InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Oh, No! Not Another AU?! ❯ Battle Of The Bands ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Kibo 
When confronted with the cocky lead singer and guitarist of a rival group, Kagome tries to keep her temper.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Comedy | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.27.2003 | Updated On: 07.29.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 829 | Status: Completed
When confronted with the cocky lead singer and guitarist of a rival group, Kagome tries to keep her temper.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Comedy | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.27.2003 | Updated On: 07.29.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 829 | Status: Completed
Edited 7/28/04
~*A/N: I know, I know, finish what you start before starting another thing. The idea for this fic has been rolling around my head for awhile, and I just had to start it. Gomen! Just bear with me, onegai? So, sit back, read, and most of all... enjoy!*~
DISCLAIMER: So what if I don't own it, neither do you, or you wouldn't be reading this, now would you? (P.S. I don't own any of the songs, either.)
Chapter One: Battle of the Bands
The air was thick with anticipation. The crowd was made up of mostly teenagers, with men, women, and children interspersed here and there. All of their eyes were turned towards the stage, silent with anticipation. The silence was broken by slightly distorted guitar chords, quickly joined by beating drums. The three girls onstage had their eyes closed in concentration. Playing lead guitar was a girl of perhaps seventeen years of age, with wavy brownish-black hair that just passed her shoulders, messy bangs shadowing her eyes. She was dressed in combat boots, a black skirt that reached mid-thigh, and a forest green tank top under a long-sleeved black fishnet shirt. The movements of her hands as she played the guitar drew attention to her spiked wristband and black polished nails. She parted dark red painted lips, and began to sing, the words flying so fast they were almost indiscernable.
"Why are you listening to all the things they tell you everyday?
Why are you listening, what happened to your own mind anyway?
Why are you listening to their advice on what to watch and do?
Why are you listening, has your mind been overrun - what do I do?"
As she went into the chorus, the girl to her right leaned in closer to the mic. She was a girl of eighteen, her long raven hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She wore patent leather shoes, and a sleeveless v-neck pink dress that reached just above the knee. Matching eyeshadow was brushed across her lids. Red polish flashed from her nails at every stroke of her bass guitar, and pink lips parted to sing harmony.
"I don't know how they pulled you fast and buried all the trace of the past
I don't know how you left so fast - I really hope that this won't last
Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley. Oh, Shelley, listen to me."
Behind them, a girl who appeared to be a year or so younger than the others enthusiastically beat on the drumset in front of her. With each raise of her drumsticks, bright orange polished fingernails flashed, fingers adorned with many silver rings. Half of her short raven hair was held by a spikey side-ponytail. If the crowd could have seen the small girl behind the large drumset, they would have seen that she was dressed in black chuckie taylor's, ripped and faded blue jeans, and a short-sleeved bright orange mini-tee. No trace of make-up was on her face, adding to the girl's youthful appearance. She tapped out the beat with her foot as the strumming of the lead guitarist/vocalist gave way and the next verse began.
"What are you doing? It's been too long, I never even see you
What are you doing? Different girl, but I don't know who
What are you doing? Fall asleep and disappear for days
What are you doing? Come back flying in a total haze
I don't know how they pulled you fast and buried all the trace of the past
I don't know how you left so fast - I really hope that this won't last
Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley. Oh, Shelley, listen to me."
The two guitarists leaned back from the mics, the lead strumming the notes of the verse in a rapid, wild solo. Her eyes were closed again in concentration, her teeth biting her lower lip. The crowd, which had been dancing, cheered her on. She re-opened her eyes, leaning back toward the mic for the last verse.
"What are you thinking? I suspect you're losing it for good
What are you thinking? Promise I would save you if I could
What are you thinking? I probably don't even wanna know
What are you thinking? Please just say good-bye before you go
Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley. Oh, Shelley, listen to me
Shelley, Shelley, Shelley, listen to me. Oh, Shelley, Shelley, Shelley, listen to me.
Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley. Oh, Shelley, listen to me."
On the last three words, the music and vocals slowed, coming to a winding halt after the last word was sung. The panting breath of the three could almost be heard in the second of silence that followed, sweat shining on their anxious faces. Silence was replaced with thunderous applause, with a few hoots and hollars thrown in for good measure. The girls beamed down to the crowd, as the announcer swept the stage, and the crowd calmed. "Let's hear it again for 'Tama'!" The crowd screamed and clapped in reply. The announcer raised his hand for quiet, and continued, "Next up, Hosey's Meal!"
While he had been introducing the next act, the girls had packed up their instruments, and stage hands had assisted in clearing the stage. Backstage, the lead guitarist flopped onto a chair, slamming down a bottle of water. "Kagome!" the bassist was approaching her, holding her own bottle of water, a smile radiating off her face.
"Sango, well done," she replied, a big smile plastered on her face as well.
"Yeah! We did it! And we didn't screw up!" the drummer came bouncing up, a smile threating to split her face in two.
"Calm down, Rin. That was only the first round. And we won't know until tomorrow if we even made the cut," Sango turned to the hyperactive girl.
"You girls might as well pack up and go home," a male voice came from the other side of the room. "No way you'll ever beat us," the owner of the voice smirked, crossing his arms and assuming a cocky stance.
"And exactly who are you?" Kagome asked, an eyebrow cocked, obviously agitated.
The boy appeared to be about her age, with silvery-white hair down to the middle of his back. He wore a black bandana to keep his bangs out of his eyes, and sunglasses covered his eyes. His red t-shirt read "Your trailer park called. They're missing their trash.", untucked over his baggy khaki cargo pants. A pair of sneakers peeked out from underneath the cuffs of the pant legs. "I," he said, pointing a thumb to his chest proudly, "am Inu-Yasha."
"And that is supposed to mean what to us, exactly?" Sango asked, now facing him, arms crossed over her chest in irritation.
During the confrontation, a boy of maybe eighteen had walked up behind Inu-Yasha, putting a hand on his shoulder. He had shoulder-length raven hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was dressed in a long-sleeved purple t-shirt with tribal designs down both sleeves over a pair of baggy black pants, worn toes of a pair of combat boots visible. "Don't mind him, he just has an ego the size of Mt. Fuji. I'm Miroku, by the way," he said, reaching out his hand to all three girls in turn.
"Sango."
"Kagome."
"Rin."
"Well, ladies, that was quite a show. Was that an original song? I didn't recognize it," his hand had gone to his chin in a thoughtful gesture.
Kagome's jaw dropped, and Sango and Rin eyed Miroku as if he had just announced that he was an alien from outer space and asked them to take him to their leader. "Nani?! It's by the Dance Hall Crashers, which is only the best female punk band ever!" Kagome practically screamed.
Miroku blinked at the girls in shock, and even Inu-Yasha's smirk wavered. The uncomfortable silence was broken when another boy came bounding up, "Inu-Yasha, Miroku, we're on deck." He appeared to be a year or so younger than the two boys, the top of his head falling even with Inu-Yasha's shoulder. His messy red hair was in need of a haircut, and he wore an over-sized blue "birdhouse" t-shirt over baggy blue jeans, his feet completely hidden by the cuffs of the pants.
"We better go get ready, then," Inu-Yasha said, turning and walking away.
"Oh! Hi! I'm Shippo!" the red-haired boy practically bounced out his introduction.
"Kagome."
"Sango."
"Rin."
Shippo bobbed his head as each said their name, smiling before turning to go. Miroku began to follow, before turning back to the girls, "Oh, I almost forgot..." He didn't have time to finish. Inu-Yasha re-appeared, pulling Miroku behind him.
"We don't have time for this," he mumbled, a scowl on his face. He turned his head back to call to the girls, "Watch, and learn."
"Ja ne, ladies!" Miroku called, waving while Inu-Yasha dragged him towards the stage, Shippo bouncing after them happily. The girls giggled, shaking their heads at the boys' behavior.
"Boys," Sango snorted.
"Ugh! He's so, so, so..." Kagome threw her empty water bottle across the room, remembering Inu-Yasha's parting words.
"Cute?" Rin volunteered, her head cocked to the side innocently.
"Ah! Ie! Definitely not! Infuriating, frustrating, annoying, cocky, full of himself..." Kagome's fists had clenched and her face had turned red at Rin's suggestion. Whether from embarrassment or anger, the other two girls weren't quite sure.
"Kagome-chan," Sango placed a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder, "you must learn to control your anger."
"I am in control!" she snapped. "I was just trying not to swear."
"Yeah," giggled Rin, "because if you do, you have to pay."
"Wish I never made that stupid bet," Kagome mumbled.
"Now, now, Kagome-chan, the 'bet' was your idea, remember? You thought paying a quarter per swear-word would force you to think twice," Sango chided.
"I know, I know," Kagome sighed, slumping her shoulders in defeat. When she picked her head back up, the anger was gone, a smile on her face. "Well, we should get going if we want to get good spots, ne?"
"Hai!" both of her friends nodded enthusiastically, and the three headed out of the room to join the crowd, arms around each other.
~*A/N: Yay! Pocky! Oh, right, I'm writing a fanfic here... So, whadya think? Let me know, onegai? Flames are accepted, but they're so bad for the environment. I heard a flame started those raging fires in California... *taps chin with forefinger thoughtfully* Oh, well. Ja ne, minna!*~
~*A/N: I know, I know, finish what you start before starting another thing. The idea for this fic has been rolling around my head for awhile, and I just had to start it. Gomen! Just bear with me, onegai? So, sit back, read, and most of all... enjoy!*~
DISCLAIMER: So what if I don't own it, neither do you, or you wouldn't be reading this, now would you? (P.S. I don't own any of the songs, either.)
Chapter One: Battle of the Bands
The air was thick with anticipation. The crowd was made up of mostly teenagers, with men, women, and children interspersed here and there. All of their eyes were turned towards the stage, silent with anticipation. The silence was broken by slightly distorted guitar chords, quickly joined by beating drums. The three girls onstage had their eyes closed in concentration. Playing lead guitar was a girl of perhaps seventeen years of age, with wavy brownish-black hair that just passed her shoulders, messy bangs shadowing her eyes. She was dressed in combat boots, a black skirt that reached mid-thigh, and a forest green tank top under a long-sleeved black fishnet shirt. The movements of her hands as she played the guitar drew attention to her spiked wristband and black polished nails. She parted dark red painted lips, and began to sing, the words flying so fast they were almost indiscernable.
"Why are you listening to all the things they tell you everyday?
Why are you listening, what happened to your own mind anyway?
Why are you listening to their advice on what to watch and do?
Why are you listening, has your mind been overrun - what do I do?"
As she went into the chorus, the girl to her right leaned in closer to the mic. She was a girl of eighteen, her long raven hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She wore patent leather shoes, and a sleeveless v-neck pink dress that reached just above the knee. Matching eyeshadow was brushed across her lids. Red polish flashed from her nails at every stroke of her bass guitar, and pink lips parted to sing harmony.
"I don't know how they pulled you fast and buried all the trace of the past
I don't know how you left so fast - I really hope that this won't last
Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley. Oh, Shelley, listen to me."
Behind them, a girl who appeared to be a year or so younger than the others enthusiastically beat on the drumset in front of her. With each raise of her drumsticks, bright orange polished fingernails flashed, fingers adorned with many silver rings. Half of her short raven hair was held by a spikey side-ponytail. If the crowd could have seen the small girl behind the large drumset, they would have seen that she was dressed in black chuckie taylor's, ripped and faded blue jeans, and a short-sleeved bright orange mini-tee. No trace of make-up was on her face, adding to the girl's youthful appearance. She tapped out the beat with her foot as the strumming of the lead guitarist/vocalist gave way and the next verse began.
"What are you doing? It's been too long, I never even see you
What are you doing? Different girl, but I don't know who
What are you doing? Fall asleep and disappear for days
What are you doing? Come back flying in a total haze
I don't know how they pulled you fast and buried all the trace of the past
I don't know how you left so fast - I really hope that this won't last
Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley. Oh, Shelley, listen to me."
The two guitarists leaned back from the mics, the lead strumming the notes of the verse in a rapid, wild solo. Her eyes were closed again in concentration, her teeth biting her lower lip. The crowd, which had been dancing, cheered her on. She re-opened her eyes, leaning back toward the mic for the last verse.
"What are you thinking? I suspect you're losing it for good
What are you thinking? Promise I would save you if I could
What are you thinking? I probably don't even wanna know
What are you thinking? Please just say good-bye before you go
Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley. Oh, Shelley, listen to me
Shelley, Shelley, Shelley, listen to me. Oh, Shelley, Shelley, Shelley, listen to me.
Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley, oh. Oh, Shelley. Oh, Shelley, listen to me."
On the last three words, the music and vocals slowed, coming to a winding halt after the last word was sung. The panting breath of the three could almost be heard in the second of silence that followed, sweat shining on their anxious faces. Silence was replaced with thunderous applause, with a few hoots and hollars thrown in for good measure. The girls beamed down to the crowd, as the announcer swept the stage, and the crowd calmed. "Let's hear it again for 'Tama'!" The crowd screamed and clapped in reply. The announcer raised his hand for quiet, and continued, "Next up, Hosey's Meal!"
While he had been introducing the next act, the girls had packed up their instruments, and stage hands had assisted in clearing the stage. Backstage, the lead guitarist flopped onto a chair, slamming down a bottle of water. "Kagome!" the bassist was approaching her, holding her own bottle of water, a smile radiating off her face.
"Sango, well done," she replied, a big smile plastered on her face as well.
"Yeah! We did it! And we didn't screw up!" the drummer came bouncing up, a smile threating to split her face in two.
"Calm down, Rin. That was only the first round. And we won't know until tomorrow if we even made the cut," Sango turned to the hyperactive girl.
"You girls might as well pack up and go home," a male voice came from the other side of the room. "No way you'll ever beat us," the owner of the voice smirked, crossing his arms and assuming a cocky stance.
"And exactly who are you?" Kagome asked, an eyebrow cocked, obviously agitated.
The boy appeared to be about her age, with silvery-white hair down to the middle of his back. He wore a black bandana to keep his bangs out of his eyes, and sunglasses covered his eyes. His red t-shirt read "Your trailer park called. They're missing their trash.", untucked over his baggy khaki cargo pants. A pair of sneakers peeked out from underneath the cuffs of the pant legs. "I," he said, pointing a thumb to his chest proudly, "am Inu-Yasha."
"And that is supposed to mean what to us, exactly?" Sango asked, now facing him, arms crossed over her chest in irritation.
During the confrontation, a boy of maybe eighteen had walked up behind Inu-Yasha, putting a hand on his shoulder. He had shoulder-length raven hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was dressed in a long-sleeved purple t-shirt with tribal designs down both sleeves over a pair of baggy black pants, worn toes of a pair of combat boots visible. "Don't mind him, he just has an ego the size of Mt. Fuji. I'm Miroku, by the way," he said, reaching out his hand to all three girls in turn.
"Sango."
"Kagome."
"Rin."
"Well, ladies, that was quite a show. Was that an original song? I didn't recognize it," his hand had gone to his chin in a thoughtful gesture.
Kagome's jaw dropped, and Sango and Rin eyed Miroku as if he had just announced that he was an alien from outer space and asked them to take him to their leader. "Nani?! It's by the Dance Hall Crashers, which is only the best female punk band ever!" Kagome practically screamed.
Miroku blinked at the girls in shock, and even Inu-Yasha's smirk wavered. The uncomfortable silence was broken when another boy came bounding up, "Inu-Yasha, Miroku, we're on deck." He appeared to be a year or so younger than the two boys, the top of his head falling even with Inu-Yasha's shoulder. His messy red hair was in need of a haircut, and he wore an over-sized blue "birdhouse" t-shirt over baggy blue jeans, his feet completely hidden by the cuffs of the pants.
"We better go get ready, then," Inu-Yasha said, turning and walking away.
"Oh! Hi! I'm Shippo!" the red-haired boy practically bounced out his introduction.
"Kagome."
"Sango."
"Rin."
Shippo bobbed his head as each said their name, smiling before turning to go. Miroku began to follow, before turning back to the girls, "Oh, I almost forgot..." He didn't have time to finish. Inu-Yasha re-appeared, pulling Miroku behind him.
"We don't have time for this," he mumbled, a scowl on his face. He turned his head back to call to the girls, "Watch, and learn."
"Ja ne, ladies!" Miroku called, waving while Inu-Yasha dragged him towards the stage, Shippo bouncing after them happily. The girls giggled, shaking their heads at the boys' behavior.
"Boys," Sango snorted.
"Ugh! He's so, so, so..." Kagome threw her empty water bottle across the room, remembering Inu-Yasha's parting words.
"Cute?" Rin volunteered, her head cocked to the side innocently.
"Ah! Ie! Definitely not! Infuriating, frustrating, annoying, cocky, full of himself..." Kagome's fists had clenched and her face had turned red at Rin's suggestion. Whether from embarrassment or anger, the other two girls weren't quite sure.
"Kagome-chan," Sango placed a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder, "you must learn to control your anger."
"I am in control!" she snapped. "I was just trying not to swear."
"Yeah," giggled Rin, "because if you do, you have to pay."
"Wish I never made that stupid bet," Kagome mumbled.
"Now, now, Kagome-chan, the 'bet' was your idea, remember? You thought paying a quarter per swear-word would force you to think twice," Sango chided.
"I know, I know," Kagome sighed, slumping her shoulders in defeat. When she picked her head back up, the anger was gone, a smile on her face. "Well, we should get going if we want to get good spots, ne?"
"Hai!" both of her friends nodded enthusiastically, and the three headed out of the room to join the crowd, arms around each other.
~*A/N: Yay! Pocky! Oh, right, I'm writing a fanfic here... So, whadya think? Let me know, onegai? Flames are accepted, but they're so bad for the environment. I heard a flame started those raging fires in California... *taps chin with forefinger thoughtfully* Oh, well. Ja ne, minna!*~