InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Crushed Organza ❯ An Untimely Confrontation and Pointless Discourse ( Chapter 5 )

Disclaimer: When the planets and stars all align in an evenly spaced straight line, then perhaps I shall own Inuyasha. That is, unless Naraku creates a black hole the size of Miroku's ego, into which all the ramen will fall…

Warning(s): Beware of Boredom. That is all I have to say.

A.N.: I do not believe Sesshoumaru, uncooperative bastard that he is, will be making an appearance in this chapter. I'm sorry. Really, I am. But you can still bid for his (unwashed?) loincloth at e-bay.

I have come to realize how truly desperate Inuyasha is for a peep show. Such as when he ripped off Naraku's clothes to reveal his beautiful back, or when he made Kagura's kimono disintegrate with Tetsusaiga.
'Goodness, even Shippou is not safe!! Someone should, like, lock Inuyasha up. Or at least pin him to a tree.

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Chapter Five: An Untimely Confrontation and Pointless Discourse

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If it smelled like chicken and tasted like chicken, then was it really chicken?

Kagome pondered that question until her brain felt like it would explode.

And mentally composed a letter of complaint to the itamidome company.

"Kagome? Are you alright?" A concerned voice startled her from her musings. Musings from the land where only the mentally unstable dare to proceed.

"Oh, sure," she replied unconvincingly, viciously spearing an unsuspecting cherry tomato with her chopsticks.

Koharu stared at her friend worriedly from across the table at the restaurant. Kagome normally didn't act this distracted.

And she usually didn't attack her food with such violence, after staring at the plate for the last twenty minutes as if she had never before seen the likes of it.

Plus there was that colossal bruise on her forehead.

"Maybe you should go home and rest. I can babysit Jaken for you tonight," Koharu offered.

Removing a stray piece of Romaine lettuce from her clothes (which Jaken, in a fit of naughtiness, had so generously contributed to the collection of launched vegetables in her lap), Kagome pasted a smile on her taut face.

"Most certainly not," she stated firmly. "I'm perfectly fine." And tried not to feel so dirty from the utterance her blatant lie.

Evidently, her best friend since high school knew it too. And was trying hard not to laugh at her as she squirmed uncomfortably in her cushioned seat.

Was nobody capable of showing signs of compassion for one so entrenched in pain?

Apparently not.

Hmph.

Kagome prepared to assail another innocent piece of food from her plate.

Take that, you!

But was interrupted from the exhilarating experience by an amused cough from behind her.

Her cheeks lit up all of a sudden, as if the previously closed circuit was, well, not closed anymore.

And the overtly intense flare of red induced all other occupants of the restaurant into a permanent state of blindness.

Then her hand, the one not occupied by the article of cutlery, was held in a warm, firm grip.

She gulped. It couldn't be.

And it wasn't.

"Beautiful maiden, seeing that you have the most passionate zeal I have ever witnessed for my cooking, I would be greatly honoured if you would consent to bear my child."

Uhn.

Who the hell was this nutcase?

A snort of laughter emerged from Koharu's mouth, barely muffled by a pale hand.

Kagome hoped she suffocated. Or something.

But was disturbed from any further thought by the sensation of a lukewarm dampness hitting the back of her accosted appendage.

Kagome began to hyperventilate.

She was much too young to contract a fatal disease from the saliva of a man of a questionable mental standing.

Plus, she hadn't even managed to see Sesshoumaru naked yet.

Gah!

She didn't just think that. She didn't.

Blushing furiously from her thoughts, and almost becoming cross-eyed from embarrassment, Kagome discreetly extracted her hand from the deranged man with violet eyes.

And attempted frenziedly to rub off the possibly contaminating kiss on the white, pressed tablecloth.

"Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Naruumi Miroku, and I am the owner of this modest establishment."

Kagome vowed never to come back there again.

But refrained from replying, for fear of saying something obscenely rude.

Koharu simpered and fluttered her eyelashes wildly. "Oh! You own this lovely restaurant? And you cook too! How delightful! I'm Adachi Koharu, and this is my friend, Higurashi Kagome and her nephew, Jaken." She held out her hand expectantly for a kiss.

Kagome felt like throwing up. Again.

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Thirty-two minutes had passed.

And Koharu and that - that awful creature were still flirting, all the while ignoring Kagome and Jaken's existence.

Not that Jaken cared much. He was too busy munching with much relish on a large piece of tempura-coated shrimp.

Kagome never realized, before now, the full extent of her friend's terrible taste in men. And suddenly she wished that she had encouraged Koharu to seek counseling. Preferably from an authorized professional. With decades - no, centuries of experience in dealing with this sort of thing.

Her appetite was irrevocably gone. And that headache was back full-force.

Whimpering miserably into her half-eaten plate of salad, she decided to make her escape.

"You were absolutely right, Koharu-chan," she began, not even having to feign exhaustion. "I am feeling decidedly ill, so I'd better head home. Right this instant. So…you guys, uh, have fun."

She stood up, placed some bills onto the table, and grabbed her handbag.

"Yes, it was wonderful making your acquaintance, Kagome-san." Miroku said absently, not at all able to tear his attention away from Koharu's, er…face.

"Sayonara, Kagome-chan!" Koharu replied, giving her a cheeky wink, and then rolled her eyes theatrically at Miroku (who didn't notice, due to the fact that his eyes were otherwise occupied with staring at another region of her anatomy), as he launched into another spiel about nothing in particular.

Kagome brightened instantly. So maybe her friend wasn't in need of therapy after all.

Carrying Jaken in both arms, she made her way to the coatroom on her way out the restaurant.

"Oh! So you're a monk, as well!" she heard Koharu exclaim, followed by a flirtatious giggle.

Poorly concealing her mirth, Kagome chortled helplessly at the irony of such a statement.

And tried to ignore the uneasy glances of an old couple who were also retrieving their jackets from the room.

Youngsters these days, they both thought hopelessly.

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Okay. I distinctly remember saying that I wasn't going to put up a glossary for words in romaji. Well I am. So there.

Itamidome - painkiller

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Sob. It hurts me greatly to write about Miroku in such an unflattering manner. But it must be done. Well, maybe not "must". But still.

I'm deeply, deeply sorry that Sesshoumaru was not in this chapter. But Miroku does not take kindly to being treated as second best. So I had to let him have the spotlight for awhile. After all, he likes purple panties.

Thanks for reading! And please review.