InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Ramblings of a Troubled Mind ❯ In Which People Do Stupid Things ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer thingy: I don't own Inuyasha. Yet. That's for another fanfic, which I haven't written yet, but anyway I end up buying Inuyasha for my friend's birthday on the black market…yeah. This is my first fanfic, so read and review like good little…people, mkay? Thanks much.

 

Oh, and there may be some making out in this chapter. Nothing very descriptive, since I have no idea what making out is like and feel slightly weird describing something I have absolutely no experience with. If this offends anyone then please scram.

 

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Shippo was waiting for Rin—who was probably the love of his life, let's be honest—at the skate park where they both worked during the summer. His job was more of a cashier type thing since, on a skateboard at least, he had the coordination of an avalanche, meaning he fell down a lot.

 

He considered himself lucky to be in love at fifteen where most of the other people he knew couldn't figure it out at the age of twenty-five. But then, he had thought the same thing at twelve, and with the same person, though he had been too shy then. It was a really good thing he had gotten over that; having hair that was naturally the color of an orange marker and amber eyes didn't exactly encourage people to come up and talk to him.

 

Oh yeah, and there was the fact he was adopted from being a street kid. That was a big part of it too. Exactly how many people would remain calm when being told that the normal-looking fifteen-year-old boy in front of them used to be in a gang? Anyone? No, that's what I thought.

 

Rin finally came shooting down the sidewalk, the expression on her face being equal parts distant and pissed off. She almost ran into Shippo, who wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her from falling over. Rin flung her arms around his neck for the same reason.

 

Isn't fate nice like that?

 

Shippo rested his forehead against hers for a few minutes as he held her close. “Hi,” he whispered finally, smiling softly.

 

“Hi,” she whispered back, the same smile on her face. Then she remembered her skateboard in time to watch it roll into the street and under the wheels of a passing car with a maddening crunch. “Crap!” Rin shouted, pulling away enough to stare at the bits of her broken skateboard. “That was the one you made me!”

 

Shippo stared after it with interest, noting that she wasn't trying to make him let go. “Why Rin, I didn't know you cared so much,” he said, half-teasingly and half wonderingly.

 

“What, were you not paying attention yesterday?” she said crossly, referring to the kiss, still without looking at him. At this point she was more not looking at him because she was nervous than because of her poor beloved skateboard.

 

When Rin finally turned around, she noticed the look in his eyes—the same one Sesshomaru got when he looked at her adopted mother, Midoriko. ((AN: Yes, I know she's dead in the series, but I was kind of running out of random pairings here, so leave me alone.)) It was love there in his eyes, and her heart sped up when she realized it was love for her.

 

Shippo bent his head down slowly, giving her time to jerk away should she so desire. She didn't. The kiss landed where it was supposed to, which was on Rin's slightly parted lips.

 

Rin and Shippo's second kiss was slightly deeper than their first kiss just because there had been a first kiss, and now they knew that neither person minded being kissed. Okay, okay, that both people really, really liked it. Fine, and there were about two years of pent-up love or passion or desire or whatever on both sides.

 

As overused as this is, time seemed to stop as they kissed. It could have been ten minutes, or an hour, or a year, for all they cared. All they knew was that this kiss felt like coming home.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Sango blinked blearily at the ceiling. “What the hell happened last night?” she asked it, wincing at her head's throbbing response. To her credit, even with a hangover it only took her thirty more seconds to realize that she was looking at the wrong sort of ceiling. For instance, the wrong sort of ceiling in this instance is any one that wasn't hers.

 

She went through that thirty-second thing that people do right before they scream and decided not to. Which was a good thing, because right at that second Hojo walked in with very hot coffee, and spilling it on himself would have hurt like hell.

 

“Um, hi,” he said hesitantly. “Do you want some coffee? I think you'll need it, if the headache I had this morning was anything to go by.”

 

Sango stared at him, confusion and anger vying for position in her slightly woozy mind. “Yes, thank you,” she answered at last. She accepted a cup of coffee from him graciously and took a sip. The whole time, Sango just kept staring at Hojo, as if trying to find out exactly what had happened last night from the expression on his face. “What exactly happened last night?”

 

“Nothing like you're thinking,” he said far too quickly. “I was driving you home, but realized halfway to downtown that I had no idea where you lived, and since you were passed out there was no way to ask you. So…” Hojo explained, finally stopping for breath, “I brought you to my place.”

 

Sango's lips twitched. It wasn't much of a smile, but it would do for now. “Thanks, then.”

 

Hojo's smile was real. “You're welcome.”

 

They sat there in awkward silence, sipping coffee on Hojo's bed. Sango realized she was wearing…well, whatever you'd call it, it wasn't what she had been wearing last night. At least she still had her underwear on. If she hadn't, well, Hojo would have needed some form of plastic surgery to repair whatever was left of his face.

 

“Who changed my clothes?” she asked nervously. Not that something like this had never happened before, but at least those times she had kept her clothes on when she woke up, and she had also known where she was. In short, unless he could come up with a damned good explanation there was going to be serious trouble.

 

“My sister. She lives on another floor and I asked her to come help me with someone.” Sango frowned, noting the implication that this happened a lot, and he was quick to clarify. “I've got this…chivalrous streak a mile and a half long. It runs in my family. As such, my sister and I take in…strays…” Mistake. Big mistake. “Not that you are a stray, that is…” His foot was so far in his mouth he was chewing on his kneecap. “That is to say, I really like you, and I don't think you're a stray, and I just wanted to help you.”

 

Her lips twitched again. “Nice save.”

 

Hojo blinked in a nonplussed manner. Was she going to ignore all the other bits? The ones about how he really liked her and stuff? Apparently, as Sango just went back to sipping her coffee and staring out the window.

 

Well then. Now that he had spilled his guts, he could move on to more important things, like breakfast.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Inuyasha was jolted awake by someone banging on the door. He glanced at Miroku snoring beside him and smiled lovingly, something he was quite unused to. The muscles in his face were so surprised they nearly passed out.

 

He ran around the room putting his clothes back on and went to answer the door. It was Kikyo.

 

She peered into the darkness of his room and caught sight of Miroku's sleeping form. “So that's why our relationship never worked; we were both gay,” she mused aloud. “I was just wondering if you and Miroku wanted to join Ayame and me for breakfast or something.

 

“Um. Sure?” Inuyasha replied, his mind reeling from the sheer irony of the whole thing. It was like the Twilight Zone was coming after them all, or something.

 

“Great. Meet us in half an hour in the lobby.” She smiled at the man she used to love. “My treat.”

 

With that, she walked away, leaving him staring after her looking like he had been hit by a very small hurricane.

 

Miroku came up behind him and gently pushed up his bottom jaw. “You're catching flies,” he chided. Inuyasha turned to him, noting the slightly fearful look in his eyes.

 

“What is it, Roku-chan?” he asked worriedly. “Is something wrong?”

 

“I'm just afraid you'll realize that you're straight after all,” the other man muttered, looking away. Inuyasha hugged him, resting his chin on Miroku's shoulder.

 

“That will never happen, okay?”

 

Miroku nodded uncertainly, wrapping his arms around the waist of his lover. Inuyasha could still feel his worry in the muscles of his back.

 

“It's going to be okay.” Miroku nodded more surely this time, and Inuyasha gave him one final squeeze before pulling away. “Now we have to get dressed for breakfast.” The lecherous grin on Miroku's face was priceless as he closed the door.

 

Shortly afterwards, there was a thwapping sound. “Not now, you lecher!”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Kagome was walking around her house like a ghost, still in her wedding dress and with tear-streaked makeup. She was lucky enough to be one of the women that can cry beautifully. Unfortunately, she abused the privilege, leaving the rest of them that can't at a disadvantage.

 

She had cried on the phone to her mother, her friends, even Kikyo. Her brother had been screening her calls. Sango hadn't gotten home last night and she wasn't answering her cell phone. She called Hojo, figuring he knew what it was like, but was stupid enough to tell him this and so he hung up on her. After that he hadn't bothered to answer the phone and had changed the message to “I'm screening calls from idiotic bitches at the moment, although I'm not sure they know what the word `idiotic' means. If you're a perfectly normal person than leave a message and I will eventually call you back.”

 

She hadn't known what the word “idiotic” meant and was completely unable to believe that someone had called her—her!—a bitch. But at least she quit leaving him messages.

 

The guy who owned the house next door kept coming over and giving her things. He was roughly eighty-something. Kagome was too depressed to realize he was hitting on her. If she had, she probably would have been flattered, which was kind of scary beyond reason.

 

No one was paying attention to her inside her house, so she decided to get dressed and go somewhere else. Like a bar. Guys paid attention to girls in bars, especially if the girls looked hot; and she planned to look hot. And anyway, once she got some other guy to marry her she could use her money to do what she had always wanted to: take over the makeup industry.

 

Kagome wasn't as stupid as she had seemed. She had been toning down her intelligence for ages now to get along with Inuyasha and Co. But now, the real Kagome was coming back out of the closet, and boy, was she ever pissed.

 

She walked out of the door, wearing a dark red half-of-a-half shirt that stopped just under her breasts and had long sleeves that came down to her knuckles. Her pants were black leather and so tight that had she had change in her pockets, if the pants had had pockets anyway, which they didn't, anyone who wanted to would have been able to count the change. The shoes she was wearing were of the not-to-be-taken-off variety.

 

Kagome put on her makeup, did her hair, grabbed her car keys, and made sure she had the I.D. that gave her age: twenty-four. Then she opened the door and went out to take the male world by storm.

 

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AN: I don't actually hate Kagome, although it may seem like I do in this one. I'm just using someone as the butt of all the jokes. Although I may have to change it to Kouga, since I gave Kagome a brain. Oh well.

 

Review, my lovelies…