InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Beauty School Dropout ❯ Stressful Morning(s) ( Chapter 1 )

A/N: Well…my first Inuyasha story. To be upfront I will let you know that I do not tell what the pairings are beforehand. I think that ruins the story. Oh and yeah I haven't quite decided what's going to happen with some of them…heh heh heh. To clear a few things up this will be a comedy (I hope!) romance. Hopefully not too much OOCness. But since I have never actually witnessed an episode with Bankotsu or Jakotsu I might be a little off. Apologies for that. But come on, hairdressing story…you need some gay guys!

Anyway, this idea came to me quite some time ago. I've just been trying to get some chapters done beforehand so that you don't have to wait long periods of time for updates.

Anyway, I do not have a beta so if you do see many mistakes please feel free to roll your eyes. Enough of my mindless drabble…here's what you came for...enjoy!

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<i>Beep…Beep…Beep…CRASH </i>

A small fist slammed the offending alarm clock a little harder than necessary. The abused appliance was lying on the ground, its batteries scattered to various places on the tan carpet.

"Well, I guess that's one way to turn the alarm off." A feminine voice muttered from underneath a blue, musty blanket. The woman peeked out from underneath her blanket, blinking her eyes slowly and attempting the rub the sleep out of them.

She groaned slightly and began sitting up. Eventually she made her way to a sitting position. The sofa that she was using as a bed was fairly worn, so when she had her full weight concentrated on one area the pillows beneath her began to sink. She sat still for a few moments, allowing herself to fall, but before she sunk much further, she forced herself to get up.

She stretched for a good couple of minutes, and then bent over to find the lost batteries. After finding the final one lying next to a dirty bowl, she shoved it into its proper slot and checked the time. The digital numbers shone that it was 6:30.

Sighing, the woman put down the clock on an end table next to her sofa. Not bothering to pick up the various dirty dishes, trash, and clothes lying all over the rug, she made her way to the bathroom. To say that it was cramped would be a bit generous. The woman could barely take two steps without bumping into the opposite wall. The grimy floor was cold and the woman couldn't help but shiver as she stepped onto it. Random stains coated the (probably) once white linoleum.

Her shower hadn't worked for the past week, so she settled for rubbing cold water from the sink on her face. She also grabbed a face towel hanging on the door knob and soaked it with the unbelievable icy water. Squeezing some hand soap onto the green material, she hesitated for a moment before forcing herself to touch her skin with the cold cloth. She did her best to clean herself, hoping that she didn't smell too raunchy.

As soon as she was done, she quickly scavenged her small apartment for clothes that didn't appear dirty. Eventually she settled for something that she wore three days ago. But she figured that no one would notice.

Ignoring the protests from her empty stomach, the woman left her apartment and descended three flights of stairs. She fished her car keys out of her pocket and walked behind the brick building to a parking lot. Walking at a fairly quick pace she suddenly stopped in front of a shiny, beautiful red convertible.

"Yeah, in your <i>dreams </i> Kagome." And she walked to the car next to it, a beat up station wagon. When she put the key into the ignition it stalled twice, before Kagome cursed and tried a third time. With a sputter the engine pathetically stirred to life, and she was off to work.

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Hunched over a huge desk sat an old woman. The desk was very neat and orderly, not a pencil or paper out of place. There was barely a speck of dust coating the wooden surface. On the top of the desk were a holder for business cards and a nameplate. The nameplate read: Kaede, and the business cards had in scripted pink ink;

<i>Shikon Salon
Hair, Nail, and Facial Specialists </i>

In front of the old woman, the only thing cluttering her otherwise clear desk was a large appointment book. It was filled with messy handwriting, scribbled things in almost every available box. Everything was written in pencil however, since there tended to be an enormous number of changes, cancellations, and last minute calls from clients, demanding to be seen.

Kaede squinted her one good eye, the other one being glass, at a figure standing in front of the salon's entrance. Immediately she recognized her as one of the manicurists at her salon, Sango. What gave her away were her high pony tail and the fact that she was smoking a cigarette. Kaede often wondered how the manicurist could smoke so many packs, yet still be able to teach an intense defensive class at night. Yet no matter how much smoke or tar she forced into her lungs, nothing prevented her from being able to demonstrate to a young woman how to successful fend off lechers and attackers.

Sango finished her cigarette slowly, enjoying every last puff until finally she reached its end and was forced to stomp it out with one of her giant boots. After making sure that it was completely put out, she opened one of the glass doors to the salon's entrance, and made her way to Kaede's desk.

"Morning Kaede." The younger woman greeted her boss.

"Good morning Sango," Kaede replied, not in an overly cheerful way.

"So what's my schedule for today?" Sango tried peeking over the desk's top to see the notebook. Kaede just grunted, and started searching for her name in the book.

"Hm…Sango, you're working from 8:30 until 3:45."

"Anytime for a lunch break?"

"At 12:00, but only until 12:15."

"Okay."

Sango walked away from Kaede and made her way out of the waiting area. She walked past some hairstyling chairs, sinks, and eventually to her manicure desk. It was ordinary, there were hand lotions, a heating lamp, and different shades of nail polish. Deciding that she had plenty of time before she had to work, Sango fished around in her purse for a granola bar.

"Mmm…strawberry…"

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Kaede barely heard the door open a short while later as a tall, silver haired man entered the Shikon Salon. When Kaede looked up, the man gave her a slight nod.

Graceful as a ballerina, the man seemed to glide as he made his way towards the elder woman's desk. Without speaking he lifted one of his well groomed nails, and reached over to where the notebook in front of Kaede lay. He twisted it towards him and began scanning the page to check his schedule. After about a moment, he sharply inhaled, and raised his eyes to meet Kaede's.

"What is this?"

"You're scheduled with Sara at 2:35." Kaede remarked indifferently.

"I specifically said that I never wanted to be near that woman ever again."

"And is it not Shikon Salon policy that we will accept anyone at anytime, to the best of our ability?"

"Perhaps I should find work elsewhere." The man commented.

"Sesshomaru, if you are that adverse to the idea of cutting a woman's hair then I suggest you do find work elsewhere."

"That is not that point. She attempted to murder my brother to prove her love to me."

"Your first client arrives in a half hour, I suggest you head towards your chair."
Sesshomaru didn't argue, and kept his expression blank. Turning on his heel he headed towards the rows of styling chairs until he reached his own. Ignoring Sango, who was seated several feet away from him, he began methodically placing various scissors, brushes, and other styling tools about the counter next to his chair. Kaede simply watched him, disinterested. And within a few minutes, she was back to scribbling in the notebook.

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"I can't believe this!" The red head swore loudly as she got out of her car and slammed the door behind her. She was still fuming as she practically threw her cell phone into her purse, and made her way to the front entrance of a coffee shop. The line was out the door and she knew she was already late for work. Knowing that she had to do something, the red head whistled loudly and tried to get everyone's attention. When that didn't work she screamed at the top of her lungs,

"Hey! There's cocaine in the sugar packets! Somebody get the cops!"

Satisfied with herself, the woman waited for the place to empty out, allowing her to go purchase her coffee and get out as quickly as possible. Though, instead of the shop emptying out, more people began rushing in, snatching as many packets as they could find. She cursed as she turned around to find herself surrounded by people clawing, ripping, and tearing at each other to get to the sugar. Without warning someone knocked into her, causing her to crash to the ground. Remembering what she had done when she had fallen at her first mosh pit, the red head got into a fetal position, doing her best to protect her head.

Deciding that if she was going down, someone was going with her, she grabbed the first ankle she could find, and tugged it was hard as she could. Instead of simply falling, the man ended up crashing into the teenagers in front of him, causing a complete domino effect. Like a fallen solider, the woman crawled her way to the coffee counter, hoping, praying, that she would make it to the end. When she finally managed to grab hold of the wooden edge, and clamber to her feet, she took a huge gasp of air and said,

"Large hazelnut…extra cocaine, no cream."

After the frightened looking girl behind the counter handed the red head her coffee, she did her best to fight her way out of the overpopulated shop. But when she finally managed to reach the exit, she dropped the coffee she had spent so much time trying to attain.

"SHIT! NO!" Her car was gone. The spot was completely empty. It was then that she noticed the `No Parking Anytime' sign a few inches away from where her car had once sat.

"What else can go wrong?!" The pissed off red headed asked to a group of pigeons standing nearby. They looked at her for a moment, before going back to pecking at the sidewalk. As if on cue, her cell phone began to play its overly cheery tune. Practically slamming her purse onto the ground after she grabbed the phone she screamed,

"What?!"

"Late again, Ayame?"

"Sort of. Sorry Kaede, I'll be there in less than a half hour."

"Should I tell Tsubaki to reschedule?"

"No I can definitely make it in half an hour."

"Good." Kaede hung up and Ayame let loose even more colorful language. A passing mother was walking her child and immediately slammed her hands over her son's ears as they passed.

"How am I going to make it in a half hour, with these shoes?" Ayame looked down at her red heels, and her short red skirt.

"Wonderful, and to top it all off, I get Tsubaki…the only woman over 60 who demands facials, even though she could pass for 20."

Ayame sighed and took a deep breath. And then she was sprinting the three miles to the Shikon Salon, hoping she wouldn't sprain her ankle.

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Driving a bus full of cranky elderly people was tedious enough, but sitting in standstill traffic for half of an hour was enough to make anyone suicidal. And that's exactly how Kouga, the bus driver with a pony tail felt.

His long hair refused to cooperate, and strands were falling into his eyes. Angrily, he would brush them away, and grumble a string of curses. All the while, he gripped the steering wheel with such ferocity that his knuckles were pure white.

"Are we there yet sonny?" An ancient man questioned Kouga.

"For the last time, no…we haven't arrived yet. Please stay in your seats and shut up." Putting the microphone down, Kouga returned his full attention back to staring at the line of cars ahead of him.

"Are we there yet now?" A woman piped from the back.

"No…we are not." Kouga tried to remain calm. Doing his best to stifle the guttural growl threatening to erupt from his throat.

"I have to go to the bathroom."

Kouga decided it would be best to just ignore the old people, maybe if he concentrated on the license plate ahead of him long enough, they'd all go away.

"Ow! He punched me!" One of the men shouted.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Shut up!" Trying to keep himself in control, Kouga gripped the steering wheel even harder.

"Make him stop hitting me!"

"You started it!

"No you started it."

"I'll finish it!" Kouga decided mentally that if he was forced to turn around, someone on this bus was going to die.

"Ew! Somebody farted!"

"Whoever smelt it dealt it!"

"Whoever said the rhyme committed the crime."

Deciding that enough was enough; Kouga shook his head and began banging his head against the dashboard. If he was in a coma he wouldn't be subject to this torture, right?

After a few minutes of steadily hitting his head with no luck, Kouga stood up, pulled a lever, and walked through the opened bus door. He had to escape the noise, the constant chatter of those people. Being unemployed was better than dealing with the never ending volley of complaints and questions launched in his direction. He'd rather live in a cardboard box than be forced to hear what latest arthritis medication was working best, or how many doctors recommended that people over 50 should pee 4 times a day. It was enough to drive any person mad. Kouga had finally made up his mind, he was quitting for good.

Mulling what his next plan of action should be, Kouga failed to see the red head racing towards him. She was looking at her watch as she sprinted, unable to notice the approaching man. Before either of them saw that they were about to hit each other, it was too late. There was a loud crash and the two bodies collided, and fell onto solid pavement.

"Watch where you're going!" The fiery redhead shouted.

Kouga shook his head and stood up quickly. About to scream right back, he took

a deep breath before doing a double take.

"Ayame?"

"What?" She was too concerned picking up her purse and readjusting her belt to look up and notice who she had just run into. Luckily for Kouga she was in too much of a hurry to distinguish that her ex boyfriend was speaking to her.

"It's me-"

"Whatever I'm late." And before Kouga could identify himself, she took off again, racing at full speed.

The man scratched his head and started walking again, a bit more slowly than he had been previous to bumping into his ex.

"Why didn't she recognize me?" He wondered aloud. Shrugging, he decided to not allow himself to dwell on his run in with the woman, and made his way towards the sidewalk.

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