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Pretty Kagome: Chapter 1: Chance Meeting Part 02

~SugarRos

.o0o0o0o0o.

“Quite frankly, it is the task of outside analysts and activists to call for a consistent policy while recognizing that the activities of our government will inevitably be far from coherent, and will reflect much interest.”

Inuyasha sighed and tried to look as bored as he possibly could. He knew his father would have it out with him later for not at least pretending to be the upstanding, decent son, but he just didn’t care. He wanted out as soon as possible.

The man his father was talking with gave a curt nod, and brought his overgrown eyebrows together in deep thought. “Yes, I could agree.” He replied in a stiff, haughty voice. “However, democracy promotion is most likely to have the central role it merits if we advocate for it rather than accepting the inevitability of compromise.”

Oh, what the ******** were they even talking about? His teeth ground together as he forcefully stopped himself from letting out a low, emanate growl. ‘Don’t scare him off, don’t scare him off.’ He chanted to himself in his head. He was in enough trouble as it was, and he didn’t need another lecture from his old man.

“Yes, well,” his father continued, giving Inuyasha a rather stern glance. “The United States does need to be careful about the verbal support it gives to those struggling for democracy. This is why here, as in other matters, we should be guided largely by the desires of the local civil society. Egyptians fighting for free - excuse me - Inuyasha! Stop yawning like a dimwit and place some input into the conversation please! -for free elections and an independent judiciary are pleading for our support and urging us not to give the Egyptian government good marks.” He glanced up at Inuyasha, who was a good foot taller than him, and folded his arms. “And what do you think, oh ever-so-willing son of mine?”

Inuyasha stuck his nose in the air and folded his arms like his father, just to piss him off more.

“Yes, Inuyasha, please, what do you think of the matter?” His father’s friend asked eagerly, his hands clasped together as if he were genuinely interested instead of just kissing rich a**.

Inuyasha took in a deep breath and glared down at his father, before breaking out into a huge grin. “We should oblige, of course. Iranian democrats, on the other hand, have quietly made it clear that our rhetoric about regime change is not helpful, and we should listen to those requests as well.” He couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face at the look his father gave him. Oh yeah, it was a surprise, alright. He’d made his father out to be an a**. Score one for him, zero for his uppity dad.

“I certainly agree.” The other man rambled on, sweating more with each moment. Gods, why the hell did everyone want to kiss his father’s a**? Sure, he was a big, mean canine demon, but all he had was money. Inuyasha snorted down at the man and, with a rushed ‘excuse me,’ turned on his heel and headed over to the exit. Maybe he could sneak away and watch some television up in his bedroom.

“Hello stranger.” A low, raspy, yet feminine voice purred out to him. He froze in his tracks and turned, plastering on the most polite smile he could muster.

“Kikyou.”

She wasn’t grinning, she was glaring. Which didn’t necessarily mean that she was angry or annoyed, she just tended to look that way all the time. Most would explain her look as ‘regal’ or ‘high class’ when in reality, she was just stiff and emotionless. Okay, scratch that. The girl wasn’t emotionless, really. He’d actually seen a couple emotions in the three years that they’d dated. One rage, one upset, and one, just one small smile that had done him in, in the first place. Of course, she’d never shown that smile again.
Manipulative b***h. He just couldn’t ever read her.

“Where are you going.” It wasn’t really a question. Kikyou had a way of staying everything as a statement. It made it really hard to argue with her.

“Just, ah... upstairs.” Inuyasha mumbled out, suddenly fidgety. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being around her, he just felt uneasy being around her.

“Might I join you? I’m actually rather bored.” Her eyebrow raised, daring him in her own nonchalant way to decline her request.

He had to think quick. He didn’t want to be alone with her. Because he was someone else when he was alone with her. And he was trying to separate their lives as much as possible. “Ah, well.” He muttered, his head running with excuses. “I was just going up to change and then I’ll be out with Miroku. I think he wants to hit the pub...”

It was a lame excuse, but he could tell by the way her delicate nose wrinkled in the middle that it had worked. She despised Miroku. It had been one of their major dating issues, his best friend being who he was, and Kikyou being... well... Kikyou.

“I’ll, ah... see you around.” He added lamely as he turned and left the room, feeling her steely gaze burn into the back of his neck. Jesus, it’d been over a year now, and she still gave him the creeps. That sort of creepy feeling had been sort of a turn on when they’d gotten together. She’d been so different from every other girl that came knocking on his door to court. He’d actually welcomed the change, was glad for it, and drank in as much of her as he could.

...Until he found out what she was truly like.

Not that it was a big slap in the face for him. It was just a realization that had sort of moved into his subconscious slowly, until he just knew. He’d probably known all along.

It wasn’t as if it was easy being one of the most eligible bachelors in his country. For one thing, he had all these fake, air-headed, although beautiful, women trying to snag him left and right. It was like a sick game, they way they all vied for his attention. Games like the one Kikyou was now playing, with her deep-waterish-smelling perfume, and her hair all fluffy and kept, her light pink, glossy lips, and that damn perfect body of hers that, he had to admit, drove him absolutely crazy in bed.

The girl was actually someone who really, truly didn’t believe that showing some skin and offering all sorts of forbidden pleasure would get her money in the end. His house and a few nice cars and a large pool and a set income for life. She’d gone about it in a completely different way. Plunging into his mind, getting him to open up and confide in her. Never again would he allow that to happen. Sex, on the other hand, was something absolutely, completely different.

And was the sex ever great. Full of hard, powerful thrusting, and hot-and-heavy breathing, and slick skin-on-skin.

He always got turned on just being around her. Which was very, very dangerous. Because right before they’d broken it off, she’d already begun to talk about marriage, something that scared Inuyasha out of his skin. <******** that.

He wasn't going to marry anyone.

He liked being single. Of course, the reason behind such a feeling could easily just be because he had yet to find a woman other than Kikyou with an intelligence level higher than a five-year-old. How sad was that? He'd courted girls before, of course. And there was that one time with Kikyou that he actually thought he was in love.

Love...

That emotion, He later found out, didn’t exist at all. Being at the ripe age of twenty-two and all, his father insisted that he at least find someone new to court so the public didn't think he was gay or had testicular cancer.

Which was absolutely ridiculous.

Because Inuyasha was nowhere near being gay. But if he’d even seemed to be gay, his father insisted that it would ruin his reputation.

Inuyasha disagreed, of course. He believed, in fact, that his father’s numbers in popularity would grow, since being gay seemed to be plenty okay with the public these days.

But whatever. He wasn’t gay, and he could assure anyone that he did not have testicular cancer.

Anyway, back to the point. He didn't like women crawling all over his because he happened to look good in spandex. (Or so they’d announced in CosmoGirl.) Playgirl had actually approached him with the idea of being a centerfold in their magazine. Thankfully, that was one thing him and his father agreed was a bad idea.

Not that Inuyasha was the shy type. He wasn’t really a flirt, either. He liked to think of himself as being direct, which is why games like the one Kikyou was pulling did not catch his interest.

Anymore than it already had, anyway.

No, a flirt he was not. If he wanted sex, he got it. And it was satisfying to a point. A bit since he’d gotten over the first hit of puberty. Man, had that been a killer. But he was much more able to control his urges, which he was thankful for.

He sprinted to his room and threw off his penguin suit, grabbing his favorite pair of jeans and his Hollister t-shirt, pulling it over his head and finally stretching out, feeling much more comfortable now that he was out of his formal wear. He slipped on his sneakers and headed out the door, feeling the urge to just get away from the stuffy music and his stuffy father and the stuffy business men and his stuffy ex-girlfriend. He just wanted to drive.

.o0o0o0o0o.

Poor Inuyasha, having to deal with a stuffy family life... Aw.

Action in the next part, I promise!

~SugarRos

Pretty Kagome: Chapter 1: Chance Meeting Part 04

City lights flashed by, blurring into some strange sort of neon pattern in Inuyasha’s eyes. The wind that blew in through his window rushed through his hair, which he’d pulled back into a leather thong, and numbed his ears, which were currently pressed flat against his head.

He was thoroughly enjoying the quiet ride, relishing in the fact that he’d gotten away from his father’s house successfully. The event his father had thrown was just like every other one he held. It-

“Well, that party sucked.”

Leave it to Miroku to be blunt. Not that Inuyasha minded. Actually, it was one thing he could really count on, which was why he had been drawn to Miroku in the first place. It helped that he worked for Inuyasha’s father, too. One of their favorite past times was to rag on the old man.

“Such a waste.” Miroku continued from the passenger seat of Inuyasha’s Nissan Skyline GTR, an eighteenth birthday present from daddy-dearest. “I mean, think about the parties YOU could be throwing.” He shook his head to give a disappointed effect.

“I don’t throw parties.” Was Inuyasha’s curt reply, as he sped towards a u-bend in the road. Miroku’s hands clasped onto the handle up by the window and let out a small ‘eep’ as Inuyasha turned the wheel and made the bend perfectly.

“I’m just saying you SHOULD.” Miroku shot back as soon as he was relaxed enough to do so. “Your. House. Is. HUGE.” He emphasized, and waved his hands in the air erratically. “We could throw a rave.”

“I don’t dance.”

“You should. I get lots of the ladies that way.” He hesitated. “Although, you really don’t need much help in that area anyway.” Inuyasha smirked, knowing what his friend said was true, and turned another corner, racing towards the slum area of the city. “Where are we off to this time?” Miroku asked nonchalantly, not really caring much.

“I just want some greasy ramen. I’m starving.”

“There was plenty of food at your place.”

“No, there was plenty of escargot at my place. Not even an ounce of fatty calories. Why would I want that when I can have stuff that actually has a taste to it?”

“Because we have to drive to the middle of bum city to get it. The air down here doesn’t do well with my skin.” He flipped down the sun visor and opened the mirror, rubbing his cheek as if he were wiping off dirt.

Inuyasha glanced over. “I see a pimple.”

“No you don’t, I’m flawless.” Miroku shut the mirror and grinned back, not in the least bit falling for his friend’s eager pry to get him to freak.

“Here we are.” Inuyasha stated, as they pulled up behind a dirt-red beamer, the license plate was crooked, and the left back tire was about to go flat. His car definitely stuck out in these parts, compared to the one that seemed to blend into the background in front of them.

They both opened their respective doors and slipped out, Miroku stretching and looking slightly relieved that they were over Inuyasha’s speed-driving.

Inuyasha inhaled a deep, relaxing breath. Visiting the slums always seemed to calm him down. Probably because it tended to remind him that even though he couldn’t stand his father’s way of life, he still had a nice, warm bed to sleep in. He knew that well over half the people living in the slums didn’t. Plus, no one would ever kiss his a** down here. In fact, people plain ignored him.
That’s what he liked best.

He glanced up into the sky and noticed that he couldn’t see the stars. The streets were lined with lamps that flickered on and off, as well as neon sighs for pubs and strip clubs and fast food joints. They blocked out the natural light of the sky, one thing that Inuyasha actually liked about living in such an upper-class suburban area.

“We going in, or what?” Miroku’s voice pierced through his thoughts, and he nodded at his friend, stepping up onto the sidewalk and walking in his usual stride towards his favorite ramen joint.

Inuyasha would realize later that he probably should have stayed at home. It would have been a hole heck of a lot less complicated to have gone along with Kikyou’s strange, slightly creepy seduction. He should have just ******** her then and there instead of running off on some lower-class adventure to fill his stomach. He could have never expected what came next.

"Stop it! Please, just leave me alone!"

Inuyasha’s ears perked up. They twisted around as his head turned to follow and he squinted down a dark alley way they were passing. Instinctively, he reached out and grabbed Miroku’s shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

“What the- What?” His friend demanded,

The voice of the young girl who was being hassled wavered and she let out a sob. "Please!" But the four men who were surrounding her laughed off her plea of desperation and the leader of the pack cocked back his fist and hit her hard. Inuyasha winced as his sensitive demon hearing picked up the sickening sound of bone-on-bone.

“Jesus!” Miroku breathed beside him, having caught on to the scene that was playing out before their eyes. <******** b***h cut my hand!” The guy was saying, sounding absolutely outraged. He motioned to his buddies and they picked up her limp body, and positioned her on her knees, getting ready to do the very deed in a way that made Inuyasha’s blood boil.

He watched as the girl came-to and started struggling, spitting up blood. The leader of the little gang pulled down his zipper and laughed in a menacing sort of way.

Well, crap.

Inuyasha was one to normally stay out of other people’s business. He didn’t like getting his hands dirty over strangers. And of course, she was just a prostitute, that much was evident by the way she dressed. He probably would have been better off just walking by and letting the guys have their fun. More than likely, the girl was a drug-addict anyway, and was going to die in a few years whether she was raped and killed or not.

“We just going to stand here?” Miroku asked in a whispered tone, his eyes locked on the scene in front of them. <********." Inuyasha growled out in reply. No, he couldn't just stand there. ‘******** me and my conscience.’ He berated himself, stepping into the ally and sucking in a deep breath, steeling himself. Not that he was scared. He didn’t scare easy. But it was just such a pain. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He threw out at the group, puffing out his chest yet looking as calm as he could possibly be. He saw the girl tense and lift her head up towards his voice. “A local gang-bang?"

All four snapped their heads around, eyes wide, looking as if they’d just been caught steeling candy. They definitely hadn’t counted on anyone caring enough to interrupt.

"Who the ******** are you?!"

Inuyasha let his face form a menacing grin, one that was meant to place fear in their minds, rather than make them feel welcome. "No one you know." He replied, then, for good measure, added: "Probably.” He could feel the growl forming in his throat, the sound reverberating his vocal chords as his lip lifted slightly into a sneer. The usual adrenaline rush that flushed through his veins made his vision sharper, his hearing more acute, and the hairs on the back of his neck under his ponytail stood on end. He cracked his fingers as he let his posture do the rest of the talking for him. He heard Miroku shuffling his feet to his left and knew he had his back. Miroku was actually a pretty valuable asset to have in a fight, as he’d proved many times before in hanging around Inuyasha.

His thoughts of thankfulness for having Miroku at his side were interrupted by a desperate whimper, which came from the girl being forced on the ground.

“Please...” She whispered, the sound floating from her lips and reaching Inuyasha’s sensitive ears. He felt them twitch as he became more enraged. A lot of things pissed him off, got on his nerves. But abuse of women, even prostitutes, was the pedestal of his anger, the one nerve hit that set his blood boiling. Even his father couldn’t make him feel such acerbity.

Again, her plea found his ears. "Please..." She started to cry, hot, salty tears, and her voice grew stronger, more desperate. "Please help me..."

Something in Inuyasha snapped. He wasn’t seeing the usual red that flooded his senses when he was about to get into a drunken fight outside of some stupid night club. Instead it was as if everything around him slowed down.

"Mister, you've walked into the wrong ally." The leader of the pack threw back at him menacingly. He obviously had not caught onto the fact that Inuyasha was actually a demon. Humans today just did not have common sense, what with trying to start a fight with a demon, he was about to be shredded. Such a reason, among many others, was why there were so many enforced rules and regulations against street fights. The leader turned to his sidekicks. "Kill him." He ordered simply.

Slowly the three underlings moved towards him, dropping the girl onto her hands and knees, but not before giving her another punch to the head, knocking her out cold.

“Hey, watch it!” Miroku threw out a warning, his finger pointed out, glaring not at all unlike his friend had.

They laughed at his attempt to be heroic and surrounded the two.
Inuyasha could smell the fact that no one in the little gang had any sort of demon in them, which was actually rather rare. Dumb luck on his part. This would be so easy.

He smirked, half-hidden in the contrasting shadows from a single over-hanging street lamp.

They moved as one, and Inuyasha could tell they had done such a thing before. Probably killed most people who had stepped up and tried to be brave. Boy, were they ever in for a rude awakening.

Even so, from the way the gang members attacked, he knew none of them had a killer’s instinct like he had, which came quite naturally to someone like Inuyasha. They’d be easy to deal with.

He turned to Miroku and raised an eyebrow, a silent question asked if he had gathered the same information, and came to the same conclusion. Miroku nodded, a sudden grin on his lively face. Fighting is what the two of them had lived for. The rush of excitement and the bunching and flexing of muscles used to pound out opponents like hamburgers. It was sheer bliss.

In a sudden blur, the gang attacked.

And were all unconscious in three seconds flat.

Literally. Three seconds. Inuyasha had been tag-teamed, leaving only one for Miroku, who quickly snared his opponent into a headlock and flipped him over his back, slamming him with all his human might into the brick wall; a sickening crack emitting from his back and a gurgling sound from his mouth was all it took to reign him unconscious.

Inuyasha had actually been disappointed, having a much easier time with the two that came after him. He was stronger than Miroku of course, but he’d at least been hoping for more than he’d got. Both had run at him, heads lowered and fists cocked. Inuyasha grabbed the cuffs of their shirts and rammed their heads together.

That was that. The leader of the gang that wasn’t so much of a gang anymore stood, trembling, stuttering as Inuyasha stepped slowly into the light, his canine-like ears and amber-colored eyes showing under no cover.

The guy peed his pants.

And then Inuyasha swung back and punched him in the nose with all the might he could muster, literally sending him flying down the ally and up against the wall, sliding down and ending in a heaped mess, blood pooling in his mouth and dripping onto his shirt.

Inuyasha snorted, his vision returning to normal and breathed in deeply, holding back a choke from the smell of urine and now blood.

Miroku came to his side, clasping his hand onto his friend’s shoulder and breathing heavily. They glanced at each other before breaking out into their own respective grins.

“Holly living God.” Miroku breathed out, laughing a loud, boisterous laugh. “That was freaking awesome!”

Inuyasha shrugged. “What the hell are you talking about, that was the most pathetic attempt at a jumping I’ve ever come up against.”

“Inuyasha.” Miroku stated, his wide grin spreading across his entire face. “We saved this girl’s life. That makes it ten times cooler.”

He snorted at his friends obvious display of excitement, but grinned back. It was contagious, that stupid grin of his. But he had to admit that he felt good about himself. Most of his fights centered around arguments regarding disrespect or racism demon-human issues, and such fights usually commenced around the time everyone involved was quite drunk. This was indeed different. A situation where a life had been saved.

In thought of the girl, Inuyasha realized he should probably check and see if she was breathing, as she was still lying unconscious where the men had left her. He turned from Miroku and strutted over, his eyebrows drawn together in an intense sort of way. Kneeling down, he hesitated, then the thought that he might catch something if he touched her fluttered into his mind. He sat there, his elbows on his knees, debating with himself when his friend came up beside him.

“She alive?” Miroku asked, peeking over his shoulder in the contrasting light.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled his reply.

“Poke her.”

“You poke her!”

“No, that’s weird.” Miroku turned his head, searched the alley for something. “Look, a stick.” He stated and went to grab it, smiling in an accomplished sort of way as he brought it back and tentatively stretched it out towards the girl.

“What the hell are you doing?” Inuyasha shot his arm out and grabbed the stick, his face twisted into mild humor and slight disgust. “Don’t stick her like she’s a dead cat!”

“Well, I’m not going to touch her with my bare hands. Are you going to touch her?”

“Jesus, I’ll do it.” He grumbled, annoyed but very aware that Miroku was merely pushing him to do what he would have done anyway. He reached out gingerly, resting his fingertips onto her cold shoulder and nudged her a little roughly, taking his hand back and waiting.

Nothing happened.

Both boys stared down at the girl, each starting to think that she just might have died. Miroku cleared his throat and pushed against Inuyasha’s back, edging him on. “Check her pulse or something.” He emphasized.

Inuyasha shot him another glare over his shoulder. “Would you chill the ******** out? I’ll do it, okay?” Again, he moved his attention to the girl, and reached out slowly, grimacing as he touched her neck and felt for a pulse. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt it, surprisingly strong and steady, beating against his thumb. “She’s alive.” He breathed out, much louder than he’d meant to due to mollification. His fingers stayed where they were as he looked down at the girl, more happy than he’d thought he’d have been. And the thought flittered through his mind that she had some pretty damn soft skin considering she was... ah... loose.

Then she moaned, interrupting Miroku’s loud shout of relief and rolled over, molding her face into one of pain. “What...?” She mumbled out, her eyes still closed.

Inuyasha stood and glanced at Miroku, his face snapping back into one of seriousness.

“Let’s go before she comes-to.”

“Shouldn’t we see if she’s okay?” Miroku asked, his attention still drawn down.

“Maybe she’ll be thankful and pay us, if you know what I mean.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Inuyasha looked disgustingly at his friend for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Miroku was a letch, but sometimes he just went too far. “Shut up, you ******** perv.” He answered. “She just got pushed around, it probably happens all the time. Besides,” he added, “more likely than not she’s drugged up, anyway.” Even though the thought sped through his mind that she sure as hell didn’t look as if she was on anything. In fact, now that he was getting a better look at her face and body, she looked downright healthy for someone in her line of business.

Her face, first of all, was clean and smooth. Not overly-pimply or scarred in anyway. She could have been in makeup commercials, although her looks were kind of plain. Nothing very stunning. She was a little thin for her length, but she was a streetwalker, so it wasn’t all that surprising. He noticed her bright red lips didn’t match her skin tone. It made her skin seem almost transparent next to the neon color.

Inuyasha tilted his head as he watched her come to. The more he looked, the more she didn’t make sense to him. She didn’t smell clean, exactly, but she didn’t stink of semen or musk, outside of the four men who had tried to do her in tonight. She smelled more like shrimp, actually. Like the docks he used to visit as a kid, watching the workers as they transported sea food.

The girl had rolled onto her side, and he finally got a good view of her age. Slightly taken aback, he kneeled down a bit closer, studying her youthful features. “Gods...” He muttered out, more to himself than to Miroku who was still watching from over his shoulder. “She can’t be any older than in her teens...”

It was true, she didn’t look a day over twenty at the most. He leaned even closer, as if in a trace, more curious than anything. Wondering how someone her age could ever become what she had. His frown deepened, and he wondered if she even had a place to sleep. Again, he was buried with an onslaught of realization that she just didn’t smell or look as if she were homeless.

So lost in his thoughts was he that he didn’t notice when her lashes fluttered, or when her lids opened to meet his gaze, and it took him a few seconds before he realized that she was now conscious.

She seemed dazed, but he was frozen, having been caught red-handed in her personal space. Before he could retreat she sucked in a lung full of breath and let out the most agonizing, ear-piercing scream he had ever heard.

Stunned, he didn’t hear Miroku shout out a warning, and he definitely didn’t see her hand draw back.

His brain caught up with him, however, when her palm connected to his cheek, and he felt a slight stinging sensation spread across the left side of his face.

Her face was wild, scared, and really, he couldn’t blame her, she’d probably thought he was one of them. But still, his temper rose, and he shot his head back as if she was on fire, and he glowered down at her. “You b***h, what the hell was that for?!” He yelled, the anger evident in his voice.

“Don’t you touch me!” She yelled back, just as furious. “I’ll... I’ll-” Her voice trailed off and she seemed to fall back into a light slumber, still rather out of it.

Neither of the boys spoke for a few seconds, then Miroku’s voice broke the silence. “Should we take her to a hospital?”

Inuyasha let out a snort as he stood and brushed gutter grime off his jeans. “******** it. The whore slapped me.”

“She thought you were about to ravish her.”

“I’m not ********’ like those guys!” He spat, more pissed than he should have been, considering events.

“Yeah, we’ll she doesn’t know that!” Miroku shot back, his ear-to-ear grin returning. “Dude, she totally b***h-slapped you.”

Inuyasha let out a menacing growl. “Shut up.” Then he turned and stalked out of the alleyway. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ve worked up an appetite.”

“But the girl-”

“Leave her.” He cut off his friend and turned the corner, anger rushing through him. Argh! See if he ever helped anyone again. Ungrateful b***h.

Miroku shrugged and followed after his friend, with one last glance back at the girl, then to the guys strewn about her. With an ‘oh well’ thought, he turned the corner also, figuring the guys wouldn’t be up and around for a few good days anyway.

.o0o0o0o0o.

Only minutes later, Kagome opened her eyes again, weary and in pain. This time no shadowy face loomed over her. Sitting up, she looked around; realization slowly dawning that someone had saved her.

But where had that someone gone?

She turned her aching head towards the opening of the alley, the street sparse, the lamps low, and an image of silver hair and intense gazes floated across her memory.

.o0o0o0o0o.

Dun, Dun, DUN.

~SugarRos

Pretty Kagome: Chapter 2: Hatched Plans Part 02

~SugarRos

.o0o0o0o0o.

Inuyasha stepped into the giant, well-furnished office of his father’s and shut the heavy wooden door behind him. The room was decorated in golden-brown hues, and had large, open windows which allowed sunlight to filter in and light up the vast space. Inoku Kobun stood with his back to Inuyasha, a silhouette against the bright sun.

Inuyasha cleared his throat. “Father, you wanted to see me?”

His father turned abruptly to face him, and pulled his giant leather chair out, moving to sit. “Ah, yes Inuyasha. Have a seat.” He grumbled out.

Inuyasha sat across from his father over the giant oak wood desk, straightening his tie so he wouldn’t hear any crap from his old man about his appearance.

“You look horrible. Your suit is wrinkled, where the hell have you been?”

So much for avoiding that. He stifled a growl and smoothed out his lapel with the palm of his hands. “I’ve just come from a meeting with the people from Clearwater Support Homes. They want me to launch their campaign for building new shelter homes.”

Inoku glared at his son. “Yes, I’d heard they were considering asking. You jumped aboard, right?”

Inuyasha hesitated, which was a mistake, and answered rather lamely. “Well, I’m not so sure…”

His father immediately jumped all over him. “Not so sure about what? Are you not aware of what good this could do for my campaign? The polls would shoot through the roof in my favor.”

“I know father, but-“

His face flushed red. “’But’ is not a word you want to use discussing this matter. You will do the ads. Every commercial, every print ad, every speech, are we clear?”

“I’m twenty-two years old, you can’t just-“

He stood, leaning aggressively over his large desk and pointed a finger at his son. “While you live under my roof unwed, I can tell you to do damn well whatever I want you to do.

You’ll do well to remember that.”

Inuyasha had leaned back slightly, but he dare not look away from his old man’s eyes. It wasn’t that he was scared of his father, but he was well aware of his strength and power, and while Inuyasha was damn strong and fast himself, he was still only a hanyou and his father would crush him if he stepped too far in the wrong direction.

He was taller than Inoku, at six-foot-three he towered four inches taller to be exact, and his muscles were more defined to be sure, but Inoku had a strength that didn’t just come from body mass. It was a strength that Inuyasha respected, although disliked all the same.

Inuyasha’s mother loved to talk about her husbands’ strength, as well as his kindness. Kindness that Inuyasha rarely saw himself, but which she insisted was there. She also liked to talk about how his greatness had been split up in two extreme ways between his two sons. Inuyasha’s half brother, born of another woman, had received Inoku’s strong, silent will, his cold demeanor, and his cunning strategizing ability, which had helped in making Inoku such a great politician.

Inuyasha, on the other hand, had received Inoku’s strong, stubborn will, his handsome looks, and his raging temper that flew out of control every now and then.

Inuyasha heaved in a sigh as his father sat back down, and nodded his head. “You’re right, father. I’ll do the Clearwater campaign.”

“That you will. But there is another matter at hand that I wish to discuss with you.” He placed his elbows on the desk and folded his fingers, peering at his son over his hands. “You’re soon to be twenty-three years old, and I’m not getting any younger. Soon you’ll have to take over my line of business.”

Inuyasha couldn’t hold back his snort of sarcasm. “Are you serious? You’re a hundred years old. You’ll live to be another three hundred, you’re not going anywhere soon.”

Inoku growled in warning. “Don’t push your luck, boy. Who says I have to be week with age to retire? I want to get out of this business within the next fifty, and you’ll be the one to take it over.”

“Can’t Sesshomaru-“

“Sesshomaru, while I don’t agree with his carrier choice, does run a legitimate line of work. You, however, still laze around my house as if you were five, the only work you do is ads for sports wear and guest star in television series. I have to force you to do anything charitable, and you fight me the whole way through!”

“And I’m not married.”

“And you’re not married!” His father stood in rage and paced behind his desk.

“Sesshomaru is married with four kids! He is stable and does not embarrass me!”

“He’s thirty!”

“He didn’t embarrass me when he was your age, either!” He leaned over the desk again, but this time grabbed onto his son’s tie and pulled him dangerously close to his face. “You will listen to me, and you will listen well. You will find a woman to marry. At this point, I don’t care if she’s full demon or mere human, but you will find one and marry her, and you will do it by your next birthday, or so help me, I will disown you and you will spend the rest of your days penniless and homeless! Let’s see if the ladies want you then!”

“Inoku, dear, what are you doing with my baby son?”

Inuyasha’s father’s face drained of color, and he let go of his son’s tie, looking across the room at the beautiful woman that stood in the door way. She was dressed in a simple, elegant black dress suit; her medium length hair tussled around her shoulders, and shopping bags hung at her hips.

“Ah, hello dear, me and Inuyasha were just having a little talk.”

“So I can see.’ She answered, and walked into the room, gracing her husband with a hug before turning to Inuyasha and smiling.

Inuyasha grinned back up at her. “Hi mom.”

“Hi beautiful, how’s my little boy?” She cooed and ruffled his hair as she sat down on the arm of his chair, giving him a half-hug. “Is daddy pushing you too hard?”

“Mom, I’m not twelve.” He did, however, wish he was once in a while. Although it was a little embarrassing that his mom babied him so much, she was still the one person he could say he loved flawlessly.

“I know, hon. My baby’s all grown up.” She gave a typical motherly sigh and leaned into his shoulder. “Did your father ask you to get married yet?”

“He mentioned it.”

Inoku grunted.

“Well you should listen to him honey. Your father cares about you, he just wants to see you happy. Besides, I think a woman would calm you down a bit.”

Okay, now the whole situation was getting a bit too personal for his liking. Inuyasha stood awkwardly and bowed slightly to his father. “If that’s all you needed me for-“

“Not so fast, I’m not done yet.” His father jumped up and rounded the desk, passing his wife, and stood looking up into Inuyasha’s face. “Listen and listen well. You will find a girl to marry by your next birthday, or the consequences will be dire. Understood?”

Inuyasha had to bite his tongue. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” Inoku turned his back, walking back to his desk as Inuyasha spun on his heel and headed heatedly towards the door. “Oh, Inuyasha, let me give you a possible solution.”

Inuyasha glanced back at his father over his shoulder, containing within him pure hatred he felt towards the man.

His father smiled a rather evil smile. “There’s always Kikyou.”

.o0o0o0o0o.

Sango/Miroku action next! heart

~SugarRos

Pretty Kagome: Chapter 2: Hatched Plan Part 04

~SugarRos

.o0o0o0o0o.

Kagome sighed when she walked into the empty, cluttered apartment, and glanced down at the table to see the electric bill thrown carelessly next to a bowl of unfinished cereal. Her stomach flipped as she picked up the unopened envelope and proceeded to rip open the back, her heart pounding.

‘Not more than a hundred. Please, not more than a hundred…’ She tore out the bill and flipped it open.

“Oh no…”

Defeated, she sat down heavily on the single chair in the kitchen and placed her face in her hands, willing herself not to cry. She was strong, and this was just something she needed to overcome.

Filled with sudden rage at her situation, she stood in anger and shoved the table, slamming it into the wall. She wasn’t done yet, though. Storming over to the bed, she tore down Akane’s posters and picked up the few books she owned, throwing them heavily against the door.

Breathing hard, her mind a blank, she slumped down onto the tattered bed and fell back so she was staring at the ceiling fan that never really worked.

Three hundred and sixty-seven dollars. Three hundred and sixty-seven dollars? Only two people lived in the apartment, how could that be right?

The bill was still crumpled up in her hand, and she unwrinkled the paper and went over the details of the bill. The one night that had cost the most was then Akane had thrown a party in the apartment, having a couple people over. Kagome had made a point of being away that night, she’d slept in the church chapel down the street for warmth.

It was very possible that was the night that made the bill so expensive, but what the hell had they been doing to use so much power?

Okay, she didn’t really want to know, but this bill was sure to get their electricity shut off, and that wasn’t so good. She was going to have to talk to Akane. Kagome was just sick of everything. The drugs, the people, the lack of money, the prostitution… It was just making her lose her mind. And it wasn’t good.

It was mid-afternoon, but Kagome closed her eyes and drifted off into a fretful light sleep, exhausted, and didn’t wake up until Akane slammed the door, announcing her arrival.

“I’m home!”

Kagome shot up in bed and blinked awake a few times before Akane came clearly into view. “A’kne.” She yawned groggily, glancing out the grimy window above the bed. It was dark out. “What time is it?”

“Mmmm, about eight o’clock, I was just gunna take a hit, then hit the street.” Akane passed Kagome reaching for her stash, which she kept in the bedside table, and seemed surprised when Kagome grasped her wrist. “What?”

“Akane, are you sober right now?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Can I talk to you?”

Akane hesitated. “Can I hit this first?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” She inhaled uncertainly. “It won’t take long, I promise.”
Akane glanced nervously from Kagome’s pleading eyes to the drawer that held her assumed happiness, before sitting down next to her room mate, a placid smile on her face. “What’s up?”

“I want out.”

She was stunned at how fast the words had come from Kagome’s mouth, without reservation. “What? Out of what?”

Kagome turned fully to face Akane, her eyes pleading. “I can’t stand it anymore, Akane.” She said. “I feel like I’m wasting away. I feel sick all the time, I’ve lost so much weight my clothes don’t fit me anymore and I haven’t eaten for a day and a half. I’m tired constantly, and I’m actually scared to go outside.” She let out a sigh, relieved to finally voice her thoughts. “I want out.”

“Out? Kagome, what-”

“You’re on some type of drug all the time, Akane, and because of it we’ve got no money. We can’t pay rent. You see this bill?” She waved the paper in front of Akane’s face. “Three hundred and sixty-seven dollars for this month’s electricity. What are we going to do when we’ve got no heat? What happens when the water is turned off next? Then when we get evicted? Where would we go? What would we do?”

Akane’s mouth was agape, staring at Kagome. “Well… I have friends we could-”

“Akane, I’m not staying with your drug-addict friends! I’m not comfortable around them.” Kagome stood and paced in front of her roommate. “You have to understand, I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“You haven’t been in the business very long Kagome, give it time.”

“Give it time to what?” Her voice was rising, becoming more emotional. “To end up homeless? Addicted to coke like you, Akane?”

Akane shook her head viciously. “No, you don’t want to try this stuff; I care about you too much to let you try this.”

Kagome paused in her pacing and turned her head to look directly at Akane. “And you don’t care about what will happen to me if I keep on selling myself for sex?”

After another head shake, Akane placed her hand up to her forehead. “I know it sounds bad Kagome, but look at me. I know I’ve got an addiction, but the whole sex thing?” She bit her lip. “It gets easier with time. I’ve never been attacked, I’ve never been forced to do anything I didn’t want and I’ve never been threatened. People make this business out to be far worse than it really is.”

“No, Akane.” Kagome kneeled in front of her friend, placing her hands on the girl’s knees. “No, I was attacked.”

Akane was taken aback. “What? When?”

“Last week. When you got sick and threw up in bed, remember?”

“Are you kidding me? Kagome, why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I don’t know!” She shook her head. “I got home and you were asleep, and I was so exhausted that I passed out. And then you were puking all over yourself, and the next couple of nights you were so sick I didn’t go anywhere, I just made sure you weren’t dying.”

“Kagome, what happened? Were you held up at gunpoint or what?”

”No, a gang of boys beat me up and tried to rape me. I tried to fight them but they were too strong, I couldn’t hold them off.”

“Oh my god, Kagome!” She stood, pulling Kagome up with her. ”I’m so sorry I wasn’t there!”

“It’s not your fault, Akane, don’t feel guilty about that.”

“But wait,” she pushed Kagome out at arm’s length; “you said tried. They tried to rape you?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, they tried. I’m not too sure what really happened, I passed out a couple of times, but I think someone saved me.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, it was so strange.” She sat back down on the bed, Akane following slowly after her. “I woke up and every guy that had been around me was unconscious and bleeding terribly. Some were probably dead.” She rested her face in her hands, trying to block the gruesome image. “I ran out of there as fast as I could move.”

“You totally lucked out, you know.” Akane said with awe. “Most girls in the business don’t survive attacks like that.”

“That’s the problem, Akane, I know how lucky I was, and I don’t want to push it again.” She shivered. “I’m so scared, I have to force myself to step outside. I keep seeing the faces of my attackers on every guy I pass. I can’t take it anymore. I haven’t been able to make any money, I won’t go on any jobs.”

This was true. Since the incident Kagome hadn’t been out working the streets again. Her body refused to let her. “This isn’t working for me, Akane, I can’t do it anymore. The whole reason I’m trying to raise money in the first place is to break my brother out of the orphanage, but with your coke habit and my refusal to work, how the hell am I going to do that?”

“Kagome, if you’re not working, where’s all the money coming from?”

Kagome blushed, and looked slightly away from Akane. “I, uh… Well, I’ve been pawning off some stuff.”

Akane raised her eyebrow. “Your stuff, I hope.”

She nodded.

“Well, it’s a living, I guess.” Akane shrugged, a small smile on her face.

Kagome faced her roommate again, placing their hands together, her eyes making direct contact. “Can you understand where I’m coming from? This,” she opened the drawer, revealing the cocaine, “is costing both of us, not just you. You need to get off it so we can pay rent. I’m running out of stuff to pawn.”

For some reason, the last sentence Kagome spoke hit a humor chord in Akane, who started to giggle. It was a lame, but contagious giggle, and soon Kagome was giggling right along with her.

“Well, don’t pawn the clothes off your back!” Akane laughed, holding her stomach.

“Don’t worry,” Kagome laughed back, “I’ll be pawning off your stuff soon.”
That shot them into more laughter, and it last a good while. After a few minuets, they calmed down, and Akane placed a reserved look on her face.

“You’re right, Kagome.” Akane nodded. “I need to get myself off this stuff. I’ve tried a few times, but it never stuck. Maybe I can kick it this time around.”

“That’s good to hear.” Kagome shrugged. “I guess I’ll just keep pawning.”
“What happens when you’ve gotten rid of everything you own? Then what’ll you do?” She smiled.

Kagome’s reaction was more serious. “I don’t know, Akane. I just can’t go back out on these streets anymore.”

“Tell you what we’ll do.” She patted Kagome’s knee. “We’ll go over to the richer side of town. I rarely go there because I’m usually alone, but if we go together, the other girls will be less likely to try anything funny.”

“Funny?”

She shrugged. “Eh, they can tell when us slum girls go up to their territory. But it’s all good. We’ll try that place. The guys pay extremely well, and most of the time they just want conversation and a boob-fondle. It’s actually very easy money. What do you say?”

Kagome hesitated before nodding. “Well, okay, I guess so.”

”Good! We’ll start first thing tomorrow, then!” Reassured, Akane stood and grabbed the bag that contained the cocaine, along with a small, square mirror, a razorblade, and a small straw. She held it up in front of Kagome’s face. “I’m just going to take these and dispose of them.”

Kagome nodded, the first big, genuine smile Akane had seen from her in a while. “Okay, great!” She clapped her hands together. “And Akane?” She added, as an afterthought.

Akane had been half way to the door, and turned her head over her shoulder to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you so much. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for you.”

Akane shrugged. “Don’t even mention it. You saved me also.” Then she opened the door and was gone.

.o0o0o0o0o.

Akane shut the apartment door behind her and breathed in a great, big, lungful of air. Then headed down the hall way and into the stairwell, kneeling on the stairs, where she tore open the bag of white rocks and proceeded to chop it up onto the small mirror with the razor.

She was focused. Determined. The talk with Kagome had been hell for her, and she had to use every inch of self-control she had not to tell her to shut up and then grab the drugs and run.

Once the powder was chopped fine enough, she took out the small straw and closed her left nostril while placing the tip of the straw in her right and breathing in. She drew the straw even with the white, powered line and inhaled her new source of life.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Then euphoria hit her and she stretched out, forgetting about the bag of goodies on the stair in front of her. She let out a laugh. Laughing at how stupid her room mate was, at how anyone could possibly believe she could get herself off such a great thing. How Kagome could possibly think Akane could achieve such a feat.

And then depression hit her full-force, and guilt ran through her body. No matter how naïve Kagome was, Akane still thought of her as a younger sister. She still loved the girl.

But Kagome didn’t understand how hopeless Akane’s life had become.

Akane would never be able to break her habit.

And she would surely bring Kagome down with her

.o0o0o0o0o.

Ohhhh nooes! The drugs!!!

Third chapter next!

~SugarRos

Pretty Kagome: Chapter 3: Tempted Offer Part 02

~SugarRos

.o0o0o0o0o.

“Come on, Sango, it was around here somewhere…”

Sango snorted as she trudged along behind Miroku. “What, you can’t remember? How drunk were you?”

“Why, Sango!” He replied without turning around. “I wasn’t drunk at all! I was merely accompanying Inuyasha out to get something to eat.” He tilted his head upwards to read the street sign, not really knowing exactly where they had been that night. The place did seem familiar, but that didn’t amount to much. He was sure, though, if he could just see the ally they’d found her in…

“Here?!” The hint of disgust was evident in Sango’s voice.

Miroku was currently on a mission to find the girl who’d been attacked that fateful night, and bring her back to help Inuyasha with his current dilemma. It was an awesome plan. An ingenious plan. A master plan. And no matter how many reasons Sango came up with for why it would fail miserably, he was sure that it would absolutely, positively work.

So sure, in fact, that he was sneaking behind Inuyasha’s back to complete his awesome, ingenious, master plan.

With this thought in mind, he turned to look at Sango, not watching where he was stepping, and promptly tripped over someone in the middle of the sidewalk.

Sango let out a sharp laugh.

Miroku cursed. He pushed himself up off his stomach, wincing at his hurt ribs and pride, and turned his head to see what he’d tripped over.

His eyes widened. His heart pounded.

…Could it be?

A girl with dark hair and a pale, pale face sat slumped up against the corner liquor store, her legs stretched out across the sidewalk, which is what he’d tripped over in the first place, her arms limp at her sides, her mouth slightly open.

Miroku turned to sit on his rump, his mouth agape in disbelief. It was her. It had to be. The memory of her struggling under the tight grip on the gang flashed through his mind. It was her, alright. The same facial features, the same dark hair, although she seemed thinner than he remembered, dirastically so, which was strange. It hadn’t even been a full week since he’d seen her.

He wondered if she’d eaten anything since he’d last helped in saving her life.

She wasn’t wearing the lipstick he remembered. She wasn’t even dressed the same. It was warm out, but she had dawned a very large, baggie hoodie, and tan pants that were obviously well warn. She obviously wasn’t working the streets today, although her kind tended to only work at night.

“Miroku?” Sango asked, kneeling beside him, having successfully fought off her laughter. “Is that her?”

“I think so.”

“You’re right, she’s not bad looking. In fact, she kinda reminds me of-“

“Sango.” He interrupted, reaching out ever so tenderly to place his finger on her pulse at the base of her neck. “Hold that thought.”

She didn’t seem to be breathing.

Quickly, he placed the back of his hand to her lips, staying as still as possible.

He couldn’t feel a thing.

Sango took in a short breath behind him, realizing what was going on. “Is she dead?”

“I can’t tell.” He quickly placed two fingers on the jugular of her neck. A few seconds later confirmed she was not dead, and Miroku let out a heavy sigh of relief. He was glad that at least one of Sango’s explanations about why his plan would fail was not true. The girl was not dead already. “She’s alive.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Sango’s relieved sigh followed his own as she placed a worried hand over her heart. “The last thing we need is to discover a dead body in the middle of the street.”

Miroku scooped the young girl into his arms, worrying over the fact that it didn’t take much to do so. She was too underweight to be healthy. “We need to get her to a hospital.”

“Okay.” Sango agreed, falling into step behind him again, a worried frown playing on her face. “Miroku, you have to realize now how ridiculous this scheme of yours is. It’s not going to work! The girl’s half-dead! You need to forget this crazy scheme so we can go back to the mansion and let Inuyasha figure out who he’ll marry on his own, whether it be a real relationship or not.”

Miroku ignored her as they made their way quickly down the sidewalk. Sango should know that he wasn’t going to drop his plan just because of a little setback. This mystery girl would get better, and she would agree to come live in the Kobun mansion, where she’d be fed as much food as she could eat and have a warm bed to sleep in. He’d make it happen, approval from Inuyasha or not.

“Miroku, listen to me, we can’t just-”

“We’re not going to just leave her in the hospital, Sango” He interrupted, walking as fast as he could towards the nearest hospital. The tall, white building with the emergency red-cross sign could be seen for blocks in the slums, and he headed towards it as if it were the mystery girls’ lifeline.

Which it probably was.

“I didn’t mean to just abandon her.” She bit back. “She obviously can’t afford medical care, we’ll have to use Mr. Kobun’s emergency credit card.”

Miroku smiled at Sango’s willingness to help out. She wasn’t cruel, after all, and although she apposed Miroku’s awesome plan with all her might, she wasn’t going to leave the girl to die. Sango was so great. He had to resist the urge to lean over and kiss her. He could do that later. Right now he needed to make sure Inuyasha’s way out stayed alive and well.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh?”

“Her name?”

He almost tripped again, having been caught off guard by the question. “Uh… I don’t know.” He answered, having finally made it to the block the hospital was located. “We didn’t really get the chance to ask her that night when she was laying unconscious on the pavement.”

“What, you left her there before?!” Sango’s voice was accusing as she held the door open to the emergency entrance. “Miroku!!!”

“Goodness, woman, I’ll give you details in a second.” He argued in an uncharacteristic tone as they raced inside the hospital and up to the counter. “This girl needs medical attention quickly.” He urged calmly to the nurse who was residing behind the desk.

“Fill this form out.” The nurse drawled, her eyes lazy, gum popping in her mouth.

Miroku had to bite his lip to keep from raising his voice. “I’m sorry miss, but you seem to misunderstand me. We found her in-“

“Listen, fella,” she interrupted, popping her gun again, “you need to fill out this form or we can’t-“

Sango smacked her hand down on the counter, the sharp noise making the receptionist jump in her seat. “No, you listen, lady!” Her voice had raised, almost shouting, and every head in the waiting room turned to the commotion. “This girl is dying! Get a freaking doctor down here before I turn you in to your superiors for refusing treatment to this girl while she’s on the brink of death!”

The receptionist stared back wide-eyed at the fuming girl standing in front of her, and slowly picked up the phone in front of her and dialed an extension. “Paging Dr.Hojou, paging Dr. Hojou, emergency patient up front, emergency patient up front.” Her voice rang throughout the hospital, and Sango threw Miroku a self-righteous smirk.

“That,” she stated, “is how to get things done.”

Miroku gave a nod of thanks to the secretary, who glared back a reply, and then turned to Sango. “With that attitude of yours, you’ll be coming everywhere with me. In fact, I might need you to talk to some bookies…”

Sango opened her mouth to retort, but a tall, boyishly handsome man in a white lab coat came rushing towards them, accompanied by two nurses and a stretcher. “Is this her?” He asked, looking over the pale girl Miroku was clutching in his arms.

“Yes.” He placed her down on the stretcher, and the Doctor motioned for the both of them to follow as they marched in a quick pace down various white halls.

“Her name?”

“We don’t know.” Sango interjected.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “You’re not family?”

Miroku shook his head. “We found her on the sidewalk, unconscious, so we rushed her over here.”

“So no known medical history…” He shook his head. “…No history of any sort, I need to know if she’s allergic to anything.”

“She doesn’t have pockets on her, no wallet or ID.” Miroku added, trying to be as helpful as possible. She was, after all, the main ingredient to his plan.

“This isn’t good. I can’t do much for her without medical history or insurance.”

Sango whipped out the credit card. “We’re covering the insurance part.”

Dr. Hojou’s eyebrows knitted together as they pushed through swinging double doors, entering another hallway. “Such generosity.” He replied, slightly weary. His eyes darted from Miroku and Sango to the young girl who looked dead, seeming to be arguing with himself. “Alright then, I’ll try and bring her to long enough to give me some information. Finish filling out the forms as best you can and hand them to Ursula up front.”

Nodding, Miroku grabbed onto Sango’s elbow and led her back towards the lobby as the Doctor turned into a room on the right, barking out directions. “She’s extremely undernourished, I need an IV drip ASAP. We need to wake her up, people, and we need to do it fast! Nurse, cut her sweater off, I need access to her chest!”

.o0o0o0o0o.

You go, Hojou! You rip her shirt open! Whoo~

~SugarRos

Pretty Kagome: Chapter 3: Tempted Offer Part 04

~SugarRos

.o0o0o0o0o.

Inuyasha hung up his cell phone and jammed it into his pocket, rushing down the long hallway that led from the kitchen to the front ballroom, then up to the front door and out to the large drive where his car was waiting for him.

He leaped inside and turned his engine, gunning out of the driveway and into the street at record ******** Miroku. What an idiot. Poor Sango sounded absolutely devastated.

Her voice drifted through his head again, her sobs stabbing at his heart.

“What.” Inuyasha had opened his cell phone and growled into it, annoyed that someone was bothering him during a peaceful lunch.

“In-*hic*-Inuyash-sha?”

Eh? “Sango? Is that you?”

“Oh Inuyasha!” She wailed into his ear, her voice wracked with sobs.

“Sango, what is it? What’s wrong?” It had to be something terrible. Sango didn’t call him for no reason, and she certainly never called him crying unless it was serious. “Calm down and tell me.”

“Inuyasha, it’s Miroku! He-”

“What, did he try anything out of line?” He growled. “I ******** swear to Gods, I’m gunna kill that guy! If he did anything to hurt you, I’ll-”

“No, Inuyasha, he was protecting me! He was protecting me and then they shot him and he wouldn’t stop bleeding!!” She sobbed. “And now the doctors are saying that he won’t wake up, something about blood transfusion, and I don’t know!! Oh, Inuyasha, I don’t know what to do!”

Inuyasha felt his heart stop.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

“Sango, where are you?” She gave him the address of the hospital. “I’m coming right now. Stay right there, don’t go anywhere, okay? I’m coming.”

“Inuyasha, wait, I-”

“I’m coming right now.” He hung up the phone, grabbed his keys, and was off like a shot.

Inuyasha growled at the old hag who was taking up all the road in front of him and honked his horn multiple times as he tried to swerve around her. It was proving to be difficult, as it was midday, and people were out and about.

His thoughts raced to Miroku. He’d just been out on a freaking date, a day he had asked to get off specifically so he could take Sango out. A bite to eat, some hand-holding, whatever, and then they were coming back.

…What in all seven of the hells had happened? Who the ******** had tried to attack Sango?

The scene of the prostitute he’d saved being attacked only a week ago flashed through his mind, and he wondered if maybe it was the same type of attack. Maybe they’d tried to get Sango and Miroku had stopped them? The thought made angry blood surge through his veins and he had to bite his lip to keep from losing it and changing forms. His new car was not the best place for him to go full demon.

Keh. ******** Miroku. Always having to play the hero.

He had to get to that hospital and force the damn doctors to fix Miroku up good. And if they couldn’t, he’d be transporting him somewhere that had capable doctors who could.

Inuyasha would never admit it to himself, much less Miroku, or anyone who ever lived for that matter, but he was attached. He considered Miroku to be his best friend, letch or not, and he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he was killed off by a mere bullet. Miroku was stronger than that. He had to be to have Inuyasha as a best friend.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever, but he reached his destination in less than twenty minuets, a record, and screeched to a halt outside in the emergency parking lot, yanking his car open and dashing into the air-conditioned waiting room.

The smells of the sick and the half-dead assaulted him, and he had to put his hand up to his nose to try and quell his intense senses. He hated hospitals. He didn’t like sick people, and he hated the smells of medicines and sterilization serum.

He couldn’t really locate Sango through the thick hospital smells, but after a few moments he saw her and rushed over to her hunched form. She was leaning over her knees on in the middle of a row of hard, plastic chairs. Poor girl. He could smell the slight tinge of tears that had been shed. She was probably still sobbing uncontrollably.

He reached out a tentative hand to give the only comfort he knew how, and was surprised to see her slump down across the chairs and mumble a little.

She was asleep?

…Wait a second… Warning bells went off inside his head. Something was off. Sango had been terrified. Sobbing. Panicked less than half an hour ago… And now she was sleeping, peacefully almost, with the slightest of smiles playing on her lips.

His eyes narrowed, and he grabbed onto her shoulders and shook her awake.

Her eyes popped open and grew wide when she realized it was him standing over her.

“Sango, where is he? Where’s Miroku?”

“Uhhh...” She let out smartly. Then she grimaced. “Inuyasha, don’t be mad at me, it wasn’t my fault, he-“

Before Inuyasha could even begin to comprehend what Sango was babbling about, Miroku walked up.

“Inuyasha, you’re here. I-“

He was abruptly cut off as Inuyasha’s clawed hands grabbed onto his shirt and lifted it, showing impeccably toned stomach muscles. “What the-?” Inuyasha muttered as he felt around Miroku’s stomach and chest area, searching for a bullet or stab wound. “Where is it? What the hell?” He looked up into his friends’ surprised face. “You’re fine!”

“I would be if you’d stop feeling me up.”

Inuyasha hands dropped to his sides, his brain not quite catching up yet. “You’re not hurt! You’re not bleeding or dying!”

“No, I’m not. What would make you think otherwise?”

His eyes widened, realization finally dawning, and pure bliss flooded his senses like nothing had ever done so before. His body shook, and he bit back the large sigh of relief.

Miroku was okay. He was okay. He was alive and well and not bleeding.

But that meant…

Inuyasha turned slowly to face Sango, who sat watching the whole thing wearily from her seat. A low growl erupted from his chest, and her eyes widened in panic.

“Wait, Inuyasha, it wasn’t- I mean, I didn’t- Miroku, tell him!!” She squeaked out, red in the face.

“Sango.” Inuyasha growled out, grinding his teeth together in anger. “Why the ******** would you lie to me about Miroku being on his death bed?!!”

“Inuyasha, I didn’t, it-“

“Keh! I almost had a ******** heart attack!!” He raised his hand up to swipe at her, and he could smell the spike of fear that jolted through her. “I thought Miroku was ******** dead!!!” It wasn’t so much that he was angry that she’d lied to him, although he was surprised that she had. He was angry that he’d acted like such a… woman… in front of complete strangers. His cheeks felt hot. They were probably bright red.

“I know!” She grit her teeth together and pointed. “And I’m sorry, but Miroku told me to get you down here, and you and I both know just asking wouldn’t do it!”

“If Miroku’s not dying, what the ******** am I in a hospital for?” He threw his arms up in the air to show just how frustrated he was.

“This way.” Miroku replied and grabbed onto Inuyasha’s wrist, leading him down the hallway.

“This had better be ******** good, Pervert. Cause I’ll be beating the s**t out of you if it isn’t.”

He dragged him to a large window that looked into a room, where a single bed was placed off to the right. Different machines were hooked up to a girl, monitoring her breathing and whatnot. He frowned at the girl lying in the bed. She was thin and pale, and he recognized her immediately.

“The whore we saved in the ally?”

Miroku shook his head. “She’s not a whore.”

“The girl does… that for money. She’s a whore.” He ground his teeth together in frustration. He could feel a migraine coming on.

“Things aren’t always what they seem, Inuyasha.”

Inuyasha turned on him in a flash, grabbing at the lapel of his shirt and pointing a sharp claw between his eyes. “Miroku, if you think for ******** that I’m going to have anything to do with… with whatever the ******** it is you’re scheming, I’m going to rip you to shreds.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, Inuyasha.”

“We’re in a hospital. I’m rich. They’ll revive you in a second.”

Miroku’s hands were up in the air, waving in a white-flag sort of way and tried his best to keep the light grin plastered on his face. “Hear me out for a second, would you?”

The Hanyou growled, but let go of his shirt and took a step back.

“Thank you.” Miroku stated, straightening his shirt. “Now, remember that conversation we had? About grabbing some girl to pretend to be your fiancé?”

“Is that what this is all about?”

“Well, yes, I thought that-“

“You thought ******** wrong!!” His hand slammed against the wall on his right, making a young nurse that was passing by jump. “I turned the idea down, remember?”

“Yes, but-“

“She’s a ******** prostitute!!”

“No, she’s-“

“No girl I touch is going to be a ******** whore.”

Miroku opened his mouth to state that he was sure Inuyasha’s ex-girlfriend had been with many other guys as they’d gone out, but wisely said something completely different. “Inuyasha, she’s a virgin.”

“And I sure as hell ain’t- …What?”

“She’s a virgin. She wasn’t whoring herself out. My guess is when we stumbled across her… predicament; it’d probably been her first job, gone horribly wrong.”

He could see the muscles in Inuyasha’s jaw twitching. “How do you know this?”

“The doctor confirmed it. She’s just dehydrated and malnourished. But once she gets better, which should be within the next couple of weeks… Well, she’ll look positively stunning.” He glanced over at Inuyasha, who stood stock still, but wasn’t interrupting, which was a good sign. “Once she wakes up, we can let her in on our little scam. There’s got to be something she needs, why else would she turn to prostitution? Plus, think, Inuyasha. …Do you really want to be forced into a marriage with Kikyou?”

Inuyasha forced down a frustrated scream that was fighting it’s way up his throat. The ******** pervert was right. He didn’t see a way out of it. It was a last-ditch effort, but it could possibly work. And Inuyasha did not want to be in a forced marriage, whether it be with Kikyou or someone not crazy.

Biting his lip, he looked through the window at the pale figure, then placed his hand on the doorknob. “Can she have visitors?”

Miroku shook his head. “Not till’ tomorrow ******** that. Give me a few seconds to think it over.” He shoved open the door, then slammed it behind him , locking it for good measure, and pulling the curtain over the window after giving Miroku one last angry stare, then turned to the bed.

He slowly made his way to the bedside and peered down at the girl, looking starched out in the stiff paper gown and intense hospital lights. Her hair contrasted horribly with her pale white skin.

He frowned.

She certainly didn’t look like much. But she was in the hospital. No one looked good in the hospital. His hand went out to touch her hair. Greasy. Not at all like he’d remembered it from the ally that night. Her lips weren’t painted that deep red color; they matched the rest of her skin, making her look unearthly.

He let out a sigh and clenched his fists. “********’ A, how does Miroku come up with this s**t?” He growled out, agitated that he was even seriously considering it.

“Sou…ta.”

Eh? He looked down at the girl, wondering if she’d awoken. Her brows were drawn, and her mouth turned down, but her eyes were closed. She was still out.

Out and dreaming.

“Souta…”

Who the hell was Souta? Her pimp? Inuyasha bit down on his tongue. That was probably it. Argh! Why was he putting himself through this! He should just run off into the woods and never come back, that would ruin the stupid marriage plains his father was concocting!

“…save you… Souta. I’ll save you.”

….Okay, well… Prostitutes didn’t normally save their pimps. Inuyasha frowned. “Who are you trying to save, wench?”

She rolled her head to the side and moaned.

He waited a few seconds before he asked again. “Who are you trying to save?”

“….Souta…” She moaned again. “…brother… No more beatings… Save you.”

It was like he had deflated. His anger was gone and only slight annoyance remained.

Holy s**t.

He was actually going to do it.

With a growl, he turned and yanked open the door, slamming it in his wake. He turned to see a slightly worried Miroku and gave him a curt nod. “Fine. Stay with her here. When she comes to, call me. Then offer her the job, got it?”

Miroku nodded vigorously.

“Good. I’m going home. I’ve got a migraine.” With that, he turned and stomped out of the hospital.

.o0o0o0o0o.

Aw. Inuyasha has at least a little bit of a heart! heart

~SugarRos