InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Fortuneteller and a Nerdy Hanyou ❯ The Dating Game ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, I'm just playing.

 

A/N: I am a fuckwit. Really, very very much so a fuckwit. In the last chapter, I forgot to write in the fact that Inuyasha has glasses. I'm sorry if you noticed, and I feel like I wasted an idea when I put that character trait in this story. So don't go saying I plagiarized myself when I write another story or a oneshot with a nerdy hanyou in it. I like the premise, but I feel like the plot in this story overshadows it. Sniffle.

 

Thanks to all my reviewers, or like the three of you that excised your fingers enough to give me a response on Chapter 5. Any ideas on a name change?

 

Also, if anyone cares, I hate Inuyasha dubs. That is one point that Cartoon Network sucks on.

 

Chapter 6

 

Sunday Morning

 

Kagome fiddled with the buttons on her cell phone, chewing on her lip all the while. She had forgotten how difficult dating was, and for a moment at least, missed her ex. For a moment, she wished that she had just called human-youkai affairs the night before, or that Kikyou hadn't let her in on her search for the Shikon no Tama.

 

But no, she wasn't that kind of person—one who just set back and let a doomsday demon be reborn into this world and era. If saving the people of earth meant rubbing elbows with a seemingly disgruntled and broken-hearted hanyou, Kagome Higurashi would be first in line to do it.

 

She was a miko after all, who better to handle the situation?

 

With her internal pep talk completed, Kagome hit her cell phone send button on the number she had spent the better part of the morning trying to locate. Miroku, it seemed didn't want to be found, or at least not his number. But that was common for people in the extermination-purification business. You don't want potential prey finding you before you could hunt them. Holy beings and hunters usually kept a low profile and got business through referrals, not by having a listing in the yellow pages.

 

The phone line on the other end rang…once…twice…thr— “Hello? This is Miroku speaking, can I help you?”

 

Kagome felt herself smile. How had they lost touch? She missed Miroku, he had been like a brother to her; she really didn't know what her family would have done after her father had passed if he hadn't been there for them.

 

“Hey, how's it going?” Kagome toyed. She hoped that he'd recognize her voice, but when she was only met with a pause, she was afraid she'd have to go through with an introduction. Miroku, in the end however, came through.

 

“Kagome? Is that you?”

 

“Yeah,” Kagome said sheepishly.

 

“I thought I might hear from you, but not this soon.” Miroku sounded edgy.

 

“Yeah, I know,” she sighed, trying to sound casual. “Its just, I kinda wanted to play catch-up with you and your girlfriend, and that snake demon got in the way.” She took a breath, chanting in her mind Shikon no Tama, doomsday demon, Shikon no Tama, doomsday demon. “I thought we could meet up again, maybe next weekend?” Kagome breathed deep, if he said no, she was going to have to beg. Even if he said yes, she still had to find a way to get Inuyasha Takahashi at the get together, and she hadn't been able to come up with an excuse. Well besides the obvious one. The one that most couples would jump on when it involved their single friends.

 

There was another pause on the other end of the line, then the sound of Miroku clearing his throat. “That would be great, uh…let me see what Sango thinks…” There was a noise, as his hand was clamped over the phone, then the muffled hum of Miroku's voice.

 

Kagome let her mind wonder as she waited. She was glad Miroku had found himself a woman who could keep him in line—the only other had been her own mother during his training at the shrine—she was just afraid that this Sango was smothering him, keeping him on a leash. But maybe that was what a hentai like Miroku needed. Kagome's lips twisted up into a smirk.

 

“Hey, you still there Kagome?” Miroku was back on the line. “Sango says this weekend's good for her, and she recommended the Taijya Tavern. Its kind of new, but her family knows the owner. Saturday alright?”

 

“Yeah, that's good for me…” Now for the hard part. Inuyasha.

 

“And Kagome, would it be okay if Inuyasha came with us? He really needs to get out.”

 

Kagome's smirk widened. “Of course, Miroku, I understand. I know Kikyou, remember?”

 

Things were working out better than she had planned.

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

Miroku hung up his kitchen phone, turning to his girlfriend. “She said Inuyasha could come.” When Sango only stared back at him, he shrugged. “They might make a good pair.”

 

“Yeah, I know, they'd fit together just like, oh yeah that's right—Kikyou and Inuyasha.” Sango rolled his eyes as she spoke. “Do you really put so much trust in her that you'd offer her Inuyasha like a sacrificial pig?”

 

Miroku thought for a moment. “Yes. Kagome isn't Kikyou. Trust me. Besides, isn't Kagome playing the part of the sacrifice?”

 

Sango gave him another pointed look. “What ever you say, but she better not hurt him. Do you really want to spend every Friday night of your life trying to find Inuyasha a mate?”

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Monday Morning

 

Across town from Sango and Miroku's apartment, in a very tall, very glass building, Inuyasha had long since begun the day. It was kind of hard not to when the morning security guards woke him up when they did their initial perimeter check at 6:30.

 

Taking another gulp of coffee, he took in the deep aroma. Along with the cleaning supplies they used in the building, it was doing wonders to clear the smell of the miko from his mind.

 

He had almost been able to get her face out of his head to by looking at sheet after sheet of figures for his various clients. Pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose, he looked back down to the list before him, blinking to get his eyes to focus again.

 

No, he wasn't even thinking about Kikyou's cousin.

 

Unfortunately, he was toying with Miroku's number. Again.

 

Finding that he had already pushed most of the digits to call his friend, Inuyasha slammed the phone down, letting a growl rip through his throat. He took off his glasses and toyed with them.

 

A passing coworker gave him a raised eyebrow as she walked by his open door.

 

Today was not a good day. Slipping his glasses back on, he tried to get back to work.

 

Are you doomed to only be attracted to mikos the rest of your cursed life?

 

It doesn't matter that she's a miko—its that she's Kikyou's cousin.

 

He had all the luck. His mind was having an argument with itself. And part of it seemed to be winning.

 

Inuyasha came out of his thoughts for find his clawed hand clutching the receiver yet again. This was what, the fifth time that morning alone? Not only was there an dispute going on inside his head, but also his youkai was trying to sneak a call to get him a date.

 

Things were going really well…

 

Maybe if he just saw her one more time, she would go away.

 

You really are a simple-minded creature, aren't you? You truly underestimate yourself, hanyou. He could practically see his full-youkai half leering at him.

 

The phone was ringing, and with his claws already death locked around the damn handle, Inuyasha was brought back to earth, yet again.

 

It took a moment, but at last, he was able to engage his brain enough to pick up the handle, placing the special earpiece next to his puppy-dog ear. It took another pause before he realized he had to say something.

 

“Saotome and Tendo Accounting. This is Inuyasha Takahashi, how may I help you?” Inuyasha could have smacked himself—he knew he sounded so mechanical he might as well have been a recording.

 

“God Takahashi, you sound enthusiastic. What no coffee?” Miroku's voice smirked through the phone. Inuyasha idly eyed the empty coffee pot that perched on the end table next to the couch. It had been full an hour ago.

 

“What do you want, Miroku?” He scoffed, not letting the young monk know the debate he had been having with himself.

 

“You have plans Saturday night. Change your shirt and get out of the office to buy a bottle of wine some time between now and then,” Miroku instructed.

 

“Miroku…” Inuyasha growled as he rubbed his face with his hand, readjusting his glasses in the process. “You don't have to keep babysitting me. I'm a grown man.”

 

“Inuyasha, you maybe a grown man, but you have been sleeping at your office seven nights a week for the past month. Someone has to look out for you.”

 

“What if I'm happy at my office?”

 

“Why do you sleep there anyway?” Miroku shot back. “You and Kikyou…separated half a year ago. Why now?”

 

Inuyasha was silent. Miroku and Sango were becoming more and more bold with him. When he first started staying at the office, they danced around the subject even when they were dragging him away from work. Maybe it was better just to change the subject, it was too early in the morning to talk about that now.

 

“Fine, Miroku, I'll be there Saturday night, with clean clothes and wine.” He thought for a moment. “There better only be you and Sango there though.”

 

“You mean you don't want to see Kagome again?”

 

“Miroku…” Inuyasha gave a warning growl that the monk should have been able to pick up on, but still chose to ignore.

 

“See you Saturday, we'll pick you up at seven—don't be late!”

 

There was a click on the other end, telling the hanyou that his friend was no longer on the line.

 

“Fuck!” Inuyasha cursed, slamming the phone down. He glowered at the phone for a moment, then looked up to see that another coworker had wandered passed his door and was staring at him with a frightened look.

 

Great. It was a great day.

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Friday Night

 

In a less than respectable part town, in a less than reputable establishment, at a less than stable table, sat a less than savory character. In the dim candlelight, he watched a less than innocent stage performer do a less than virtuous dance, wearing less than the required amount of clothes to make her descent.

 

The man leaned over the small cup candleholder and lit a cigarette. Under the table his foot began to tap. He was getting impatient. Where was she? The bitch was always late. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that it was already half an hour passed the time when she was supposed to be there.

 

Onigumo was about to leave: the stripper was boring, the smoke was so thick it was getting to even the likes of him, and he wanted to go find Kikyou so he could strangle her until she begged for her useless life. It was their typical Friday night. Having a girlfriend brought such wonderful routines.

 

He was leafing though the bills in his wallet to pay for the shots he had taken when his ears picked up the stumbling steps of someone making their way down the aisle of tables towards the one at which he was seated. Looking up he saw her, Kikyou. She already looked smashed, which wasn't good. The times that she was drunk were the times when she had the most clarity. Alcohol did something to the spells he had used to bind her to him—it was as though it disrupted the transmission of the signals that held her under his control.

 

Onigumo sighed as Kikyou half sat, half fell into the seat across from him.

 

“You've been a very, very naughty boy, my love,” she slurred, her voice taking on a singsong quality. She picked up one of his bottles and waved the mouthpiece in his face.

 

Onigumo tried to resist the urge to pluck the bottle from her fingers and smash it into her skull. Not only did his domination of Kikyou fade when she was drunk, but she became

annoying as hell, pushing all of his buttons.

 

“You want something you shouldn't.” Her voice continued its singsong pace. She tapped his nose with the mouth of the container and Onigumo felt a drop trickle off the tip. Kikyou leaned back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. Looking him straight in the eye, in a dead cold voice that lacked all its previous humor she whispered, as he knew she inevitably would, “I can't help you anymore.”

 

Onigumo's restraint snapped. He lashed out at her: reaching across the table and fisting the shallow hair on the very top of her head. Dragging her to her feet, he let her hair go only to reach down and grip her pale throat with his callused hand. Her head was still bent down, her face directed away from him. Onigumo snarled, squeezing Kikyou's throat until he felt her try to flex her jaw: he knew she was getting nowhere in her search for air. Crushing her neck even more, he forced her to look him in the eye.

 

Kikyou's eyes were blank, almost lifeless. Just a side effect of the spells. When he first met Kikyou, Onigumo had been shocked that a miko was hanging around him—him, Onigumo, one of the most blacklisted men in magic. He had leaped at the opportunity to have the miko as a companion—she was just what he had been searching for, just what he needed to put his plan into play. But even then, in the back of his mind, he had know it was too good to be true.

 

It wasn't that Kikyou wasn't loyal—she refused leave him and would never deny him the use of her powers.

 

Her powers, therein lay the problem: Kikyou's powers were a joke. Not only did she not use them, he had a sinking feeling that she didn't really know how to use the gifts nature had given her.

 

He had almost killed her when he had that realization. Kikyou had already known too much just to be let go. She seemed to be too clueless to tell anyone, not to mention the fact that most of the binding spells he had used would cloud her thoughts, but there was always that chance…

 

Onigumo had had a place to dump the body, a way to do the deed, even enough cleaning supplies to get out the blood he was sure he would spill on his white carpet. He hated those pesky stains when he was entertaining his dinner guests. Hell, he practically had the knife to the bitch's throat when he had a stroke of (as he liked to think) genius. Mikos had to go through miko training, and though Kikyou's powers were about as useful to him as a shit in a box, she had gone through miko training. That meant that at some point, she had to have been around other mikos…she could lead him to another miko.

 

He had put his knife away, and cancelled his contact that was waiting for the body. He kept the cleaning supplies—you could never have too much bleach. Onigumo had to admit he was a little relieved he didn't have to slit her throat, in his own twisted black heart, he had developed a soft spot for Kikyou. It was nice having her around.

 

His opinion of Kikyou rose even more when she told him about her cousin. Kagome Higurashi. He knew he had heard that name before, but when or where was still beyond him.

 

It didn't matter. Kagome was a real miko who helped in running a shrine. She did the occasional charity exorcism. She really had the gift, unlike Kikyou.

 

Kikyou had been supposed to talk to Kagome, but for some reason, she kept putting off the visit. That was until one of Onigumo's men had crossed the path of the sought after miko. Chris had always been a cocky jackass, but he didn't deserve to be converted into dust.

 

But Chris' death had been the push Onigumo had needed to get Kikyou to go see her cousin. He had been so enraged that even though the haze that coated Kikyou's perception, she had been truly afraid of him. She had left for Kagome's as soon as he released her.

 

So now, a week later, Onigumo was more than a little miffed to find that he still didn't know what had been the outcome of the meeting between Kikyou and her cousin, and to top it off, she had gone and gotten hammered, so it was going to be even longer until he could get her talking.

 

He gave Kikyou's throat one final crushing embrace before he pushed her backwards. She stumbled, wobbling to get her balance, but failed miserably. She sat back into her seat that was not prepared to catch her weight. It tipped back, spilling Kikyou on to the ground so that her feet still hung in the air even as her head crashed into the ground.

 

Onigumo watched her for a moment, her weak attempts to right herself before the alcohol and the force of the collision got the best of her and she passed out. Strolling around the side of the table, he knelt down, scooping her up into her arms. He carried her out of the bar amid the uncomfortable—though inebriated—gazes of the other customers.

 

Yes, it truly was their typical Friday night.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Saturday Night

 

Inuyasha trudged behind Sango who had just picked him from his office. Evidently the plan was for them to polish off the bottle of wine that was so important for him to obtain while chit chatting, then trek off to Taijya Tavern for a very late dinner as that was when some musical group would be playing.

 

They were still several floors down from the apartment Sango and Miroku shared, and Inuyasha already could smell that something was up. He nudged his glasses up a little further so they didn't slip off his nose as he walked with his head bent.

 

Miroku and Sango really were getting bold with him if they were doing what he thought they were.

 

Sango fiddled with her keys, unlocking the door, even though Miroku was inside. Ah the paranoia of being a demon hunter. The moment Inuyasha stepped inside, he knew what they had done, though he really wasn't surprised. His friends had to be tired of looking after his social life all the time. They were getting desperate.

 

The miko was there.

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

A/N: Ok, I'm going to leave you guys there. I was going to write them getting together and all, but I fell like I've drug this out about much as I [and you guys] can take. That being said, I like this chapter, which probably means that you'll hate it: it is probably doomed to follow the pattern of me hating=you liking/me liking=you hating.

 

As for the Kikyou/Onigumo scene, that really did come out darker than I wanted. Its just I wrote it after I came home from getting fitted for my bridesmaid dress. Not only did the fucker look like a trash bag on me, but also it was ugly, and I had to shell out $50 for fucking alterations. See, my friend had a freakout at one bridal store where we had these really pretty dresses picked out that actually looked good on me. But after her bitch fit, she switched stores and she let her anorexic cousin pick out new dresses, so now I have a hideous dress that makes me look fat. I'm not usually one of those girls that cares about stuff like that, its just in this instant, I'm pissed that I have to wear something in front of so many people that makes me look so bad. That and I had to spend an entire day with my friend and her friend who sucks your soul out with her constant blathering about nails, hair, her boobs, and boys. More about boys and her than I ever wanted to know. The fact that I had the I.Q. to write this is a fucking miracle…so anyway…point: Onigumo/Kikyou darkness is basically venting from that day of girly-girly hell.