InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ No. 2 ❯ No 2, Part 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ A - All Readers ]

A/n: I decided after a while to add Sango's POV to this story. It was really meant as a one-shot but I had a couple people to tell me to add something else and this is what I came up with.



Ok. So here I was, standing in front of my new school. Well, not actually mine but, I will be attending Shikon High for my senior year. I was clearly pissed, upset, angry, frustrated, aggrevated...you get the picture, when my dad told me that his boss wanted him to transfer to another location. Why couldn't this have waited until after I graduated and moved off to college? Men. Whatever. At my old school I was the head of the karate club. Shikon High didn't even offer karate classes. What is up with that? Damn it all to hell. This was going to be hella boring if there wasn't anything for me to beat up on. Maybe some unsuspecting guys? Or maybe not. The guys I've seen so far all look wimpy and pathetic. As you can tell, I'm not one for guys. They strike me as womanizers and players. To me, my dad would be the exception but there's no way in hell I would love him that way. Ew!

Taking one last glare at the offending building, I move my way across campus to the building that houses the maths, sciences, and literatures. I had decided to leave the house early so I could have time to adjust to the campus and the many buildings that held my classes, teachers, and classmates. Didn't want to be one of those people who got here late and have no idea where I'm supposed to go. I still have ten minutes until my first class though. Slowing down, I swing my bag to my front so I can take out my schedule. Building C, class 310...Geometry. If at all possible, with the way I was glaring at the piece of paper, I was sure it would have gone up into flames, ashes scattering around on the sidewalk. Who would want to take Geometry at this ungodly hour? I can't even comprehend math so early in the morning. Two plus two would be beyond me.

A few more steps later and I find myself standing in the doorway of 310. Tamping down my nervousness, I cross the hall and step through the threshold. Only a few students are here already with their notebooks out, pens at the ready. Guess my question of who would want to learn math at this hour was answered when I spot a particular nerdy boy with brown hair and eyes, classes resting at the tip of his nose. Probably one of those brown nosers if you ask me. Being the recluse that I am, I make my way to the back of the class, snagging a seat closest to the window. I'm not a recluse in all aspects of the word. I do have a few friends that I left back home and I do get out of the house. Its just that, I don't make friends easily. I hate when girls try to be friends with me only to have them talk shit behind my back. Also, they act fake, well most of them. And I absolutely hate the ones that talk on the phone all the time, kiss up to boys, and cake their face in makeup. Some could easily be in the circus. And the guys...they like to try to get into my pants. Sling their arms over my shoulder, try to take my bag from me to walk me to class, and some have even tried kissing me when I have no clue as to who the hell they were.

Sighing to myself, I set about preparing for class. Moments later I'm staring out the window watching students scramble to class when the bell rings. Taking a look at the sky and the surrounding environment, I wish more than ever to be outside instead of in this cramped room. A few minutes later the second bell rings and the teacher walks in just before it finishes. The woman was petite looking, perhaps middle aged with freckles adorning her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her hair is a light brown that looks almost red and brown eyes. I guess Geometry won't be so bad but, then again, appearances can be so deceiving. First thing she wanted us to do was to stand up and introduce ourselves. Why do they insist on torturing us this way? People don't like to stand up in a crowded room and tell their names and what they like to do. Gathering my resolve, I stand up near my seat and face the class, straining to keep a polite smile on my face when all I want to do is to be seated in my chair. This is math not public speaking.

"Hello. My name is Takeda Sango and I transfered here from Osaka."

The teacher, Miss Sato, nodded her head once. When the class turned back to the front I all but collapsed in my chair. Relief flooded my veins as she continued on with class. A few seconds later and the door burst open, letting in a tall dark-haired young man. The teacher pardoned him and he walked swiftly to his seat...which so happened to be the one beside mine. Just my luck. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him staring at me. The loser told me his name but I stared at the board. Fortunately for me, he went about pulling his books from his bookbag and setting them out on his desk. What started to aggrevate me though was that he was patting down his pockets and going through his bookbag. Then it dawned on me. The moron had forgotten to bring a pencil. Sighing again, I reach into my bag and pull one out and quickly place it on his desk while he's searching. I start to copy the notes again when I see him come back up to a normal sitting position to find my pencil on his desktop. He looks at me again but I still copy my notes. Looking back up I notice the teacher starting on a fourth board, erasing the first two. Realization told me again that this guy needed to have those notes before class was over. Lucky for him, I'm trying to be nice on my first day.

The rest of the class was uneventful. Just a lot of notetaking. Keeping up at that pace it won't be a surprise if I end up with carpal tunnel. After my books and pencil are secure in my bag, I turn around only to have a pencil thrust in my face. I asked the guy wouldn't he need it for the rest of his classes and he nods dumbly, as if he's suddenly gone mute. I smiled softly at him and force a piece of paper into his hands. The page of notes I didn't pack up. Before what's-his-face can comprehend what I had done, I rush off to my next class.

Do you realize how great it is for classes to be over and to be outside? A semblace of you can, right? My happy moment was short lived, however, when the bottom fell out of the sky. Seemingly beautiful, bright, sunny day crushed by swiftly approaching rain clouds. Peachy. What's even more peachy than this? I have to walk home in this crap. I like the rain, don't get me wrong, its just that I like to be somewhere dry...and not at school, standing under a walkway. Having that loser of a guy nonexistant in my other five classes put me in a great mood on my first day of this lovely, lovely school. Turning around at the presence of someone's hand on my shoulder, I find that nonexistant man. Spoke too soon. I noticed the umbrella in his hand and before I could register what he had asked me, I was giving him my address. What is wrong with me? This guy could be a serial killer or something. As I watched him open his umbrella I dismiss the idea, somewhat, that he could do me harm. The only intention I see right now is that he wants to walk me home.

Miroku, yeah, I remembered his name. stretched his hand out to mine. Did he honestly want me to hold his hand? Duh, Sango. Hesistantly, I put my hand in his and we brave the weather together under that small umbrella. It wasn't so bad when we finally reached my house. Without a word, he waves at me and goes off in the direction of his house I guess. Smiling softly, I enter my house and run up to my room to quickly start on my homework. Throughout the whole evening my hand never stopped tingling. Weird for me because I'm not that type of girl but I am still a girl.

Looking back on that faithful day, five years ago, I'm glad I took the chance with Miroku and have him walk me home. I had to get over the rumors, true they were, that Miroku was a lecher and liked to grope women and ask them to bear his children. He hasn't done that in my presence once since I've met him...to any other girl that is. Smiling brightly, I'm glad I gave the moron my pencil.