Story Note: There are going to be a lot of different couples in this story and side tracking to tell their side of this tale. For example San/Mir. While the main character is Inuyasha and the main couple is Kagome/Inuyasha, I just thought I'd let you know that. There will be scenes in which one or both of them might be with another briefly. But like I warned everyone in the first chapter, this is a romance but not the traditional, tender romantic type. It's more twisted. If that's not your thing then… well, onto the story.
{_.:.A Doll For All.:._}
{_.Chapter 02: Bad Habit._}
I still haven't seen her. Where the fuck is she? I'm at work; I have been for three nights straight tending to the bar just like I'm meant to and not a single glimpse of her? Not a whiff of her sensual scent? Nada?
Fuck. I get it, a hooker needs a night off every once and a while, too, but three? What, did she need to take the fam on a vaca or something? Ugh, I shiver at the thought of that vixen ever having a kid. She's not human, she not a youkai, she's something else—something above, something that couldn't ever do that…
I'm not an idiot, I get she's such a human but… you've never seen her. And neither have I in three fucking nights. What, did she get assigned somewhere else? I can't imagine shikon services simply provides to Imperial and nowhere else. I'm sure some of the girls get rented out for special gigs, like big conventions or something. Damn, how many conventions could there be in Tokyo?
Don't answer that.
All I'm asking is to see her again, fuck her to the mind boggling level would be great, too, but I'd be decent with just a sighting and sniff.
"Inuyasha," an annoyingly chipper Jakotsu sang to try and wiggle my attention away from the door I've been staring at for, well, for fucking ever.
"What?" I snarled and reluctantly turned my attention to him.
"You aren't going to get any tips if you don't do a damn thing, hun," he winked and nudged me before going to one of the fat bastards at the end that beckoned the weirdo. I'm not one to judge, it's not because I'm a good guy it's just because I don't give a damn enough to, but Jakotsu weird. He wears make-up, lipstick—red, bright red, all the time. It's not that that gets him the label of 'weird' from me—which, might I add, is a difficult task in and of itself. He's gay, nothing wrong with that, I don't care, but he's got an obvious thing for me.
Now, since that's directly affecting me I do care. That's generally the only reason I give a damn about anything. He flirts, constantly, and it's off putting. He grabs my ears, says the weirdest shit, he's got a serious obsession going on and it's freaky. But he's my fellow bartender so I got to put up with it, Miroku makes me.
Oh, and he's a prostitute. That I cannot say for certain but I'm pretty damn sure that he sells himself on the side for a little extra cash to all the business men and other big-shots that come to Imperial that aren't-gay-but-are, you know the type. The ones that frown upon it but are behind closed doors, them I don't get but whatever. They get Jakotsu, often. I've heard some conversations that make me think that I'm right. Miroku, the blind manger of this so called 'fine' bar I work at, doesn't know. I could tell him but I don't care enough to. I get the feeling that it's a no-no to have a gay prostitute around even though there are a ton of hetro ones about.
Hypocrisy isn't something I like to take part in.
"Are you trying to impress me by standing back there like you are actually a bartender?"
Fuck, I took a deep breath in, valuing the tingle that fluttered within me from her fine aroma, before I turned my attention smack dab in front of me.
Kikyou.
How the hell did I miss her coming in? Damn Jakotsu. Oh, Kami, she's sexy. A black halter-top mini-dress looked far too good on her as she leaned forward so I could get a good peak down her dress. I would like to mold those in my hands…
"Hello," she chimed, "earth to…?"
"Inuyasha," I snapped as I glared up at her, "how can you forget my name? It's pretty fucking self-explanatory. Demon, dog, got it?"
"Ah," she sang, "that's true, isn't it?"
At least she's gone out of her way to talk to me, that's good, isn't it? Jesus, if she keeps standing like that I won't be able to focus. She'll keep saying witty shit and I won't have any snappy comebacks, but damn…
"Biting keeps your words at bay," she whispered with a wink before she stood up straight, "you look like you'll draw blood like that, Inuyasha."
Reluctantly, I freed my lips for my teeth. I want to hear her shout my name.
"What are you doing behind the bar?"
"I'm a bartender," I grunted.
"Really?" She awed, "here I thought you were just the help that brings about the drinks."
"That was temporary; I was covering for a friend."
"You, friends?" she laughed before she sat down at the stool in front of me—that meant she wanted to stay, yeah? "So, how'd a night in jail suite you?"
"Keh," I scoffed, "at least I didn't use blackmail to get me out of there."
"Oh, but you would of if you could have, huh?"
Yep, but I wouldn't give her that, "nope."
"Liar," she teased.
"Whores work together, eh? That whole blackmail system must work well 'cause of it."
She just smirked at that as she leaned forward so that I could feel her breath on my cheek, "oh, Inuyasha," I faltered there, she got the upper hand, I could feel my breath hitch. "Wouldn't you like to know what this whore could do to you with just her tongue?"
Hell yes, I would very much like that but she just winked and walked away instead.
Fuck, she can't leave with the last word, so I scoffed the only think I could think, "whore."
"This whore gets paid big bucks to have sex, what's wrong with that?" She inquired as she spun around, "I like money, I love," oh, the way that word rolled off her tongue, "sex."
I liked that word even more; I couldn't help but get hard from the implication as she strutted off.
I have to have her or I might self-destruct… I probably will either way but I'd rather have her first.
{.x.}
"Good evening, Taisho-sama," a red-eyed, fan bearing mistress greeted with a sensual smirk as she waved her favorite object about once before shutting it to lean against the wall he stood by, his piercing, solid, stoic sunlit stare continued onward.
"Kagura," he simply stated, as if it was nothing of importance.
That truly got her feathers all in a tiff so she snarled, "I knew you'd be back."
He stole a smirk to glance at her, "you have new blood? I'll have her tonight."
Her eyes widened briefly before she stood up straight and waltzed in front of her to force him to look at her, "is that so?"
"It is," he replied, for a moment their eyes locked and fire arose—but gold burned the ruby away. With a huff she swerved about and stomped off in her perfect purple Prada pumps.
It took longer than his patients would have preferred for a girl to come up to him with a smile and inquire as to what he would like to do that night, he didn't bother to reply as he escorted her out of the boastful bar and down the stairs a few flights before they entered a room. It was clear that the big browned girl was amazed that he had a room actually within the Imperial instead of taking her out and down the street to one of the many love hotels that lined the streets of Tokyo.
"So," she cooed as her fingers floated above the fine oak furniture, "what is your pleasure?"
"How old are you?"
For a moment that froze her before she turned around to lean against the dresser with a smile, "why? I am old enough, I promise."
"You look sixteen at most," he rejoined.
"I'm twenty, I just look young," she swore as she slowly walked up to him, her hands on the rim of his jacket as she began to slide it off, "don't worry, honey, I'm not vice. I'm not trying to sting you. Are you a cop?" She playfully teased.
Why, in fact, he was, and he proved that by flipping out his badge.
Right away her eyes widened as she stumbled away, "I haven't done anything wrong, this is entrapment! I want a lawyer, pronto."
He grinned at her quick thinking, "you needn't worry. I'm not vice." To prove how little he cared he let his badge drop to his jacket as he began to unbutton his shirt, "I have too many of my own to throw people in jail for such matters."
It took his shirt fully coming off to expose his rock hard abs for her to let her weariness drop, "so… you are a naughty-cop? One that's on the take to look the other way in regards to shikon services?"
"You ask too many questions," he countered as he took her by the wrist before twirled her to push her up against the dresser, "I will not be gentle."
"I'm not a porcelain doll, do with me as you please…?" she coaxed out as his hands roamed down her orange cowlneck back dress to hike it up.
"Names are not important," he replied before he pried off her panties and parted his pants to thrust into her. It was purely self-indulgent that he partook in what some may say was self-destructive but, you see, it's more productive than if he were to be healthy.
{.x.}
"Please!" A flustered woman cried as she folded her arms upon her chest.
"Please!" Another mocked bitterly as she stomped about the kitchen, carelessly opening up the fridge to pull out a can of soda and slam the door as she popped it open.
Her hazels bulged out as she groaned, "you are an absolutely bothersome individual!"
Inaudibly, she muttered something similar before taking a swig of her drink, "what's wrong with you, huh? Who says stuff like that? Get your panties all out of a twist, you goodie-goodie."
"Kaede!" She shouted as she slammed her hands upon the table, "what is wrong with you? Huh? It's eleven! You should be at school! And what are you doing dressed like that? You look like you are asking for trouble!"
"You mean someone to fuck me?" She retorted with a smirk as she lifted her arms up to look over herself, she wore a black and red checkered skirt that was far shorter than school regulations would permit, her white shirt unbuttoned to give anyone a small glimpse of a black lacy bra and her black uniform jacket parted all the way.
"Damn it, Kaede!" Kagome finally cursed to her great amusement.
"Oh, you can curse!" Kaede cynically giggled, "jeez, Ka-go-me, settle down. I'll go to school."
"How many classes did you miss? Why do you keep doing this? You are killing me!"
"Whatever," she muttered with an overly dramatic roll of her eyes before she pulled her stockings on higher to slide on her shoes.
"Kaede! We are not done talking!"
"You are not mom," she rejoined as she spun around to glare at her while she lugged her black backpack on, "stop pretending you are. Kami, I can't wait until I'm out of this place."
What more could she say? She just let her shoulders sag as she watched her obnoxious sister walk away to finally go to school. How was she meant to deal with all of that? With a shake of her head she grabbed her purse and started off to the door and headed to work.
Twenty-six and playing the role of a surrogate mother to demi-goth rebellious seventeen year old sister, now, who doesn't wish for that? She sighed at the thought as she walked into the library all the way to the back room to put her bag away.
"Higurashi-san," a friendly voice chimed.
With a smile she turned her attention to her boss, "Totosai-san, good afternoon."
"I need you to put away the books in the return bin, if you wouldn't mind."
"Not at all," she smiled as she headed out to do just that. Now, her job was something she loved. Books had always been her solace and as strange as it might seem, she had always wanted to be surrounded by them so what better way was there to do that than to be a librarian? She could read all she want and give others the same opportunity, to open their world up to the mystical, mysterious, and marvelous ways. Through them she could experience things she would never in real life… like love.
Romance novels, her guilty pleasure, she even blushed at the thought.
"What's got your cheeks all red like that?"
With a gasp she jumped before she turned about to see a familiar smiling female, "Sango-chan, you scared me."
"Sorry, sorry," she giggled, "we were just walking by so we just thought—"
"I wanna see auntie!" A little boy gleamed as he raised his only free hand up in the air; the other was locked in his mother's.
"That's so sweet of you Koichi-kun," Kagome replied as she knelt down, "I was just thinking about you."
"Yeah?" He gleamed, curling his lips into a high smile at the thought.
"Yeah, there are some books that I thought you'd like your mama to read to you," she nodded as she opened her arms up so he could hug her.
"Thank you, Kagome-chan," Sango whispered while she handed her a set of picture books and children's stories, "Koichi really loves these things."
"It's the least I can do for my favorite nephew," she assured.
"You are really great, I don't know what I'd do without you," Sango said with a sigh while they took a step away from Koichi as he sat in the children's area flipping through books.
"What else are cousins for?" She inquired as she patted her on the back, even though they weren't sisters both often thought of each other as exactly that. Hence why Sango's son called her auntie instead of whatever the proper term would be for his mother's cousin and why Kagome found herself calling him nephew. Just like the little boy was obviously the light of Sango's life, he was a joy in her own. Unlike her actual, annoying, sister Kaede, Sango would never yell and throw a fit at her and Koichi was an angel. The perfect three year old in her eyes. "So everything is going better now?"
"Mostly, yeah," she nodded, "Kohaku is better… everything is better. How about you?"
"Kaede is going to be the death of me," she grumbled, "she's being impossible. Souta is a godsend; he's trying really hard to be the best kid he can. He's doing great; I just wish Kaede could be more like him."
"Thank Kami that Koichi isn't a teen yet, I don't know what I'll do when that happens."
"You can handle it," she smiled as she nudged her, "you are a great mom. Koichi is lucky to have you."
"That's sweet, thank you," Sango mustered a smile before turning her mahoganies back to her son. Sometimes, she didn't think he was so lucky. The poor kid, he wasn't old enough to understand what a horrible situation he was born into… she lamented at the thought of what it would be like when he finally reached an age where he could comprehend the situation.
{.x.}
"Oi," was a terrible word—if she could even call it that. To hear that annoying voice grunt it while she was upon a ladder placing a book on the tallest shelf was even worse, particularly since it scared her into almost falling off. If not for her waving hands to stable herself and quick grasp of the railing she would have toppled down like the books that were once in arms.
"You," she hissed as she looked down to a smirking inu-hanyou, "I specifically recall telling you to come in during the morning when I would not be here."
"I don't wake up before noon on any given day, so I don't care," he countered as she climbed down to pick up the books that had fallen from her grasp in her fumbled attempt to stay stable, "I came to re-check out the books."
"There are other people here that can help you," she retorted as she brushed off the dust from her A-line skirt to glare at him, "so go bother someone else, the very last thing I need today is someone like you around."
"Ah," he grunted with a nod, "you got a thing against hanyous, huh?"
Disgust spewed out across her face, "I can't believe you'd think I'm so shallow. It's purely because you're an asshole that I can't stand you."
"Oh," he grinned with a shrug, "if that's the case then I accept your hostility."
She sighed as she began to walk off to the help-desk, "whip that cocky smile off your face, would you?"
"You'll be rid of me as soon as you just scan these things," he declared as he plopped the books that he hadn't even bothered to try and read yet on the desk. "The computer can even have another glitch and you won't have to see me for like… say, a month?"
"I wish," she muttered as she took his library card so she could start to scan them, "what is your interest in legal mumbo-jumbo?"
"It's a long story."
"I was just about to go on lunch, why don't you tell me about it?" Why did she let that slip? She had no idea, but she instantly regretted it. Though there was something all over appalling about his behavior there was also something… oddly attractive about him, too. Then again, she had been told time and time again that she was drawn to things that would only make her life more difficult.
And he certainly would.
"Are you asking me on a date, miss librarian?" He grinned.
"I assure you I'm not," she rejoined as she looked up to meet his pretty golden gaze.
"I've been asked out before," purely by other hanyous, of course. Such social misfits had to stick together, they hadn't really a choice. The chances of a pure-breed anything wanting to get with a hanyou were slim to none. "And I think that sounds an awful lot like this."
"Never mind," she sighed as she pushed the stack of books back to him, "there was a computer glitch, don't come back for two months."
"Whoa, we go from asking me to lunch to not wanting to see me for two months, a bit bipolar, huh?" he taunted only to receive quite the cold stare, really, he wouldn't think someone so cute could pull off something so cruel. It was surprising, and he kinda liked it. "I'll take you up on that lunch offer."
To that, she just narrowed her eyes and remained silent for a while then finally asked, "What makes you think it's still valid?"
He had no idea, really, none at all. She had to be just as self-destructive as him to want that. And, apparently, she was.
{.x.}
"Wow," she awed as she took another sip of her drink. It was too early for anything alcoholic, not that she drank, unlike me. I had already had two beers during our not even forty-five minute meal. "Why would you do something so stupid?"
"That bastard started," I retorted as I leaned back in the booth some more, "how was I supposed to know who he is? Or that he'd file charges? What a pussy."
"Language," she chimed once more as she took another fry to chomp on from my plate. She seems like a real boring, goodie-goodie, type—the exact type of person you'd expect from a librarian, that's what she is, from wardrobe to attitude. All she's missing is the eyewear. Some sexy black-rimmed glasses and a ruler… I like the idea.
Of course, to complete the fantasy she'd have to be wearing some sexy lingerie under that white button up shirt and pop off a couple of those buttons to reveal the lace. But, really, I figure she's wearing a plain nude bra and some granny-panties, probably.
"If I get convicted," I sighed, "that'd be the third strike and I'd be out. I'd go to jail for sure."
She frowned at that, her poor little bleeding heart must have been all in a tiff over my sad, sad story. I could see it easily, she's definitely the type to volunteer on the weekends at a soup kitchen and donate a fine portion of her income to a bunch of different charities. I'm sure she'd like to save the world; I get her appeal in hanging out with me now. I'd be a pretty pet project of hers to fix. But, hey, if she got a pair of glasses and ruler to smack me around with in the non-conventional way I'd be okay with that.
Maybe there's a naughty, naughty little sex minx under that boring argyle sweater of hers…
"That's too bad, it sounds like you both deserve time in jail," she said instead to my dismay.
"Yeah, that's real comforting."
She just laughed before taking another drink of her strawberry shake, then she went real quiet for a while… her face was blank as she stared off to nowhere. I was about to say something before she snapped out of it, "my uncle is a lawyer, a really good one, so if you want… I could give you his number and call to tell him that I referred you."
"It's probably out my pay range," I countered, yep, there we go, the bleeding heart I was expecting is making its first appearance.
"He would take it pro bono for my sake."
"No," I kept up.
"Are you afraid of some charity? There's nothing wrong with it," she insisted.
"No," I just hate being indebt to people even a cute little librarian, that's one of the first things I learned in my youth was a big fat no-no. Regardless of how harmless it may seem at first it will lead to nothing but trouble in the future, trust me.
She sighed and shook her head before she pulled out a pen from her purse and wrote down two sets of numbers on a napkin, "the top one is mine and the bottom one is my uncle's. I'm going to tell him to expect your call." She pushed it towards me as she slid out of the booth to start off.
I couldn't help but smirk as I picked it up, "why give me your number?"
"You'll just have to figure that one out for yourself," she replied before she left.
Maybe even with an extra sway in her step, just for me?
{.x.}
"So," Miroku coaxed as he lowered his drink with a raised brow, "let me get this straight. A cute librarian," he just shivered all over at the idea of checking that profession off of his 'who to have sex with' list, "took you to lunch and gave you a number to an actually good attorney that would take your case pro bono and you… aren't going to call?"
"Yep," Inuyasha nodded as he leaned over on the bar, ignoring the thirsty clientele. To him, it seemed like a brilliant idea. To Miroku, it was apparently really stupid. He didn't hide that fact well.
"She sounds like a godsend if you ask me."
"No one is asking you," he grunted, he was just telling his friend about his day. Not asking for his advice, though, Miroku did so love to give that out whenever he could. "She just seems like one of those bleeding heart types that wants to save the world."
"You are an idiot if you don't take her up on this offer, Kouga is the mayor's son, you will get convicted if you don't have a good lawyer, you will go to jail."
"Whatever," he muttered as he caught a glimpse of his little devil that winked at him from across the filled room. What boiled his blood was that she was walking off with someone. He didn't care who it was, all that mattered was it wasn't him.
"You have so many issues as it is," Miroku sighed as his violets followed his gaze, "the last thing you need is to obsess over a hooker, too."
"I don't know what you are talking about," Inuyasha insisted as he picked up a glass and began to clean it.
"Sure you don't, I advise you to try and not let that one wrap you any further around her pinkie than she already has, granted she's very sexy but not worth the trouble. And Kami knows you don't need any more trouble, Inuyasha."
Sometimes, Miroku found himself wondering why he did it. Why did he constantly put his neck on the line for the inu-hanyou that almost never listened to him? Why had they even become friends in the first place? It was by chance, really. One of those times when he was in his late teens when his parents forced him to do charity work to counteract all the negative publicity that he tabloids had on him and his naughty nights out.
A group home, his parents thought sending him there to do volunteer with the troubled youths within it would be good for him. It'd show him what his life could have been like if he was born into a different family, one less fortunate than their own. It did take him by surprise at first. He had volunteered at homeless shelters and soup kitchens throughout his early years but there was just something different about the group home…
It wasn't the kids there fault at all. He might be an awful person, but he didn't often feel sorry for the homeless he helped. More often than naught, their own vices got them there. But at the group home… all the children were orphaned and that wasn't their fault in the least. They couldn't help it that their parents didn't want them, died, or were to incompetent that the government took them away for their own good.
It was in his first week of the six-week project of trying to put fear in him that he met Inuyasha. The seventeen year old that hadn't had a family since he was seven. The one that got picked on for being something he couldn't help, yet didn't seem to give a shit all the same. It would be a lie to say that Miroku didn't hold the same prejudice, that he didn't look down on hanyous back then but… there was something about Inuyasha that he instantly respected.
Even though Miroku tried, he still cared what people thought about him. He pretended he didn't, pretended he was fine with what the tabloids said about him, but really it all bothered him. But Inuyasha… all the shit people did and said to him didn't matter in the least. In one year he'd be out of that hell hole and on his own. He was just counting down the days.
So Miroku made an effort to be friends with him, in hopes of learning how to not give a shit about what others thought about him. And it was an effort, since Inuyasha was ever so reluctant to allow someone to become his friends. Miroku supposed that was from all the times that people had let him down throughout his life… but by the end of the six weeks, Miroku apparently proved himself.
They had been friends ever since, that was more than ten years ago when he stopped to think about it. Both of the men were nearing their thirties… oh, the thought of how old he was getting instantly made Miroku sick. He barely even heard Inuyasha's reply.
"Whatever," he grunted.
"As your employer," Miroku started to snap himself out of the depression the realization that he was twenty-eight, almost twenty-nine, a years from being thirty, gave him. "I demand you call that lawyer and set up an appointment to meet, I'd hate to have to actually hire a new bartender."
"Yeah, it'd be a horror if you actually had to work," he gripped.
"Yes, let's ignore the fact that I'm trying to help you and attack my faults, nice one, Inuyasha," Miroku replied as he tapped the counter before standing, "I'm going to my office, see ya' later."
{.x.}
The ugly marks are worth the momentary gain, when he jabbed a sharpened object in a choirs of angels seem to sing hymns of hate in memorandum, but for her to accept the pain may seem self-destructive but she has always found it more productive than if she were to be happy. It was his insanity, his burden to carry, but he could let it out with her and her alone. Whenever they were alone, in one of the nicer love hotel's that lined the streets, her yelps and screams of pain and pleasure gave him a thrill that could tame the beast for a while longer.
Each time it was over he could feel himself—he true self, he so often hoped—resurface as they laid together in the tangled sheets. His grayed orbs would glimpse over the that had splatters of blood scalpel before he turned it to the beautiful woman beside him, why she put up with his games—his needs were beyond him. There were a few cuts on her, as there always were…
He was a sick, sick man…
"Kikyou," he whispered as he let the hateful object fall away from him so he could prop himself up on his arm and look over her. After each time he'd tend to the wounds that were only there because of him.
"Suikotsu-sensei," she replied as she sat up to let him apply his special ointment.
"Why do you do this?" he inquired with a fragile frown, "you should say no to me."
"You mean well," she assured, "we are all crazy, you are just in a different way so why should I care?"
"Because my madness hurts you each time," he stated simply as his fingers glided down her back, her soft skin he yearned so often to touch yet mar. "I'm a doctor, I try to help people but each day I see blood and… that need just keeps building up."
"And that's what I'm here for," she smiled as she turned around to take his hand, "don't worry about it, it's my job. I know what I am getting into each time you come to see me."
"I wonder about your life, about what makes you do these things, why you chose this profession," he began as his eyes moved to the radio they used to cover up their other noises while it shifted to a new song. "But I know better than to ask."
"You are very intelligent, Suikotsu-sensei," Kikyou declared as she reached to shut off the music, "sappy songs about bland accounts of two lovers meeting make me want to give mankind a beating."
"Well, I suppose in two weeks the same time?"
"As always," she smiled as she leaned over to give him a kiss upon the cheek, "is it odd to say you are my favorite client?"
"I am sure you say that to all the high payers," he kidded, "because if that is true… you may have more problems than I do."
"Thank you for your pity, you are too kind," she laughed as she slid off the bed to pull on her lace panties and slip on her dress, "perhaps I'm a little self-destructive, but who isn't these days?"
To that, he merely shrugged, "goodbye, Kikyou."
"Until next time," she winked before picking up her black clutch bag and heading out to meet the cruel light that dawn always brings.
A/N: This chapter was influenced by Bad Habit by the Dresden Dolls. Pretty much every chapter is influenced by one of their songs or Amanda Palmer's solo songs. So, if you know the band, you probably can take a guess at how the story is going to be. That, or if you just read the warning in the previous chapter.