InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ No Inspiration ❯ Talk About Inspiration ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: I'm poor, I live in a house that's falling apart, and my internet doesn't work half the time. Do you really think I own anything other than a hentai/yaoi/yuri closet? No, I didn't think so.

Talk About Motivation
Chapter 3


It had been a week, one whole week since Higurashi Kagome had picked up the book and started reading it, but she was still at a loss as to who the silver-haired demon was. All that she'd found out was that he was the first and only pure blood son to the dog general Inutaishou, or as the story referred to him, Inu-no Taisho. He was also the ruler of all the western lands in Japan, and while he did not rule with an iron fist, he was the strongest of all the daiyoukai. Thus, Kagome had been left to make her own assumptions as to his character, his state of mind, what he was known for.

Ever since she had first picked up the book, she had sensed a great loneliness within him. She also sensed a certain amount of possessiveness and a great deal of stubbornness, too. Somewhere along the way she'd gotten the idea that he wouldn't admit something if he thought it would make him seem weak in any way. It made sense, though, why give anyone a weapon to use against you, why let someone hurt you when you can prevent it? Maybe he had something to protect, someone to protect, but he wouldn't admit it because he was strong, untouchable and he didn't need anyone. Kagome was sure that as far as he was concerned, nothing could hurt him, nothing could weaken him, and there was no way that he would admit to something that wasn't true.

 

She sighed as she traced her reflection in the lacquer surface of her table; one week gone and all she had, was an idea. A single thread, maybe two, but certainly not enough to weave the tapestry that she needed, let alone six. It was at that moment that a knock sounded at the front door, making Kagome jump out of her thoughts. When the knock came again, she stood up and went to see who would possibly call on her. Sango and Miroku had gone out to dinner only moments before, which meant it couldn't be for either of them. So…who could it be?

 

The woman on the other side of the threshold looked utterly exhausted, her feathery gray hair held out of her face in a tight bun and her spectacles hanging on the edge of her proud nose. When Kagome opened the door, she was slightly surprised, but this visit was not completely unexpected. She'd been quite the slacker during that class, believe it or not. She was fine in all of her other classes, though, perfect scores across the board. But since Nanada-sensei's class was her core class ... well, let's just say that things weren't looking up for her.

 

“Sensei,” she greeted with a slight bow, “onegai, come in.”

 

“Arigatou, Higurashi,” Professor Nanada said with an almost dismissive nod, “but I'm only here to give you a small bit of advice.”

 

Yep, this visit was definitely what she thought it would be, so Kagome looked the older woman right in the face. She would not let the professor intimidate her, nor would she lose her cool. She'd practically asked for this after the past week.

 

“Higurashi,” the professor started, “you are one of the best students I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. You posses a great talent that I have only seen in very few people, but I'm afraid talent means nothing if you don't use it.”

 

It was all Kagome could do to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. Nanada sensei never complimented anyone, but there she stood, quite obviously telling Kagome, Higurashi Kagome, that she had talent. Not to mention that she had implied that her talent was a rare one and that she was one of the best students she had ever taught. Wow...she must have been possessed by one of those body snatchers or...well...something because this was definitely not normal.

 

“You're a phenomenal artist, Higurashi, and I hate to be the one to tell you this. I understand that sll of my students work at different paces, however, your other class mates have all turned in at least one canvas already. I'm afraid that if you don't get to work on your paintings soon, you'll be in danger of failing this semester. I am here to remind you that if you do not pass this semester, your scholarship may very well be terminated and you'll either have to find some other way to pay for your courses or you'll have to leave the university.

“Gomen ne, Kagome. I know that this isn't what you wanted to hear, but I'm afraid it must be said. For your own sake, I hope you find your muse again, I would be very displeased if I have to fail you because of an artistic block. So, now that I've given you all the warning I can, I do look forward to seeing your work once more. Konbanwa, Higurashi.”

 

“Konbanwa, sensei.” Kagome closed the door then slid down to the floor and drew her knees up to rest under her chin.

 

Professor Nanada was right; she couldn't afford to not do the midterm canvases even though all of the rest of her previous projects had received high marks. A hundred divided by two was fifty, and since the midterm was half of the semester's final mark, she could be in very real danger of failing. However, Kagome found her opinion of the Professor-From-Hell to be changing dramatically. If she was indeed the heartless old hag that everyone made her out to be, then she had to have some kind of multiple personality disorder. There was also a very caring side to the professor, and Kagome felt bad, horrible actually, that she'd made assumptions towards the woman's character based off of mere hallway rumors. As she took a deep relaxing breath, she pushed herself up off the floor and pulled on her tennis shoes. A nice long walk was what she needed, something to loosen her up and air out her seemingly too stuffed skin. Maybe she'd pick up some ramen while she was out, oh and sukiyaki, too. So, she reached into her jeans pocket just to be certain that her keys were indeed there, then she opened the door once more and left. She took the stairs two at a time, stopping to wave and say "hello" to the cheer squad.

 

Kagome's whole week had been slow and monotonous, Sango and Miroku serving as her only solace. They alone seemed to offer encouragement and a strange form of contentment. In fact, Sango herself had asked her on more than one occasion during the week if she would want to join them on one of their increasingly frequent outings. But she would insist that the two would have more fun without her to drag along behind them. Constantly, she had insisted that she needed to get serious about her midterm; if only she could make the ever elusive youkai inside her head believe that as well then she would be set. So, with a few thousand yen tucked safely in her back pocket, Kagome wandered the streets of downtown Kyoto. It was only six in the afternoon, and children rummaged through the toy stores while their parents attempted to keep them in line. Variations of “Okaa-san, can I have this” were constantly met with even more creative replies, which in turn all boiled down to the same answer: “No”.

 

She laughed lightly at the woman's plight, remembering that her mother had had to say the same word to her and her brother on multiple occasions once upon a time ago. Now, though, Kagome hardly ever saw her family at all, being that they were all back in Tokyo and here she was in Kyoto. More often than not, she'd found herself wishing for a moment with her mother, the stress from her upcoming midterms nearly sending her into tears. She wouldn't cry, though, she'd gone into Nanada-sensei's class knowing full well that the woman was a tougher-than-nails professor.

 

No matter how much she'd tried to keep her cool over the last week, Kagome couldn't help but feel a little in over her head. There had been moments when she'd wanted nothing more than to quit, to give up and go do something easier. But then, as if on command, she'd hear her mother's voice at the back of her mind saying: "Hey, don't give up! We all believe in you, so go for it, and don't worry, it'll be fine." So, she'd sigh and go back to drawing nonsensical scribbles on her sketch paper, remembering just how hard she'd worked to get into the university and how much her family had given up for her to be there.

 

She looked back at the woman and her little boys at the front of the toy store, telling them that they had pleanty of toys at home and they didn't need any more. The boys wouldn't have it, though, so they pulled out all the stops. Pouty mouths, crocodile tears, and puppy dog eyes, they sniffled up at her, begging all the same. Kagome knew it wouldn't be too long before the woman finally relented or dragged them away from the store altogether, there was only so much that a person could take, after all.

 

I really do need to let them know how I am, though, she thought to herself, watching in closely kept amusement as the woman relented. Okaa-san always tells me exactly what I need to hear. I bet she's having trouble with Jii-san, too, what with his constant story telling.

 

It was not until she passed a pair of twins fighting over the last pack of a certain type of trading cards that she let her mind wander to the silver-haired youkai. Would the need to protect what was close to him, what was important to him, lead him to fight another for something? And if so, what would he want that could have held such value? What's more, would he even bother to fight for what he wanted or would he resort to petty trickery to obtain what it was that he wanted? Kagome stopped and sat down on one of the many benches that were located on the sidewalks up against buildings. This was what she was looking for, a rivalry and how the elusive youkai from the shadows of a story would fit into it. She had just found a chain of questions and answering them with what she already knew was what she would have to do in order to find her inspiration. Her heart fairly swam in her chest as it mimicked the itching in her fingertips, the itching that always came when she had an idea. And she was determined to catch this idea before it fluttered away in the cool wind.

 

First question: “Would the need to protect what was close to him, what was his, lead him to fight another for something?”

 

Well, surely everyone wanted something or another that someone else had in their possession, so it was entirely possibly. The need to protect what was his would certainly increase his desire to obtain something another had; but that meant that said “something” would have to be important, powerful. But why did he need to protect what was his? Here Kagome took out one of the many pens she almost always carried around with her. As an artist, she couldn't just let something she thought of, some flash of brilliance, simply flutter away. So she took off her men's dress shirt and, ignoring the slight chill of the breeze through her wife beater, and she began to write down her thoughts on the back.

 

Perhaps the reason he felt the need to protect what was near to him was because he lost something or someone due to a momentary weakness on his part. Someone he cared for deeply, a lover or perhaps a family member, or maybe a portion of his lands was lost, conquered by someone stronger. Maybe it was just a matter of foolish pride.Immediately, Kagome crossed out that last thought and the “something” from the thought prior. The lost “object” was decidedly a person, because the book, or at least what she had perceived from the book, had said that he was the strongest, so why would he lose something?

 

Second question: “What would he want that could have held such value?”

 

If he wanted something because he needed to protect, then his desired “object” was not a person, or at least not a singular person. Maybe an army, but that would have defeated the purpose of the youkai “himself” protecting what belonged to him. So she crossed out “person” and circled “object”. The item would have to increase his power or maybe hold sentimental value, like an heirloom or something of that sort. But what would one leave their son back in the Sengoku Jidai? Surely not a tapestry or clothes and jewelry; what did warriors value? Then it hit her. The youkai needed something powerful that he could use to protect, so what better than a weapon of some sort, a sword which possessed great power? But if that was so, then how would he have lost it? … Maybe he received an heirloom, but the one he wanted wasn't given to him, maybe he had a sibling, a younger brother. But if he was the first and only “pure-blood” son…the second had to be a hanyou. But why would the younger get a sword while the heir did not? Now she was stumped. Why would the father grant the younger son such an heirloom and not the elder? Maybe he played favorites or something, who knew? So she put a star next to that last thought and moved on.

 

Third question: “Would he fight or would he use trickery?”

 

For some reason or another, Kagome couldn't imagine him stealing the sword from his brother. She was certain that he had honor, he was a daiyoukai after all. Maybe because he was the strongest of all the daiyoukai he believed trickery to be beneath him. So, she crossed out “trickery” and “stealing”, then circled “fight” and “honor”, making them stand out as much as possible.

 

By the time she had finished her entire chain of thought, the sky had grown dark and the hour late. Children no longer plagued the toy stores and parents had probably long since called out the baby-sitters so they might buy some time for themselves. Rave music pounded around every avenue like a pulsing heartbeat as the promise of flashing lights and hot bodies drew people in; most of them college students like herself. Neon shop signs shone throughout every run of sidewalk on both sides of every street. Kagome sighed to herself, leaning her head back and looking up into the perfest sapphire blue of the night sky. Then she noticed the pure white crescent moon that hung in the immense nothingness that extended far beyond even the tallest building in Kyoto, the bright glow contrasting sharply with the darkness around it. Smiling, she looked back to the space around her instead of the kind that was beyond her reach.

 

As promising as all of downtown Kyoto was, Kagome needed to get back to her apartment and snag at least a few hours of sleep. Tomorrow would definitely be spent doing hours and hours worth of sketches in order to find the perfect form for the silver-haired youkai. So, she stood up from her spot on the bench, folded her shirt, holding it under her arm, and stretched out before making her way home. But her mind kept drifting back to her project, and then it dawned on her. Professor Nanada hadn't necessarily been warning her, or even providing her with advice. No, she'd given Kagome the proper motivation with which her mind had used to break the rust covering the steel trap so that it could snap again. The old woman had known exactly what she was doing when she had come to see Higurashi Kagome scant hours earlier.

 

No, Kagome decided, she's definitely not the “Professor-From-Hell” anymore. I need to thank her on Monday for her “advice".

 

With new re-assurance and ideas tucked under her belt, she nearly skipped all the way back to her apartment. At least she would have, but then she spotted a dark and shadowy figure heading towards downtown on her side of the street. There was a great aura surrounding him, though, one that she couldn't ignore no matter how hard she tried. It was like a cloak of darkness that made her want to solve the mystery that she had begun to associate with him.Usually she would have stayed away, but this particular shadowy figure had long silver hair like the demon in her head.

 

Probably just bleached platinum blonde, she told herself, trying desperately to rationalize her situation. The light is the only reason it looks silver…unless it's a wig or something. Not that it matters anyway, 'cause he's probably just another techno-junkie going to see what unsuspecting girl he can get in to his bed tonight.

 

With her mind put to rest and her better senses placed firmly in the foreground, Kagome looked down at the sidewalk as she and the shadowy figure drew closer to each other. However, despite her forementioned decision that he vas /not/ her special dancing demon, she couldn't stop the butterflies that grew in her stomach. It frustrated her, she knew she was being an absolute loon, expecting a /demon/ to be walking down th estreets of Kyoto, the demon that she'd most likely just made up with her over-active imagination, no less. It probably had something to do with the sleepiness that was creeping into her brain, the shear exhaustion that was making her blink her eyes constantly to keep them from fogging up any more than they already had.

 

Perhaps it was something like destiny or fate, or maybe it was because at that particular moment Kagome had felt the urge to yawn. But right when she raised her unoccupied hand to cover her mouth and her eyes nearly closed; she and the figure collided. The both of them turned inward toward each other, and in that instant, cerulean eyes met the most brilliant molten gold. She'd found it, him, the one she'd been searching for in the back of her mind for the whole past week. Higurashi Kagome finally saw the face that had evaded her since the first time she had seen into the book of Sengoku Jidai fairy tales. He was older, years older, but here he was, and he was the most beautiful inspiration that any artist could hope to lay eyes upon…

~^._.^~ NEKO!!!

Fwee! Changed the formatting again!!! So hopefully it's easier to read now. And again, if you're thinking "Who the hell writes ideas on their clothes?" I'm raising my hand, yes, I'm admitting it, I write ideas and sketch on my clothes, you should see them, they're horrendous.
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