InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dreams of Success ❯ Rock Bottom ( Chapter 2 )

Author’s Notes:Thank you Zonza for being my first reviewer on this story and inflating my wittle-bitty ego. And might I add that I really like this chapter despite the suspicion of Jack Sparrow’s drunkenness having rubbed off on me…

Thoughts by the thousands, maybe even trillions, gurgling and stewing in the jam-packed pot that was her mind, were causing Kagome’s head to ache something dreadful.

After sitting back and watching a mind-numbing handful of music videos, she suddenly felt something within her crumble and a wave of exhaustion tumble over her like a thick and hefty quilt. Wearily, she got up to change into her pajamas, completely unaware that she was putting more and more strength into that same, unsettling enigma of a question.

Another attempt to stave off the question, however, turned into fetching a couple of junk foods from the kitchen downstairs and hurrying back upstairs just in time to catch a long, romantic flick showing on Lifetime. But then the main male character reminded her of the center of her attention even though his hair was short and stubby with wild, split ends middling between chocolate brown and dark, dark cinnamon brown.

Then came the leading lady, with her long, dark, silken tresses tumbling over her shoulders. Her eyes were the darkest of hazel, and that proved just enough for Kagome to place herself in her shoes.

Mary—she was sure that was the woman’s name—had just ran away from her husband because life with him seemed unbearable knowing that she lied to him about being a virgin. She’d, unfortunately, worked as a street-side hooker in order to pay off for college. Her parents didn’t want anything to do with her for some…strange and unexplainable reason, which apparently meant that she was incapable of getting the money from them.

It wasn’t long into the movie when she finally spent a pleasant night with him at a beautiful penthouse…with roses and champagne…and the long-predicted, slow melodies of Kenny G.

Kagome could see herself now…hair tossed in disarray across a milky-white mountain of pillows and a certain rock star wedged between her thighs…while she strangled him to death like a blood-mad wrestler.

Wait! No vicious thoughts, no violent thoughts…breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, breath i—cough, gag!

Kagome coughed, brutally beating her breastbone to a pulp with her fist as she tried to cough up the Doritos chip caught in her throat. The Doritos bag slid from her lap and fell to the floor with a wounded crunch as her legs flailed around wildly, incomparably useless. Taking what seemed like tactless, but urgent measures, she shot back onto her backside, like a turtle upturned nastily onto its shell. Though she felt grateful for the cushiony safe-hold of the bed beneath her, she was still aching from the excruciating shockwaves gunning throughout her entire body thanks to her coughing spell…and the fact that the chip was practically clawing at the insides of her throat.

But this is, essentially, his fault. If only he didn’t get up and pass by Eri’s car…if only…

With one, sharp gag, the chip flew happily out her mouth and clanked against the television screen before plummeting to the floor. Panting, Kagome stared up at the ceiling before drawing herself upwards to look at the orange “thing” sitting on the floor nearby. She passed a withering glance at the bag neighboring her now gently swaying feet before gazing up at the TV. The movie was already going off and the credits were shooting rapidly up the screen with Mary and her husband ambling off into a park, hand-in-hand, following up in the background.

If only he didn’t make me feel like a bumbling fool with messed up emotions…

She sighed suddenly.

Really…she needed a life…but not just any life.

She needed a love life.

Even in darkness, Inuyasha could see the bluish-black mounds of neatly trimmed shrubbery framing the toothpick-thin brick road that wounded up to the villa. He was wheezing with horrible difficulty when he reached the gated entrance, and doubled over, clenching his thighs tightly. Sweat dribbled rapidly down his face and splattered soundlessly to the ground, forming black blotches on the road underneath the glow of the streetlamps.

I really need to stop smoking, he thought wryly.

He smiled thinly, but its light dissolved suddenly as he came to recall why he was running in the first place.

The death of his chauffer. News crews bustling into the parking lot, one by one, trying to get a piece of the action. The piercing cold of the wind the only thing propelling him to flee before they found him.

Inuyasha felt his throat clench. He felt his spit roll uncomfortably down his esophagus as he tried to muster enough strength to swallow, to hoist himself back up into erect posture. Peering to the side, he spotted the small security cameras situated into the somewhat shallow, naked crevices inwardly spooned into the brick columns holding in place the massive, black, iron fence. There was only the contingence of practicality that his brother was watching him…the cameras his eyes…their lenses supposedly suppressing the abhorrence of a deadly flame.

Stomaching the knee-buckling hope that his brother wasn’t the one watching the security monitors, Inuyasha started for the fence. Outstretching his hand to the red switch on the intercom connected to one of the large pillars, a shard of ice shuddered down his spine as he froze abruptly.

The gates creaked open…but nobody checked him out fully to see who he was.

I’m dead, he thought, but began his journey on to the villa despite the cruel inevitable.

He’d arrived at the villa at poor time. His sluggish feet weren’t all that much capable of supporting his weight as he’d walked down the long stretch heading past the sect where the limousines were often parked, and past the finely tended gardens that undoubtedly extended about half a mile, and stopped at the entrance of the colossal, three-story house. The lights that he presumed belonged to the living room were on and twinkling brightly behind a curtained, bay window partially concealed by a fence of luscious shrubs.

Eyes stuck on the window, he barely noticed the front door swing open. Until a warm beam of light fell on his face, he looked up and started to walk into the villa, ready for the slam that roared in his tired wake. Sighing and stuffing his hands into the pockets of jacket, he murmured, “I don’t want to hear it right now.”

Wordlessly, he headed for the grand staircase, which was incased in a vibrant, white glow emanating from the vast, crystal chandelier dangling from the elegantly molded ceiling up above. His eyes widened impulsively at the strong pull that seized him by the shoulder and spun him around, only to have a fist connect with his jaw. He fell with a grunt to the slippery floor, cradling his cheek with one hand and letting the rest of his weight settle freely on his other one. He looked up at the silver-haired, messily clothed figure looming over him just a couple of inches away.

He growled, “What’s your goddamn problem!”

Amber pierced into amber.

The figure, dressed only in a half-buttoned dress shirt and crinkly pants with his hair cascading wildly down his back and shoulders, narrowed his eyes. However, Inuyasha couldn’t truly tell if he’d narrowed them or not since they’d always been like sharp, golden slits of ice.

“My problem…is you,” came the smooth, venom-slick voice of the unusually disarranged man.

“Really, Sesshoumaru,” Inuyasha spoke with ill-repressed sarcasm, “you don’t rule my life, just yours. Get the record straight for once, will ya.”

Struggling his way back up onto his feet, Inuyasha cried out in pain when a deliberately extended foot forced him back down onto his stomach. He turned his face up to keep it from receiving a more than likely painful brunt from the impact as the wind was knocked out of him. His look of sheer pain melted away slowly into a look of mild amusement as he spared a dry, raspy chuckle. “I can’t believe you’d go so far as to pull such a stunt,” he said quietly with an underlying, conciliatory spark in his tone.

Sesshoumaru, with his wrinkled clothes and disheveled hair and over-conquering limb, pressed his foot deeper into his brother’s back. “I can’t believe father wanted me to look after such a spoiled and bothersome child.”

That was the last straw.

Inuyasha bucked, knocking the foot off his back in the process and scrambling to his feet with astonishing speed. He lithely spun around and prepared himself for a furious tackle that was sure to rear his brother straight into the door and send him slumping to the floor. Wrenching off his jacket and tossing it to the ground, Inuyasha rolled up one of the sleeves to his shirt and bared a tightly coiled fist, pinning his brother with a murderous glare. “What you say?” he asked, practically snarled.

Sesshoumaru’s eyes lightened just a bit along the edges. Inuyasha’s temper boiled then, producing a small flame to kindle inside his soul and release itself through his very own eyes. A red anger roused hotly inside him, uncontrollable and incapable of being quenched unless his fist made some kind of contact with his brother’s jaw.

“Look, little brother,” Sesshoumaru’s voice fell over Inuyasha like burgundy silk, “I have no time for this. Mr. Hynaki will be over in just a minute. I don’t need you spoiling this meeting.”

Tightly pursing his lips together and ensuing Sesshoumaru’s smooth and elegant strides as he brushed past him and started for the dining room, Inuyasha wetted his lips briefly before snatching up his jacket from the floor. The vivid glint still simmering in his eyes, he sauntered off towards the main staircase and climbed up, disappearing around a blind corner.

“Yes…but I’m…so…”

“Why there, Eri? Why at Tsukai Academy, huh?”

Eri gave her friend a long look glazed with regret, but it slowly whittled away into a wilted expression that clearly proclaimed, I knew I shouldn’t have done that. And Kagome wasn’t helping matters any with her irate orbs scavenging on her pitiful façade with little remorse. Though the birds were chirping happily and the sun was beaming in blinding jubilance, she didn’t look at today as being exactly wondrous, beautiful, or…happy.

“Eri…you knew that Kikyo was the dean there,” she started slowly, strongly tamping her anger down with a sigh, “She probably only wanted to hire me so she could boast the man, who was my former fiancé, in my face,” a huff, “Damn her.”

The mall stood loftily above them, letting the sunlight glint off its multi-story windows and its countless doors where people from the dozen were currently filtering out through, their bags crunching and shushing, blending in with their mindless chit-chatter. Both Kagome and Eri had decided while the day was still ripe with warmth and liberation that they would go out and shop at the local mall. What was just a small attempt to browse around the shops and stop for a bite to eat at the food court, however, turned out to be a full-blown shopping spree where the spending limits reached to the skies.

Kagome bought several new outfits, whereas Eri bought a couple of ensembles, a pair of unmentionables, some jeans and skirts, and something else with a clandestine nature.

“I bought it from Spencers,” Kagome later recalled Eri saying.

Kagome pulled to a stop right on the curb outside the mall. Eri did the same, rearing her head around to look at her companion. “Look,” she spoke, “I just thought you deserved a good opportunity, so I tipped your name off to one of the teachers that planned on retiring.”

“But a place where Kikyo works…and as dean,” Kagome tipped her head down, eyes twisting down sadly, “I can’t even be in the same room with her, let alone a place that she practically runs.”

“I…know.” But, honestly, she didn’t.

Kagome sighed and stepped off the curb, letting her shoes scuff against the gravel as she dragged them towards her car, Eri following distantly in tow. Pulling out a tiny remote tied to her key ring, she jabbed her finger down on the unlock button twice as the car flashed its lights briefly and clicked and clanked with little care towards her “sucky” attitude.

Eri paused suddenly before the very hind door to Kagome’s Lincoln Navigator, not really understanding how she could tame such a…beast. Kagome walked around her to pop the “trunk,” stopping shortly to tell Eri to watch her head, and started unloading her things into the SUV with robotic hands and fingers.

“Umm, Eri,” she murmured quietly, “I know you’re not expecting on putting those in the backseat…” She gestured with a numbly pointed finger and disbelieving glance at the pile of stuff dangling from Eri’s fingertips.

Eri blushed, “Oh! Well…no.” She added while she was settling her purchases down beside hers in the car, “Unless you don’t plan on using them…” She began to fumble for some type of divider since their bags all looked so alike…shoving in between their belongings a black binder…a thick file of papers…and a cardboard box full of…papers.

Kagome’s face contorted into a frown, “What are you doing?”

“We need something to separate our stuff,” she replied, gaining back her upright position, “the main reason why I asked you if you were using the backseats.”

Allowing Eri to brush past her and hunker down into the passenger’s seat neighboring the driver’s, Kagome clamped the trunk shut and tottered off to grab her seat. Slamming the door closed, she yanked off her purse and squeezed it into the narrow space flanked by both her and Eri. She jerked her key chain up moodily and filed through her keys only to triumphantly ram the one she was seeking into the ignition, twisting it and letting the engine roar to life.

Even though the Navigator was slightly big for her size, she wasn’t what anybody would call too short for it. She was a nice height that just barely bordered on 5’6, but for this vehicle, it was quite enough.

Rearing out of the parking slot and zooming down to the lot exit, Kagome finally decided to speak up once she hit the road heading towards the interstate, “Tell me. How much are they willing to pay?”

Eri pitched her a blank glance and then let her face split in two with a gentle smile…and then a laugh.

Kagome couldn’t fight the contagiousness of the smile as she beamed out the windshield and exploded with a fit of giggles, for once feeling as if she was 16 again, a time where topics mostly regarded nonsensical prattle and fell softly from her lips in mindless gossip and whispers.

Probably that was a certain part of my life that I’m actually missing, she thought slowly.

Flash.

“Inuyasha, Inuyasha, who do you think may’ve killed your chauffeur?”

“Was it a mob?”

“Was it your ex-girlfriend?”

“Inuyasha!”

And in another flash, a last thread, a last nerve, finally splintered.

“That’s enough!” Inuyasha boomed, outstretching his hand to seize one of the cameras making “sparkly-eyes” in his face. Instantly, it flew out of the cameraman’s grasp and crashed loudly to the ground in bits and pieces. But it didn’t stop the others from filling in his sudden absence with more flashes and questions.

Inuyasha could feel his eyes thin into tiny slits and immediately ice over, however that didn’t stop the photographers’ unrelenting pursuit. His savior though, happened to be a rosy hand against his shoulder, which thrust him through the horde of cameras and people and questions with a continual string of pardons ensuing close behind. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of relief sloshing over him, but, then again, he also couldn’t get rid of the feeling that the person whom the hand was bound to, felt…pity for him.

Pity. Now that wouldn’t go over well with him.

One of his limos, with a completely different chauffeur, duly pulled up to the curb in front of the restaurant. And he sighed mentally in one, heavily poured breath that nearly caused him to fall in a brief spell of vertigo. But then he started to remember how this whole situation began and he was instantly wedged in-between it like a slice of poor cheese packed in ruthlessly by two slices of bread and one, thick, oversized slab of meat and lettuce and tomatoes…

All I wanted was to have some fucking breakfast, he thought angrily, Nothing more. Just breakfast!

He’d “politely” asked one of his chauffeurs to drop him off at what was known to be the most battered down dining facilities in all of Tokyo called John’s Red Long and Silver. He’d keenly trusted that no one recognized who he was since the restaurant was also known to be smack dab in a secluded dessert where cable was rare and black and white TVs seemed extraordinary and new. Hardly anyone knew what was going on with the world outside his or her own barren circle. Or…at least…that was what he was led to believe.

He’d walked into the eatery, requested a small table for one, merited a few winks from several cute girls sitting in a booth neighboring him, and ordered an omelet. All was going well until he took a bite out of his meal and heard a couple of suspicious whispers coming from the booth behind him. Unfortunately, the pack of people sitting at his backside worked for a sleazy tabloid called Inverse. And they just so happened to have their cameras and cellular phones sitting right along with them…

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he should’ve never set foot into a public food place and should’ve opted for the better choice—to just have breakfast at home.

But where’s the fun in that, he asked himself.

The same hand pushed him into the car and a very virile voice bellowed, “Drive, drive, drive!”

A prodding butt, apparently seeking room, cruelly pushed Inuyasha against the door panel on the right-hand side. He heard the door slam shut and the sounds of flashing dim under the piercing screech of tires and the din of the engine.

Massaging the faint ache out of his arm, Inuyasha growled low beneath his breath. Reeling his head to the side, he snapped, “Hey, Miroku, what’s your goddamn problem!”

Sable strands ruffled in the pounding wind surging in through the half-opened windows. Lavender eyes sparkled with boasting omniscience and polished refinement, just like the hardened lines branded onto his skin and sinking into every unnoticeable crevice running along his face. Too bad the depictions were all lies, sinisterly spawned by their hideous mother, Deception. Or so Inuyasha loved to think.

Then the male next to him broke out with a wide, menacing leer, and the oh-so-generous sparkle died from his eyes along with the hard, flawless lines formerly set inside his strong cheekbones. It was a toothy grin, unveiling the whole, pearly-white entirety of his straight and perfect dentures.

Inuyasha sensed a light grimace fall over his face like the darkness right before dawn. He studiously noted that all of Miroku’s canines were congruent in both size and shape, not sharing the least bit of dissimilarity between one another while his were quite the opposite. They were long, exceptionally sharp, and transmitted the enigmatic feeling of disproportion every time he laved their slope-like backsides with his tongue…

But was he envious? Oh heavens no.

“Why, my friend, I thought I was rescuing you from the press.” Miroku beamed, “Also known as the lovely women trapped in those very tight blouses and skirts.”

“Let me guess?” Inuyasha felt his eyes steel over as he cast an incredulous glance out the window. Propping his elbow up onto the arm rest, he said with thickly oozing sarcasm, “Your intentions were to save me, stash me away inside the car and make a clean getaway that was sure to get me outta harm’s way, right?” And then he added, “And without getting anybody’s phone number?”

Miroku nodded earnestly, “Exactly, Inuyasha, exactly.”

Setting his chin in his palm and gripping his cheek with long, sturdy fingers, Inuyasha sighed heavily. In that one action, however, his cheek slipped slightly from his fingertips and allowed a very tiny burl of skin to gather up against the pads of his fingers. “Tell me, Miroku,” he rumbled dully, “why do I find that most unlikely?”

Miroku shrugged and began the immediate task of straightening out the collar of his crisp, violet dress shirt, leaving Inuyasha to wonder.

“Say, Miroku…” Inuyasha’s head perked up.

“Yeah, Inuyasha?”

“How exactly did you know I was at that restaurant in the first place?”

Miroku scoffed at the inquiry with blinding jubilance, “Why, my friend, I am allegedly your bodyguard.”

It was true. He was his bodyguard. Sesshoumaru had hired him a few years back because he thought he fit the part and barely imposed on his lofty expectations. Though Inuyasha could’ve sworn he was some type of religious abiding, middle-aged man with the way their very first meeting went about, he turned out to be a crazed maniac with slippery, piteously impure fingers that loved to grace the bottoms of any good looking female. But then he had this other side about him, this grave counterpart dwelling inside him that bore a deep ardor for guns and fighting.

Inuyasha remembered Sesshoumaru saying that his father was, as many people enjoyed saying, unique. He radiated a certain poise and strength unknown to all those around him. He was mysterious and always calm, never once falling siege beneath the pounding weights of anger, unlike a certain, silver-haired sibling of his. Strangely though, Miroku held a particular passion for his job, an impenetrable bind of commitment. And killing, no matter how bloody or degrading, barely dented his façade, another reason why Sesshoumaru plucked him especially out of a flock of hundreds.

Inuyasha wearily murmured, “But that doesn’t explain why you were there.”

Miroku beamed lightly and twisted his neck around to look out the window and at the passing buildings and cars. “Actually it does,” he replied, “I have to look after you from time to time. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to meet all the gorgeous girls that I could ever possibly desire…and…well…get paid.”

Inuyasha clenched his eyes shut and blew out a harsh breath. He didn’t notice the slight shift in gravity at first until he heard a strident shriek of wheels against gravel, and only then did it became more perceivable. He lunged forward, straight into the wall that hid the entire front of the limo from sight unlike the tiny, tinted window hovering above him, which whisked down suddenly. A threatening snarl bubbled up in Inuyasha’s throat as he passed a glance over to his bodyguard, who happened to be still sitting perfectly upright in his seat.

A curious frown settled between Miroku’s brows as he leaned forward, sticking his nose through the yawning privacy screen. “What’s wrong, Jake?” he asked the chauffeur with honest serenity.

“A couple of girls,” Jake replied in a deep voice that almost had goose-bumps springing up all over Miroku’s flesh, “They seem to be lookin’ for another way out of the city.”

“God! Who would’ve thought this city would be so voided of freeways!”

“Well…it is practically a wasteland, Kagome.”

“And your point is?” Kagome sighed, uncaringly revealing the signs of frustration lingering in both her eyes and achy throat.

They’d reached the highway in good time, only to find out that it was closed down for the rest of the day because of an unfortunate car accident. So, in hope of finding another way out of the city, they drove up and down what felt like endless roads that practically led to nowhere, seeking what soon became a “getaway” route. However, luck didn’t prove to be on their side and it wasn’t long before they got lost and irritated and tired and cramped and…

That was when they spied a rescuer caked in shiny, eye-catching darkness, grooving up the road. Smiles went all around then and Kagome managed to flag down the driver with her hand to find out a solution to their infuriating, indubitably torturous predicament.

Thank you, God! Kagome fumbled frantically with the automatic window, freezing up when the driver in the neighboring vehicle rolled down his own window with sheer ease compared to her. Nevertheless, that didn’t paralyze her startled reaction when her slightly engorged eyes collided with a blinding smile brimming with joyful, pearly whites. “Umm…” she started hesitantly.

Eri shouldered her lightly in the ribs with a furious hiss sliding through her clenched teeth. “Hurry up!” it said, or something along those lines.

Kagome took in a deep, gulping breath, “Umm…do you happen to know any other way out of this town?”

She would’ve merited an answer if it weren’t for the fact that the driver turned his head to the side at the last second, apparently exchanging a few words with somebody in the back. A couple of seconds later, the hind window whisked down gradually, unveiling a handsome gentleman dressed in a violet shirt with strands of jet black perched atop of his head.

Kagome’s eyes grew wide in shock and in unsuspecting realization. The guy’s smile…his eyes…his hair…his features…she remembered them all so well. “M—Miroku?” she heard his name unsteadily launch off her tongue.

In an instant, the man’s smile was extinguished to a mere, disconcerted frown. His eyes were snagged in a competitive match of stares with the hazel orbs glinting confusedly just within spitting range of him. “Ka—Kagome?” he murmured softly.

In all his life, not would he ever come to imagine seeing the same, pallid, heart-shaped face that brought a haze of despair to come crashing over his dreams-turned-nightmares. As days and weeks flew heedlessly on by and the months and years advanced on him with malicious intent, it had grown harder to make out the gauzy images of his mother and his baby sister. Soon, such images wandered far into the hidden marshes of his mind where they tapered down into memories that could neither be seen as lies nor truth. But his father, the leader of both sanctity and sin if ever a christening deemed possible, could’ve made such a decision with little effort.

Kagome would’ve given anything to throw question after, what used to be unanswerable, question at him, to just wrap her long arms around him and entrap him in a tight bear hug. A bear hug which, to say the least, was insistent in remembering the shape of his figure, the rough stubble clearly accruing on his chin, the beat-pattern of his heart, and the amount of warmth that emanated from his skin. She would’ve given it all, her money, her job, her car, and the many bags assembled in its trunk, just to steal an up-close glimpse of him.

Eri swallowed quietly. “Ka—Kagome, are y—you o—okay?” she stammered.

The driver was left hogtied by the rushing waves of silence. It was only until Kagome mustered enough confidence and surety to open the door, did he gulp and his eyes widened.

Kagome could’ve cared less that they—“they” being her car and the other car—were practically parked in the middle of an uninhabited street. She would’ve tossed all caution to the wind if there were cars honking angrily behind and in front of them like mad dogs with rabies. All she wanted was to…

“Yo!”

A bundle of silver hair burst into view out of the murky depths of the limo. Like a missile, it shot out of the vehicle’s hood with a smile so devious, so wrongly radiant and…“fangy.” Eyes so amber, so fiery and molten, fired an icy bullet straight through the core of her soul and left her breathless, speechless as she gazed up at it with broad, disbelieving eyes that used to be capable of skimming through the most imaginative and the most whimsical of things.

Feeling her breath fall short and her chest clench at the abrupt dearth of air, Kagome took in a brief, wheezy breath and fainted.

Eri looked on in idle wonder and with eyes that glowed with an astonished light. With feeble hands, she unbuckled her seatbelt and crawled over to the edge of the driver’s seat, where she pushed open the door, thoughtless of the other car beside her. She observed the out-cold figure on the gravelly ground with parted lips and shock that was soon aimed at the occupants in the nearby limo, but more specifically the silver-haired guy with his head sticking out of the sunroof. She cooed childishly, “Oooooo. She’s so going to kill you when she wakes up.”

Next Chapter: Better Off