Disclaimer: The Inuyasha franchise is the property of Rumiko Takahashi, not me.
A/N: I love everyone who's given this story attention. For every review left, there's about 30-ish people who look…! It makes me happy~
Last time's prompt: twelve.
Sinner Angel
"In other news, a man by the name of Inuyasha was…" the television boomed as Kagome walked through the door.
"Mom, Gramps, Souta, I'm home!" Ever the multi-tasker, Kagome kicked off her shoes while announcing her arrival. She dropped her schoolbag on one end of the couch as she went over to give her mother a hello kiss-on-the-cheek. Mrs. Higurashi was sitting in an overstuffed armchair, riveted to the news reporter's story.
Giving her daughter a quick kiss in return, she hurriedly gestured for Kagome to pipe down and pay attention to the news.
"Um, no thank you," Kagome whispered quietly, grabbing her bag on her way out to her bedroom.
"Mhm," her mother murmured back, not really paying attention to what her daughter was saying.
Kagome giggled softly to herself. Normally, her mother abhorred the television, but today she was glued to it like how Souta and her Gramps usually were. Dumping her bag next to her desk, Kagome pushed the door shut before flopping down onto her bed. Several stuffed animals were launched into flight by the impact, and she sighed into the familiar down of her pink comforter. It wasn't long before she found herself shutting her eyes and drifting away from everything.
-!-
Inuyasha shook his head groggily, feeling mildly disoriented. It was as if he'd woken up after oversleeping. Everything was foggy and ghostly – even his own body seemed to be insubstantial. He was hanging in the air, swinging, a very heavy weight dragging on his neck and his feet dangling a mere foot above the ground.
Suddenly, the realization of where he was and what was happening slammed back into his consciousness. It was strange, since he had been hanged, that he would still be alive. The executioner still stood on the platform above him, and medical officials scurried about around the room. Then, abruptly, he was jerked out of this cloudy reverie and unceremoniously dumped on the ground. He landed on his feet, slightly wobbly and off-balance, but unharmed on the whole. Looking up, he saw the soles of a pair of sturdy boots, the barely-worn rubber of the prison-issued shoes.
He sat dazed for a moment, wondering at why he was looking at the bottom of someone's shoes when it should be him up there. And then it hit him. Like a ton of bricks, or the stomachache that abruptly follows the one-too-many bowls of MSG-packed ramen he'd eaten.
"Aw, shit."