InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ How Naraku Stole Christmas ❯ Chapter 1
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Liesie 
Exactly what the title says, but a little bit on the AU side. Implied Sess/Kagu.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Children's / Comedy | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.07.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 381 | Visits: 531 | Status: Completed
Exactly what the title says, but a little bit on the AU side. Implied Sess/Kagu.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Children's / Comedy | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.07.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 381 | Visits: 531 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: Inuyasha isn't mine, but I did invent Christmas; if I had said "not it!" a second later than Jesus when we were still in heaven, you'd all be eating nachos and sleeping in on December 25th instead of giving eachother fruitcake and thinking about a newborn from 2,000 years ago.
And now we begin the tale of how Naraku stole Christmas.
In a dark room he lounged languidly on the couch, remaining slightly upright so that his Budweiser didn't spill down the front of his shirt. Again. He grabbed a fist of Doritos from a torn package on the floor and stretched his jaw to accomodate the oversized orange load, then sprayed umber flecks of chip all over the 17-inch TV before him as the announcer for a NASCAR race made a witty comment. The joke sailed way over Naraku's head, as it did to all the heads of NASCAR fans, but he still felt the urge to laugh.
"Hey, Kagura," he called, punctuating the address with a window-shattering belch, "ya finished stealing Christmas yet?"
The aforementioned wind sorceress looked up from her sizable task of hauling a thirteen-foot red sack through the garage door. "Not quite," she grunted.
When the overgrown spider had been struck with the brilliant notion of stealing Christmas from the humans in Edo for some unfathomable reason, she had naturally been charged with the whole caper. Now she was dragging the third bag of tinsel into the castle in subzero weather. In a silk kimono. Barefoot. On Christmas Eve. With a single plastic deer antler glued to her forehead.
"Well, hurry it up, would ya? They're about to interview that bastard Jeff Gordon."
Jeff Gordon rocks, Kagura thought as she gave the sack another tug. "I'll show you hurry. . ." she muttered among curses, threats, and lamentations about her missed Christmas date with Sesshomaru.
And now we begin the tale of how Naraku stole Christmas.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Actually, Naraku didn't do a damn thing.In a dark room he lounged languidly on the couch, remaining slightly upright so that his Budweiser didn't spill down the front of his shirt. Again. He grabbed a fist of Doritos from a torn package on the floor and stretched his jaw to accomodate the oversized orange load, then sprayed umber flecks of chip all over the 17-inch TV before him as the announcer for a NASCAR race made a witty comment. The joke sailed way over Naraku's head, as it did to all the heads of NASCAR fans, but he still felt the urge to laugh.
"Hey, Kagura," he called, punctuating the address with a window-shattering belch, "ya finished stealing Christmas yet?"
The aforementioned wind sorceress looked up from her sizable task of hauling a thirteen-foot red sack through the garage door. "Not quite," she grunted.
When the overgrown spider had been struck with the brilliant notion of stealing Christmas from the humans in Edo for some unfathomable reason, she had naturally been charged with the whole caper. Now she was dragging the third bag of tinsel into the castle in subzero weather. In a silk kimono. Barefoot. On Christmas Eve. With a single plastic deer antler glued to her forehead.
"Well, hurry it up, would ya? They're about to interview that bastard Jeff Gordon."
Jeff Gordon rocks, Kagura thought as she gave the sack another tug. "I'll show you hurry. . ." she muttered among curses, threats, and lamentations about her missed Christmas date with Sesshomaru.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And that, children, is how Naraku stole Christmas -- er, how Kagura stole Christmas. . . um, how Christmas was stolen. . . yeah, that'll work.