes took in everything --- before suddenly pausing on a turned dark head. His body never stopped moving, but his eyes still rested on her, dispassionate, yet tinged slightly with curiosity. He registered the slim frame, the feminine briefcase, the long ebony hair draped softly on her shoulders, tumbling down and gradually tapering into wisps…
And just as suddenly: he lost interest.
Choosing to go through to the next carriage for a suitable place to sit.
Missing the dark headed girl turn her gaze forwards again, a wistful smile on her lips.
She was her own master, her own accomplice. She felt a shiver of thrill go up her back. God, she was so good at this! He'd love her for sure.
"You're wearing really dark lipstick." A childish voice piped up from behind her, and she spun around.
A little girl, with big dark eyes, and two braids. Adorable. She wondered idly what the little girl's father looked like. She hadn't gotten her cute looks from her mother for sure, no siree.
"It's really red. Mama has red lipstick, but it doesn't look as dark as yours."
She crouched down, low enough to be eye level with the little girl. "What's your name, then?"
"Sasha." A quick, nervous smile. "Where's Mama? Have you finished with her?"
Her mind flitted to the dead woman in the other room. "Yes. She's finished."
"Then can I go home? With Mama?"
The dark lips pulled into a sly, knowing smile. "Not quite yet, Sasha." She purred, stretching the name; a voice like fur soaked in honey. "Onee-chan wants to ask you a question… Do you know what love is?"
"Love?" Big, brown eyes stared into hers. "Love is the best thing in the world."
Dark, bobbed hair gleamed as she nodded her head, encouraging her to go on.
"I'm not really sure, because I haven't felt it yet, but Mama says it makes you feel all warm inside, and all tingly. And that love is …" She wrinkled her nose up, trying to pronounce the word. "…P-pure and righteous."
The soft shine of a dagger glimmered. "Let me tell you, a little more about love, Sasha. The blind fantasies your mother has been leading you on with are far too immature for a lovely little girl like you." She ran a finger along the smooth, hard surface, relishing the feel. "Love is not always pure."
"…It isn't?" The little voice trembled.
"No, darling. Love… can be hard. It can be angry, harsh, biting. Love is a double-edged sword… It can hurt too. Love can drive you to do the craziest things… how far some would go, just to win the affection of the one they love."
The kindly smile on those scarlet lips disagreed with her words. "Your mother was a fool." Without warning, the dagger was pressed against that soft, young neck. Those dark, adorable eyes instantly widened. A choked sob. The skin paling.
The dagger hissed as she pulled it slightly, lightly cutting open the tender skin. Immediately, crimson started to colour the gash, and Sasha let out her first cry.
It never failed to send that pleasurable shudder up her spine.
"L-let me go! I want --- I want to go! I want to go back to my Mama! I want to be with her!"
Hushing the little girl, she waited until she stilled, before pressing a tender kiss on her forehead, leaving a perfect imprint of that scarlet mouth. "You'll be with her. She's waiting for you."
The dagger flashed.
A long, elegant eyebrow twitched.
Her hands, clasped together, tightened until her knuckles turned white, and her nails gouged into her skin, leaving deep --- oh. That was where the pain was coming from.
Was she getting upset… over a man?
Ridiculous. Ludicrous. Utterly ---
Sango stiffened immediately when the man placed a easy hand on the young girl's thigh.
…
So maybe she was a tad annoyed. The tiniest bit hurt.
…And a heck of a lot ignored.
And damn it, she had a right to be! What the hell was he doing? The girl was barely sixteen; she didn't need to be seduced and introduced into the world of men who's only religion was the 'love 'em and leave 'em' kind!
Men like that were best left alone. If not, the only thing they'd give you would be a ugly view of the world and a bitter aftertaste in your mouth and your heart.
Was Miroku that kind of person?
…
"H-houshi-sama, may I have a quick word?"
"Of course." A last smile at the pretty girl, and he rose, following Sango into the corridor outside.
"Is there anything you wanted to say in particular?"
A clenched fist trembled. "…Maybe… it'd be better if you didn't come to the wedding with me."
He didn't seem unperturbed at all.
The bastard.
"And… why, Sango, would you say that?"
She forced her gaze up to his. "I think… that you wouldn't need to come with me at the wedding. I'll only hinder you, when other girls would get the wrong impression about… us."
"Us?" A dark eyebrow quirked, and Sango felt herself flushing.
Two hands, sudden as lightning, planted themselves to each side of her head, his feet took a step forward, and Miroku slowly leaned in.
The air thickened.
"Sango… I mean to ask. What exactly does… us… entail?"
He was close. Too close. She could see the complexity of his eyes, how the deep violet was ringed with black, how there was the tiniest tinge of lilac just before it reached the pupil. How thick and dark his lashes were.
"Us?"
She could only watch as those soft, supple lips curved upwards. "Yes. Us."
"We're… friends."
She shivered as he bent his head, and kissed the corner of her lips. She tasted mint for a brief, warm second.
"Think again."
It was aggravating, to be made to think while his lips hovered just above hers. She wanted to sink into the moment, and soak into the warmth he offered.
"We're… colleagues?"
Another kiss.
"No."
He was tempting her, teasing her with a little preview of what could be. Want was forcing her inhibitions away, forcing her earlier reluctance and doubts to fade.
But fear was still there.
"I… don't know." Curiosity, coupled with vulnerability clouded her eyes. "You tell me… what is 'us?'"
Instantly, heated lips met her own; she felt a hand graze her cheek as it reached behind her to cradle her head, pull her more firmly against him. Fervent, he kissed her roughly, nipping and pulling at her lower lip until she yielded to him, still unresponsive in her shock.
He slowed, and took his time in tasting her sweet cavern, enjoying the feel of his tongue able to caress hers, enjoying the fact he just could. The fact he was able to.
It was so rare he could shock her; Sango, the epitome of graciousness and professionalism gave across the impression that nothing could faze her. She could take it in her stride, deal with it coolly and calmly, and then continue on her path, determined as ever. Independent. Strong.
And now he had her here, powerless. Vulnerable. So deliciously vulnerable.
It might have taken pinning her against a wall and severe ravaging to make her self contained disposition crumble, but, oh, how it crumbled. Leaving a soft, utterly feminine woman, helpless against his ministrations.
And he would make sure she left this side of her for him.
Only, for him.
Miroku ran the tip of his tongue against her lower lip, savouring the shiver that wracked her. He pinpointed the exact moment she softened, then started to respond; her arms lifted to wind around his neck and ---
He pulled away.
Sango's arms fell down, beside her, and she stared up at him, body slumping against the wall for support. He had to suppress a grin at the sight.
Her head tilted up, against her wishes, due to the hand that brought her chin up so her gaze was directed to his. The sultriest stare made her catch her breath; the violet of his eyes had never been so dark.
"Miroku-sama? Are you finished --- oh!"
Sango felt a hot flush, seeing the previous young girl avert her eyes. She did the same, only to have her gaze fall on Miroku's face instead.
He took a long time in answering, and his eyes never left hers. "…Yeah. I'll be right there."
Agonisingly slow, he slowly backed away, turning around to follow the young girl back into the room --- but not before shooting her one last, searing look over his shoulder.
"Nice place."
Her lips pulled back, revealing a fang that glinted in a feral smile. Undulating hips swayed as she loped, feminine, in spite of her tomboyish appearance. The grey skirt fluttered against her thighs as she moved, and a thin overtop tied carelessly around her slim waist flapped.
"S-stop!"
Her gaze moved to a meek boy, probably in his twenties, she deduced. Scrutinizing him quickly, she switched off immediately, bored. "Why?"
"Y-you don't have permission! Fans are strictly not allowed!"
Uninterested tones told him otherwise. "Well, I made it this far, didn't I?" She shifted her feet, not liking being delayed her objective. "And rest assured, I'm no rabid fan girl."
He eyed her suspiciously, a hint of fear still around him. "Then why are you here?"
She flicked back a strand of auburn hair and laughed. "What else? Who owns this goddamn house?"
"S-so you are here to see Inuyasha-sama!"
She raised an eyebrow, before dissolving into slight amusement. "Oh, relax, I'm not that kind of girl. Yeah, I'm here to see him. And I don't think you, my dear, are going to stop me."
She started walking again, ignoring his protests. "O-oi! Who do you think you are?"
Turning, interest captured by his question, she grinned. Green eyes glittered with undisguised amusement. "Who I think I am? Listen up, I'll tell you once and you better make sure you goddamn well remember: I'm ---"
"---Rosie. My name is Rosie Lolitan."
The woman smiled. "Yes, I heard from Professor Ren about you. He said you were very talented. May I take a look?"
Rosie opened her worn briefcase. Beside a professional looking camera, a well kept, bulky photo album had been hidden safely inside. She lifted the photo alum out with careful hands, and offered it to the woman. "Yes, Professor ---?"
"Professor Mai." She took it from her and flipped through, admiring the shots. "Ren was right! These are simply outstanding… Ah, Paris! Am I right?"
The dark headed girl nodded, smiling. " Yes. Paris, 1991. It's very beautiful in the springtime."
Closing the book, Professor Mai handed the album back to Rosie. "Well, I can't say for sure until I get a official report, but I think we have a space for you here."
Brown eyes glittered as she grinned. "Thank you! And now… I just want to ask: Can you direct me to where Professor Calton is?"
"Of course. Go to the second floor, and take the right."
"Thank you!" Snapping her briefcase shut, Rosie hummed to herself as she walked out of the door, and into a hallway. "Second… floor…? Ehehehe… um… where's the stairs? Or the lift?"
Glancing around, she snagged the sleeve of a passer-by. "Excuse me, could you tell me --- oh!" she breathed.
Golden eyes stared down at her.
Kudos to anyone who works out what the scenes in italic are… Although its not very hard, I haven't brought it up very much.
Extra long chapter to make it up (T.T) and I hope everyone enjoys this!
Review, onegai:3