InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Nikanaru ❯ Dual Exposition ( Chapter 7 )

Previous Chapter Illustration:

 

www.deviantart.com/view/22454867/

 

Ha-HA! Max gets revenge for the pain that same off-screen hand gave him last time! Granted, he didn't do that on purpose, and feels kinda bad about it…oh well.

 

…

 

(Suddenly smacks self in head) Holy Canseco, I FORGOT the TAIL! Damnation!

 

 

 

 

Nikanaru

 

Chapter 7:

 

Exposition

 

Or

 

Tension…Tension Broken…Tension Regained…Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

 

 

 

Eleven Years ago

 

They had decided that she would go to school in Japan for half the year, then finish up the rest in Mexico and stay there for summer vacation. It was, after all, sunnier there, and thus a perfect place for a little girl to run around and play. It had been a compromise, as her father had originally wanted her to go to school in Japan full-time, but her mother had argued that she didn't want her daughter to lose touch with her Mexican heritage. In the end, they both decided that a broad, international educational experience would be best. Besides, it wasn't like they couldn't afford spur-of-the-moment plane tickets if ever something came up.

 

Regardless, here Alexandria Matsuko Valdez Tanaka sat, her first day of primary school, excited as all get out. For as long as she could remember in her short life, her father had been lecturing her on the empowering aspect of a strong education. He'd told her that school would be the tool that would give her the power to do anything she ever wanted in life. He'd told her all about how studying hard and being a good student had enabled him to attain his hailed position as one of the world's foremost surgeons. Doctor Tanaka commanded wide respect in the international community, having appeared in several magazines and news programs for his general expertise and for his revolutionary new surgical techniques and procedures. He traveled all over the world, giving lectures and forums to fellow doctors and aspiring med students.

 

But of all those people, it was his own daughter, Alex, who admired him more than anyone. She wanted to be like him. She wanted that same respect, that same glory, that same life. So now that she had graduated pre-school and found herself at last in a serious educational institution, she couldn't wait to begin her scholarly experience. She'd even studied with a private tutor over the summer to ensure that she'd be absolutely ready for everything and anything that could possibly happen here.

 

But for what she was expecting, it was a little less intimidating than she'd anticipated. The room she was seated in had somewhat childish decorations on the walls, posters of basic alphabets and kanji, little cartoon characters adorning the textbooks…the whole thing felt much less serious than she was expecting. But still, she couldn't wait for things to get started. Already she had her pencil case out and on her desk, had several sheets of looseleaf at the ready, and had her hands clasped respectfully over the desk. She had been prepared for this long before she'd even gotten up this morning.

 

Then, she saw something she most unquestionably hadn't been expecting. And it had nothing to do with the educational experience.

 

A nervous looking boy walked into the classroom. Alex's eyes went wide the split second she saw him uneasily creep through the classroom door. Her hands unclasped, her gaze trailed him, stupefied as he made his way over to the teacher and, like any other typical student, gave her his name and headed over to his assigned seat. As he made his way to his chair a few rows across from her, he looked around the room nervously, like an animal suddenly confronted with the unfamiliar.

 

At that moment, Alex felt a bit the same way. Her young mind wasn't quite sure what to make of this…the boy that she was staring at was about the oddest looking thing she'd ever laid eyes on. First of all, his hair was a platinum, silvery shade, which, while rare, was not unheard of. What was unheard of, though, was that the color of his hair matched the color of what appeared to be his…tail?

 

She blinked again and again, trying to rationalize what she was seeing. His face had these red stripes on it and what looked like a matching crescent moon on his forehead. At first she though that it must have been face paint, but those markings looked like they were right in his skin…like a tattoo or a birthmark. Not at all like some of the sloppy maquillage she'd sometimes gotten at festivals back in Mexico. His ears were pointy, too…like an elf, or like those aliens on “Star Trek.” She supposed that they could be just makeup too, but they looked so darned real. They even seemed to twitch occasionally. But of all these things, what stood out most was the tail…

 

Because he'd kept this “tail” on his shoulders, she considered at first that it was some sort of fuzzy boa or pelt of some kind. A downright strange fashion statement, but she'd been taught that different cultures had different traditional garb that should be respected. However, that belief was quickly thrown out the window when she saw the “Boa” actually move by itself. When the teacher had welcomingly patted him on the shoulder, it had pulled itself out of the way, and then had rested itself back again when her hand was gone. Then when the boy went to sit down, his tail folded itself into a small cushion behind his back. Even though it was thick and fluffy, it had squished down almost flat when his back pressed it against the seat. Sort of like those Persian longhair cats who appear enormous when they're dry, but when they get wet and their fur is flat against their skin, you can see that they're really less than half that size.

 

She couldn't stop staring at him. Her parents had explained to her long ago about how there were different kinds of people in the world, which is why she herself looked a little different from her friends in Mexico as well as from her friends in Japan. They had told her all about how there are various ethnicities…people with different skin colors, different facial features, different hair types, and so on…but not once did they ever mention people with tails and pointy ears. This boy didn't even look like a person. She could almost swear he wasn't even human!

 

Strange thing was, no one else seemed to be paying the boy any mind. Not a single other person in the classroom was giving him the same curious stares that Alex was. They all just passed him by or casually looked at him as if there was nothing unusual at all. Was there something wrong with them? Or was there something wrong with her? Or maybe he really was just a different kind of person…another ethnicity she hadn't come across yet, but that everybody else had. She'd have to ask her parents about it when she got home tonight.

 

She had been taught that there is no real fundamental difference between people of different ethnicities and that everyone was equal…but danged if she didn't wish she could have such an adorable, poofy tail like that! And those long ears could probably carry a lot of pretty earrings…what on earth was he?

 

Just then, the boy looked right back at her. Alex almost gasped when she got a good look at his eyes…the pupils looked a bright yellow-gold color, like nothing she'd ever seen. It was…captivating. She couldn't take her eyes off them, and was almost completely oblivious to the fact that the boy was staring at her in annoyance.

 

Finally, the boy upped the ante when he stuck his tongue out at her.

 

Knocked out of her admiring trance by such an insulting gesture, Alex angered and rasberried him right back.

 

He retorted by pulling on the sides of his mouth.

 

Alex reprised by pulling up her nostrils.

 

With his thumbs, the boy stretched at his eyelids.

 

Alex shoved her pinky up her nose.

 

“Good morning class!” The teacher finally announced, making both Alex and the boy ten-hut themselves into a respectful, no funny-faced seating at their desks.

 

“Good morning, teacher.” The whole class replied in unison, as their parents had taught them.

 

******

 

Present

 

She witnessed several emotions flashing across those eyes at once when he bore witness to that sketch: Shock, confusion, dread, fear, guilt…but mostly shock. The sheer strength of his reaction, though, had at least allowed her to finally confirm that she had not, in fact, been hallucinating all these years. He wouldn't have acted like that if her drawing had represented something confusing and alien to him…no, he quite clearly recognized what he was looking at, and was clearly shocked that someone else had as well. She almost wished she hadn't, though, as he quite obviously wasn't taking it well.

 

“Since…when?!?” Max finally queried in a voice that betrayed a little of his panic.

 

“Since…uh…always.” Al quietly answered, Max's agitation worrying her.

 

“Always? What's always??” He wasn't angry, but he was certainly quite unnerved, and her gentle voice was clearly doing nothing to pacify him.

 

“Since the day I met you! You…you've always looked like that.” She shot back, pointing toward the sketchbook Max was still holding in a nervous, vice-like grip, his claws digging into several layers of paper.

 

“Since we were kids.” He clarified. She nodded. “I looked like this.”

 

“Right.”

 

“The ears?”

 

“Right.”

 

“The claws?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“The stuff on my face?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“The…tail?”

 

“Pretty hard to miss that one.” Max paused.

 

Actually, it should be.

 

“Okay.” A sharp intake of breath indicated his attempt to collect himself. “Now, tell, me…” He continued in a disturbingly calm voice. “…does anybody else see this?”

 

Is this some ongoing joke that's been going on behind my back all this time?

 

“Not…as far as I know.” She answered as delicately as she could, as if expecting the a wrong tone in her voice to send him over the edge.

 

“And…to my recollection, you've never brought this up in conversation before.”

 

“No.” She said flatly.

 

“Well, how is that, exactly?” He was getting panicky again. “How have you not said anything if this is what you've been seeing all these years?!”

 

“What was I supposed to do?” She defensively leaned back a little. “Just randomly drop in a conversation, “Oh, by the way, Max, when I look at you, you look like some sort of elf-squirrel thing.'?” Max paused.

 

“Well…that would have been a start.” He grumbled as he sat back. “Waitaminute…'elf-squirrel'??”

 

“Yeah, that's…that's what you looked like to me at first.”

 

“Oh.” Max relaxed his grip on the sketchbook a little, which had become so taught in his hands he was on the verge of accidentally ripping it in half. Now that it was mentioned, his tail did sort of bear a resemblance to a squirrel's.

 

Dammit.

 

“So…” Al continued on slowly. “I take it by your reaction that…you DO, in fact, look like that? And that I am not crazy?” He waited a moment before answering, wondering that maybe he could still convince her that she was just hallucinating. Maybe he could wave his tail in front of her face and fool her into thinking she'd just been hypnotized into seeing the demon before her.

 

Sure, brainiac. Hypnotize her with the very tail you're trying to make her believe isn't real.

 

“Y-yeah. I mean, yes…I do.” He at last confessed, leaning back into the couch in defeat.

 

They're eyes remained locked, just as they had the day they met over a decade ago, neither of them quite sure what they were supposed to do now. Each one had just revealed to the other a secret that they'd been keeping for over a decade. Both had exposed themselves, and both felt extremely uncomfortable, nervous…vulnerable, even. What was worse, though, was the utter silence and motionlessness…awkwardly pregnant pauses in conversation were one of the things Max could stand least of all. Almost involuntarily, he chose to break it.

 

“You made my cheeks look fat.” He muttered as he glanced over the sketch again. Probably not the greatest of icebreakers, but it seemed to do the job, as she gave an ever-so-slight tug at the side of her lips before she leaned foreword and continued cleaning the blood off of him. “Uh, seriously, though…” He continued. “…if this is what you've seen since you met me, why, exactly, did you never say anything?”

 

“I dunno.” She whispered as she got a new, cleaner towelette.

 

“You…don't know.” That was to believe. “Uh, pardon me, but if it were me, and I was seeing something like...this…” He once again motioned toward the drawing. “…I'd be screaming about it to everyone I know at the top of my lungs.”

 

“Really?” She gave him a dubious look back. “You'd try and convince people you could see a…I dunno what the hell you're supposed to be…but some inhuman being? That it seems to be invisible or something to everyone in the world except you? You'd try to get people to seriously believe that without getting hauled of to a psychiatrist or a mental institute?” That gave Max some pause for thought. She did bring up a hell of a point there.

 

“Still.” He maintained. “I just… can't believe you've been seeing this and never said anything.”

 

“Well, when I first saw you, I was just a dumb kid…” She said, careful to wipe gently at his sore abdomen, despite her growing nervousness. “You looked pretty weird to me, but since no one else freaked out around you, I figured you must've just been ethnic or something.”

 

“Ethnic??” He would have laughed if it didn't quite literally hurt to do so. “Ethnic people don't have fangs, claws, or tails.” He stated obviously. “You're… what, sixteen? I'm assuming you've figured that out sometime between now and then.”

 

“Well, yeah. Eventually, I did. And I did try asking my parents about it, but they though I was talking about a cartoon or something when I asked them about elf-squirrels.” She pulled back, now having cleaned up everything except the gash where the blood had been flowing, and missing Max's glance of irritation at being compared to a squirrel again. “I dunno. I guess between the fact that I'd already gotten used to you by the time I realized something was wrong, and the fact that I couldn't back up my claims with any proof, I just decided to let it be.”

 

“Let it be?”

 

“Well, yeah. You act normal.” She raised an eyebrow in reaction to her own words. “Well, not `inhuman' normal, anyway.” She corrected. “You aren't feeding on the flesh of virgins or anything, as near as I could tell. And anytime I looked at photos of you, you looked perfectly human in them. So I just figured…y'know, why not leave well enough alone?”

 

“I…” He wasn't sure what to say. He was just…amazed. How anyone without a personal stake in it could keep a lid on something as massive as this was, in his mind, unthinkable. That she knew about him, saw him as he was, and never said a thing to anyone…he was just amazed…

 

…and yet, it was simultaneously embarrassing and disappointing. It was like going inside a closed room that you were sure was empty, doing a stupid dance just for the hell of it, only to discover that someone else had been hidden in there all along and saw everything.

 

“So…how come you never said anything to just me?” He finally asked.

 

“Like I said…I dunno.” She sighed, looking down as she applied some disinfectant to the wound. “I just got…kinda used to it. Pretty soon, I just stopped noticing. Hell, I haven't even thought about it in years until yesterday.”

 

“Yesterday?”

 

“Yeah, you know…you showing up all over the news over that incident at the bridge.” A flash of memory surfaced in Max's mind, followed closely by a second one when he remembered the strange way Al had been staring at him earlier today.

 

“You knew that was me?”

 

“Well, yeah. Usually, for some reason, when I see you in photos or in a mirror, you look totally human.” She said motioning towards their reflection in the television, where Max still looked homo sapient, and it looked like Al was applying a bandage over unmarred skin. “Then last night, I see you on the news, looking exactly like you do when I see you. And for once, everybody else saw you that way, too.”

 

“Oh…yeah… Hey, that's right!” His fingers began playing with the crystal around his neck as he pondered. “Why the hell didn't this work on you, then?!”

 

“Huh?”

 

“It's…uh…” Trailing off, he carefully wondered whether he should explain this to her.

 

C'mon, she is your friend…or tolerable acquaintance, anyways. If she really has kept quiet about you for all these years, then it probably wouldn't hurt to let her in on a few other things. Besides, you need to figure out why the crystal won't work on her.

 

Or, even if he try to explain things, how he could get her to believe it? Al was an atheist, and a staunch one at that…how exactly was he going to explain magic to her? Particularly when he himself had such a feeble grasp of how it worked?

 

“Do you believe in the…um, occult?”

 

“Sure, why not?” She shrugged at him. “I'm looking at an example of it right now, aren't I?”

 

Oh. Right. The number of smacks he'd wanted to give to his forehead were growing steadily.

 

“Actually, while we're on the topic…” She continued. “What, exactly, are you?”

 

“Heh.” Suddenly, a glint of some long-lost humor was seen in his eyes. “Short answer, or long answer?”

 

“Uh…short, I guess.” He leaned in and stared at her dead on, as if daring her to doubt him.

 

“Demon.” Grinning at her reaction, she was clearly tempted to.

 

“Uh…okay then, I'm actually gonna need the long answer.”

 

“Well, the long answer is gonna disappoint you.” He explained with a widening grin. “…because it's a long story and its filled with holes. And at the end, the conclusion is going to turn out to be: `Actually, I don't know.'”

 

“I… see.” She remarked, taking a deep breath. In doing so, however, she wrinkled her nose and was reminded of something she'd been pushed to the back of her mind up until now. “Okay, I know this is radically changing the subject, but you really smell like a sewer.”

 

Oh, shit. Thought Max, completely unaware of the pun he'd just made.

 

“Where have you been?”

 

“A sewer.” Blurting it out casually, he didn't realize until a second later how utterly bizarre that would sound on top of everything else.

 

“Wow.” Al slowly got up, shaking her head. “So…I suppose there is a lot more to you than I guessed.” She supposed, referring to her previous assumption that he mostly behaved normally.

 

“Actually, it's just been a really, really odd day.” He tried to assure her. “Trust me, you just caught me at a very bad time.”

 

“Sure.” She shrugged. “Uh…so…how's that gash?” For the first time, he really took notice of the patchwork Al had been doing on his abdomen. Not a bad job…

 

…except she patched right over the bullet you neglected to mention was still in there, you fucking genius.

 

Actually, it might be best to let her think that it's just a gash. She's already a little nervous, and'd probably freak out if you tell her you've been shot.

 

“Not bad. It looked a lot worse than it actually was.” Fangs bared amicably as he smiled his deceitful smile at her. “And besides, I heal fast.”

 

“Great.” Apparently, she swallowed it. “So…um…what did you need to make a call for anyways?”

 

“Oh, crap! Grandma!” Worry struck the demon's face once again, wanting to smack himself (again) for forgetting what he'd come here for in the first place. “Uh…phone?” She reached into her pocket and passed him her cell. “Thanks.”

 

God Damn, it's one of those insanely tiny ones. Phones this small also had such small buttons that he had to use the tip of his claws to dial them. As a practice of habit, he shielded the pad of the phone from her vision while he dialed, so that she couldn't see the invisible claws tapping butto…wait…heh, I guess I don't have to do that with her now. With a somewhat embarrassed look in response to her perplexed one, he flipped the phone back down and finished dialing. Interpreting this as an implicit request for privacy, Al shuffled off to a room in the back with a “hmph”. He hadn't exactly wanted to offend her, but also decided not to correct her. He had a lot he needed to tell Grandma…things he preferred not to share with Al as of just yet.

 

“Hello?” The cell apparently had great reception, as Sakura's voice came in crystal clear.

 

“Hi, Grandma…” Sakura's answer returning his attentions to the phone, Max's voice suddenly died when he remembered exactly why he'd wanted to call her…

 

“Hi, Max. What's going on?”

 

“Uh…” The demon drew a complete blank. His mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words he wanted, but found that no matter what he tried to say, a sudden fear was keeping him from saying it…

 

“Max?…Max, are you there?”

 

“Y-yeah. I…just though you should know…”

 

I just thought you should know that today, someone recognized me on T.V., tracked me down and tried to kill me. I've been shot and shot at, I almost died, I sliced an arm off and then killed a person, and I just found out the crystal doesn't work on everyone. So almost everything you've been deathly afraid of, everything you cried over and became miserable just thinking about…it all just happened today.

 

“…that I'm over at Al's. I'll…uh, be home later.”

 

“Oh. Okay, but be sure to be back by six thirty, okay?” He cringed at how her overly cheerful voice contrasted starkly with the incredible worry in his mind.

 

“…Yeah. Sure….uh, see you then.”

 

“Have fun.” A digital beep indicated the call's end. His eyes closed and he gave a very careful sigh as he flipped the phone shut, almost wanting to slam it into his forehead until it shattered into little cellular pieces. So he'd chickened out and lied to Grandma, one of the few people in the world he could ever be completely honest with. Just like he was still keeping things from Al... Why?

 

Because you don't want to see Grandma cry again. Because you don't want to lose friends…even if it is Al.

 

FUCK!!!

 

Okay, just stay calm, buddy. You just…you need to think. You can get the bullet out on your own, later on, and with the bandage under your shirt, no one will know anything. You just need time to collect yourself, calm down, and think. You need to consider everything. If you just blurt it all out to Grandma, she'll go crazy. You can tell her later on when you've got a better idea about what you're going to do…about this, about Al…I just some time to think about it.

 

“Ahem.” His eyes fluttered back open to Al, who had a glass of water handy. Gratefully accepting it, as he was a bit parched, the clear liquid was downed in no time. “So, what happens now?”

”I go home and get some rest, I guess.” He shrugged.

 

“I meant to me.” She corrected. He looked up at her icy gaze, confused.

 

“How should I know? Whatever you were planning on doing tonight.”

 

“You're not going to do anything to me?”

 

“Uh…like what?”

 

“Well…now you know that I know your secret. You're not going to do anything?” The confusion in Max's head knew no bounds at this moment.

 

“What do you mean? What am I supposed to do?”

 

“You're not gonna try and shut me up, threaten me or anything?” An aghast, then offended state crossed the demon's facial features. It wasn't intended to come out as a growl, but it almost did.

 

“Jesus, no! Christ, Al, I'm still the same person you've known all there years!”

 

“Really? That's too bad.” She deadpanned. The anger left him as he blinked a couple of times, astounded by the notion that she was actually trying to be funny. “I find it hard to believe you're not all that worried about this. You're just going to get up and leave, like nothing's wrong?”

 

“I'm…worried, sure, but…well, you're not going to tell anybody, right?”

 

“Not like anyone'd believe me.”

 

Oooh, you'd be surprised.

 

“Point.” He admitted. “Can we talk about this some other time? I really need to go home and get some rest.” He asked carefully, gauging her reaction. “I promise I'll tell you everything later on, okay? …Well, everything that I know.”

 

“That you know?” She echoed inquisitively.

 

“Yeah, like I told you, I'm not a hundred percent sure what I am either. It's a long, crazy story. It'd take me a few hours to…gark!” In an attempt at hauling himself up, he unleashed a slow, long grunt. Al's hand reached out to his shoulder to stop him.

 

“You're just gonna walk home in that condition?”

 

“I…oh, dammit!” Max finally followed through on his promise to smack himself on the forehead. “I forgot to ask for a lift home!” His thumb whipped open the cell again, only to be stopped by Al's hand.

 

“Don't bother. I can drive you.”

 

“You've got a…car?”

 

“Well, the one my dad left here.” She explained. “That okay with you?” There was some hesitation, but now that he thought about it, Grandma would be less suspicious if the normally peak-health demon who bounded rooftops didn't ask for a ride home.

 

“If you're offering, then yeah. Sure.”

 

“Okay. But…one thing…” She motioned toward a room in the back. “…my dad'll have a fit if the car smells like excrement, so why don't you go take a quick shower?”

 

“Uh…” Glancing at his bandage, he couldn't help but question her armchair medical expertise. Showers weren't a great thing to have after freshly applying bandages.

 

“Don't worry.” Holding out a hand for him to get up with, she was apparently reading his mind. “Those are some of those newfangled ones that don't lose their adhesiveness in water. The gel holding that on even has some disinfectant and blood-gelling stuff on it. Your gash won't get wet.”

 

“O-kay.” Stretching his hand out, she helped pull him up, and he suppressed the wince he felt coming when the bullet scraped against his insides further.

 

“That is, if you're feeling well enough to. I could just have the car cleaned out.” He would have agreed to that, but an idea struck him.

 

“No, actually, a shower'd be…great.”

 

***********

 

The tub was as fancy as the rest of the place. It had detachable showerhead, had about a dozen different setting and switches, and could probably spit water in tune with techno music, just for the hell of it. There was even one of those bathroom flatscreens hooked up on the side...it was nuts. Half of this stuff wasn't even necessary. Max had never imagined that bathrooms could be pimped, but if they could, this was an excellent example of it.

 

It did feel kind of weird to get naked and bathe in such an unfamiliar place, but he figured that on top of every other thing that had happened today, this was nothing major. Besides, he really did want to get clean. But most of all, it gave him the perfect opportunity to extract the bullet in secrecy.

 

Jesus, that thing is on tight! He growled as he meticulously peeled off the bandage little by little, doing so while facing away from the water flow so that the adhesive didn't get wet. As long as he was careful, he could just place it back on afterwards. Amateur self-surgery. Oh, boy.

 

The bullet wasn't in too deep. Max had a thick hide, otherwise it would have probably gone right into a vital organ. Instead, it was only about four or five centimeters deep…he could probably dig it out. It would hurt like crazy, but the hole was already there, and going to a hospital wasn't a viable option. It was actually pretty lucky that Al had cleaned up the area so Max could see where he should aim his digit.

 

Here goes. Closing his eyes, Max slowly, carefully pushed his index finger in. It hurt like a bastard, sure, to have raw muscle pushed up against like that; but it wasn't much compared with the pain he'd had when he first been shot. Holding his breath, he slid it in until a little past his second knuckle, when he felt the tip of his claw brush up against something solid. Carefully, he slid the tip over the bullet and slowly began pulling it back. Finally, when he pulled his finger out completely, the bullet slid out and jingled against the porcelain surface of the tub.

 

Breathing again, Max reexamined the wound…he'd reopened it, but it was only bleeding a little. The shower would clean it off, and he could just dry it and put the bandage back on. Within a few hours, it would feel just fine. Hell, by the time he'd washed himself off and stepped out of the tub, just moving at all felt much easier.

 

It's like taking that first piss after recovering from a venereal disease. …Not that I'd know, damn it all.

 

Satisfied with his work, he stepped out and began toweling himself off. But then there was the problem of his sopping wet tail…if this had been his house, he would have just gone outside and shaken off it off, but given that that wasn't an option here, he instead placed it in the shower, closed the curtains and shook it in there. Wrapping himself up in said towel, he considered his clothes…they were still damp from sewage water, still filthy, and the shirt still had his blood on it.

 

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Max scrambled to put the bandage back on as he stammered a reply.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Hey.” Al called from the other side of the door. “Uh, I figure your clothes must be pretty crappy right now, so I got you a few of my dad's old clothes.”

 

“Oh! O-okay.”

 

“You decent?” At that, he secured the towel around his waist a little tighter.

 

“Sure.” The door opened just a crack, and she passed them through…a red tee shirt, some jeans, a pair of socks and some boxers. With a grateful grunt, he grabbed them.

 

“I'm not sure if they'll fit you. You and my dad look about the same size, though.” She called again as he tried them on. “Do you need a belt?”

 

“No, it's cool.” They actually fit quite snugly. Well, the pants and shirt, anyways. The boxers…Max was more of a briefs kind of guy, but…

 

…As much as I don't like my junk free and flapping around, I can't exactly afford be picky right now. His soiled clothes were gathered into some plastic grocery bags, and the two left for the downstairs parking garage.

 

There was still an uneasy silence from the elevator to the car. Maybe because Max had already stated that he'd prefer to talk about everything later on, and that put a big, giant gag on everything Al had on her mind right now. But Max really did want to have a chance to think things through before he told her anything else. It had to be delicately, carefully, and tactfully done, and required a lot of thinking beforehand.

 

Then he saw the car.

 

“Mother of the living fuck!” Echoed throughout the garage. She turned to give him the stink eye as other people in the garage gaped at the violation of their virgin ears. “Is that…”

 

“A Porshe 2019 Radiance, blah, blah. Now get in.” She hissed as he grabbed him by the sleeve and shoved him into the automatically opened passenger side door.

 

“Ow! Christ, injured party, here!” He snarled at her.

 

“You said it was worse than it looked.” She huffed back at him as she entered the driver's side.

 

“What's your problem? I'm sorry I swore in front of all those guys, but since when do you care what people think about you?”

 

“I don't.” The ignition started up and she expertly backed out.

 

“Then what are you so pissed off about?”

 

“Nothing. Forget it.”

 

“No, c'mon, seriously. I'm sorry.”

 

“Whatever.” She ignored him completely as she drove out of the building and onto the streets. He just laid his head to rest against the seat in exasperation.

 

Well, it's almost nice to see that this whole thing hasn't changed her disposition. More silence ensued as they drove along, tension growing with each number of blocks they went down on their way to the shrine. Occasionally, Max would peek over at Al, only to see that she was still giving her driving her undivided attention…although her gaze remained steely and uncompromisingly Al.

 

Then he would peek at the dashboard, as the sudden sharp turn almost sent his face flying right into it.

 

“Woah! Bastard of a turning radius on this!” Al simply grunted in response, checking behind her. “What? What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing!” She insisted. Unbelieving, Max twisted his head around just in time to see those Goths she occasionally hung around with.

 

“Hey, were you trying to get away from them?” She scoffed before answering.

 

“Just didn't want them to see me in this thing.”

 

“Why? This is a friggin' Radiance! It's top of the line!” True…automotive magazines around the world hailed it as one of the best looking and best performing cars of the year. It was a total babe-magnet, or, in a given scenario, an excellent way of making friends.

 

“That's the whole problem.” She grumbled.

 

“Why?”

 

“Nothing. Forget it.”

 

“No really…what's the problem?”

 

“I said forget it!” Grunting, Max glared off to the front. They were still a good ten-minute drive from the shrine. No real sense in spending the rest of the drive in uncomfortable silence.

 

“I once killed a cat.” She very nearly swerved off the road at that.

 

“Wh-what?.!”

 

“See, when I was about two…” He continued. “…we used to have this cat named Buyo. Cute kitty and all, but the fattest fucking animal you've ever seen.” His arms relaxed behind his back in reflection. “Now, I don't remember it very well, but apparently, I was in my room, playing with some toys on my bed, and my tail was, k'know, swishing around. And you know how cats always attack dangling string, right?” The stony expression on her face had long gone, left with utter perplexion. “So he snuck up behind me, and just pounced my tail. Sunk his claws and teeth right into it. Me, I just spun around so effin' fast that the cat, still holding on to my tail, went flying right out the window. And the damn thing never let go of my tail, like it was hanging onto it for dear life. Now, when I saw this cat was fat, I mean it weighed more that I did back then. His weight and momentum actually dragged me through the window with it!”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“No. Ask my Great Grandpa.” He insisted. “Anyway, so it's a second floor drop right? So I'm screaming my head off, I'm thinking I'm about to die. Now maybe this was instinct, but apparently, I tried to land on my hands.” Exemplifying this, he stuck his arms out foreword. “But see, the thing was, the cat was right below me. And me, I've got these.” He curled his fingers to indicate his claws. Al's jaw dropped.

 

“You didn't…”

 

“Well, not on purpose…”

 

“That's sick!”

 

“It was an accident!”

 

“It's still horrible!”

 

“He was old! He was, like, 14. And fat. It's a miracle he even lasted that long.”

 

“Did he at least die painlessly?”

 

“Well…Great Grandpa says so. He said he came running when he heard me screaming, and just saw me crying on the ground, and Buyo wasn't even moving. Like I said, I was two, so I can hardly remember.” After waiting a moment, Al released one hand from the wheel, waving around to exemplify her confusion.

 

“Why…why would you even tell me something like that??”

 

“That's my big, dark secret.” He explained. “Of all the things I can tell you about me not being human, that's the worst. So there, it's out of the way.”

 

“Uh…alright.”

 

“So now tell me what the deal is with you and this car.”

 

“Excuse me?!”

 

“I told you a personal secret, and one of my worst ones at that, now you tell me yours.”

 

“Woah!” She snapped, offended. “You can't just force a something on me like that and expect me to tell you something personal automatically!”

 

“Why? What could possibly be so bad about a car? I mutilated a cat before I was even out of diapers!”

 

“It's not just the car…”

 

“Then what?” She was gritting her teeth in defiance of his inquisition. “C'mon, we've been getting to know each other so well today. Besides, you know that if anyone can keep a secret, it's me.”

 

“Fine.” She huffed. “I don't want people judging me by some stupid, so-called high class fashion ownership bullshit. That's all.” Well, that was a simple enough answer…although it did pave the way for more questions.

 

“Why? Afraid it'll distract them from your sparkling personality?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Or maybe you go this car from a few mafia favors? Is that what you're afraid to tell me?” He teased.

 

“Bite me.”

 

“It's just this secluded lifestyle of yours…for all I know, you could be some black market hitman.”

 

“I will drive this car into a brick wall if that will stop you from talking.”

 

This pretty much went on until Al finally stopped in the parking lot closest to the steps leading up to the Higurashi family shrine. Probably wanting to make sure he could make up those ungodly stairs safely, she escorted him up.

 

“Y'know, I'm glad nothing's changed.” He said, brushing off her hand as it tried to help him up.

 

“Huh?”

 

“This.” He motioned between himself and her. “I was pretty worried for a little while that you were gonna act different to me from now on. But you've been pretty cool.”

 

“You call this…” She repeated the motion between herself and him. “…cool? You're glad this hasn't changed?”

 

“Yeah.” His sudden grin was offsetting…but far from unwelcome. “Y'know, I'd rather people treat me like just some other character to be individually judged instead of some different person who gets special treatment, good or bad.”

 

“Careful.” She warned. “You almost sounded deep.”

 

“Nah…” He mused. “If everyone else is gonna stay the same, I may as well keep being the same superficial asshole you all know and love.”

 

“My joy is physically palpable.” She muttered as they reached the top of the steps. They stopped a few feet away from the house, and he made sure to face her with a serious expression.

 

“So…really. Thanks for everything.”

 

“Eh, no prob.” She shrugged again.

 

“Oh, Max!” They both turned to spot Sakura, who was just stepping out of the house. “That was fast…Oh, hello Alex. How's everything?”

 

“The usual.” Came her nonchalant reply, earning a quick smile from Max.

 

“We're getting supper ready…would you like to stay?”

 

“Thanks, but no. I need to be getting back home.”

 

“Well, all right. Come see us again soon.”

 

“Will do.” She nodded as she started heading back towards the stairs. When she'd gone a few steps, though, she turned and called back: “By the way, sorry to hear about your cat.” Max's smile instantly faded, as all her could do was burn his eyes in the back of her skull as she headed off.

 

Oh, you dirty, rotten…

 

“Cat?” An oblivious grandmother echoed. “What's she talking about?”

 

“Nothing. Nothing, she's crazy.” Max quickly rattled off, slinging his arm around her shoulder and pulling her towards the front door.

 

“Max, are you alright? You look a little pale.”

 

“Yeah, I uh…” Great. Now he needed another quick excuse. “…I got a little sick today.” That was technically true enough.

 

“Today?” That surprised her. “Are you sure?”

 

“Just a little.” He reassured her. “I feel fine now. The off timing was probably just a fluke.”

 

“Well, I hope so.” She worriedly concurred. “Anyways, we're having soup tonight, so that ought to help get rid of whatever it was that's ailing you.”

 

“Sounds awesome.” He smiled, trying to close the ever-rackety shoji behind them as they went into the house.

 

“Also, we have some company tonight.”

 

“Oh yeah? Who?” Grunting, the shoji was finally shutting under his force.

 

“One of your old teachers, actually.” Sakura rounded the corner as she entered the den. “Miss Nagasi, right?”

 

The shoji Max was handling slammed shut so hard it splintered.

 

“Max?!” She suddenly rushed back into the hallway, but before she could question the ruined doorframe, a panicked Max dashed past her to look into the den…

 

…where he was greeted by Great Grandpa, Uncle Souta…

 

…and Principal Nagasi, who put down her drink to give the frozen demon a knowing smile before her eyes suddenly flashed a terrible bright violet.

 

*********

 

All things considered, that had gone a lot better than expected.

 

It felt…good to be getting everything out in the open. To her, Max had always been this bizarre enigma in her life, a sort of curiosity that, despite herself, she could not bring herself to ignore outright. Much as he annoyed her at times, Max was kind of a pleasant visual curiosity, almost like of a piece of art… his appearance was something exceptional and unique…yet untouched and unsoiled. A rarity in a world filled with such intense ugliness that defiled almost everything it in it. People had been subverted and corrupted, the beauty of anything natural was being destroyed, and any trace of individuality or exceptionality were hunted down and assimilated. Either assimilated over, or assimilated from. Perhaps, subconsciously, beneath all the logic she buried her decision in, the reason Al had never wanted to tell Max about how she saw him was because she wanted his image to remain untouched. No one else disturbed it, and she didn't want to either. She wanted to preserve it as something that all the evil and corruption in the world couldn't reach…couldn't touch.

 

Well, from a visual point of view, anyway. Personality-wise, Max was about as corrupt and brainwashed by modern media, hedonistic lifestyles and corporations as almost any other person. That this personality was juxtaposed with such a unique, pure and outstanding physicality was…well, art. It probably had layers and layers of meaning that she couldn't begin to comprehend.

 

Okay, granted, Max wasn't the worst of what she'd seen. He wasn't a total prick. He was at least friendly, but the way he tried to make a joke out of anything, even serious issues, represented everything she hated about modern society: Apathy, and making light, or even turning a blind eye toward the injustices and suffering of others. Maybe that's why she got especially mad at him in particular whenever he'd goof around.

 

Circumstances, however, had forced her to shatter the serenity surrounding his appearance. She'd dared to touch it by merely acknowledging that she could see it, and much to her relief, it had nevertheless remained unmarred. As Max had put it, nothing had changed. Or had mostly not changed. The image she admired was still there, and now Al also knew that Max was a little better a person than she'd previously assumed. He had saved the lives those people in that car yesterday night, when any other person might have been content to stand around with their hands in their pockets and gawk at the horror. And he'd been relatively nice and kind to her, even after she revealed that she could potentially be a danger to him. A part of her was also hoping that when they did get together and finally talk about everything, she'd learn even more about him that would elevate her opinion of him. Maybe there was still a chance for some glimmer of hope and beauty in this world.

 

Scream.

 

That's what interrupted her thought process as she was opening the door to the car. A horrible scream had rung off in the distance. Although the strength of its tone had died off by the time it reached her, there was no mistaking the horror in it. Looking back, she realized it was coming down from the Higurashi shrine.

 

End Chapter 7

 

 

***********

 

A/N:

 

You: You killed off Buyo?! Booooooooooooooooooo!!! I'm not reading this anymore!

 

Me: What?! Cats live for, like, 15 years! This story takes place almost 20 years after the Inuyasha series began! I'm trying to be at least mildly logical, here!

 

You: You had him mutilated, for God's sake! You sick BASTARD!

 

Me: So? Someone lost an arm, last chapter, and no one raised a fuss.

 

You: But this was a cute lil' kitty! Man, you totally suck!

 

Me: Uuuurrrggghhh…

 

…I was originally going to have this chapter and what I'd planned to be the contents of the next chapter all in one, but just this went on for awhile and was a lot harder to write than I expected, so I decided to split her in two. If all the dialogue and steamy shower scenes bored you (Did they? Seriously, lemmie know), rest assured that the next chapter will be Smackdown â„¢ time.

 

Oh, and a special thank you goes out to Ponygirl2112, who helpfully pointed out the meaning of “decapitate” is to cut off very specifically a person's head, and not, as I had previously assumed, any old body part. (I have now made the necessary corrections.)

 

If anyone else wants to point out what a moron I am, by all means, go for it!

 

Seriously.

 

Giggidy.