InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Laying Down the Law: Abuna i Dansu ❯ Peabody ( Chapter 13 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Well, I guess you all deserve an explanation and I'm going to make it as simply as possible:

KOLU+college boyfriend= biggest most awful fucktastic thing that has ever happened.

I will never let boys come between me and my beloved writing ever again. When I told him about this story and he snorted, that should've been my first clue.

We're 1200 miles away at different colleges now, so everything will be a-ok. I know most of you have probably moved on with your lives, but if for some reason you still have it in you to read this, I love you desperately. If you're new on bored, enjoy yourselves. It's like you won't even have to wait for this chapter because you just started reading!

I've been stewing over this chapter for, like, more than a year. So....gitterdone.

Tobi Skull stared at the ceiling, mapping the contours and edges of the plaster. It was four on a Monday morning and his eyes had yet to close, despite Bones's even breathing in the bed across the room; troubles nagged at his mind, troubles in Kyoto, troubles with his family, troubles with everything he could possibly imagine. He was the upbeat leader, the more spunky of the two Jackrabbit kings, and he felt it was his duty to continue his optimism, despite the negativity poisoning his senses. He couldn't be sad, not even for a moment, for it would dishearten more people than just him. In retrospect, he'd lost the most important thing in his life: his gang. Bones and Kina were important to him, of course, as were his other friends and their safety, but nothing could compare to the beach house in Kyoto, waves lapping quietly and birds singing in the early morning as their wings skimmed the water.

His heart ached at the very thought of home.

A door opened quietly downstairs and Skull blinked, glancing out to the hallway and wondering if this could mean the arrival of the girls; they'd been gone for these three long days and he had to admit that he missed them mightily. The blonde rose quietly from his bed, being careful to tip toe out the door and down the stairs. The marble was cold on his bare feet as he skittered across the floor, hugging his bare arms to his chest as he braced himself against the chilly outside wind; the kitchen door was open. Hushed voices confirmed his suspicions and he entered the kitchen, smiling warmly as a haggard looking Kagome and Rin stumbled inside.

"Welcome home, ladies," he greeted softly, blue eyes bright with happiness.

Kagome looked up through her own hazy eyes and managed a smile in return, honestly glad to see her friend but almost too tired to acknowledge the fact. Rin waved pitifully, rubbing her eyes like a small child as she dropped her duffle bag on the kitchen floor.

"Hey Skull," Kagome finally replied, pulling him into a hug and practically collapsing into his hold. Her very bones ached from the stress of traveling through the night and she could feel her eyelids begging to close for a good night's sleep. She might be forced to take the following day off from school just to recover. Kagome and her friends had worked on the house and yard right up until midnight when they'd left and she was almost dead from it, as were the others; the house was in much better shape than when they'd left and, thankfully, her family had been able to move back into the mainhouse from the shrine hut. Though parting from her mother had been difficult, Kagome was glad to be back in Tokyo. She was beginning to think of this ridiculous mansion as home anyway.

"Get some work done?" Skull asked as Rin moved to find a soda in the fridge.

"Yeah, it went really well. My parents seemed not to care that all of my friends are scary looking," Kagome half joked, taking a seat at the table. As an afterthought, she murmured, "Though I did learn something while I was there...do you know a kid named Souta?"

Skull's mind immediately found the skinny teenager, his fastest runner and one of his most loyal followers. He loved the boy, honestly, and the thought of him brought up that familiar aching hurt; what he wouldn't give to see his men again. Though his blue eyes saddened considerably, he answered easily, "One of my runners. Did you find him out there?"

Kagome smiled slightly; so Skull hadn't known about their relation after all. She'd wondered if the Jackrabbit had kept the fact from her or simply hadn't been aware; it was apparently the latter. "You could say that. He's sort of my brother."

Skull's eyes expanded to the size of dinner plates and he plopped down uselessly at the table, mouth agape; Kagome nearly laughed at his face. The boy ran a hand through his unruly blonde hair, muttering crazily, "Brother? Higurashi? Oh my God. The chief of police's son, in my gang, running around, carrying valuable information, in danger almost constantly. I'm an asshole."

Rin snorted, shutting the refrigerator door with her hip as she drank straight from a two liter bottle of Coke. "There's no way you could've known, Skull. And besides, Souta would never rat; you're safe."

"Not what I was worried about," Skull said hurriedly shaking his hands. "I just...damn, I didn't even have a clue. It's normal not to know last names, I just never even thought..." He trailed off, looking slightly lost and disappointed, perhaps in himself.

"Don't worry, Skull, he's the same kid," Kagome reasoned, smiling peacefully. "I'm proud of him, even. You should call him; he and some of the other boys are trying to put themselves back together."

There was a brief silence before Skull chuckled and closed his eyes. "I knew they would; only a matter of time. I'll give him a call for sure; great kid."

"Sure is," Rin agreed, taking another awkward swig from the enormous bottle.

Kagome leaned back in her chair and threw an arm over her face, enjoying the darkness; she felt as though these past few days had been but a blur of light. Though cloudy, rank and depressing, Kyoto had seemed so bright to her, as though she could see everything too clearly. She'd grown up on that street, she knew those people, she remembered how many steps it took to get to the corner store; how could everything she'd known, her memories, her love, be reduced to rubble just like that? Why did she feel so terrible despite the fact that her house was in considerably better shape? She just wanted to feel happy again.

"Alright, love?" Skull asked after a moment, smiling as best he could. There he went, trying to be cheerful again. It just wasn't working like he wanted it to.

Kagome glanced up at the voice, nodding her head slightly. "Just tired," she lied, not wanting to burden him. Adding her sorrow on top of his just seemed cruel. "I'm gonna go on up to bed; don't wake me up tomorrow. I'm not gonna do the school thing...not after that." And with this, she stood and shouldered her bag, exiting the kitchen and trudging up the stairs. Rin and Skull watched her go, listening to her soft, weary footsteps as they ascended the steps and disappeared into her bedroom. The door closed quietly behind her.

Skull glanced at Rin, eyes skeptical. "That bad?" he asked hesitantly.

Rin huffed slightly. "Worse. I don't know how she's standing. I should probably get up to bed too; I might end up skipping out too, but I bet Sesshie would yell at me. Night, Tobi."

Skull smiled again, watching Rin put the Coke bottle back in the refrigerator before collecting her things and heading up to her own room. As he sat alone in the kitchen, Skull began to hate. He hated the man who'd fired the shot, he hated Kyoto, he hated Tokyo, he hated everything and everyone he knew; everything was ruined. He just wanted it to be the way it had been those few weeks ago. He wanted normality and happiness like before. But it was never going to happen. Not now.

MIroku expected to wake up the day after his late night car trip feeling worn and slightly haggard; the last thing he expected was a headache, congestion and fever to go with his fatigue. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, a nauseous feeling enveloped him and he swayed slightly, clapping a hand to his throbbing head; he could feel his heart beating in his temples. With a confused groan, he glanced down at his own feet and felt the strongest urge to be sick. If it weren't for the stifling thickness in his head, he might've very well lost whatever contents inhabited his stomach.

"Master Hoshi? You'll be late for school, sir."

The maid's voice wafted in from the hallway and Miroku glanced blearily up, opening his mouth to call out; the only thing that came out was a bitter, wretched cough. The door cracked open and the maid hurried inside, finding her Master close to retching at his bedside; she arrived with the trash can just in time.

Gan awoke that morning to the sound of her cellphone dancing across the kitchen table. She'd fallen asleep atop her physics book and now found herself peeling her face off of the cardinal laws page. She sighed heavily, willing her eyelids to open as she reached for the phone.

"Hello?'

"Gan, it's Miroku. I'm sick; I need help...or something. That sounded a little gay."

As the immediacy of Miroku's problem entered Gan's subconscious, she slowly began to awake, manually prying open her eyes and shaking her head terribly. "Sick? What kind of sick?" She rubbed a hand along her face, trying to categorize her thoughts into necessary and unnecessary. School=unnecessary. Miroku's health=necessary. Though it pained of her to think of school so dismissively, she was attached to the idea of her friends' well being. She had a feeling that Miroku wasn't sick very often and, if memory served correctly, Inuyasha was absolutely abhorrent when Miroku wasn't around. Kagome was also mad when Inuyasha wasn't in a good mood and, bingo, Gan's day was ruined. I'm a terrible friend; I'm so self interested it's practically a sin. Send me to confession.

Miroku's reply to Gan's question was not immediate. "Well, I'm sore."

Gan hesitated. "Sore?"

"And congested. And my head sort of hurts...and I threw up."

Gan sighed, cursing under her breath; flu season. How she hated it. "Alright, Miroku, just sit tight and I'll be there soon. Can I have your address?"

Miroku coughed wretchedly. "250 Yokisama Court."

Gan's eyebrows flew up and she found her normally nimble mind oddly blank; the most expensive street in town. As she murmured, "Be right there," and ended the phone call, Gan mentally chastised herself for forgetting the important factor of Miroku's wealth; his father was, after all, a mob boss. She should've remembered, but there was simply so much to think about these days that even her  mind was becoming exhausted. As she threw her legs over the side of the bed and tightened her robe, Gan shook her blonde head and groaned. This was probably going to be one of those days.

Gan gathered her things and pattered off towards her personal quarters, mind skittering about in seventeen different directions; she needed to complete her physics homework, check on Miroku, do Shark finances and speak with the Kyudo archery instructor at school about pre-season training, not necessarily in that order. As she began dissecting physics problems in her head, Gan tripped unceremoniously on a text book and nearly fell. As she looked back towards the odd text book, which was simply laying in the middle of the floor, she felt her breath catch in her throat; Akago was asleep on the couch.

She tiptoed towards him, captivated by the sight; he truly was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Pale, perfect skin, lips which were simple but masculine in some strange way; his hair was like spun snow, his eyelashes long and curvaceous...for some reason she wanted to touch his face. She kneeled down beside the couch, listening to his slow and even breathing, and keeping her eyes carefully trained on his hands should he awake suddenly; he could kill her with one blow, she knew, if the timing was right. His pale, butterfly-catcher's hands were twitching ever so slightly, arranged in a strange position, and Gan nearly laughed as she realized that he was playing the violin in his dreams. Charming.

Gan remembered herself abruptly, blushing at the thoughts which had so invasively entered her mind. With one quick decision, she reached out her hand and knocked slightly on his chest; Akago stirred.

His crimson eyes opened slowly, registering the fact that he was, indeed, at home and surrounded by the scent of the woman he loved. Er, liked. Um...respected. There, that sounded better. Gan was hovering over him, golden hair catching the morning sunlight ever so.

Morning sunlight...crap.

"What time is it?" Akago asked suddenly, sitting upright and looking around bewilderedly.

Gan smiled at his startled nature. "7:30, school doesn't start for another hour and a half."

Akago relaxed visibly and smiled at his mistake, returning his attention to Gan; she was so beautiful he couldn't even breathe. Gan seemed not to notice his staring and returned to her morning preparations, hurrying to her room and shuffling around as she prepared for her impromptu journey to Miroku's mansion. Soon enough, a sleepy looking Halloween came loping out of the bunk room, rubbing his eyes and yawning like a kitten. Akago smiled and poured Halloween a glass of orange juice, as per usual.

"Good Morning, Halloween," he said warmly, smiling at the boy.

"Toumoku," Halloween yawned in reply, slumping over on the counter as he stared at the orange juice lifelessly.

For a moment, Akago pondered Halloween's less than excited face and mulled over the strangeness of it; no matter what the hour, Halloween was always cheerful. Furthermore, he tended to awaken early on weekdays to make breakfast; today was apparently apart from the others.

"Are you alright, Halloween?" Akago asked. "You look exhausted."

Before Halloween could answer, Gan came rushing out in her school uniform, carrying her school bag in one hand and her medical satchel in the other. "Got to go, Miroku's feeling poor, but see you at school?" she called dismissively to Akago, smiling briefly before she whisked out the door. Halloween watched his Toumoku's eyes glaze over at the sight of his one true love and the orange-eyed demon couldn't help but giggle; it was all so romantic, especially for those two.

"Kijo is so pretty," Halloween purred, eyes glittering with delight.

Akago didn't respond for a moment. Finally, he placed the orange juice carton carefully back in the refrigerator and replied placidly, "Yes she is. Now, do you feel alright?"

Halloween frowned, pouting slightly. "I could barely sleep all night, Toumoku!"

"Why?" Akago asked curiously.

"Because all I could do was think about Lysander!" Halloween replied resolutely, pounding his fist on the table; he was now pouting full on, eyebrows furrowed and everything. "It's not fair, Toumoku! He's positively lovely and he'll never love me back! He's just too perfect!"

For the second time that week, Akago found himself stunned by one of Halloween's unprefaced homosexual admissions. The Shark leader consequently dropped his glass and watched it surreptitiously land in a sink full of soap water. Though the glass didn't break, Akago was subsequently soaked. As he toweled himself off and glanced over at Halloween, the white haired man muttered, "Sorry, a bit surprised there. Who did you say?"

"Lysander," Halloween replied, twirling his finger around in his orange juice morosely. "He's absolutely divine."

It took Akago a few moments to register the fact that Halloween was talking about Lysander Macharyas, son of the Yakuza business mogul and twin of Gan's most bitter enemy; the lion demon hadn't even come to Akago's mind at first. Akago was unaware that Lysander was gay and, if he was, it seemed doubtful that he and Halloween would've even met; the redhead had only been in town for a month or so and Halloween had only been at the one meeting concerning Kagome's house in Kyoto. While Akago was busy musing over the idea of his soldier and Lysander Macharyas dating, the orange-eyed demon continued his child-like babbling.

"...and he's funny and really nice! And absolutely gorgeous, besides that. It's maddening!" At this point, Halloween actually released a whimper and Akago sighed at the pitiful sound.

"Halloween, I don't know anything about Lysander's sexual orientation but I wouldn't encourage any forthright movements from your end. It would simply harm you, I think." The Shark leader reached into the cupboard and withdrew a box of cheerios, pouring them into a bowl and staring at the o's as they collided below; just like his life. Congratulations on your nonsensical metaphor, Akago. Now we're all going mad and not just over our gay lovers.

Halloween looked pleasantly puzzled over Akago's insinuation. "Oh, you don't think he's...gay? Is that the word you used?"

"Yes, gay," Akago replied patiently, pouring Halloween a bowl of cheerios as well; the boy was far too skinny.

Halloween thought for a moment, black hair like silk before his eyes, until he seemed to come to an answer. "Well, I'm not worried. He's gay."

"You're so sure?" Akago asked, unconvinced.

Halloween grinned. "Oh yes!"

Akago frowned but kept his thoughts to himself; somehow, he doubted that a man put in Lysander's social position could admit to anyone, especially himself, that he was possibly homosexual. Akago was very supportive of the movement and all that, but he knew there were still restrictions in the modern world and being gay would always be difficult. It was bad enough that Halloween was gay and gullible; Akago didn't want to imagine gay and in danger.

To prevent himself from saying something hurtful, Akago excused himself and began getting ready for school,  glancing over his shoulder at his daydreaming soldier. Halloween's eyes were still wide and dream-like, wrapped up in thoughts of his beautiful Lysander Macharyas. Akago just hoped it didn't break his heart.

Bankotsu stared at the doors to the theater, large and imposing, square, dark, everything he was not; the smallest Hiashi brother reshouldered his bag and shifted his wide shoulders in the confining starch white of his shirt. He was so uncomfortable at the mere sight of the theater, he couldn't imagine what weeks worth of time spent here might do to him. His reputation, his pride, so many other things that he couldn't sacrifice...what was he going to do with himself? What was his men say? His brothers? His friends? Bankotsu sighed and ran a hand over his silken black head; this was impossible to negotiate and he knew it, but surely there was some way out of this, the seventh circle of hell: auditions.

"Hey!"

THe boy nearly jumped out of his skin as the little voice arrived at his right. Mizumi seemed startled by Bankotsu's surprise and leapt a little as he turned, eyes wide. She looked pretty today, he noticed, though she looked pretty every day. It was just the turn of her eyes today, trained upon him, that made her so pleasing to his vision; he was an arrogant man and unembarrassed by the fact.

"Hey," he replied, calming himself; the frown returned. "Just...getting ready to go in."

Mizumi stifled a smile and replied rather seriously, "It'll be hard, I know, but you're a trooper." Her crimson eyes were dancing with humor as she twirled a green curl around her finger. Bankotsu's mouth went dry; she'd worn her hair down. That's why she looked so pretty.

"Yeah, I'm pretty tough," he recovered, clearing his throat. He stared at the door, anxiety filling him. "I just...I'm just out of my element. Like, not in a bragging way, but I'm good at stuff. I'm a good mechanic and a good athlete and stuff like that, I'm just not a singer or a dancer or an actor. And I don't want to look stupid."

Mizumi felt sympathy flood her and she glanced up at the boy, handsome face contorted with worry. She set her little mouth and decided to be brave for him. "Well, I bet you'll do great. I'll sit in the audience, okay? Just look at me the whole time."

Bankotsu, however comforted by the though, was also slightly apprehensive. She was the one person he would most hate to look stupid in front of. "You don't have to, I don't want to make you watch this."

"No, no, really! It'll make you feel better," Mizumi insisted, placing both of her hands on his back and pushing. "Here we go!"

Bankotsu gulped and allowed the little girl to maneuver him inside where the stage was illuminated in a glowing yellow light. Bankotsu's demon eyes could make out roughly 4 people inside, combined with several scents that he was quite familiar with; the husky Macharyas musk was present, in two counts; it seemed as though the twins had turned out. He vaguely remembered the scent of Poly-sensei, that weird blue-headed dance teacher, and a second scent that was easily relatable to hers. Siblings, maybe? Bankotsu wasn't sure, but he was ever-aware of the little, perfect hands on the small of his back. His mouth was a desert.

"Ah, my delinquent," came a dry voice, belonging to a young blue-haired man with wry pink eyes. The man was carrying a clipboard, which lead Bankotsu to identify him as the director. The strange man looked awfully young, but the arrangement of his face left little doubt as to his relationship to Poly-sensei.

Mizumi stopped pushing and allowed her own eyes to adjust, now able to see her dance instructor and the Macharyas twins in the front row. The theater was dusty and poorly taken care of, though the girl could hardly see South Tokyo High as a bastion for musical expression; it was probably frowned upon, if anything. Frowning, Mizumi found herself hiding slightly behind Bankotsu's larger frame; Fennella and Lysander were here, which meant that they would notice Ryuukoytsusei's sister and the leader of the Cobras interacting. Dangerous. Crap, she hadn't thought this far ahead.

Bankotsu seemed unconcerned and only continued walking forward, clearing his throat and replying to his teacher, "Yes sir, I'm Bankotsu Hiashi."

The blue-haired man sighed, a sound which came out as a near groan, and barked, "I know who you are, take a seat." Turning restlessly, he muttered loudly to himself, "Good job she says, interested kids she says. 4 fucking kids show up and they want a show. Damn Tokyo arrogance..."

Poly-sensei cleared her own throat and her brother seemed to remembered himself. Gathering his wits about him, the director addressed the small audience strongly. "I'm Apollo Pierre, your new theater director. I think you all know my sister, Polyhymnia. We'll be putting on what is sure to be a rag-tag version of Singing in the Rain. I'm not very patient or very nice, so don't screw with me; do your best. Let's see what you've got Lysander."

Bankotsu and Mizumi unsurely took seats beside Fennella, who nodded at her friends without seeming to notice something amiss in their company. The Cobra and Dragon exchanged uneasy glances, feeling as though they couldn't even touch or even breathe. What if Fennella or Lysander was offended by them? Lysander, however, seemed not to care about anything but the stage and leapt to his feet when Apollo called his name, mounting the stage confidently. Lysander gave the impression of someone who'd done this many times before and Bankotsu squinted slightly; he knew Lysander was a musician, but how far could that possibly carry him into theater?

"What will you be singing?" Apollo asked lazily, voice belaying his dread about this whole affair.

Lysander seemed not to notice the director's tone and replied calmly, "Singing in the Rain, sir."

"Alright then, whenever you're ready," the man replied, looking to the piano player fiddling with his glasses in the corner.

The player gave a jittery nod and adjusted himself, blinking at the music as his hands began tinkling on the ivory keys. When Lysander opened his mouth to sing, Mizumi and Poly looked politely interested while Fennella looked smug and Bankotsu looked skeptical. The sound that Lysander produced stunned them all; his voice was a smooth and charming tenor, with a pleasant amount of vibrato that warmed the ear drums of everyone present. Bankotsu gulped slightly, glancing sideways at Mizumi. The girl met his eyes and shrugged helplessly; she couldn't help Bankotsu this time.  The sound of Lysander's voice had an almost opiate quality to it; the auditorium was silent.

When Lysander finished with one last brilliant note, Apollo simply continued to stare at him until the piano player cleared his throat. "Right, very good," Apollo said gruffly, snapping back to life at a moment's notice. "Let's have our next contestant, please."

Fennella's fantastic, belting soprano didn't do much for Bankotsu's confidence either.

Mizumi sighed as she surveyed the boy's terrified face. This was going to be a long ordeal.

Kagome breathed in a deep sigh of chilly air and gently brushed a stray leaf from her face; since she'd laid down underneath the oaks in the courtyard twenty minutes ago, the tree had decided to give way to autumn right on her face. Kagome's day had been uneventful at best and she was hardly determined to make something of it. It was all too much work...she was simply exhausted.

"You look about as excited as I feel," came a familiar approaching voice.

Kagome laughed shortly, smiling as Inuyasha collapsed beside her on the grass; he smelled familiar and comforting, like a house that followed her on two legs. He was smiling faintly, faint like the happiness she'd known so briefly that summer. Everything now was filled with complications. Kagome reached up a hand and absentmindedly twisted a wayward white lock around her finger.

"I'm fucking pumped," she joked, allowing a rarely used profanity.

Inuyasha laughed, a sound which never failed to send warm blood through Kagome's veins. He clasped her outstretched hand in his and kissed her knuckle. "Yeah, well we're all just glad to be here. Miroku has the flu, you know."

Kagome made a face. "Ugh, the flu sucks. Did he go to a doctor?"

"Gan paid him a house call this morning, said he was pretty much right in all the flu stuff. Don't know where he got it," Inuyasha mused, looking thoughtful. He wasn't generally well versed on human diseases, but he was fairly certain that they passed from one human to another. According to old examples, like the Spanish Influenza and things like that, didn't several humans get sick at once?

But Kagome just shrugged it off. "He could've gotten it from a handrail, Inuyasha, diseases are everywhere."

Inuyasha shuddered. "That's disgusting. Glad I can't catch any of that shit."

This only made Kagome laugh as Inuyasha absently began running his hands through her glossy hair, laid out on the grassy floor. The two sat in silence for some time before the hanyou decided to do something he rarely did: share a personal conflict with his girlfriend.

"Can I ask your opinion on something?" he asked quietly, sounding earnest, if not embarrassed.

Kagome's eyes grew wide almost instantaneously; it was rare that Inuyasha asked her opinion on anything besides cars and that was almost never. But their interactions lately had been lifeless, dull, devoid of the passion she remembered from that brilliant summer. If only in a desperate attempt to mend the bridges she'd allowed to crumble, Kagome smiled up at her boyfriend.

"Sure, Inuyasha. Ask me anything."

Inuyasha smiled fleetingly in return and then took in a small but nervous breath. "So, I've been thinking lately. About...things. And not normal things either. I mean, about things that...I'm not good at."

Kagome listened silently, trying to unravel Inuyasha's tangled words; he was being hopelessly vague, but she only hoped that he could finally open up to her. Unfortunately, when he was done, it would be her turn. She would simply have to bear it.

Realizing that Kagome's pensive brown stare meant that she was listening unequivocally, Inuyasha continued. "I...know there's a lot I don't tell you about a lot of shit. And I wanted you to know that it's not because I don't trust you or don't want you to know. It's just because...I don't want you to have all that extra crap on top of your own crap. We all got problems and I know you're...sympathetic. I don't want you to take my problems on yourself. That's why."

Kagome felt the words crack open her chest and hit her heart with the weight of the planet Earth. He was trying to apologize for causing her worry. And all this time she'd thought her hurting had escaped his notice. By this time, Inuyasha was aware that Kagome's facial expression had morphed from pensive to stricken in four seconds flat, but he was unwilling to stop there. He had so much to say. He opened his mouth to speak and felt the outside air rush in, tickling his fangs and the cavities of his mouth. But no words flowed forth. Only air.

Seizing the opportunity, Kagome sat up and reached her hands forward, capturing Inuyasha's face in her palms. She forced him to look into her eyes, in all their muddy brown mess, trying to ignore the helplessness lingering in his own. "Inuyasha, I love you anyway."

His gaze was undefinable. He wondered briefly if he was confused but decided that must not be it; he was sure about Kagome that he couldn't actually pick up on any of his other feelings. It was controlling, completely and totally. Finally, he just mumbled, "I love you too, love you anyway...even though I suck."

Kagome laughed sort of, though Inuyasha reckoned it actually sounded close to tears. He didn't know enough about crying to tell.


Fennella was having an absolutely terrible day. Not only did her shattered hand ache terrible inside its makeshift cast, but it had caused all sorts of conundrums since the minute she woke up. First, she'd spilled her coffee on her shoes, which were now slightly brown. Second, she'd nearly been in a head on collision with Mad Max on her motorcycle as she pulled into the school parking lot (the bastard should give her a break; he could take his "fuckings" and just shove them up his...well, you know.) And now, thirdly, she found herself unable to open her locker. With her dominant hand out of commission, she was forced to use her slightly less capable hand to do things like writing and using a fork. That was all well and good, if not a bit awkward, but opening her jammed locker was another thing. Using one's non-dominant hand is akin to walking after awaking from a coma: nothing feels quite right about it.

"Dammit!" she screamed, red hair whirling like a hurricane as she performed a flouncy, angry foot shuffle. "Why me?!" With an aggravated roar she threw her book bag down on the ground with a resounding thump and started yanking violently at the door, unembarrassed by her passion; it was already 4:30 and there was no one left in the hallways anyway. She might as well just let it all out. Not only had her audition for the musical barely brought a twitch to the director's face, but she was fairly certain that she wasn't lead material anyway. She might have the voice of an angel, but she was athletic and large, quite unlike the original lead in Singin' in the Rain. She might as well throw in the towel and watch her brother skip across the stage to win 5,000 more awards because it was back to the mediocrity bin with her. Fennella Macharyas: nothing special.

"FUCK!"

Energy practically drained out of her as Fennella registered the futility of her struggle; she was pretty sure the laces of her pointe shoes had gotten trapped in the door hinge and it was all pointless now. She and her broken hand and her stupid dreams of being equal, at least, to her brother were the same: shattered.

Just as she slid down ground beside her book bag and began pounding uselessly at the linoleum in a slow, driving rhythm, a pair of heavy footsteps drew her attention to the end of the hallway.

A large, imposing figure was strolling leisurely towards her, legs strong and thick. She followed the legs up to a strong chest and even farther to a ruggedly handsome but slightly scarred face. Kobu Piazzola.

Kobu seemed unshaken by her strange display of emotion, which she was only now beginning to register, and only continued his slow and purposeful walk until her arrived at her fallen form; he seemed oddly unafraid to meet her eyes. Fennella stared at him, face a mixture of horror and curiosity, until he grinned and crouched beside her. His black ponytail was even darker than Miroku or Ranbou's hair. It was so pitch black it was almost frightening.

"Can't get your locker open, stud?"

Though it was clearly meant as a light tease, Fennella scowled and hissed like a threatened cat. "Fuck you, Piazzola, I'm stronger than 10 of you."

Kobu's experience with Fennella was very limited, maybe even to the point where they'd never spoken a word. He couldn't be sure, as there were many beautiful women at South Tokyo High and he could barely keep them straight, but he liked to think he would've remembered a conversation with this girl. Everyone knew her: Ayame's brash second with the flaming red hair and bull-stupid athleticism. He'd witnessed Fennella attempting to break up a drug deal the previous year; it had been the dead of winter and the docks were covered in snow even whiter than the 20 lbs. of cocaine being so secretly passed from hand to hand. Gan the Gun had stepped up to fight her, as usual, but Kobu could still remember the way her red curls mixed with the falling snowflakes. The color contrast had been so startling and raw, the only distraction until her blood stained the pearly snow a brash crimson; his feeling then had been the bitterest of triumphs.

"Hey, never said you weren't," Kobu said calmly, smiling disarmingly as he rose to his feet and gave her locker a sharp tug. The door flew open and one of the hinges fell slightly to the side, causing even Fennella's eyes to widen. Kobu looked a bit embarrassed and murmured apologetically, "Sorry, I'm kinda like a bull in a China shop, if ya know what I mean."

After an awkward silence, Kobu reached down his hand and Fennella took it automatically with her right, wincing as she remembered her injury. Kobu blinked but tried not to let out a wince himself; for a demon to deserve a cast, the injury must be pretty heinous. Fennella was heavier than he thought she'd be when he pulled her to her feet; he could see almost every muscle in her legs as she stood.

"Thanks, I guess," Fennella said quietly, not daring to meet eyes with her would-be knight in shining armor. Somehow, the fairytale didn't usually involve the arrival of her enemy's errand boy.

Kobu seemed to find her gratitude feigned, but only snorted; he wasn't completely stupid when it came to social hints and her discomfort around him was obvious. Dragons and Wildcats never mixed and for good reason.

"Don't worry about it," the boy mumbled, reshouldering his bag and turning to leave as his ink-black ponytail dripped like silk over the white of his dress shirt.

Fennella was, for some reason, trying to calculate a reason to call him back; she couldn't say precisely why, but she wanted to speak with him. What were they going to speak about? She wasn't sure. And why did she give a damn anyway? She wasn't sure about that either. But one thing was certain: he was the first pot of gold at the end of her wobbly rainbow of a day.

Fortunately, the lioness found herself beat to the punch. Kobu turned slightly over his shoulder, watching as the enigmatic redhead seemed to wrestle with her thoughts.

"Hey."

Fennella whipped her head around to face the deep, soothing voice; it reminded her of the ocean floor, as though no one had ventured as far to hear it. She felt so startled by the intensity of the sound that she dropped everything she was holding: a pencil, a journal and a bottle of pain pills.

"Yeah, what?" she demanded harshly, baring her fangs slightly as she tried to make up for her transgression, bending to collect her items. Kobu bit back a sharp intake of breath as a slight wind fluttered and revealed a glimpse of her upper thigh.

"What happened to your hand exactly?" he asked, sounding as steady as possible.

Fennella snorted, tossing her red curls moodily to the side. "Good fucking question." She grabbed the pencil, which had rolled boredly off to her left, and began perusing the floor in search of her pain pills, which had coincidentally ended their journey at the tip of Kobu's boot.

"Are you going to answer that good fucking question?" Kobu teased lightly, bending down to retrieve the pills and reading the label casually. Morphine.

Fennella noticed all too late that her pills had become the temporary possession of her companion and cursed quietly. Drawing in a slow breath, the redhead stood to her impressive height and held out a clawed and freckled hand. Her green eyes reflected the weariness she felt and Kobu dropped the bottle easily into her outstretched hand.

"Thank you very much," she said sarcastically, tossing the bottle carelessly into her locker. "If you must know, some Vixens decided to take a bite out of crime, me being the crime."

Kobu thought about this comment for a moment, watching as the girl gathered the necessary books for her night's work. She moved like a cat, though this was hardly unexpected; it was the power in her reach that really caught his eye. When a jungle cat stalks its pray, the shoulder blades on its slim back undulate, pounding its muscled legs into the ground. Fennella was much this way, looking as though she could always leap into a fighting rage. It was sort of...sexy.

Clearing his throat, more to bring himself out of his stupor than anything, Kobu said menially, "Well, we all know they're sluts and nothin' more. I bet if they'd challenged you one on one like real soldiers they wouldna stood a chance."

Fennella zipped up her backpack and shut her locker door, turning quietly to face Kobu as her hand remained steadied on the cold iron plate. "You and I both know people don't always play by fighting rules."

Kobu snorted, his scarred face suddenly grim. "Yeah, true enough. Sorry they didn't, anyway."

"Yeah, me too," Fennella snorted, giving what could best be described as a ghost of a smirk before she turned and made her way towards the exit doors at the hall's end. She was vaguely aware of Kobu's eyes following her the whole way down, never leaving the base of her neck where it met her shoulders. It figures: the one sane guy in this ridiculous school and he wasn't even looking at her ass. Figures.

There you have it, an author's attempt to pick something up where it was left off way long ago. I'll have to do some reading to get back into the spirit. It's been a long time since I touched this, but I thought about them every day.

Gan's playlist:
1. Speak Slow- Tegan and Sara
2. David- Nellie Mckay
3. I Want to Break Free- Queen
4. Bei Mir Bist Du Schon- The Puppini Sisters
5. Taste You- Melissa Auf der Maur
6. Samson- Regina Spektor
7. Ice Cream- New Young Pony Club
8. Invincible- Ok Go
9. Black Mamba (Teddybears Remix)- The Academy is...
10. I Write Sins, Not Tragedies- Panic! At the Disco
11. Born Normal- Dispatch
12. Queen of Apology (Patrick Stump Remix)- The Sounds
13. It Doesn't Matter- Alison Krauss and Union Station
14. Hanging by a Thread- Nickel Creek
15. Bang Bang My Baby Shot Me Down (Remix)- Audio Bullies
16. Stricken- Disturbed
17. Beg- Evan's Blue
18 . 9 Crimes- Damien Rice
19 .Blue and Grey- South FM
20. Speeding Cars- Imogen Heap

Even though I'm bloody 21 years old now....still KOLU













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