InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Enigma ❯ New Beginnings ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter 1: New Beginning

Something missing

Left behind

Search in circles

Every time I try

I've been here before

I've seen you before

I can't escape walking through these halls

Hard to find a place where there are no walls

And lines begging me to cross

Only straight ahead better move along

`my god he's not gonna like it…' he watched this big time producer listen to his “garage band” lyrics, his small time band's carefully practiced chords and notes, preciously timed and recorded on a cheap machine, just for this moment.

Like Clockwork

I commit the crime

I pretend to be

Everything they like

I've been here before

I've seen you before

And I trade everything for this

Why do I read the writing on the wall?

`He doesn't like it…' the dark haired teen shifted as the old man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes as he listened to the lyrics. Lyrics he had written and thought over for days, weeks. He lifted a hand to chew on his pinky nail, a nervous habit, one he was trying to break. But he could make an exception here.

I won't lose my place in line

I've been here too long and I've spent too much time…

I won't lose my place I line…

I've been here too long and I've spent too much time

Something missing

Left behind

Search in circles, every time I try…

Been here before…

I've seen you before

I can't escape walking down these halls

Hard to find a place where there are no walls

And no lines begging me to cross

Only straight ahead better move along

And I trade everything for this

Why do I read the writing on the wall?

Wall…

`He hates it, he does, like every other one' he felt his stomach give out when the producer sighed. Jesus he really didn't like it!

“I'm sorry for wasting your time sir—“

The old man waved his hand violently, scowling his thin lips, “don't call me sir, makes me feel my age. My name's Myoga, use it.”

He took that as a gleam of hope. If they're using such familiar terms with each other, does that mean that he might consider…?

“Um, sir, I mean Myoga,” the tall long haired teen blushed and coughed, trying not to fidget with his hands. The leather chair beneath him made a noise, and he blushed more. He's really screwing up… “Um, about the recording, um, what I mean to say is—“

Myoga held up an aged, liver spotted hand, taking a deep breath through his nose. The boy's hope died. The old man's black beady eyes bore into him, not a twitch of friendliness, not a sign that this had gone good. Behind him, the CD player whirred and spat out the CD he had brought on a tray. The fifteenth century western clock chimed.

Myoga relaxed his hand, bringing it down to fix his Louis Vuitton cufflinks. The boy's uniquely golden eyes followed every move absentmindedly, his mind too wrapped up in the thoughts of failure he was sure he was going to hear from this man any second.

“I'm not the youngest man in the world Mr. Kasumoto,” thick, manicured nails tapped lightly on the glass desk, “but…I am very opened minded. I've listened to all sorts of genres since I've opened my studio many years ago. I've gone through blues players, jazz artists, disco kings, 80's rock freaks, pop stars, Rap stars, the latest “hip hop princesses”, punk groups. You name it, I've seen it.”

“I…I'm sure you have sir-Myoga sir-myo…” he sighed and leaned his head back over the chair back, wishing to just sink away from this most embarrassing situation.

Myoga held in a smile. The boy held charm, though he was sure Mr. Kasumoto would be the last to admit he had `charm'. He held the classic punk style to his dress, his manner, though he must concede, the boy was…conservative with it. No flashy chains, outrageous tattoos, inhumane piercings, or atrocious make up. Always did find that a bit much, the make up thing. Wasn't becoming of a man, even if you are so called `dark'. No, Mr. Kasumoto kept it simple, almost stupid-simple, a most definite and assured way to present oneself. Simple beat up jeans, maroon wife beater, one big chain going from front to back, and a elegant string of rosary beads and animal teeth. Possibilities…

The man in the Italian three piece suit and Louis Vuitton cufflinks rose from his giant, comfy chair, smirking and waving the boy down in his hurry to rise with him. He was obviously taught manners somewhere along the line in his short life. Amiable trait.

But the man rose, taking precise, slow steps around his desk, every paper and pen organized to almost obsessed like quality. His alligator loafers stalked lightly over plush carpet of deep navy, making his way to the CD player across the room in his own time. The boy in the chair squirmed quite uncomfortably. It was a very amusing game, but tedious and time consuming. No matter how much he loved to keep the young ones on their toes.

The boy being played with was a bundle of nerves. This hot shot was obviously taking his time telling him that he and the band was no good, get out, never come back you lousy piece of trailer trash. Wait wait…that was him talking, not the man. Why doesn't he say anything? Any other producer would have called security by now if he had lingered this long. This bastard enjoyed watching him squirm around like a caught rabbit didn't he? God how he hated that! They toy with you, get your hopes up, do all this other shit and then kick you to the curb. Sigh…the boys were losing hope, which they were.

“Mr. Kasumoto?”

he raised his head. The man was giving him a worried look, spinning that CD in his hand. Must have been talking and he didn't realize it. Damn his attention span…”yes?”

“I was wondering Mr. Kasumoto, or may I call you Inuyasha?”

“Which ever you'd like s-…uh, Myoga,” he replied.

Myoga nodded, tapped the disc lightly and leaned on the player table. He tugged on a bit of white mustache with the hand not holding the CD. “Well, Inuyasha…how long have you and your band been playing?”

“Uh well,” Inuyasha sat up in his seat, trying to control his bouncing knee, “my cousin, Shippou, he's been playing drums since he first laid eyes on a set at seven. The lead guitar, Kouga, was practically born playing, his father really wanted him to play a `manly' instrument, you know?”

“Yes yes…heard many cases of that…and the bass…er, his name again?”

“Miroku,” the old man nodded in approval, “we've been buddies since I could remember, and we kinda learned together how to play. So if Kouga's not available I can play bass, and Miroku fills in for Kouga.”

“Convenient yes?” Myoga chuckled when Inuyasha nodded a bit eagerly. He tugged on the mustache again. Such potential…be a crime to waste…

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“Okay he's taking too long, I'm going up there.”

“Cool your damn jets Kouga, I'm sure he's doing just fine.”

The said boy paused in his pacing of the cool marble lobby, his electric eye flicking over to the shiny silver elevator doors. He growled and his pacing continued.

Another boy sat, his hands poised between his knees as he sat slouched. Navy, almost violet eyes followed his fellow's path as he went back and forth…back and forth…back and forth…”god damn it Kouga, sit down!”

“Please do, you're making me dizzy,” a red head spoke softly, boredom driving him to pick and clean his nails. Kouga's raven ponytail whipped about his face as his head snapped the red head's way. The red head merely raised a cocky brow and pointed to the gawking woman at the desk, “and…you're becoming a spectacle.”

Kouga blushed not only in embarrassment but irritation, plopping down into one of the uncomfortable lobby sofas. He crossed his arms and huffed, earning a smirk from the red head. The other sighed and ran a hand through his stylishly short pony tailed hair, musing his bangs. The lobby became quiet with Kouga's fuming attitude, the air tense if not conflicting among the youths.

They're biggest fear right now? That those elevator doors were gonna open, and their leader was going to be the gloomiest they've ever seen. This was his dream, all of theirs.

The elevator dinged, a dim white lights going off before the doors opened. They stood and stretched necks to see. Then sat back down. Some guy in a suit…how boring.

The violet eyed bass player groaned lightly, flopping back down into his seat. His turned his head towards the woman at the desk, and grinned to find her bright eyes on him, her young face blushing, knowing she had been caught. He flashed her a winning smile and she giggled. Too bad that desk was in the way…looked like she had a pair of legs on her…he wondered how round her hips were…was she ticklish…most likely, with the way she was moving she was crossing her legs, and most sensitive tickling spots…

“ow!” he jumped when Kouga gave him a good kick, only find himself in a most awkward position. Must have been trying to look past the desk…

“Come on,” the red head got up clumsily, stumbling a bit, “I heard it ding.”

“Could be another suit,” Kouga snorted.

“Nah, it's him, no body walks as slow as him when he wants to.”

The three band members got up, sneakers and two pairs of boots thumping and slapping as they made their way to the elevators. Dark, onyx walls reflected their doubles back at them as they walked, the jingle of pocket change coming from one of them. They turned the corner and stopped.

There stood their leader, frozen in utter shock and disbelief. He clutched a piece of paper in his right fist, and he was taking very controlled breaths. The red head took a step towards him.

“Inuyasha?” the dark haired boy turned his head his way, and his cousin resisted biting his lip, “Inuyasha, are you okay?”

Inuyasha tried to talk, but no words came. Hs jaw worked, but he uttered not a sound. He looked shattered almost. The bass player cursed under his breath. Just as they feared. Kouga wasn't so considerate with his cursing, and let some free for all to hear. Shippou shook his head.

“We…” Inuyasha finally choked out, and the band looked to him expectantly, “we come back for a contract signing in a week…”

The rest of the group took on the expression he once wore. Inuyasha grinned slowly, letting his chest constrict in sort laughs, spasms of joy. One by one, the band slowly reanimated themselves. Shippou was first, he pointed a finger at his cousin, smiling slowly and trying to call him a name as he waved the finger at Inuyasha, his smile growing till it was a full blown grin.

“You…you son of a bitch…you son of a--!” in his elation, Shippou whooped, and as it echoed about the lobby, he threw himself at the still shocked boy, wringing him about in a head lock, laughing. Kouga next came to, shouting out his joy and whispering a thank you to the heavens. He ran and proceeded to help Shippou bring down Inuyasha in the moment of joy. Amongst the laughing, the name calling, the jubilant cursing, they heard a howl, and looked up in time to see the bass player Miroku plow into the group, to complete the mass of happy and ecstatic teens. They had done it. They were gonna be stars.

They were gonna be stars!

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In a panic of fear and blood, she slammed her door shut, hoping that her brother too had made it to his room and locked the damn door. Panting generously, she hurried and slammed her weight on the door, waiting for the impact of his. It did, almost knocking her clear across the room. But she got back up, and used her body to barricade the door, anchoring each hand on either side of the door frame and jamming her feet into the floor.

Against her, the wooden door jostled and jolted, banging frantically and shaking her horribly. The names she heard, the pure rage in his voice…every time…

She screamed as the banging continued, using whatever she had to keep that door closed. If it were to open…oh if it were to open. Her limbs shook in her effort, she wouldn't hold out much longer! Jesus Christ why was this happening?! Why was it her?!

It stopped. The banging, the pounding in her door, it stopped. He had stopped for the night. She sighed, her throat raspy and lungs gasping. Her heart pounded as she listened to his retreating foot steps. Would he go to Souta? Damn it boy, lock your door…

No, they were going downstairs…he was going downstairs, to drink himself to sleep. Her breath left her in a whoosh, the tears she always held in while he hit her slipping by. She slid down the door to her bottom, bringing her limbs closer to her body. She closed dark eyes, clasping her thin hands as she licked dried, cut lips. He was gone…he was gone for the night…thank you god thank you…

She opened her eyes again, landing upon what was the only thing that kept her alive. She clenched her teeth, though it hurt to do so with her bruised jaw.

It would be another sleepless night.

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Just an intro chap. I wasn't too sure on how to start this, so you get this crap instead ^_^

Don't ask me why im doing this now, just to get it off my chest. Im not sure if any updates will be happening soon, I have many family problems to work out. Something has happened, and im very distressed, so I thought this would be good as a bit of a relief from all this shit. Enjoy what you can.