InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Marriage of Convenience for Whom? ❯ Pills or the Great Case of Mistaken Idenity? ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. Inuyasha is the property of Rumiko Takahasi and Viz Productions. Ba.

 

A/N: Ok, here's the deal: school is back in session, so updates are going to be few and far between. But as this chapter is proof, I can write and do the shit buckets of reading required of me, so I'll make an effort not to leave you guys hanging. I know this sucks, but it's the way things are.

 

Reviews:

Crescent Venus: Yeah, I probably should go back and write in, but well, I'm lazy. I definitely will if it gets any worse.

King of Chaos: Glad to heard it. I can sleep better at night.

TouchofPixieDust, Tianna, and bbbeee: I liked the cereal too. I only wish I knew where that came from so I could write more of it.

Dave55man: good to know that someone likes the idea

Pagan sedjou: glad you like it. And thanks for saying its not clichéd. I like not being a complete hack. : )

Baka mai 28: hopefully this chapter won't be too disappointing—I did write it between Veblen and archaeology readings!

 

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and all the people who put my story/me on their favorites list!

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Miroku stared at the backside of the girl disappearing behind the pyramid of doughnut boxes, then back at his white haired friend for a moment before he popped the hanyou on the back of the head.

 

“What in the seven hells was that?” The monk gapped.

 

Inuyasha rubbed the now sore spot and turned to glare at his friend. “I couldn't help myself?” Miroku wasn't buying it. “Look, she was cute.”

 

“You're getting married.” Miroku stated, turning back to his abandoned shopping cart.

 

“What do you care? You're a pervert,” Inuyasha said nonchalantly. He reached out and plucked up a sack of sugar-free cookies, swinging them into the cart. Moving on to bread, he barely noticed when Miroku pulled the cookies out, shaking his head. It wouldn't do to have the groom to be packing on the pounds before his wedding day.

 

“What about Kikyou? This morning, you were practically tipsy saying she had finally come around. You're marrying the girl, do you really want to screw that up because of a pretty face? Believe me, I know more about screwing up with pretty faces than you might think!” He beamed at the innuendo.

 

“Look,” Inuyasha growled, rolling his eyes. “Its still Kikyou we're taking about. I'm telling you, it was beyond weird last night—she was nothing like herself. She has to be popping some sort of pill.” Inuyasha grumbled again. He had been playing the night over and over in his head, and he still wasn't sure what to think. Yes, in front of the cameras, Kikyou had been Kikyou. But when they were alone or walking—and then in the theater—she had alternated being shy or afraid and trying to make small talk with him. And idea popped into his head: something was going on. Something big. Miroku may not have a clue, but he did. Granted, he couldn't use his youkai senses when he was in disguise, but even in his human form he wasn't blind.

 

“You want to know what I think?” Inuyasha pushed, “I think that was Kikyou.” He motioned in the direction that the girl had just gone.

 

Miroku rolled his eyes. “You have never been around Kikyou in your present form, so can't know for sure. Do you really want to screw this up because of a case of mistaken identity? In my personal opinion, I think she was telling truth—that she is Kikyou's stunt double. They do look similar, but there is no way that was Kikyou.”

 

“Miroku, Kikyou doesn't have a stunt double.”

 

The monk looked at him for a moment, blinking, then regained his resolve. “So she was lying. It doesn't mean that she's Kikyou. Come on, you have an interview at three and you still have to get you hair done.” Turning on his heel in a way that Sango would have been proud of, he continued down the aisle to the vegetables.

 

Inuyasha growled, squeezing a bag of Bunny Bread in his claws. He hated it when Miroku used such high-handed methods with him—especially when the monk had a chance of being right.

 

What he really didn't understand was how the woman from the night before and the bitch who had just stolen his cereal could not be same person. It certainly seemed impossible that they could be the Kikyou he had known for years—it was like having two people pretending to be Kikyou. There had to be something wrong with her…

 

He just hoped it wasn't something too serious. Just when the woman of his dreams was recognizing him as a viable mate, he was beginning to suspect it was because she was loosing her mind.

 

He had never seen Kikyou react that way to sugar.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

“That was close.” Sango breathed a sigh of relief as they lost the two men in the aisles of the supermarket.

 

“Tell me about it.” Kagome mumbled. She felt in her pocket for the number, giving it a squeeze to make sure it was real. Sango and Kikyou would kill her if they knew what she had in the palm of her hand at that moment.

 

The thought almost made her stop dead in her tracks. Why was she doing it? Why take a stranger's name and number like that when, at the moment, for her sister's sake, she really shouldn't even exist?

 

Kagome felt her stomach drop. This could ruin everything.

 

Another voice in her head, the one she so often pushed down because it looked out only for Kagome, piped up. When was the last time a guy was remotely interested in you? Including Kouga. Face it, no matter how much you wrap yourself up in work and research, you are lonely.

 

The other voice argued back, You don't even know this guy's name. And you never know, Kouga could always come back.

 

But he won't, will he?

 

“Kagome? Are you alright?” Sango's worried voice pierced her thoughts. Looking up, Kagome met Sango's gaze, blushing a little when she realized that her sister's assistant had been watching her inner monologue going on.

 

“I'm fine, Sango,” she forced a smile and continued on down the aisle despite the fact that her companion had stopped.

 

Sango watched her walk away for a moment before following. She had seen the looks Kagome and that hanyou had been sharing, and she had to admit that it had her more than a little worried. Her concern was doubled when she saw Kagome slip a piece of paper in her pocket.

 

This wasn't going to be good.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Two Days Later

 

Kagome stood on a pedestal in a dress shop getting one of Kikyou's dresses from her substantial collection fitted to her form: let out at the waist and bust, bring in the shoulders, and pull in the hem a bit.

 

Sighing, she looked down at the woman sticking pins in the fabric that cloaked her body then let her gaze slide back up to the mirror where her own eyes met her gaze.

 

She was getting tired of this and it had barely been four—maybe three and a half days depending on how you counted. Since the supermarket, she had a sinking suspicion that Sango saw her exchange numbers with the hanyou. Someone was always around when she tried to use the computer so that was out as a way to contact or be contacted by him and her cell phone had mysteriously disappeared. She was feeling like a child and a prisoner, but really she expected nothing less from her sister and Sango.

 

It's for the best. He probably has a stack of bodies in his basement, and even if he doesn't, he'd hurt you. You're too soft for casual dating.

 

“Are you almost finished?” Kagome practically snapped at the dress making, then quickly apologized. She rubbed her temples in an effort to relieve the headache that was brewing on the horizon of her consciousness. This had been a bad idea, she had known it, but still she said yes to Kikyou.

 

Raising her gaze back up to the mirror, she was just in time to see a wisp of white hair disappearing in one of the dressing rooms that lined the hall to the fitting room.

 

She had never seen white hair like that before—or at least not before or since the grocery store. Kagome couldn't help but smirk, glad to see that the piece of paper with a wrinkled phone number wasn't going to waste and Sango and Kikyou's best efforts weren't going to do a bit of good.

 

“Give me a moment miss, I need just a few more pins dear,” the seamstress smiled up at Kagome. A little shakily she got to her feet with the help of Kagome's offered hand and made her way to one of the back rooms.

 

Kagome gave herself another once over in the mirror—the dress was starting to look much better and would be vastly improved once all the pin had been replaced with stitches. The dresses Kikyou had in her vault were all far more glamorous than anything Kagome had worn in years so they looked so foreign and unflattering on her. But the seamstress seemed to know enough to mold them into something looked good even on her.

 

A cough from the direction of the dressing rooms brought Kagome's attention to the line of curtains that lined the hall.

 

The silver hair…

 

Slipping off the pedestal, Kagome carefully gathered the dress and began to creep to the line of rooms. Which one had it been? Somewhere near the middle…

 

A muffled curse drew her to a curtain not two doors down from where she stood. Tip toeing, she stepped in front of the drape-covered door and debated over what her next move should be.

 

What if it isn't him?

 

How many people do you know with hair that color?

 

Even it is him, what are you going to do? He may just think you're a weird stalker with a cereal fetish!

 

No, he gave you his number! He wants to see you again.

 

I don't know, this may be a bad idea…

 

Kagome sighed. She raised her hand to knock on the panel next to the curtain, but then let her fist fall. This was stupid.

 

She was turning to go when the door slid open. Kagome wasn't really sure what she saw, but it certainly looked like Inuyasha: she could have sworn that she saw the actor's trademark black hair and violet eyes. There was startled scream and the curtain was violently thrust shut.

 

Standing where she was, Kagome tried to process what exactly it was that she had just had a glimpse of. She worried her lower lip and was about to leave for the second time, when the curtain opened again and a form very much a hanyou stepped out.

 

He looked down at her for a moment, and Kagome was sure that he didn't recognize her. Then he smirked and it was clear that he knew who she was just as well as she knew who he was. Kagome felt an impulse to clutch a bag of cereal to herself.

 

“Well, well, if it isn't the cereal whore!” He growled mischievously in a way that could almost have been considered a laugh if it had not held a trace of menace.

 

“At least I got the cereal. You went home without sugar,” Kagome took a step back, taking in the man's clothes. It looked as if he were getting fitted for a simple suit, as though he were going to a wedding.

 

“Speaking of home,” he said, his tone changing to one with less mirth and more than a little nervousness as he fidgeted with the buttons on his tux, “you never called me. And your `number' seems to have been disconnected.”

 

Kagome couldn't help but blush. So did they not only took my phone, but they cancelled my contract. Greeeaaat!

 

“Oh,” she tried to cover. “Sorry, I dropped my phone the other day and it, well, shattered.” As much as she was trying to stop it, she blushed again. “I'm Kagome, again.” She remembered Sango's introducing her as Kikyou's stunt double. Yeah, you could say that. “I don't think I even got your name the other day,” she smiled lopsided, holding out her hand to him as best she could with all the pins threatening to stick her in various places and painful ways.

 

A look of what under normal circumstances she would have been called worry crossed over his face, but as soon as it was there, the expression blurred into the self confidence that seemed to fit him better.

 

“I'm Inuyasha,” he smirked down at her, shaking her hand in a firm grip.

 

Kagome's breath caught in her throat. Inuyasha? Her mind flashed back to moments before. The figure with the dark eyes and hair…a trick of the light? No, the man before her now was clearly a hanyou…so what did it mean?

 

He seemed to see the confusion on her face. “You know, like the actor? I'm sure you've heard of him. I guess it's an unusual name over here, but from the part of Japan I'm from, it's not that uncommon.” He grinned again and let her hand go. Kagome almost felt sorry for the lose of contact. “Would you like to get some coffee now?”

 

Persistent. Kagome blushed. She couldn't help but feel more than a little flattered.

 

What if he's a serial killer? He could be just trying to get you near a dark alley so he can…

 

Kagome realized that she was arguing with herself again. Looking down, she also realized that she was wearing an evening gown stuck full of pins.

 

“I'm afraid I'm not quite sure I'm dressed of the occasion.” She felt a nervous giggle slip out.

 

Inuyasha looked down at his own attire. “ I guess I'm not either. After we've been patched up then?”

 

Kagome's mind immediately flashed to Sango sitting out in the lobby waiting patiently. Her eyes slid over, past the alterations stand and mirrors to a back door. “Sure, coffee would be great.” She smiled, her stomach flipping like fucking dolphins at Sea World as he smiled back. What's wrong with me?

 

Still, she couldn't help but feel a flitter of excitement, and it wasn't that she was about to get out of the itchy dress and its evil pins.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Inuyasha quickly finished changing out of his tux and into his street clothes.

 

That had been close.

 

That had been more than close—she had fucking seen him!

 

But then she didn't seem to have notice.

 

Shrugging, he slipped on his tee shirt. She didn't seem to care that he was a hanyou.

 

Still, this was a perfect opportunity to test his Kikyou theory. Something was up and, at the very least, Kikyou was walking around pretending to be someone else. He knew the value of anonymity as well as anyone else—he switched species to hide his identity. But Kikyou was going around it in such a strange manner—you could hardly call that a disguise.

 

Slipping the curtain open a tiny bit he peeked out at the girl waiting by the back door. She had said she was afraid of the paparazzi seeing her if they went out the front exit—that because of “being Kikyou's stunt double” she often got mistaken for the actress. Whatever game she was playing he'd go along with it—at least for a while.

 

He stepped out of the dressing room and handed the pinned tux to the waiting sales associate. Looking over, he met Kagome's eyes and gave her a faint smile. She stood and turned to go out the door, Inuyasha following. As he passed the dress she had been wearing that now hung on one of the mirrors, he noticed the collections of gems that covered the gown making a flower pattern over the dress. Yanking a thread from his shirt, he tied it about the center jewel of one particularly large bloom on the hip. Perfect—if stays in place, he smirked.

 

Quickly he hurried after Kagome who was waiting outside for him.