InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Rock Candy ❯ Prolouge ( Prologue )

Prologue

 

Before the fame and before the record company. Before the fortune and before the screaming fans. Before the recording studio…before everything.

 

I could have told you I was a regular fifteen year old girl living in an old shrine with my mother, grandfather, and little brother. I could have told you I went to high school, and had friends and a crush on the hottest guy in town. I could have told you that each day after school I would go to Wac Donolds with my three best friends, Eri, Arimi, and Yuka and just hang out with them.

 

Simple, right?

 

Of course.

 

A simple life-style for a simple girl.

 

Oh, how the tables have turned.

 

But before my life is unraveled to you, let me show you how things used to be.

 

It was just another normal day after school in Wac Donolds, talking to Arimi, Eri, and Yuka about the usual things going on.

 

Eri took a sip from her Diet Pepsi and said, with a sly grin on her face, “Hey Kagome, I saw Hojo staring at you during first period algebra!”

 

“Oh my God! Hojo?” Yuka's eyes grew wide, “He is so cute! And really nice, too!”

 

Arimi nodded in agreement, “I know! Your so lucky, Kagome!”

 

The three girls sighed dreamily and started to blush, caught up in their own hopeless romantic day dreams.

 

“Oh, please!” I rolled my eyes, taking a bite of my cheeseburger and saying in between bites, “He is sweet and all, but…”

 

But I already had the hots for Kouga, the super sexy lead guitarist and vocals for the local high school band, Bloody Knuckles. I continued imagining his handsome face…his well-built and chiseled body…the way he cocks his eyebrow…

 

Arimi waved her hand up and down in front my spell bound face, “Hel~lo! Earth to Kagome?”

 

I snapped back to reality, “Oh! Sorry! What was I saying again?”

 

Yuka sighed, “You were saying why exactly you didn't like the cutest, sweetest guy in our grade.”

 

Well, I couldn't tell them it was because I had a crush on some bad ass guitar player! They were probably going to tell me to stay away from him and that he was no good for me. There was no point in causing a scene.

 

So I searched for a way to change the subject, “Umm…” then I heard Killing Me Softly by Lauren Hill, in a midi version, come onto the background music of the fast food restaurant, “Our song is on!”

 

Eri smiled, “Oh yeah!” she grabbed a French fry and used it as her pretend microphone, “I heard he sang a good song.” Eri sang in a squeaky tone. Nothing real special or attention grabbing, “I heard that he had style.”

 

Yuka cut in this time, holding an invisible microphone, “And so I came to see him and listen for a while,” This was nothing personal, but Yuka was the most awful singer in the universe. Not that it mattered or anything, we were just messing around.

 

“And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes,” Arimi sang piercingly and exaggerated the lyrics. Believe me, it can become very annoying.

 

Now it was my turn to shine.

 

“Strumming my pain with his fingers,” I boomed in a loud and powerful voice, “Singing my life with his words,”

 

This time Arimi, Eri, and Yuka joined in creating an identical and balanced choir, “Killing me softly with his song,”

 

Then I went solo, “Killing me softly…with his song. Telling my whole life with his words. Killing me softly…”

 

Yuka, Arimi, and Eri completed the chorus, “…with his song,”

 

Then we all burst into endless giggles.

 

“We suck!” Eri said amid laughter.

 

“What are you talking about?” Arimi ordered, half chuckling and half demanding, “Kagome is a terrific singer!”

 

“Yea, I wasn't talking about her!” Eri said as the laughter began to die down.

 

“Kagome is your regular Utada Hikaru!” Yuka said, smiling.

 

Arimi wrinkled her nose, “Heck no! She's more of a Courtney Love and a Mika Nakashima mixed together!”

 

“Are you insane?” Eri criticized, “She's a-”

 

“Brace Slick and Ayumi Hamasaki,” A charming and mischievous voice said.

 

“Yeah!” Eri agreed amiably.

 

Yuka, Arimi, Eri and I all turned to the unknown source of the voice.

 

“Hey ladies,” A boyish, sly-faced young man-probably in his late teens or early twenties-with jet-black hair pulled into a short ponytail said suavely.

 

All except for me sighed dreamily and gazed into his face.

 

I raised an irksome eyebrow, “May we help you?”

 

“Jeez, Kag,” The young man smiled sheepishly, “Is that how you treat your Uncle Miroku after not seeing him for two years?”

 

I rolled my eyes, “First of all, your way, way too young to be called my uncle. What are you…four…five years older than me?” I said in a matter-of-factly way, “And second of all, just because you worked with my sister…” I paused for a moment, frowning deeper, “…doesn't make you my uncle!”

 

Ah, yes…let me explain about…

 

…my twin sister…

 

Kikyo.

 

She was everything I wanted to be.

 

Beautiful, smart, kind, graceful, fun, loving, compassionate, clever, EVERYTHING a girl wanted to be.

 

But the gift of hers that I loved the most was her voice. Her lovely voice that put me to sleep when I was crying and chased away my stress. Her voice was nothing like mine. My voice is a bit rough and quite powerful. It didn't even compare to the soft, resonating sound that came out of Kikyo's mouth.

 

Kikyo was discovered one day at our school talent show. Miroku, a talent agent, was strolling around town looking for some entertainment (it was his first time in our town) when he decided to check out our talent show. He saw Kikyo and heard her angelic voice. She instantly got signed to his record company and things just kept going uphill from there.

 

She got real famous. I saw her on posters in the CD store first. Then I started hearing her on the radio. Before I knew it she was a guest on every popular television show and on a poster in every kid's room.

 

Everything was still the same for me, despite the instant stardom that exploded in my sister's face. I was still known as “Kikyo's little sister”.

 

Then I heard on TV that she would be going on tour with some popular boy band (I wouldn't know their name. I'm not really into the whole pop getup, I'm more of a rocker, believe it or not).

 

So before she went on her two-year-long tour to enhance her fame and money, she decided to spend time with us before she would be gone for so long that I didn't know if we would recognize her anymore. She dropped out of school, by the way. “I don't want anything to interfere with my dream,” she said confidently. It was such a shame, though. She was so smart. Straight As and president of Student Council.

 

She spent a week in our house. On the day before she was going to get on her tour bus and drive off to an airplane to Europe, she told me we would go shopping. “I'm going to be a millionaire by the time I get on tour,” she laughed merrily, “I could buy you a mansion if you wanted.” Kikyo offered Mom and Gramps a mansion but, of course, they refused. Nothing could tear them apart from our cozy shrine. Not even a free mansion.

 

We were just finishing up our shopping spree as we walked out of Hot Topic (the things there are so expensive I usually only go on my birthday or on Christmas) and Kikyo had just finished badgering me about how much better I would look in Abercromie and Gucci and whatnot. “Sometimes I wonder if we're really related,” joked Kikyo, “let alone twins!” It was true. Although we looked very much alike and identical, our personalities were as different as night and day. Kikyo was half-girly and half-good girl. She liked pink, was captain of the cheerleading team and watched chick flicks on a daily basis. But she never stayed out late and she always listened to authority and did community service and crap like that.

 

I, on the other hand, am a rocker, believe it or not. Not hardcore, or anything. I mean, I don't have piercings everywhere and I'm not really much of a rebel or an activist. I listen to emo and some punk. Overall, I despise cheerleaders (my sister is an exception), I enjoy anime, video games and action movies, and I play the guitar.

 

Anyway, it was getting dark and we didn't think we could make to dinner, even if we ran. So Kikyo gave me some quarters and told me to call up home and tell them we would just eat at some restaurant. So I handed the bags I was holding to Kikyo and walked to the nearest pay phone.

 

Kikyo accidentally dropped one of her shopping bags and a small cylinder glass container of perfume rolled out onto the street.

 

When Kikyo walked out to get it, I was just hanging up the payphone. I turned around and spotted a sleek black Porsche zooming past at what seemed like a million miles per hour.

 

Then she got hit.

 

At first, I ran over to her bleeding body and put her head on my lap. Then I just held her head and kept rocking back and forth. I screamed for help and large masses of tears were falling into her tangled and bloody hair. It took me a few minutes before I collected enough sanity to run to the payphone and dial 911.

 

I remember just holding onto her fragile body and screaming and sobbing. Then I heard sirens and they took her away and drove off. Mom and Sota were crying and Gramps had a horribly somber look on his face as he tried to comfort us.

 

We went to the hospital, and the doctor said she was still alive, but in a deep coma. It hurt everyone to see her hooked up to all those dialyses.

 

They never did catch the asshole behind the wheel that made my family's life a living hell. It was a hit and run.

 

But that was a whole two years ago. Yup, she's been in a coma for two years. None of our family will ever get over it, but at least a small part of us has moved on.

 

Anyway…let's get on with our previous story.

 

I rolled my eyes, “First of all, your way, way too young to be called my uncle. What are you…four…five years older than me?” I said in a matter-of-factly way, “And second of all, just because you worked with my sister…” I paused for a moment, frowning deeper, “…doesn't make you my uncle!”

 

I saw Miroku's lively eyes flicker with depression for a slight moment.

 

“Thanks for the warm greeting…” Miroku muttered under his breath.

 

My now vacant eyes scanned my half-eaten burger. I had suddenly lost my appetite.

 

“I heard you sing, Kag,” Miroku said with a lopsided grin, “You have an awesome voice. Just what we're looking for.”

 

I sighed, “Let me guess,” I imitated one of those rich famous girls with fake French accents, “Oh, dah-lin! We're going to make you famous! You'll have money! And a mansion! And a brand new cah!” I flung my arms in the air, “It will be le magnific! You'll be just like…” I suddenly realized what I was about to say and put my head down so that my eyes disappeared under my long bangs. In a dark and melancholy way, I practically whispered, “…your sister.”

 

“Well, sorry Miroku but I don't want it,” I said in an icy way, “So just go back to your big mansion in the city,”

 

Miroku's expression went from slightly amused to downcast and sympathetic and now a bit irked. He knew this was his cue to take off, but he wasn't the kind to take no for an answer, “Aw, c'mon, Kag!” he persuaded, “Lately I've been so bored at my vacation home, which you know isn't very far from here. I have a recording studio in it and everything!”

 

“Oh, so you just want me for entertainment?!” I demanded in a loud voice.

 

“It'll be fun! For both of us! I promise.” Miroku gave a perfect smile.

 

I almost pouted, displeased at Miroku's persistence. “Why are you here again, anyway? After two years?” I asked, half out of curiosity and half to change the subject.

 

“Eh…” Miroku scratched the back of his head, “Girlfriend problems…she…eh…um…”

 

I rolled my eyes, “You cheated on her and now she's out to kill you,” I tried to say it disgustingly, “Right?”

 

“Hey! I did not cheat on her…I just…” Miroku searched for a synonym for `cheat' to make things sound better than they sounded now, “It's natural for people to be attracted to other people….and…I just….well…it runs in the family, okay!”

 

I looked away, obviously irritated at Miroku's presence.

 

Miroku took the hint and headed for the door after saying, “Just think about it, okay Kag?”

 

When Miroku was out the door, Eri, Yuka, and Arimi directed their attention from Miroku's face to mine.

 

I turned to my friends, with a hint of annoyance in my almost somber tone, “What?!” I demanded of the three perplexed eyes staring at me.

 

Once they heard my obviously pissed voice, they held back the truckload of questions they were about to dump on me.

 

I sighed and mumbled loud enough for my friends to hear, “I'm gonna go now, guys,”

 

They all nodded in unison and allowed me to go on my way. I was not in the mood to have fun anymore. A sudden wave of regret and depression washed over me at the sudden mention of my sister. I usually can handle the mention of her name but I hate thinking about the accident and it's never fun to dance with devil's past.

 

So I grabbed my school bag and walked down the side walk to try and get my mind off of it.

 

I didn't want go home. I needed some time to cool off.

 

I needed to do something to cool off.

 

I started walking faster…and faster…and faster…until I was jogging…faster…and faster…then I started running.

 

I don't know why. I guess it was my way of relieving my frustrations.

 

I just ran through crowds and crossed streets without even looking for cars.

 

I kept running with all my might and power, thinking about all the crappy things about life and about my sister and about…

 

BOOM!

 

THUD!

 

CRASH!

 

Those were, among many other sounds, the result of a very disastrous crash.

 

Both victims were sitting on the cement.

 

“Owww…” I moaned while rubbing my head.

 

“Jesus Christ…” an aggravated voice murmured.

 

“I'm sorry about that…” I apologized while trying to get up.

 

“Your damn right, you are!” the voice infuriatingly said without looking up.

 

Both me and the annoyed voice got up.

 

Then we locked eyes.

 

My eyes instantly widened in horror.

 

It was Kouga I had just run into.

 

Shit.

 

While I had a plainly embarrassed and stunned look on my face Kouga looked somewhat amused as he said,

 

“Well, hello, gorgeous,”

 

I blushed deep red. I know I shouldn't of gotten excited because he says that to all girls. But…oh, come on! You would've blushed, too, if someone as hot as Kouga even talked to you!

 

“Y-yeah,” I managed to stutter, “I...I'll be l-leaving now…”

 

I turned around and tried to beat it, but he grabbed my wrist.

 

“Hey,” he said demandingly, “You're not going anywhere, girly,”

 

I turned around with a quizzical and panicked look clear across my face, “Eh?”

 

“Look!” he picked up his guitar and showed it to me.

 

I turned from deep red to pale white.

 

“Oh…crap…”

 

“Oh crap is right!”

 

“I am so sorry…”

 

“Well that's real nice, honey, but sorry doesn't fix guitars!”

 

That's right. When I crashed into Kouga his guitar went flying in the air and then became a complete and utter wreck once it crashed to the ground.

 

`Oh great,' I thought sarcastically, `A great way to add to this terrific day…'

 

“I-I'll promise to…” I thought of some way to make it up to him. I had no money. Whenever I get some money I spend it on manga books or CDs.

 

And there's no way I could ask my mom or Gramps for money…even though I know they'd give me the money, I'd never have the heart to accept it. And I doubt a ten-year-old like Souta would have enough money to buy Kouga a brand new guitar which was clearly what Kouga needed.

 

“You'll promise to what?” Kouga rudely interrupted my train of thought.

 

“I'll give you the money to buy a brand new guitar!” I heard myself exclaim.

 

Kouga obviously was not convinced, “Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

 

“I'll get the money,” I went on, “Give me two weeks…three weeks at the most. I swear you'll have enough money for a brand new…even better guitar,”

 

“That'd be great, but…”

 

“But…?”

 

“My band has a gig in one week. So how am I gonna play without a guitar, huh? Do you suggest I air guitar?” he said, voice dripping in sarcasm.

 

I stifled a giggle, “You can…”

 

No…no…no…no…please, no…

 

“You can use my guitar,” I heard my mouth say.

 

NO! NO! NO! My mind screeched in silent horror while my mouth betrayed it.

 

Kouga frowned but said, “Fine,” he tilted his head towards his car, “I have band practice in an hour. I'll drive you home so you can pick up that guitar and give it to me,”

 

I let out a breath of relief, “Okay,” and for some reason beyond my knowing I smiled.

 

We walked to his shiny black Mustang convertible and he opened the door for me.

 

Oh my God! He opened the door for me! My legs almost melted under me and I stumbled.

 

Then guess what?

 

He caught my fall!

 

Oh my God…did I mention how hot he was?

 

Anyways…I sat in the passenger seat and let the wind blow through my hair.

 

I kept glancing at him. I couldn't stop.

 

When he caught me staring, he gave a cocky smile, “Like what you see?”

 

I just blushed beet red and looked out the car.

 

When we pulled into my neighborhood, he slowed down and I pointed to him which house was mine.

 

I hopped out of the car and ran into my room, grabbing my beautiful deep blue electric guitar. One of my most prized possessions. It took me three years of birthday and Christmas money and restraining in buying manga and CDs to afford to get it. It was my pride and joy.

 

“What have I gotten myself into?” I said to myself as I walked out the house and hopped back into Kouga's car.

 

“Here,” I carefully handed him the guitar.

 

“I'll miss you…” I thought to myself, towards my guitar.

 

Kouga smiled, “Thanks, babe,” he eyed the guitar, “This sure is in good condition,”

 

I just nodded mindlessly trying to soak in the fact that I might have to live without my guitar for more than five days.

 

“I guess I'll head home now,” I said involuntarily.

 

I opened the car door, stepped out, and then closed it. Kouga delicately placed my guitar in the floor of his back seat.

 

I turned to walk away.

 

“Hey. One more thing,”

 

I turned around, and facing him, raised an eyebrow.

 

“If you don't get my money in three weeks, I'm keeping your guitar,”

 

Saying that, he sped off leaving me standing there, eye's wide and complexion pale with horror.

 

“Crap!” I cursed to no one in particular, “What the hell have I gotten myself into…how am I gonna pay for his guitar?”

 

Then, as if something in my head stepped on a landmine, an idea exploded in my mind:

 

Miroku.