InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Contest Two ❯ The Horror! ( Chapter 13 )

Story Title: The Horror!

Author: Horridporrid

Disclaimer: Not mine

Story Summary: Sometimes dreams reveal more than we really want to know.

Rating: PG-13 (unless the word 'nipple' automatically gets you an R. I'm so unclear on these things.)

Kagome was late. She was trying to run, but her limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. The sun beat down oppressively from a barren sky. Trees rustled indifferently from within their uniform squares of pale earth lined along the gleaming sidewalk. Her destination loomed threateningly on the horizon. She was trying to move, and she couldn't, and she was late. And then suddenly, mercifully, she was there.

Kagome stood at the door of her classroom, and no one saw her. They were all bent over their desks, concentrating on the papers in front of them. The teacher stood with his back to the class, staring out the window, a dark shadow in the overly bright sunlight. If she was quick and quiet, Kagome could get to her desk, empty and stark in the sunlit corner, and no one would ever know that she was late. And now, when she most needed too, she was moving like a mountain stream, sure and swift and smooth. And she was at her desk and she was safe.

The test was waiting for her, and Kagome bent over it, blending into her classmates, dissolving into the group. But it didn't make sense. Kagome frowned and bent down closer. Figures and symbols swam in front of her eyes, but she couldn't tell what they meant. Was that a six? Or was it a three? She couldn't tell, and the harder she tried, the more the meaning slipped away. Kagome shifted anxiously in her seat. Was it a problem with the paper? Should she ask the teacher? Could she risk calling attention to herself?

"Teacher, teacher," a voice piped up, taking the decision out of Kagome's hands. Someone else was having problems with the test; Kagome was not alone. With blessed relief, Kagome sat up and looked over the sea of bent heads. A small hand was waving at the front of the classroom, and the teacher was turning an attentive face towards the student.

"On question twenty-seven, did you just want the formula, or should we list the source too?"

"Oh, both I should think," the teacher replied easily. "It's only fair."

There was a quiet rustle of murmured agreement throughout the classroom. Yes, it was only fair. Heads bobbed in polite accord and Kagome couldn't move. She was panicked and numb and she couldn't move. But she should have nodded and murmured with the rest of the class. She had failed to blend. And now the teacher was looking right at her. Was frowning right at her.

"Kagome, what are you wearing?"

Kagome stood up obediently, and she tried to answer, to explain that she was wearing her uniform, like she was supposed to. But her tongue was swollen with fear and she couldn't open her mouth.

"She was late too, teacher. She was late." It was the same student who had asked the question, and Kagome wanted to kill him. To rip his head from his body and dance in his blood. And then the student turned around and it was Souta. Sweet little Souta who collected her homework for her and remembered her books and he looked so sad. He was looking at her and he was sad, and Kagome wanted to cry with shame.

She stumbled to the front of the class, stubbing her toes on the floor, and bruising her hips on the desks. Books fell in her wake and the teacher still frowned as she finally stood in front of him, panting and sweating from the effort.

"I am sorry Kagome, but we can do this no longer." The teacher shook his head sadly. "If you are unable to even follow the dress code..."

Kagome looked at her fellow classmates and horrible understanding dawned. They were all Souta's age, prepubescent and androgynous. And they were all nude, their little pink bodies as similar as a uniform. "Wait! Please, I can..." Kagome struggled to pull off her clothes, even though she knew that it was impossible, that she was too long limbed and rounded in all the wrong places. She would never blend in.

The teacher was unaffected by her pleas, and he herded her towards the door. "I am sorry, but you have been here for far too long. You must go to the principal and receive your dismissal." Without even a final glance, he pushed Kagome out into the hallway.

Her sweater was being difficult and her arms were now tangled helplessly at her sides. The floor was moving at incredible speed, sweeping her down the never-ending hallway so that the many classroom doors passed in a blur. The soft sibilant sound of pencils scratching over paper filled her ears, and soon she was drowning in the sound. Kagome tried to grab at the walls, but they slid by too quickly. Panic was a solid presence in her chest. She couldn't get thrown out of school, she just couldn't! Desperately, she screamed for Inuyasha. She knew she screamed. She could feel her throat muscles working and tearing with the effort. But there was no sound. Only the pencils, working steadily away. And the floor sped her along to the principal.

Kagome worked desperately at her clothing. If she was naked when she got to his office, maybe then the principal would listen to her, would give her one more chance. She was down to her underwear when suddenly the hall floor transformed into an escalator sinking into the bowels of the school. For one terrifying moment Kagome was afraid she would fall: tumbling forever down, bruised, bloodied, and forgotten. But she regained her balance and instead of a chaotic plummet she was carried downward at a slow, steady, inevitable pace. Forgettable music tinkled quietly through tinny speakers, and flourescent lights buzzed sleepily overhead.

At first Kagome was soothed by the music, the blank walls sliding slowly by, the soft flickering light. But a creeping sense of exposure was tickling up her spine and Kagome was no longer sure about her decision to discard her uniform. Her bra was faded, the elastic of her panties stretched and drooping, only their age made them a matching set. How could she impress the principal dressed like this? Kagome wrapped her arms around herself and slumped a little. "Inuyasha," she whimpered.

"Kagome," a strangely familiar voice replied softly.

Kagome turned toward the voice and smiled. "Miroku," she said, and relief washed through her, because she was not alone, and he was naked too.

He was paralleling her, walking down the up-escalator and easily keeping pace with the down-escalator she rode. "Why are you going down?" he asked.

"Oh, umm... I was told -,"

"Ah, yes. One must always do what one is told," he interrupted, his pious tone at odds with his teasing smirk.

Kagome huffed in annoyance and his smirk grew. "Well, why are you going down?" she asked pointedly.

"I'm not going down, I'm going up."

"But, you're..." she gestured downward where the escalator stretched ever onwards, its bold lines eventually collapsing into a distant pinprick.

"This is just a digression," he said easily. "My true journey is up."

"Oh." They moved together in silence for a while, and then, "Can I go up with you?" Kagome asked.

Miroku smiled, a genuine smile that warmed Kagome to her toes. "Of course."

So Kagome gripped the cold silvery sides of the banister between them, and rolled her body onto the two moving handrails. The wide dark rubber pulled at her skin, and it was a strange sensation, having part of her pulled down and part of her pulled up, while the rest of her hung in infinite space. But she continued her roll, swinging her legs over towards Miroku's side, and he held her waist in a strong sure grip and then she was standing on the stair with him, grinning like a little girl and barely resisting the temptation to throw her hands in the air like a gymnast and say "Ta-da!"

Miroku released her and rested his hip against the side of the escalator. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, and grinned back down at her. Kagome realized, with a strange tickle of disappointment that he wasn't completely naked. He wore crisp, white boxers that were two sizes too big for him. They had a giant, bright yellow smiley face on the crotch. As Kagome looked down at the smiley face, it winked at her and she jumped a little in surprise. "He's friendly," she said, looking back up at Miroku.

Miroku shrugged one shoulder. "He likes you."

For some reason, that simple statement sent a spear of heat shooting through Kagome. She was strangely aware of Miroku's bare chest, the smooth golden skin, the ripple of muscle as he uncrossed his arms, the dusky circle of each nipple. She wondered what he tasted like.

"Here we are."

Startled, Kagome tore her gaze away from Miroku's body to see that the escalator was coming to an end. Miroku grabbed her hand and strode briskly forward, pulling her in his wake. The concrete ground was hard and gritty under her bare feet and Kagome's first impression was of cavernous emptiness. Then an unintelligible, but weirdly familiar voice spoke efficiently from overhead speakers. Now Kagome could tell they were in an enormous train station. "But where are all the -" she started to ask when a massive mechanical screeching overrode all attempts at speech.

Cringing, Kagome followed her instincts and froze. Suddenly a mass of humanity engulfed her. Men and women, clad in black business suits that harshly crushed out any attempt at individuality, surged and eddied in a complex pattern that had little patience for anyone standing still. As they brushed against her with increasing strength, Kagome could feel her tenuous grip on Miroku's hand start to slip. Kagome broke into a cold sweat. She was going to loose him! She could feel a terrified whimper building in her throat and then suddenly strong arms wrapped around her.

"It's okay, Kagome. I'm here. I've got you." Miroku's warm breath tickled her ear and the heat of his skin pressed into hers. She was surrounded by his scent, the smell of hot summers at the beach, salt-encrusted bodies and baked sand, and conversely, a tea house in the mountains, crisp tree-cleansed air and heat-infused jasmine. She looked up into his dark, dark eyes and a desire filled her so full, her very skin tingled with it.

Miroku smiled down at her, knowledge tickling the corner of his mouth. "Do as you wish, Kagome," he said so softly it was like he hadn't spoken at all. But she had heard him and that was all the permission she needed.

Kagome twisted around in his arms, and rose up on tip-toes. The black suits still crashed around them, but she took no notice of them now. Instead she buried her nose in the crook of Miroku's neck and then, tentatively at first but with rising hunger, she began to lick him. He tasted as he smelled, and Kagome eagerly worked her way up his neck, lingering on a particularly delicious spot just behind his ear before moving on to lick and nibble along his jaw. It was delightful! How she had longed to do this, and now she was! With a great sense of daring, Kagome maneuvered herself until she was nuzzling at the side of his mouth. Soon, she thought, soon she would kiss him, and maybe, oh maybe, he would kiss her back.

"What the hell are you doing!"

Kagome's eyes snapped open and she hung for a long disorienting moment between sleep and awake. Then her mind caught up and she knew that she was not trapped in some strange dreamscape, but settled safely in the feudal era.

"Calm yourself, Inuyasha. Kagome was having a nightmare. I was merely comforting her." Miroku's soothing voice vibrated through her, which Kagome found strange at first. And then she realized that she was snuggled up against the monk! With a gasp she wriggled out of his arms and flopped back onto her sleeping bag. Two pairs of startled eyes stared down at her, and Kagome could feel a blush starting.

"Are you okay, Kagome?" Inuyasha's golden eyes softened in concern and that special thrill ran through her that always came when Inuyasha turned his full attention on her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said.

"Was it a really bad dream?"

Kagome hesitated. She couldn't quite remember the dream. She could recall a faint sense of fear, but mostly she remembered a strange kind of excitement. An unexplainable sensation that still tingled through her body. "I don't think..."

"You were calling out for Inuyasha," Miroku said quietly, and when Kagome looked at the monk the lingering feelings spiked suddenly.

"Oh! I - I did?" Kagome flushed under Miroku's concerned gaze. Had his eyes always been so deep a blue ? Embarrassed and confused Kagome turned towards Inuyasha, comforted by the familiar pull of attraction she felt for the half-demon. "Well, it must not have been that bad, since I can't really remember it."

Inuyasha scooted closer. Kagome could tell he wanted to touch her. She hoped he would. But even as he reached out his hand the usual look of guilt passed over his face, and he stopped mid-gesture. "I'm going to go back to patrolling?" He turned his statement into a question and despite her frustration Kagome was touched by his willingness to stay if she needed him.

"Okay," she whispered, giving him permission to leave. Kagome snuggled back into her sleeping-bag as Inuyasha took to the trees. She certainly didn't need him to leave off his watch over a silly, maybe-scary dream.

There was a rustle of movement and then Miroku was leaning over her, his eyes crinkled in amusement. "Don't worry Kagome," he said, brushing her cheek with one hand. "I'll be glad to help you through any more bad dreams." He looked down at her for a long moment, clearly waiting for a reply, and clearly feeling more and more awkward when no reply was forthcoming.

Kagome knew she should come back with a quick rejoinder, maybe even a half-hearted slap for his presumptuousness. But with his proximity and his touch, her dream had come flooding back in all its glory. Including the smiley face boxers, God help her. It was all she could do to keep from kissing him. So she gripped the fabric of her sleeping bag in her fists and stared, and Miroku's look of amusement turned to one of concern.

"Are you sure you're okay, Kagome?"

Kagome laughed a little hysterically. "Of course! I'm fine! It was a very weird dream, that's all," she said. "Didn't mean a thing," she added, probably a tad too fiercely. She nodded her head emphatically and then covered herself with the sleeping bag, turning decisively away from the confused monk. Because it was just a stupid dream, and she loved Inuyasha, sweet conflicted Inuyasha. And she absolutely refused to breathe in the poignant scent that lingered around her, or think about the taste that danced temptingly just beyond the tip of her tongue.

:::the end:::