InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Last Girlfriend ❯ Chapter 10 ( Chapter 10 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer:Own Inu-chan I do not.
Own Itokuzu-pi(Sesshoumaru) I do not.
Own Miroku-san and Sango-san?
.......... -.- I don't and I wish I did.

Additional Disclaimer: I don't own author Valerie Frankel's book "The Girlfriend Curse", from which this story I've made a parody of(somewhat). So nobody sue me, or accuse me of plagiarism if you've read the book. I'm just altering some stuff, but the storyline remains indifferent all the same.

X) Oh yeah. The names of the characters, locations and events are plain fictitious.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Ten minutes later, Sango pulled into the gravel driveway of a huge Federal brick mansion, shaped like a box, with white-trimmed windows and a red-painted door. She found it easily. Only stalled twice on the drive from the inn. The woman on the phone, a Shima Suzuki, gave her simple and clear directions.

"Take Ichiban Street out of Sapporo until you reach a wooden bridge.. Make a left turn--socially, environmentally and politically--to stay in Hokkaido. Turn right after that, but do not cross the bridge."

The rest of the way was a straight shot on Kawa Road, about half a mile.

Sango stalled to a stop and stepped out of her Subaru. A woman appeared in the doorway of the Federal, and waved. Sango waved back. She grabbed her suitcase from the backseat. She walked by another Subaru in the driveway, and up to the front door.

"Welcome, Sango-chan." greeted the woman. "I'm Shima."

Up close, Shima's smile seemed pinched.

Just another client greeting for her, she thought.

She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, but she could have been deceptively young-looking due to all that high altitude clean living. Shima's shiny black hair was kept away from her face with a low ponytail, her skin, free of makeup, was bronzed and glowing. The thighs sticking out of cutoff shorts were unshaven, and hard as granite. She was either a hiker or biker. She pumped Sango's hand with the grip of a man. Her tanned forearm was knotty with sinew, also unapologetically fuzzy.

"What, no complimentary cocktail?" Sango asked.

Shima's pinched smile collapsed. "Complimentary cocktail?"

Even with the dour expression, Shima was a living, breathing advertisement for effortless beauty, in a muscular, oddly sexless way. Sango could easily see her sweating and groaning on a bike. But not on a man.

"Whenever you arrive at a resort hotel, they greet you in the lobby with rum drinks." she explained. "Sometimes they give you mango on a stick."

"We're not a hotel." Shima replied. "I can get you some organic apple cider."

"I wasn't serious. I was just trying to be..."

"Critical?" Shima asked. "Demanding?"

"Apple cider sounds great."

Shima nodded and invited her inside. "The others are waiting outside. Let's dump your suitcase in the women's suite first and go join them."

"How many others are here?" Sango asked, not realizing she'd be sharing a suite.

"Two other women, and three men." was the answer. "We had a cancellation last week. A woman. You took her spot."

"I got lucky."

"You sure did!" Shima said buoyantly.

Sango had to shut her lips with her fingers. All this earnestness would take some getting used to. Accepting people's comments at face value? Not searching for hidden meanings or making the assumption of irony? Yikes! Sango was unprepared for this kind of braintease.

Shima led her through the Federal's interior, the perfectly skimmed white walls, the traditional tatami matted floor, exposed ceiling beams, low ceilings, and tiny rooms for optimal fireplace heating. Doorways led to doorways, and Sango wondered if she'd get hopelessly lost in the maze. Shima took her up the staircase to the second, then the third floor. Finally, they came to a suite of rooms. And then, into a private bedroom.

"This was once a walk-in closet." Shima informed her. "Two decades ago."

A walk-in closet? Sango had seen smaller Tokyo one-bedroom apartments. The wallpaper--a rose, lime and cream floral--was a replay of the onslaught at the inn. But the room was bright and airy, three windows, a bouncy bed with a white eyelet coverlet and an oak dresser with wooden knobs. Except for the wallpaper, Sango liked it. She could easily stay here.

"Do you have mice?" she asked, just to be sure.

"Black flies, but no mice." Shima answered.

"Where do the other women sleep?"

"There are two more rooms on this floor, and a common bathroom across the hallway."

"Where do you and Yoshihiko-sensei sleep?"

Miroku Yoshihiko was the founder, organizer and head instructor of Inward Bound. Masters in sociology, doctorate in psychology, a through-hiker of the mountain trails and native son of Sapporo. Shima, herself, was a doctoral candidate in psychology. She'd rattled off her and Yoshihiko's credentials on the phone earlier. She'd also mentioned to Sango that she and Miroku Yoshihiko were "partners". Under questioning, Shima admitted that they were "a couple", which forced Sango to further ask, "A couple of what?" in a Groucho Marx voice. Shima had replied, "Psychologists."

Sango knew then that she and Shima wouldn't become close friends.

She bounced her suitcase on the coverlet and started to unpack. The other woman watched, didn't offer to help, and said, "He prefers to be called Miroku."

"Miroku." repeated Sango.

Nice name. Sounds smart enough for a pro-psychologist, I guess.

"We sleep on the first floor, off the kitchen." Shima told her. "Let me go over the daily schedule with you. Breakfast at 6 a.m., lunch at noon, and dinner at six. We eat every six hours for optimum functioning."

Sango looked at her watch. She'd get dinner in five hours. That seemed a long way off. "Are naps scheduled?"

"Naps?" asked Shima.

"Put head down, close eyes?" she suggested.

Shima nodded. "Bedtime is early. Ten o'clock. You'll get plenty of sleep."

"Meals and sleep times are planned. Do you schedule bathroom breaks too?"

"You can use the bathroom whenever you like." Shima told her.

"Do we eat with the men?" Sango asked, thinking of Kuranosuke, his lips parted to taste.

Shima nodded.

"Where do the men sleep?" Thinking of him again, she imagined his eyes closed in slumber, or lying on his back in bed, jerking off and thinking of her.

Her host wasn't too quick to answer that. "The men sleep one flight below. But you aren't allowed on their floor." she said. "For obvious reasons."

Sango asked, "Are the men allowed on the women's floor?"

Shima had had enough. "Our clients have come here to learn, not to date. If you think this is some kind of Catskills singles weekend, you've got it all wrong."

Catskills? Was that a Jewish slur? Was Shima Jewish?

"So orgies are out of the question?" Sango continued.

"We don't currently have them on the schedule."

Sango was led back downstairs. If she'd suspected some subterfuge would be necessary to get what she was after from Kuranosuke, she'd underestimated how much. But she was not one to back down from a challenge. Sango smoothed her bangs as Shima took her through a living room with three large couches and a grand piano, out the rear of the house and onto the back porch, where two other women sat on rocking chairs, gazing at the river--or the scull of shirtless crewmen skimming by upon it. No sign of Kuranosuke anywhere.

"Look at the guy on the end." said the one with chestnut hair. "He must be cock swain."

"He has a nice stroke." said the long-haired brunette next to her.

Shima cleared her throat. "Ahem."

The two women spun around. The brunette smiled hesitantly, but the chestnut frowned, as if annoyed by the distraction from a more satisfying diversion. Sango guessed both women were roughly her age, within a five or six-year radius. Attractive. On the surface, neither seemed like a misfit of love. And yet here they were, paying 80000 yen for a month of live-in, eat-in, breath-in romantic intervention.

Sango introduced herself.

"Sara Ieyasu." said the brunette.

"Keiko Ichijouji." said the chestnut.

"Everyone ready?" Shima asked them.

Sara and Keiko rose from their chairs. Sango got a better look at them both. Sara was at least six feet tall. The only thing stopping her legs from going on forever was the porch floor. Along with her hiking boots, Sara wore a cute little sundress, cotton, spaghetti straps, had cone-shaped tits that didn't need a bra and jutting collarbones you could put a hanger on. She was a goddess, a stunning figure of Japanese perfection, the arched eyebrows and chocolate irises, pale poreless skin and fine fettled bone structure. The flame of female competitiveness flared within Sango. It couldn't be helped. She swallowed hard, the lump of envy burning all the way down.

Keiko was easier on the ego to look at. A busty chestnut, she had curly hair and a curvy body, with salmon eyes and red lips. She could benefit immeasurably from better posture, and a few thousand sit-ups. Sango guessed she was the oldest of the group, around thirty-four or thirty-five. She wore a Lacoste short-sleeve shirt, yellow(did nothing for her), with khaki shorts and hiking boots.

Shima glanced at Sango's feet. "Are you comfortable hiking in sneakers?"

Sango wore Adidas running shoes. She didn't have appropriate footwear for hiking, so she nodded. Shima slipped a backpack on her shoulders and pointed the women to the left. They started walking in a tight cluster toward a trail along the riverbank.

"What about the men?" asked Sango.

Sara the goddess answered for her. "We don't do activities with them for the first week."

Hearing her speak, Sango guessed Sara was in her early twenties.

That would simply not do. Sango would have to figure something out. She remembered that she would see Kuranosuke at dinner. Five hours from now.

Shima turned to the three of them. "We'll walk along the river for about a mile, and then we'll turn up that mountain, and hike to the top."

She pointed at a low peak in the near distance. "Round-trip, it's about six miles."

Sango was glad to hear it. She hadn't been running since she left Tokyo, and she needed the exercise. It was one of those things: with all the time in the world to go for a long jog, Sango had killed the hours in the bar of the Sapporo Inn instead. Five minutes of hiking and Sango surrendered to the sensation, legs churning, heart beating. Some of the tension of the past couple of days eased as she marched. The sun shone through the trees. Sango listened to her own breathing, and the birds. The women fell into a line. Shima, Sango, Sara and last, Keiko.

"Keiko-chan and Sara-chan have already been here for a day, Sango-chan." Shima told her. "They filled out a questionnaire. I'll leave one for you in your room. If you start right after dinner, you can finish it before bed."

"I'll need three hours to fill it out?" Sango asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"It's a very thorough questionnaire."

Sango turned and noticed Sara and Keiko rolling their eyes.

Shima continued. "I'd like each of you to tell the group why you've come to Inward Bound. Sango-chan?"

Sango didn't feel like talking. She was hiking. And she didn't think Shima would appreciate the truth, that the combination of nowhere to live and raw lust were what propelled her to enlist. So instead, Sango drew a thumbnail sketch of her romantic history, her serial dumpings, her Last Girlfriend-itis, and her escape from Tokyo. She concluded by saying, "I'm into change. Change of scenery, and change of mind-set. I want all the change I can get, especially in my relationships. Never thought I'd say this: I'm red-hot for some hard-core learning and growing."

Wow. Did I mean that?

Shima nodded. "Keiko-chan?"

Sango turned toward the brunette, who was already sweating. The shine on her forehead attracted a fly. She swatted at her forehead and asked, "Did you bring water? How far have we gone? Only half a mile?! Kami, I'm already getting a blister!"

After assurances from Shima that she had water, moleskin and trail mix, Keiko told them her story.

"I'm from Boston, America, the place where I grew and was raised. Big town, and tons of guys. I'm part-American, on my otou-san's side. My okaa-san was Japanese. I feel like I've systematically dated every single one of them. I've met men in bars, at clubs, blind dates, fix-ups, on the Internet, at parties, at work. I've used every dating resource available. I am out there. Out There! Capital "O", capital "T". I will go to my grave knowing that I exhausted every last possible means to find a man. Can we slow down, please? We're not going to jog up this mountain. Holy shit, look at Sango-chan! She's hardly sweating! What is wrong with you?"

The group shifted into first gear. Shima wasn't sweating much either, Sango noticed. Sara was breathing shallowly. She was slim, but out of shape. Shima fished in her backpack for water. She handed a bottle to each of them, and Keiko insisted on stopping to take a drink. They'd reached the foot of the mountain, with miles to go before they got to the top.

"If I talk and drink and hike at the same time, I'll get a cramp." Keiko stated.

This could be bad. Keiko might complain and bitch the entire way up and down the mountain. Shima tried to calm her, while Sara stared into the distance, seemingly in her own universe. Finally, Keiko was able to continue walking and talking.

"So I've dated, dated and dated some more. I've been on hundreds, but I haven't had one--not one--bonafide relationship. I've managed to hold on to a man for a few months here and there. But never with the understanding that we were a couple, that it was ever more than a casual sexual connection, a wait-and-see kind of thing. And even those arrangements ended prematurely. He'd say he met someone else, or was getting back together with an old girlfriend, or he wasn't that in to me. Or I'd end it because he wasn't worth the five minutes of my time anyway. No man has ever told me he loved me. I've never been in love. Never been with a man I know will be around in a month or a year, who cares about what I do all day long. Which is merchandising. I work for the Boston Red Sox organization--another losing proposition. So that's why I'm here, I mean, apart from visiting family. In the spirit of leaving no stone unturned, I've come to the Inward Bound of my okaa-san's country that is Japan."

Then she paused, gasping. "It didn't say in the literature that we would have to hike." she managed to say. "Shit, my foot. I'm getting a hot spot on my big toe."

Shima agreed to stop and tape up her foot. While they rested, Sango sipped her water, careful not to gulp. Her thighs were warmed up, jumpy, and wanted to run. The woods were quiet, except for the sounds of buzzing insects and chatty birds. Sara leaned against a tree. The sun shining through the leaves cast a light shade of green on her glossy black hair. They both made eye contact, smiled awkwardly and looked back at the ground. Sango was struck by the inherent contradiction of the situation--the natural setting, the unnaturalness of confiding one's fears and failings to strangers.

Keiko was finally patched up and the women continued the hike. Sara was the last to be asked to speak. Sango was impressed by her matter-of-fact tone.

"I live in Osaka, Shikoku, but I go to parties and events in Tokyo every week. That's how I meet dates. My parents and their friends make introductions. I'll find myself sitting next to a man at a dinner party on Saturday, and on Monday, he'll send me flowers and jewelry. He'll pursue me relentlessly for a month or two, and I'm always reluctant at first. These guys never try to get to know me. They want me for other reasons. I'm aware of it, but all those Tiffany boxes and phone calls and invitations to box seats at the ballet--they can wear a girl down. And the talk, too. How much they want me, how they can't stop talking about me."

A stark contrast to Keiko's story. Sango glanced at the curvy chestnut, who seemed to be distracted by a tree root on the trail.

Sara went on. "I'll tell you about Touya-kun. He was the most recent. He worked for my chichi-ue, and Chichi-ue insisted I date him. We did the circuit together. A charity ball in the Temple of Amida, dinners at Hitoshi's, bungalows at the Umi Club. He bought me a diamond necklace, and sent a dozen white roses every day for a month."

"What a bastard." Keiko shook her head distastefully.

"He never talked to me." Sara continued. "He'd sit next to me, or across from me, look into my eyes and stroke my forearm. And then he'd take a cell phone call for an hour. He was after me because I'm the boss's daughter. My parents didn't believe me, even after I told Haha-ue that Touya-kun never tried to kiss me. He didn't seem attracted to me at all. Haha-ue refused to listen. She said he was a gentleman, but I knew the truth. One night, I insisted Touya-kun come to my bedroom with me. I put on a nightie and pranced around. And he sat on my bed, completely frozen. I had to grab his dick before he'd admit he was gay, and then he ran out. I felt bad for him, but relieved. My parents didn't believe me when I told them what happened. They must have had their hearts set on him for me. I had to get out. I made the arrangements to come here in secret. I left a note at home saying I was going to America for a month, to throw them off completely."

Keiko fixed her gaze on the brunette and asked, "What was your last name again?"

"Ieyasu."

The chestnut's eyes widened in surprise. "I knew it! You're the heiress to the Ieyasu Pharmacy chain! I've seen your picture in gossip columns. You're worth millions! Your haha-ue is Aya Ieyasu, former supermodel! And your chichi-ue is Shinosuke Ieyasu, megamogul. He's bigger than Donald Trump!"

"He's much shorter, actually." Sara said, smiling a little. "I'd appreciate your discretion."

"Of course, you have it." Shima said, giving Keiko and Sango a warning.

The women climbed on. Sango stole glances at Sara. One could be born to every advantage, and still struggle with the most elemental human need. Sango felt sorry for the heiress. But she didn't know what to do with her pity, or what to say to her, and found herself slowing down so she wouldn't walk next to her.

Shima kept up with Sara, though, and the two women spoke quietly to each other. Sango and Keiko were a few paces behind. Keiko was breathing too heavily to speak, and Sango was glad not to have to talk anyway. With each step, her thoughts traveled away from her romantic plight, and into her body. She hadn't done much hiking before. But she decided she liked it, especially the sense that she was moving closer to the sky.

Keiko groaned suddenly. "For Kami's sake! We've been hiking for over an hour! Are we there yet?"

"Just another few minutes." Shima answered her.

True to her word, Shima led the small group over one last tricky patch, and they were at the top.

The surface at the summit was rocky, a flat granite slab with sparse grass poking between cracks. The sun was hotter, brighter, the trees gone. Sango was blinded for an instant, and when her eyes adjusted, she could see for miles. Hills, meadows, the river below. Everywhere lush and green. Shima pointed out a red house with a silver roof in the river valley below.

"That's the Federal." she said. "Look how far we've come."

The Inward Bound mansion was the size of a shogi piece. Seeing it, how tiny and abstract it was(she could line it up to sit on her fingertip), filled Sango with a warm glow. Even Keiko smiled at the idea, the measurable accomplishment of hauling one's ass from point A to point B.

Shima invited them to sit down, to pull up a rock, any rock. She unzipped her backpack and took out three, small, round mirrors.

"When you look in the mirror, it's usually to fix your hair or put on makeup." she said to them. "To examine your body, searching for problem areas. We look at ourselves to see the flaws, not beauty. And we look at predictable times. In the morning, after using the bathroom, and before bed. We hardly ever see ourselves when we aren't prepared for inspection. But only when you're unprepared can you see your true self, your true beauty."

She handed a mirror to each woman. Sango held it in her palm, the sun reflecting on the surface, making a plate of light.

"Hold it up. Look at your faces." Shima instructed.

Sango obeyed. Her skin was red, and beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and the sides of her face. In the direct sunlight, she could see every wrinkle, every pore. The landmarks--eyes, nose, mouth--were in their usual places. But something about the whole face, her expression, maybe, looked completely different. Sango was surprised by the image. She gazed at the floating foreign face in the mirror. It was her, but not her.

Keiko and Sara seemed as transfixed by the strangers in their mirrors.

Shima smiled. "The light does funny things on top of a mountain."

Keiko frowned suspiciously at her own reflection. "Are these trick mirrors?"

"Do you like what you see?" asked Shima.

Sango blinked, testing the image. Objectively, she should be horrified by the bumps and lines. But she wasn't. Her face was stripped down, no protective smirk or practiced seductive stare. She smiled at herself, liking the way her lips and eyes moved, the shadows on her cheeks. The image was clear and honest, her expression empty. She wasn't quite sure this was the standard definition of beauty. But Sango liked the woman looking back at her.

Placing the mirror in her lap, Sango asked, "Is this Lesson One?"

Shima turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"Being honest and natural is sexy."

Shima shrugged and said, "We'll take a short breather and then head back. Don't worry, it's all downhill from here."

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Chichi-ue - formal term for father

Haha-ue - formal term for mother

tatami - traditional Japanese flooring

Sensei - supposed to be used to address teachers/masters, doctors, writers, etc., anyone who's a professional, or knows far more than anyone else does. So Yoshihiko-sensei means "Dr. Yoshihiko".

shogi - Japanese chess, the pieces all seemed to be referred to as "shogi pieces"

A/N: ;) Okay. How'd y'all like that? Huh? Huh?
XD Finally! Our leading man has been mentioned in the story. e.e Miroku Yoshihiko. Yoshihiko-sensei...
;) Are you guys excited now? Hmmmmmm?
XD Okay I'll stop! I won't pester you guys any further! But if you want to see the next chapter, ya mast revu moi! Pweeeeeesss! Give me more than 5 at least and I'll make his entrance even more dramatic( ;) and impressive) than when it was made in the book!