InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Crushed Organza ❯ Ill-fated Mishaps ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer:
HY: I own six binders for my six courses during the first semester. Sniffle.
Inuyasha: Keh. You think you've got problems…
[break]
Shippou: Ee-noo-yasha! Are you OK?
[break]
Sango: Oh, Kohaku! First I shall kill you, then I shall kill myself.
[break]
Kikyou: You have betrayed me, Inuyasha. Come with me to hell. Then we can be together forever. And you can cook me lots of ramen. And massage my feet.
Naraku: Ku! How come nobody ever massages my feet? Pout.
[break]
Kanna: Naraku is in possession of Onigumo's smelly feet. It was foretold in the mirror.
Kagura: Get a life.
[break]
HY: I really don't known Inuyasha. Because I'm not pretty enough. Sob.
[break]
Inuyasha: Tee hee. Tee hee hee.
Kaede: Miroku! Did ye feed him sake again?
Miroku: Gasp. It was not meant for him. Rather for the lovely Sango.
Inuyasha: Oohh. You're purrty.
Miroku: Choke. Slap. Don't. Touch. There.
[censured for mature content]

Warning(s): I'm currently reading a superb book about the Big Bang Theory. Obviously I am not in my right frame of mind. So beware.

A.N.: I don't know much about weather in Japan, so please excuse any errors I make with reference to snow or any other meteorological event.

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Chapter Four: Ill-fated Mishaps

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In the beginning, there was nothing.

Only the potential to be something.

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She woke up dreaming about nothing.

Except it hadn't really been nothing. Just nothing that she ever wanted to dream about again.

This day really can't get any worse. Kagome winced. She felt rather disorientated from her sleep, lacking though it may have been in duration, but most definitely not in horror.

Outside, the wind abruptly picked up speed, practically howling in its intensity.

Massive, anvil-shaped cumulonimbus clouds appeared out of nowhere, casting the sky in foreboding darkness.

The Fates were oh so tempted.

And just to prove that the day could get worse, there was an insistent crick in the muscles on Kagome's neck. An aching cramp that made her want to hit something.

Note to self, never again sleep against coffee table.

And feeling decidedly immature, Kagome aimed a vicious kick at the offensive piece of furniture.

Except her foot somehow got caught in the hem of her pajama bottoms.

And before she had even brushed her teeth, Kagome found herself caught in an intimate embrace with said block of wood.

An embrace that involved the contact of the forehead of one, and the malignant and extremely pointed corner of the other.

Which resulted in a loud crack.

Clutching her head in agony, Kagome felt an awkward pressure at the back of her throat. And why were there yaks capering about in front of her?

She whimpering pathetically.

And raced desperately to make the close acquaintance of the toilet bowl.

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After her puking session, and the intake of a few painkillers, Kagome felt much better.

If you were to regard drinking a litre of yak milk a truly liberating and pleasant experience, as well as something to be repeated again and again.

She most certainly did not.

And to make matters worse, there was a prominent bruise marring her otherwise unblemished forehead.

A purple and blue mass of swollen flesh that refused to go down even with the application of a hunk of ice.

She remembered gasping in outrage and abhorrence in front of the mirror, and thinking that she really did look as repugnant as Sesshoumaru considered her to be.

And if she wasn't so busy making breakfast for Jaken and herself, she probably would have broken down and cried.

About all the injustices in the world. And about the famished, suffering children in developing countries.

Wow. Those World Vision infomercials were really getting to her.

Flipping the ham omelet one last time, Kagome simultaneously poured warmed milk into a clear plastic bottle. She turned off the stove and headed toward her bedroom. Opening the door quietly, she found herself gazing into wide, amber eyes.

Guilty, wide, amber eyes.

Because Jaken had just been caught chewing exuberantly on one of Kagome's new stilettos. The shiny black ones that she had planned to wear at the Charity Gala, this Saturday.

The shoe dropped listlessly to the floor. Thunk.

Jaken stuck out his lower lip and pouted adorably.

This kid was a professional.

But she told herself that she would not be swayed merely because he was just too cute.

His eyes began to water. And a tiny snivel escaped from his throat.

Must. Resist.

But it was no use.

Kagome sighed helplessly, and smiled weakly at the (hopefully) contrite infant.

He held out his arms to her eagerly for a bear hug. And gave her a sunny smile.

Men. Boys. All of them master manipulators, she thought sourly.

And were kids supposed to be teething at age one? She had no clue. Maybe it was just a fetish. Passed down on to him from his father.

Kagome snickered.

They all played together at the shrine as kids, and she still remembered when Kikyou and her would gang up on Inuyasha to coerce him into wearing their sparkly high-heels.

And then posing for their Polaroid cameras (the ones Mama had given them on their birthdays that year).

She still had those photos. Somewhere

Kagome instantly sobered. Because she remembered something else too. How he, Sesshoumaru (at three years their senior) would always break up their fun.

Always with such an intense expression on his face. Always with quick words that sliced at them, condemning them for just being children.

Every time, she was hurt the most.

But she hadn't hated him then. No. Not then.

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Following the call to her boss for a leave of absence, Kagome spent the morning playing with Jaken and his heap of toys.

And then sorting through and unpacking his belongings. Which didn't take long, considering that Kikyou was a neurotic, neat freak, and she had actually labeled all of the boxes and bags.

So, wonderful cousin that she was, Kagome spontaneously tore off all the labels.

The ripping sounds were quite satisfactorily soothing on her frazzled nerves.

Just when she was really starting to get into the task, the little tyke waddled over to her. Tugging on her pant leg, he frowned and said, "Outshide, 'Go-meh."

Kagome glanced uneasily out the living room window. The sky was still overcast, and didn't seem like it would let up anytime soon.

Still. How could she say no? He was getting restless from staying indoors.

She nodded. "Okie dokie, little guy. But only for a few minutes."

He squealed excitedly, and hugged her knees.

Kagome melted into a puddle of vanilla pudding.

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It took all of twenty minutes to get bundled up (it was December, after all), and they were off.

The park was only two blocks away, so Kagome tried not to be too worried. If the weather turned bad, they would still be able to make a run for it back home.

But that didn't mean she was any less wary of the unpredictable elements.

It wasn't that she disliked storms.

Not at all.

She just liked them better when she was dry and safe indoors.

Arriving at the extensive area of greenery surrounded by busy streets and towering buildings, Kagome noted that it was rather deserted, save for the occasional passerby, crossing the park as a shortcut to someplace else.

Most people had the common sense to stay indoors during potentially stormy weather.

But then most people didn't have to babysit a demanding kid with a Ph.D. at always getting what he wants.

Jaken plopped himself down on the grass. And began to tear up the manicured lawn, throwing the torn blades of grass and clumps of mud up, up into the air.

Only to have it come back down to litter his clean hair.

Kagome sighed profoundly. And tried to keep away from Jaken's grubby fingers.

Then something cold and wet fell onto her nose.

And pretty soon, large, fleecy snowflakes were fluttering down wildly from the dismal sky.

Jaken shrieked in joy, and opened his mouth to collect as many of them as he could.

"No eating snow, Jaken. Acid precipitation," Kagome stated sagely.

He only blinked at her blankly, squealed ecstatically, and tugged on her dark tresses.

Kagome was unquestionably miffed. She was cranky and cold. Her head was, once more, throbbing with pain from her earlier accident. And now she had soil clinging to her damp hair.

She just wanted to go home.

So, hoisting Jaken up into her arms, she did.

It was time for lunch, anyway.

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Sorry if this chapter had no interaction between Kagome and Sesshoumaru. But still. Separation makes the heart grow fonder. Hopefully by the next chapter, I'll be able to think up a way for Sesshy to appear again. Even if I have to chain and gag him.

Thanks for reading, and please review!