InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Romancing The Shikon ❯ Romancing The Stone ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: AlmaGemela
Kagome Higurashi, world class romance novelist, puts the finishing touches to her latest tale of intrigue. Soon after, the spinning world of circumstance begins to push her into a tale that turns out to be much stranger than any fiction.

Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Adventure | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 08.06.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 6.7K | Visits: 411 | Status: Work In Progress

Disclaimer: This in no way, shape, or form belongs under the legal ownership of myself or my nutty roommate. InuYasha and company belong to their creator, Rumiko Takahashi (a blessing in disguise, I'm sure). Just as the 80's movie `Romancing The Stone' belongs respectively to its creators.
 
I'm only throwing them all together for some good, clean (and even dirty) fun. No profit is or ever will be made.
 
WARNING: If you have no desire whatsoever to read adult material (limes, lemons, pinapples…uh…you get the picture…) then scat! This piece is rated for a very mature audience.
 
A/N: This will be a Inuyasha/Kagome with a hint of Sango/Miroku…bear with me here…
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The spider-like limbs constricting her movements brushed silkily against her flesh. Pressing in an intimate, disgusting fashion. Her breath hissed from under her teeth as she sucked in air. Naraku let slip a sinister smile; a leering, withering thing. It made her flesh crawl.
“I'll ask you again...”He drawled wickedly. She narrowed her eyes at him, anger and fear warring across her features in a wash of bitterness.
“...Where...is the jewel...?” A sudden movement caught her eye. Her cinnamon orbs darted to the rustling brush just beyond Naraku's silhouette. A flicker of hope splintered through her demeanor. The echo of a smile kissed her lips.
“I'll never tell...you filthy bastard.”
His response came as a crushing pressure felt about her already wounded body. Kikyo chocked in a breath, and air became a rare delicacy as Naraku's tentacles blistered her very skin. Her complexion was paling, and her strength waning as she gathered the last of her miko powers into her fists. Her eyes were failing her fast, yet a smile continued to ripen upon her young, cherry lips.
Chilling purity began seeping from Kikyo's now pink-wreathed hands. Naraku's foul language and screams were drowned out by a roar as it split through the very air. The destruction of torn debris, rent from the very earth, followed in its wake. Another vicious yell, touched by a battle cry, was given throat from the Miko's savior as he came.
“Dragon Strike!” Steel on gravel scrapped amid the momentum of chaos; a shrill, aching sound driven by rage.
Another torrential explosion was felt, further destroying Naraku's remains. Kikyo shielded herself as best she could from the blow, collapsing amid her enemy's entrails. Ebony darkness claimed her sight, but not before they blurrily glimpsed her beloved: an inu-youkai, bedecked with silver-white hair, rippeling muscles branched with tattooed magenta stripes, and eyes that looked as though they had swallowed the very sun...Her mind stirred briefly as consciousness left her, as his lips captured hers upon reaching her side, locking her in a supportive embrace.
It was over...and he had come for her. Her lover and savior: both in life and by love. She was the fire to his ice, mete in measure by the strength of their passion for each other...a forbidden love between a tai-youkai and a miko…But no more. They had destroyed their one true enemy, kept the terrible and beautiful Jewel hidden, and could live together forever onward as peace continued to reign thereafter.
 
She fell into a dream laced state of comatose, in which she recalled a previous evening, when the clawed hands of her trusted and beloved Sesshoumaru had brushing heatedly against her, for the first of many times...
The End
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Kagome sniffled, swiping happily at her tears as she swiftly tapped away on her typewriter. Ah, the conclusive end to her latest novel. She couldn't be more pleased. It was the last of a rather successful romance series involving a bewitched jewel and an evil hanyou born of the thief, Onigumo. Spiced, of course, with the guardian miko of the jewel and the tai-youkai of the Western Lands sworn to protect her. It was a tale of mystery and intrigue wherein a forbidden romance took place beyond the guise of betrayal.
She chuckled softly to herself through her tears. Quietly admitting to herself that the latter character was a bit of an exaggerated reflection of herself. … though she'd never admit it out loud. Just a fancy, really…All of her more honed features blended together with experience. Sure she wasn't Kikyo…She grinned slightly. Yes…she was more like…oh, say…her reincarnation of sorts.
She tried sighing happily, but it came out more as a mucous- snuffling snort. Rubbing her nose on the cozy sleeve of her sweatshirt, she removed the final text from the typewriting scroll and set it on the upturned pages of her manuscript. Her smile of victory faded slightly as she glanced at the abused sleeve. Definitely not one of her finer moments.
`Eew….now might be a good time to hunt for some tissues…'
Stretching up from her chair, she scrubbed at her face with a hand. A little embarrassed to be adorned with a rather snotty, unattractive nose thanks in part to her emotional enthusiasm. At times like these, she was grateful to be alone…if only a little. Shaking her head, she shuffled around the apartment, hunting for Kleenex.
Heck, paper towels wouldn't be that bad of a find, either. Tucking back couch pillows, scouring coffee tables, checking the kitchen…If anything, all she found were sticky post-its with her own absently zealous scrawl `Buy More Tissue.' She rolled her eyes at her own previous antics of genius. `Okay, to the bathroom, then!' She strode through the room, making her way across the apartment.
It was a residence mainly hued with light crème and various blues. She had simple tastes, and it reflected in her style of decoration. She spared no expense when it came to her other luxuries of living, though. Mainly concerning food. Kagome could remember a time, not more than a few years ago, when she had just been scrapping by in a cramped living space while surviving on ramen. Ah, the nostalgia of those far flung days…her stomach may have felt empty amidst the sea of cheap noodles, but her heart had certainly been full. Moving to San Francisco, away from her family in Japan, had certainly not been easy.
 
But there had certainly been rewards. Following her dreams of heading out and making her way in the world on her own reaped benefits she could never have imagined. Here she was: a famous romance novelist, her books transcribed into twenty-one different languages worldwide, weaving together words of delectable intrigue.
 
For some reason or other, the west seemed captivated with her work. All thanks, she admitted, to Jii-chan and his incessant, rambling stories about the history and radical legends surrounding their home: The Higurashi Shrine. What she had once taken for granted while growing up was now a resilient source of brilliance for her tales. Her best sellers: `The Burning Noh Mask,' `Under The Goshinboku,' and `Onigumo,' could be directly traced from her unlikely living source of inspiration. Still, even to this day when she called home, he would spout off tales on some random tangent. Good ol' jii-chan…
Upon hastily reaching the lavatory, she found nothing but another post-it-note. `Rats…' She glared accusingly at the paper as if it were to blame, and then shrugged.
“Well, waste not, want not!” With that, she blew her nose using the post-it, and went about her business. Humming a small tune to herself, she commenced walking to the kitchen, knowing a certain silver-eared companion wouldn't mind a little celebration feast with her. She smiled knowingly; she knew exactly what to fix him as she neared the dining area.
“ Right, celebration time! I finished another one, baby, and you know what that means!” A meatball of a tabby cat padded into the kitchen at the sound of her promising tone of voice. She grinned down at him, reaching into the fridge for the can of tuna, and maybe a leaf of parsley. “C'mon Buyo, let's go all out tonight, huh?”
She dished it out into a delicate wine glass, setting it down next to the eager kitty's water bowl. She grabbed herself a grape soda, grinning happily as furry light of her life began to chow down. She wrinkled her nose, musing to herself as she sipped her `carbonated juice.' Some people might have enjoyed a rich liquor in face of such victory as hers. But…Kagome really just didn't have a head for alcohol. Sure, she had some from time to time, stashed away in the shelves, and she did drink socially. Yet, getting drunk alone, as opposed to going out on a wildly romantic date and then indulging, just wasn't the same. Besides, next to a lovely strawberry daiquiri, grape soda was her favorite—and hardly as expensive. Plus, there was no cover charge!
She swished the contents of her can idly, wondering how soon she could expect to meet with her publisher. A sudden knock at her door caught her wavering attention. Startled from her reverie, she started toward it, only to trip over Buyo as she did.
“You goofy cat,” she scolded lightly, well aware that her tabby wasn't entirely at fault here. She had placed his dinner directly on her path to the door, anyway. Stumbling to regain her balance, she made it to the entrance and opened for the unexpected visitor. A man drabbed down in a brown uniform, the insignia UPS patterned across it, held out a package equipped with a clipboard and pen.
 
“Please sign here.” She blinked. She certainly hadn't been expecting anything. Maybe it was a little something sent from home…? Giving the delivery man a bemused smile, she reached for the pen.
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A resounding `click' informed Kagome that she had in fact successfully locked her door. Humming a little tune, she absently stuffed her keys into her purse. Her eyes roved across the bright silver numbers that pronounced `316' across her door's surface before starting down the hall. The quirk of a smile made itself apparent as she recognized a familiar figure coming up the stairwell. She scurried down the separating five steps and gently latched onto the elder lady's arm, taking her grocery bag as she did.
“Hello, Kaede-bachan! How are you this afternoon?” The older woman focused her good eye on the chipper young lady, a good-humored sparkle alighting it.
“Aye, fine enough my dear. And thyself?” Kagome shrugged nonchalantly, refusing to meet Kaede's steadfast gaze as she helped her neighbor up the small remaining flight of stairs with her bag of groceries. They headed toward her accommodations down the hall at `322'.
Kaede didn't miss this, yet chose not to comment. For some reason or other, Kagome was in good spirits, and she was grateful for this. The child had been through so much, after what had occurred with her brother, Souta…
Her attention was whisked away as she espied a large, familiar purse. Tucked full with a bound folder next to what looked like a UPS package. A genuine smile creased and crinkled about the old woman's face.
“Ah, I see you've finally finished it!” Kagome smiled shyly, loosening her grip so that her companion might unlock her own door.
“Yes, I did. I'm off to go meet with my publisher, actually.” Kaede's door squeaked open as she stepped inside.
“Oh, then I shan't keep ye then.” The grand-motherly woman smiled indulgently, a wicked look coming to her eye, “unless ye be wantin' to escape the ever-insistent Yuka?” Kagome got notably flustered at that comment.
“Oh, Kaede-bachan, come on. It's not…she's not…that bad. Her heart is in the right place…and, so are her intentions.” She looked over at the ceiling, pretending she wasn't looking like a favorable impression of a cherry. Kaede stared at her.
“If'n ye say so.” Kagome gawked at her. Then joined the elder woman in an erupting fit of giggles. While Yuka Umezu was a talented editor and a skilled publicist with impeccable social caliber, her meddling within Kagome's personal life was hardly helpful. For some reason or other, the woman was convinced that she aught to assist Kagome in finding a boyfriend. Too bad that the guys she always set her up with ended up turning out to be…well…less than savory.
Just because she was a romance novelist, didn't mean she was constantly on the lookout for a paramour. In fact, to use her friend Eri's turn of phrase, she usually `strayed away from actual hands-on, mouth-on research'. She promised herself that, when she finally did consummate a relationship, it would be…well, forever. A bit naïve, yeah…but…she was a hopeless romantic. Check that: a hopeful romantic.
It almost seemed too bad that she needed a reason to have sex, since the men Yuka constantly hooked her up with seemed only to need a place. Truth be told, it was very tempting in the present moment at hand to just high-tail it back to her apartment, as she stood there giggling with Kaede. Faced with a bitterly awkward aftermath of a business lunch: wherein Yuka began discussing her personal life. Not a pretty picture. Not in the least. But, like it or not, she had no choice. Best not to put off the inevitable, then.
“Well, bye Kaede. I guess I better get going!” She chirped.
“Be safe, Kagome!” Kaede called out, shutting the door gingerly only after watching the young girl move off like a sprite. Kagome's smile never wavered as she scampered down the corridor and the stairs, hand on the railing as she descended. Nothing, but nothing, could ruin this day for her. It was only going to be as bad as always, and so that wasn't something that ought to phase her. Floating as she was on cloud nine, she failed to notice the stranger passing by, his feral, ice blue eyes calculating as she left the building. Cautiously, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention, he headed up the stairs, toward apartment 316.
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“...So...What do you think?” Yuka bit her lip distractedly, eyes roving over the manuscript in random patterns. Kagome continued to sip at her lemonade calmly, readying herself for the upcoming rebuke.
“Not...quite what I expected.” Yuka admitted, gently setting down her client's work.
“Is that a good thing or bad thing?” Kagome mused aloud. Yuka cracked a grin at her, stabbing her fork into her Baja Salad.
“ A bit of both, I suppose.”
Kagome sighed, shrugging softly.
“All right, you've lost me.”
“Well...then we're even.” Kagome eyed her companion sharply at that comment, commanding the woman in front of her to elaborate. She did so, albeit cautiously to save the young woman's feelings.
“The story, Kagome...it's not really at all I expected. I mean...it's very similar to your earlier work.” An audible clunk made itself known on the table, causing Yuka to blink as she eyed her friend banging her head against the table in frustration.
“That's because it's a part of a trilogy. This is the conclusive story line...The first one had to do with how Naraku came into being because of the greed of a thief by the name of Onigumo, the second one-“
Yuka raised her hand slightly in apology, chewing reflectively on a leaf of lettuce before interrupting.
“No, no! That's not what I meant! I know all about the first two volumes in the series...”, she was feeling as frustrated in expressing her critique as Kagome obviously was in understanding it.
“Well, then what did you mean?” asked an exasperated Kagome.
“What I mean...” She paused to impale a ripe tomato, picking her words carefully. For the moment, she for once decided on her words carefully. What she was about to say had been building up for weeks...boiling within the back-burner of her mind.
“...Is that you usually seem to write about this...Sesshoumaru ...guy...in all of your stories.” She eyed her friend, making sure she was being heard. The problem with being honest was that not everyone really wanted to hear the truth...especially in this business. An applicable lesson to life, Yuka decided. Still, it didn't make her job any easier with what she had to say, and considering who she was saying it to. Yuka was many things, but a poor judge of literature was not one of them.
“ You know the type...mysterious, strong-willed, confident...” Kagome blushed softly, folding her napkin distractedly, “...emotionally constipated...” the writer choked for a minute, then leapt into defense mode as Yuka continued, unabated, “ utterly gorgeous, powerful, and downright...predictably boring.”
“He is NOT emotionally constipated” She fired out shrilly, then regretted it immediately as many people within the restaurant seemed to pause, as well as stare, following that hollered comeback. Yuka sighed, ignoring the pointed looks at their table; she was used to attention, no matter the cause of its source. It was just one of her ways.
“Honey, you could have fooled me. He's really direct and to the point. I mean...sure...we'd all like our men to be that conventional. But some of us really appreciate the opposite sex to be a bit more on the aggressive side,” Kagome rolled her eyes at that comment. Yuka's consistent `blind date' attempts made that glaringly clear. The woman seemed to adore pushy men.
“But...why always model your main man after the same type of guy? Why not make someone who's a little more prone to making mistakes, a little more impulsive and wildly romantic?” Kagome sighed, the mist of her breath frosting her lemonade glass as she took another drink. She was beginning to wonder if maybe she should have gone for that earlier offered margarita...
“ I guess I'll think about it.” It was Yuka's turn to roll her eyes as she gathered the manuscript portfolio, then dug into her wallet to pay the bill.
“Yeah, sure you will. You're really stuck on finding this `Sesshoumaru” guy in the flesh, aren't you?” Kagome grinned impudently, masking her second blush.
“Hey, no harm in dreaming!” Yuka shook her head, returning the smile.
“I know sweetie, but are you really going to hold out for nothing more than a dream? What if he never comes along…” Suddenly, her eyes widened slightly as they caught sight of someone. She leaned over to Kagome, looking like a chesire cat that found a dollop of cream as she whispered conspiratorially.
“Kagome...I do believe there is an excellent specimen checking you out...” Her client peeked a quick look behind her, then returned her eyes to the forefront, shrugging dully.
“He's not really my type...” Yuka snorted at the excuse.
“Oh come one, Kags. He looks...hot.” Kagome kept her comments about that one to herself, choosing instead to ignore both Yuka and the goofy smiling waiter she had been eyeing. His nametag sported the name `Hojo,' his hair was a foppish, sandy black, and while admittedly his briefly glanced over features had been...appreciative...she just couldn't bring herself around. There was no passionate attraction for her even in the slightest. He kind of reminded her of her brother…Yuka sighed in defeat, patting her friend's shoulder as they headed out and away from the general hustle and bustle of the restaurant.
“You'll never guess what I got this afternoon.” Kagome stated quietly, glad to be out of earshot of the restaurant. Some of its patrons had never stopped staring after their verbal spar. Yuka shot her a curious look, encouraging her to elaborate. She had to swallow first, fishing out the package for her confidant's inspection.
“Who's it from?” Yuka handled the thin package carefully, and then spotted the name stitched in careful handwriting at its left corner. “Oh.” She handed it back, looking after it sadly as her friend gently pushing it back into her enormous handbag.
“Souta must have sent this just before…yeah.” She trailed off. Yuka frowned.
“Has there been any more news regarding the disappearance?”
“ I'm not sure. Last I heard from Mama, the authorities still hadn't found any trace of him. Rin refuses to leave, unless she finds some sort of clue...” Yuka nodded understandingly. Souta's mysterious disappearance, as upsetting as it was, was being taken especially hard by his fiancé. That was to say nothing of the fact that Kagome had nearly flown out on the next plane to Rin's side. Yet Kaede had kept her from making any rash decisions. Especially until something concrete came up. Rin, however, was as stubborn as ever. She refused to come home without him. No amount of pleading from Kagome or any other member of the Higurashi family could convince her otherwise.
 
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Enticing. That was the word that first came to mind. Even though her scent barely lingered about him in the hallway, his recognition of its potency was still present, if nothing else. Shrugging his shoulders, he set to work.
It had taken but a moment for him to pick the lock. Simple: hack into the device by nature's own burglary set...his claws. An audible `click' informed him that he had succeeded. Bracing himself, furtively scanning the area for any nosey neighbors, he let himself into her apartment.
Gods! Her scent was even more staggering than before; those were fleeting, teasing tendrils compared to the now thoroughly drenched atmosphere. He breathed in deeply, crystalline eyes screwing themselves shut in silent, divine pleasure. A sigh rumbled past his throat, eyes opening with a new, intense focus. Right, he had a job to do.
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Souta and Rin had flown out to Columbia as a means of conducting some work on an excavation site sponsored by the anthropology departments of several linked universities. It had been an opportunity for the students to get a real sense of their field. Souta's sudden and violent disappearance from the area had left quite a shock. The project had all but been abandoned, the safety of the students being a given top priority after the incident occurred.
A ransom note hadn't even turned up, so that leaned the authorities more so toward the conclusion that Souta, while missing, was probably dead. Rin, possibly motivated by guilt, refused to return home like the other anthropology student volunteers and professionals. She remained on site, or so the Higurashi family had last heard. The girl had reasoned that it was understaffed, and she could keep her eyes open for…something…anything. There was still that haunting question as to why he had been taken. No incident had befallen anyone else, before or since...It was altogether unsettling.
Kagome continued, swallowing thickly past the lump in her throat.
“As for Rin, she called me the week before last, saying that she might be on to something...So...I don't really know what to think...” Yuka put her arm around her shoulders, hoping to comfort the distressed writer with whom she nonetheless felt a sisterly kinship.
“I'm sure it will all turn out okay, but if you ever need me for anything, just give me a call, okay?” Kagome smiled quietly, leaning in to her friend and returning the squeezing hug. She appreciated the support, to say the least. Yuka did indeed have her strong points. Protectiveness, as well as loyalty, were most definitely not among the weakest.
“I will. And thank you for lunch...I'll get in contact with you, soon.” Yuka winked at her as she stopped with Kagome in front of her building.
“You better...” Her smile watered slightly into something more serious, “It will be all right, Kagome...and please...try something different in your writing for a change. Quit hanging on for `Sesshoumaru'...and hey, you never know, having a spicy relationship might add a little something to your writing, too!” Kagome joined her with a laugh, hoping to the gods that her friend and publisher wasn't plotting yet another insidious blind date for her. They said their goodbyes, and Kagome headed inside, trudging up the stairs.
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`Fuck!' His feral eyes glared humorlessly at the stacked array of papers on Higurashi's desk, teeth bared in frustration. He'd thought it'd be here, damn it! He strode furiously into the kitchen, clawing the linoleum counter as he went. The destruction appeased him some, but only just.
Things were just not going his way. First, there had been that initial surprise involving the cat. The damn thing had been spooked out of its wits when the wolf youkai had wandered into the bedroom. Sure, he realized on some level he had been too distracted, otherwise he'd have noticed its presence (as well as smell) in a heartbeat. But, that not being the case, the stupid feline had lashed out at him before hightailing it under the bed.
The fucking thing had managed to scratch his arm before he'd had the good sense to pursue it. But even with his lightening quick reflexes, he'd just barely managed to drop to he floor and strike out at the irritating cat, when the surprisingly intelligent shit took this opportunity to pass underneath completely and rush outside of the room.
Cursing, wishing he'd paid more attention, he reeled in his temper, if only for a moment. Right, he wasn't here to terrorize a hairball some human thought of as family; he needed to find what he came for, and get the hell out. While the girl was gone, possibly for a good while, there was no telling when she would come back. He needed to be gone by then with her none the wiser. Of his identity at least. Too bad his self-control wasn't as much as in his usual iron grip today.
As time passed and the minutes ticked by, with no further success in finding it, he'd begun venting his frustration on the furniture. Her picture frames, the ridiculous crystal figurines women girlishly collected for some idiotic reason. It sated him some, but he understood on some level or other that this was going against his original plan. Yet in the end, he mentally reasoned it would actually add up to his benefit. When the chit returned home to this devastation, she'd be more compliant to his demands.
Even if it wasn't to be found here, and this had turned out to be a fool's errand, it would eventually be here, soon. All he needed was to be patient. He growled throatily, flicking his ebony hair, as it fell into his eyes. Fat lot of good the furred headband was. Right, like he had time for this shit...
Drumming his claws in agitation, he spotted something over in the dining room area. It was a photograph. More to the point, it was a framed news article, with a black and white newsprint description beneath the photographer's view of `Miss Higurashi with her publisher Yuka Umezu'
He paused slightly. So, this was her. This was the chick whose apartment he'd broken into. He licked his lips, fangs revealed by a predatory grin of appreciation. He hadn't really been able to get a good look at her when she'd passed him earlier on the stairs. Hell, he was too busy trying to look nonchalant and inconspicious. Damn...
So this was the same vixen of that intoxicating scent...
Maybe...if things went well...he could indeed have his own little fun...In provoking her to be more...open to suggestion…
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A/N: Please review!!