InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Slip of the Tongue ❯ Idiot ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter Three - Idiosyncrasy

Great ideas often receive violent opposition from mediocre minds

—Albert Einstein

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes Kagome wished she were a boy.

 

Or a virgin.

 

Mutely, still pushed against the wall by Ikeda, she mourned the loss of her innocence. Or was it ignorance? Either way, Kagome sighed. If she had been in this same position when she was in high school, she would've blushed and either stuttered or buried her head in her hands, wanting to crawl under something—Not Ikeda!—and just stay there.

 

But since she wasn't in high school and she'd been in worse situations before (there was this one time a few years back that involved no pants and a room full of frat boys—yes, it was just as terrifying as it sounds) Kagome merely felt anger—muted by the resignation that the rest of her life was going to be one big swirling montage of headaches.

 

Of course, she'd figured out long ago that her life would be filled with bad luck. She deserved it. Kagome Higurashi had shamed her respected family by intergrading America's (lack of) morals into her lifestyle, had never brought any of her boy…friend things home to mother, had used substances not conducive to living a pure lifestyle, and had never bothered to even try and fall in love. Yes, Kagome knew that her life would be filled with pain and misfortune—she had it coming—and maybe…

 

And maybe a naked youkai, judging by the way Ikeda was staring at her.

 

Kagome glared half-heartedly, “Quit eye-humping me.”

 

Ikeda blinked, and his nose twitched faintly. Kagome surmised this to be his form of irritated amusement, but she couldn't be certain. Movement to her right caught her attention and she turned to watch some random guy grin, wink, then give a thumbs-up. Fuck you, Kagome thought mentally, not even all that sure why she was in such a bad mood. No, wait, she did know.

 

It was this god-forsaken elevator.

 

Her eyes traveled dully over the audience, stopping at Daisuke and his wife of whom she still didn't know the name. Not that I care. Daisuke's brow was furrowed in utter confusion, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but was too stunned to figure out what it was. His wife—who Kagome thought looked more familiar than she should've—was caught between glaring furiously and holding a hand over her mouth like she was going to sob. Kagome rolled her eyes and leaned her head back against the elevator wall, looking at Sesshomaru dully. He was, apparently, still in shock, as he hadn't moved away from her yet. She studied his features, felt him brush against her either by accident or experimentally, took a deep breath of his scent, and sighed. You can have him, lady, was what she mentally projected towards Mrs. Yamamoto, hoping the older woman would pick up on it.

 

Suddenly, she really, really didn't want to face anybody, wanted to just go home and complain to Miroku, then maybe look up a guy in her black book or watch a home movie wherein someone (most likely her) would be caught looking like an idiot for several hours/days. Plan in mind, she searched for a way out of this pathetic mess. Behind Ikeda, within reaching distance, was the keypad to the elevator. Her eyes lit up. This is going to look bad, she mused even as she leaned forward, pressing herself against Sesshomaru to hit the button for her floor. The doors started to close and at once their spectators rushed forward, probably to try and get on, but Kagome hit the `Close Doors' button repeatedly and sighed when the elevator began moving.

 

Leaning back, a satisfied smirk dancing on her lips, she almost didn't bother to react when Ikeda stared at her like she had a drunken monkey on her shoulder but he still wanted to devour her. “Move. Now.” Kagome said tersely.

 

Sesshomaru blinked, his nose twitching one last time, then pulled away, straightening his clothes and pushing his hands in his pockets. “We have yet to resolve the Yamamoto matter, Higurashi.”

 

Kagome sniffed, stepping away from the elevator wall, I'm taking the longest shower in the history of the world when I get home. “Why do you care so much anyway? Why do we need to confront them? I'm not worried about their marriage. I mean, sure it's sad that it might be ending, but those two knew what they were getting into when they tied the knot.”

 

Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed. “It is none of your—”

 

“Bull shit!” She interrupted, stepping off when the elevator doors opened to her floor. “You dragged me into this when my poor eyes were forced to stare at you while you dry-humped Mrs. Yamamoto like some beast.” Well, technically he is a beast, but, still…

 

Sesshomaru felt ire rip through him, and he glared after the woman, following her after a moment's hesitation. “You claim my acts with the Yamamoto woman were despicable, but it was you that felt the need to molest her husband out in the open like some licentious who—”

 

Kagome whipped around and held a finger up to his face, glaring with uninhibited fury, “If you dare end that sentence with the word `whore' I'm going to rip your damn tongue out and give it to Mrs. Yamamoto as a keepsake. Daisuke jumped me; I was surprised and confused and trying not to be too hard on him because his wife was cheating on him. I can only imagine the disgusting men she has slept with if you're one of them.”

 

Shock did not accurately describe the feeling that shot through Sesshomaru as he stared towards Higurashi while she walked away. After it passed, though, anger swelled in him, and he followed after her. “You worthless—” By now she was standing in the doorway to her apartment, gaping, and Sesshomaru's mouth tightened. She wasn't allowed to be speechless yet, he wasn't done insulting her! “Higurashi…” He trailed off when he looked over her shoulder into the apartment.

 

Two men were sprawled over her couch, clearly inebriated and possibly high. One of them Sesshomaru recognized as Miroku something or other, the other he'd never seen. Another man was holding the seat of a chair, probably a computer chair, judging by the base, and was dancing, thrusting things that Sesshomaru wished he'd never had to see thrusted. Errant pieces of trash were strewn over the stainless carpet, and the television was on, but muted, a cheap porno playing across the screen.

 

Kagome's fingers twitched on the doorknob, followed by her right eyebrow, followed by the muscles in her left leg. “Miroku…” She whispered, the promise of death coloring her voice a remarkable red. Miroku looked up blearily from his corner of the couch, his eyes widening when they landed on Kagome. His expression of horror quite summed up his thoughts (which were along the lines of, Oh shit…Wait! Pie!) and Kagome took a deep breath. “You are SO dead!”

 

“KAGOME-CHAN!” An exuberant voice called, and Kagome was tackled before she could see whom it was. She landed in the hall, someone's body weight pressing on her lungs, and stared at the ceiling for a while, eyes clouded. Perhaps I was Hitler in another life… “Oh, Kagome-chan, I missed you so much! You don't know how dull it's been without you around to brighten my days! Why, just yesterday I was reminiscing about that time down in Vegas when we ran out of bus fare and were stuck in the middle of the desert, stoned out of our minds! Do you remember? You ended up doing a jig in the middle of the road to get that trucker to stop? Remember!”

 

Kagome pushed the guy off her, studying him quietly. His hair was darker than she remembered, as were his eyes, but it was still Redd Avery. Or as Kagome had taken to calling him, Shippo. Slowly, she felt a smile work its way on her features. Shippo was sitting back on his heels, grinning widely, his big green eyes focused on her face. A strand of shiny auburn hair fell in his eyes but he ignored it, smiling even wider when Kagome's own face lit up, his fangs poking over his bottom lip. Her old college friend, a kitsune and certified member of the Ageless Society of South California (ASS for short), certainly hadn't changed much. He was still stunningly attractive in all ways that defined a demon and just as innocent looking as she knew he wasn't.

 

Elation coursed through her and she squealed, tackling him back. “Shippo-kun! Why are you here?” She looked at him jubilantly, bouncing unconsciously on his stomach in exhilaration.

 

Shippo sat up, causing Kagome to slide down into his lap, and patted her head. “Don't question things, Kagome! Perhaps I am simply here because I want to be. It definitely wouldn't have anything to do with Miroku's insistence and, um, illegal substances. `Cause I'm an innocent little boy and would never, ever—” One of Kagome's eyebrows inched up and Shippo pouted, not even bothering to finish his sentence. “You're no fun.” He finished lamely.

 

Kagome shifted further back in his lap, crossing her arms. “Hey! I am lots of fun. In fact, I'm practically a big steaming pile of joy and fun and presents and the good of all mankind and happy-happy-joy-joy!”

 

“Are you done?”

 

Kagome blinked. “And puppies and bunnies.”

 

“Now are you done?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Shippo nodded and stood up, holding Kagome like she was a child, before noticing Sesshomaru. “Who're you?”

 

From his place on the couch, Miroku cried, “That's her lover!” before going back to trying to lick his own elbow.

 

Shippo gasped in outrage, “You're cheating on ME!?” He cried theatrically, putting Kagome on her feet, crossing his arms, tapping his foot angrily.

 

Kagome merely giggled at his display, clasping her hands together innocently.

 

Again, Miroku's voice called, “That's what I said! …I think,” before his attention slipped again.

 

Shippo put one of his hands on a hip. “You and me?” He said, gesturing between himself and Kagome, “We're through.” He stomped back into Kagome's apartment, grabbing the guy that was dancing with Kagome's computer chair seat, and said loud enough for everyone to hear, “We're back together, Menomaru!”

 

Menomaru dropped the seat, his eyes wide as he stared at Shippo, “We broke up?! You were CHEATING on me? How could you!” His lower lip trembled and Shippo took a step back, eyeing the moth demon warily.

 

“Dude, I was kidding—”

 

Menomaru grabbed at his heart, his eyes watering. “You mean all those promises, all those declarations of love—they all meant nothing?”

 

Shippo blinked, slowly. “Um, Menomaru, buddy, what are you on?”

 

Menomaru suddenly dropped the act and looked at Shippo impassively. “I don't remember. A lot of things.” His head swiveled to the side when the door opened.

 

Kagome walked into her apartment warily, her attention focused solely on Menomaru. The moth demon stared back at her, his slanted red eyes dangerous, a smirk pulling at his lips. Several silent moments passed by until finally, after spending the entire time looking between the two with pure bewilderment, Shippo snapped. “Am I missing something?”

 

Menomaru's smirk twisted a little darkly. “Mm, no. And it certainly has nothing to do with the fact that the last time I saw Kagome dear she was naked.”

 

Kagome sputtered, stomping up to Menomaru to grab one of the red antennae attached to his forehead to pull his head towards her mouth. “You said you wouldn't tell!” She whispered furiously, eyeing everyone around them with alarmed eyes. Menomaru said nothing, but slipped his hand to her hip, still leering.

 

Shippo watched the interaction with a slack jaw. Miroku was still trying to lick his elbow. Jinenjii (the last member of their party, who'd been sprawled out on the couch with Miroku) was blinking blearily at everyone, a constant delirious mutter tumbling from his mouth. Sesshomaru was looking in on all of them from outside the apartment, wondering if he should just back away and forget he ever saw any of this or turn the lot of them into the police for possession.

 

Kagome stared at the large hand on her hip, motionless. I—Angry—Kill—Pain—Castration—Stupid URGES! Urges, you see, were what started her little…thing…with Menomaru. Well, she amended, urges and pot. Menomaru's fingers traveled further back, his hand situating itself on her ass. Every muscle in her body tensed. But mostly pot. Her foot swung back, connecting with his shin comfortingly. A warm, happy feeling spread through her as the powerful full demon was brought down with a groan, rubbing his leg while managing to sulk like a child.

 

Satisfied, she trudged over to Jinenjii, avoiding food wrappers and empty cans. “Jinenjii,” she grabbed his chin, making his bleary eyes focus on her.

 

“Oh, Kagome, when did you arrive?”

 

Kagome closed her eyes exasperatedly. She seemed to be counting quietly to ten. Jinenjii had to admit he was confused as to why. Her eyes opened again and she leveled her glare at him. “Jinenjii, what did you bring with you when you came over here?”

 

Jinenjii's face twisted as he attempted to process the question. “…Myself…”

 

“And?”

 

“Um…pie…”

 

“And?”

 

“Some…thing to drink…”

 

“DRUGS, JINENJI! Drugs! Did you bring any drugs?!”

 

“Um…” Jinenjii's eyes crossed, and Kagome guessed that this was the pose he'd chosen to think in. Her hand fell away from his face and she tiredly plopped down between him and Miroku.

 

“I was Hitler in a past life. And before that? Caesar. Except eviler. I kicked children in my free time.”

 

Miroku's head landed on her shoulder, and he buried his face in her neck. “Nah, you were probably…like…a kitten. Or something equally harmless and innocent. Maybe a carrot.”

 

Kagome's eyes screwed shut. Not for the first time, she damned the affect drugs had on demons. When dosed with the same amount of a “medicine” as a human might take, demons became much less inhibited than usual, but their senses (balance, sight, speech), remained mostly impervious, as their natural instincts would kick in and suppress anything that might inhibit their responsiveness. But, as with humans, drugs affected each demon differently and they could be as out of it as any human. Menomaru became much more open. And talkative. And he absolutely loved to grab things that didn't belong to him. Last time she'd seen Menomaru had been at Miroku's home maybe a year ago, and she still wasn't convinced that he hadn't purposefully gotten her drunk.

 

Alright, she amended hesitantly, her eyes opening, so I was pretty much doing all the drinking myself. But he wasn't stopping me!

 

A throat cleared behind the couch and Kagome strained her neck to see Ikeda standing by the door looking aloof and completely out of place. “Shouldn't you have given some mocking comment by now and been gone?”

 

Sesshomaru looked back at her and Kagome got the distinct impression that he was trying to do just that. Shippo was standing in front of him, though, his arms crossed. And Kagome could just bet that Ikeda's thoughts were something along the lines of refusing to let “demons like Shippo” touch him. So he was trapped, although he could certainly rip apart the smaller American kitsune. Kagome stood and circled the couch, but offered Ikeda no help with Shippo.

 

After examining Sesshomaru for several drawn-out minutes, Shippo grinned wryly. “Nope, I just don't see it.”

 

Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed. And he decided, once more, if his curiosity were a person he would have pitilessly murdered it by now. “Do not see what?”

 

Shippo shrugged and strolled away. “The signs that would show you've slept with Kagome.”

 

Kagome slapped the back of Shippo's head soundly when he walked past her. “Why do you do that to me? What about loyalty? What about trust? Don't you trust me to have better taste than that?!” Seriously, if Kagome wanted her sex life to be examined than she would've gone home to visit mother-dear. The word mother made her shiver and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Oh for the days of my youth, when my family still had faith that I'd turn out to be a decent person.

 

Completely ignoring Higurashi's `better taste' comment (because Sesshomaru knew she was just suppressing her overwhelming attraction to him, the silly little girl), his gaze lingered on the back of the American critically. “Signs, kitsune?”

 

Shippo whipped around, a bright smile on his face. “Why, yes! There are several. Allow me to use an example. Menomaru!” Menomaru's head popped out of the kitchen, a graham cracker hanging out of his mouth, crumbs decorating the red stripes on his forehead. Shippo blinked, assumed he'd simply shoved his entire head in the box, then called him over. “Now!” He cleared his voice and turned Menomaru to the side, holding a hand up to his back. “View the position of this male's spine. Although most demons, especially one's as powerful and refined as Menomaru,” said refined demon giggled and swatted at Shippo's hand, “usually have impeccable posture. But, as you can see, Menomaru is very relaxed! Why, I remember about a year ago when he wouldn't go out into public without his spine ramrod straight!”

 

Sesshomaru sniffed. “That proves nothing.”

 

Shippo rolled his eyes. “I wasn't done yet.” He shot Ikeda a pointed look, then shifted back to the moth demon. “Next, allow me to draw your attention to Menomaru's expression!” Shippo grabbed the demon's face and turned it towards Sesshomaru. “Now, Menomaru, buddy, think of Kagome.” Menomaru smirked. “Think of Kagome naked.” A thin line of drool dribbled down from a corner of his mouth. “Now, think of Kagome, naked, in your bed.” Menomaru's pupils contracted and his smirk shifted into a goofy smile. His spine visibly slouched and he sighed dreamily. Shippo looked over at Sesshomaru, his eyebrows waggling conceitedly. “See? When all these signs are put into proper order, and applied to certain victims, [Kagome's “They weren't victims, you jerk!” made Shippo grin victoriously] it proves that Kagome possess insane abilities to, erm, `loosen up' men under special circumstances. You have most certainly never been `loosened up'.”

 

Ikeda's gaze slid surreptitiously to Kagome, who winced, then offered, “He's a doctor. And his dad was a car salesman. He likes analyzing and talking.” As Shippo launched into a completely unrelated rant about the pros of frequent sex (“It's the safest sport, really! You don't even have to buy special shoes! …Unless you like role-playing…”) Kagome sighed for what must've been way too many times that day. “He really likes talking. A lot.”

 

Ikeda nodded stiffly, then opened the door to her apartment. “Higurashi,” he made some gesture towards the hallway and Kagome followed after him, promising retribution towards Shippo with the first glare of a long night. “If you truly wish to know what happened the day you…the day I and the Yamamoto woman were in that elevator, I will tell you.”

 

The top of Kagome's head was even with his nose. When she cast him a horrified look—no doubt thinking he meant to explain to her what he was doing to Mrs. Yamamoto instead of how he got there—her brow furrowed suddenly, realizing that if she had her shoes off (today was not a good day to wear shoes with heels) she probably would barely brush his neck.

 

“What I mean is I will inform you why what happens among the Yamamoto marriage concerns me so.”

 

“…You aren't going to tell me something gross, like, `and then she did this thing with her tongue'?”

 

Sesshomaru stared back at her, completely and utterly displeased. “No. Tomorrow I will be here at noon. Be ready.”

 

Kagome watched him disappear into the gleaming metal of the elevator several moments later, scratching her head. Was that his form of asking me out on a date or is the smoke from my apartment getting to me? She opened the door, a fresh wave of curious scents assaulting her nose, a fresh string of angry curses assaulting her `friends'. Yeah, definitely the smoke.

 

Disregarding the fact that she was doomed, doomed, doomy doom doom, doomed this wasn't a completely horrible day.

 

Kagome stepped into the apartment, still yelling at everyone (mainly Miroku) and kicked the door shut behind her. Shippo looked up, eyes wide, and hid the source of smoke behind his back. Menomaru was still where Shippo had left him earlier, clearly daydreaming. Miroku and Jinenjii were seated around Shippo, both close to passing out.

 

She was wrong.

 

This was an ungodly unbearable day. Horrible didn't even begin to sum up her feelings.

 

There was only one way to fix this.

 

Make someone else feel worse.

 

“Oh, Miroku!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Menomaru: HAHAHAHAHAHA! I've seen you naked! HA! You're a dirty whor—

 

Kagome: SHUT UP OR I'LL FEED YOUR CHILDREN TO GIANT GRASSHOPPERS!

 

Menomaru: I don't have any children. And grasshoppers? WTF?

 

Kagome: I don't know. You're a moth demon. For some reason grasshoppers came to mind.

 

Miroku: It's the pot.

 

Shippo: It's the sex.

 

Kagome: *twitch* No. It's having to hang out with you idiots. I quit. I'm just going to go sit in a dark room and cry for, like, seven hours.

 

Menomaru: Can I co—

 

Kagome: NO, bitch!

 

Miroku: *gasp* Such language! You should be ashamed!

 

Kagome: You should be incarcerated!