AN: This story is sort of a combination of ideas that I have had for some time now. A mixture of real life experiences, inspirations from manga, and just the need to write another "Tokyo" based story called out to me. I came up with this.
The title itself, in Japanese mythology, the person that you are destined to be with, is connected to you with a red string connected to your pinky. Kagome has two such strings, tied between the cold Sesshoumaru and the fiery Naraku.
Rating: pg13 (might be some mild swearing/sexual references/situation)
Summary: Two strings of destiny are intertwined about Kagome's heart. One girl, two childhood friends; misunderstandings, co-ed roommates, jealousy and romance run high in Tokyo. Sessh/Kag/Naraku
The Red String of Fate
Chapter 00: Introduction to a Tale
Sesshoumaru Okuda was a very smart man. Now, understand when he is referred to as a man this is purely for lack of a better word. He could not be considered a boy, because physically (as well as emotionally and mentally, no doubt) he was mature. Yet, he was of that age where being a 'man' and being a 'boy' is cast into varying shades of gray by society. To put it simply, he was a teenager. And, also, to add, he was nineteen and fresh out of high school entering a University in Tokyo.
Having come from one of the wealthier families in Japan, Sesshoumaru was used to figures bowing down at his feet or trying to use family's money in some way, shape, or form. Sesshoumaru Okuda was hardly as rich as some, but wealthier than many.
People who knew the boy often described him as arrogant, emotionless, and on occasion rude. Sesshoumaru admitted to the first two, but on the third he found some discrepancies. If being honest and straightforward was considered a bad thing in Japanese society, then he found himself guilty on those levels.
In addition, along with those first three characteristics, Sesshoumaru was also devilishly smart. He was in high school the type of person who did their homework every night, got full (and often times extra-credit) points, knew every answer; and wouldn't help a soul. He was a quiet individual who did not have many friends, if any, and preferred to spend his time actively engaged in his hobbies.
Along with having an avid interest in school (which he only maintained out of sheer boredom) he was also quite enthusiastic (or as enthusiastic as he could manage) about kendo (and most martial arts in general) archery (only the Japanese form) and Japanese feudal history.
Sesshoumaru also liked other things, although he would hardly admit to them. The first reason being that he was a man, and an emotionless one at that. And the second being that no one had ever asked him (which he didn't particularly mind, being the quiet, assertive, focused type who was not one for having lengthy conversations about coffee vs. tea, and which one had the most caffeine, or which one tasted better after something sweet, or…)
But of the things Sesshoumaru did like, they could be clearly and sufficiently listed off.
Unlike most boys his age, he liked sweet things. Although, there was a difference (and a great difference at that): he liked high-quality sweet things. He liked to have rich German Chocolate Cake made by a German, he liked deep dark chocolate from Austria, and he enjoyed light airy Italian cakes and large slices of succulent apple pie from Holland. But, above all things, he loved dark chocolate. He could not stand milk chocolate (too sweet) and white-chocolate (it didn't have a flavor) and so that only left the latter. Dark Chocolate.
Sesshoumaru also enjoyed classical music, in particular violin concertos, which he listened to avidly. In addition to Violin concertos, his favorite composer was Mendelssohn and (like so many others) Beethoven.
There are many things that Sesshoumaru liked, but these two (and soon to be three) are perhaps some of the most notable. His third interest (which tied into his love of Japanese Feudal History) was his admiration for historical locations in Japan, whether they were temples, castles or palaces. He enjoyed the old-world feel, the cherry-tree shoji screens, the nightingale floors, the large sprawling pine groves, and the mossy gardens. Not surprisingly, his favorite book was A Tale of Genji.
Sesshoumaru, for the most part of his life, had lived in Kyoto—the city famous for temples, and geishas, and the revival of lost arts. It was only for one very brief period of his life (perhaps a year or so) that Sesshoumaru had lived anywhere else but this hill-bound city. Yes, for a time when he was nine or ten, his family had moved into a house in the Yamanashi prefecture; surrounded by the mountains and lush valleys of orchards.
This part of his life, he believed, held no interest to him, but, as he would soon learn, the Okuda's left deeper impressions than first imagined, and probably not for the best. No, it wasn't that his father was rude or such a thing, or even that he was. Perhaps Sesshoumaru had the curse of being mature and emotionless beyond his years, and, essentially did not play well with others, especially if he liked them. Most people Sesshoumaru refused to like, and if it was a girl, even worse. He had, thankfully, grown out of that way of thinking some time ago, although he was still slow to "open up".
We now find Sesshoumaru Okuda reading the morning newspaper in his father's unused apartment in Tokyo close to the university campus. Currently, he is reading an article on making curry, but, within two minutes he will gulp down the rest of his coffee, grab his bag (located by the door) and make his way down the three flights of stairs, turn right at the corner, walk another four blocks, and arrive at the north gate of Tokyo U campus.
He will arrive at school at 8:57 am to buy his books. Today is his first day in Tokyo, although you couldn't tell, he already looks so adept and cold.
Kagome Higurashi was a smart girl. She graduated top of her high school class and successfully passed her college entrance exams to get into one of Japan's most prestigious school's: Tokyo U. For a girl who was born and bred in the country, the big city could seem rather daunting. Kagome did not know how she would react when she came to this new place, but as it is right now, she was sitting in the front of the blue car, idly flipping through a fashion magazine.
An article on autumn Tokyo fashions entitled "Fall into Fall a la Tokyo", caught her eye, and she began to read—half interested.
As a teenager, Kagome had been asked to model a few times—not that she had, of course. Kagome did not believe in modeling, but only for the reason that her mother didn't. And, unlike many girls today, she respected her mother as best she could and tried to please her.
The reason the modeling agencies had been interested in a country girl like her, was because of the strangely blue quality of her eyes. It had been discussed that Japanese people had black, brown and on occasion, gray eyes: but blue eyes, well, that was unheard of!
Still, Kagome, despite her beauty, and wonderful marks in school had other reasons to make her unique. Although not a tomboy, she was very active in sports, in particular archery and on occasion, kendo. But there were other things Kagome loved as well, sometimes so hidden that it was hard to believe their existence.
And, like many girls her age, she enjoyed sweets, particularly fruit-flavored ones (she loved white peaches, which was convenient, considering this was the principal crop the Yamanashi prefecture was known for).
Her brother's name was Souta, and was five years her junior (which meant that he was in his last grade of high school), her mother (who was a hard-working secretary at the Yamanashi Prefecture Offices) and her grandfather, who ran the shrine where they all lived.
The Higurashi Shrine was probably one of the most notable things about the Yamanashi prefecture, and visitors from all over Japan (as well as all over the world) would flock to see the untouched reminder of a forgotten age. The Prime Minister had once visited this shrine on his annual tour of the country. Kagome Higurashi had unfortunately not been there (her spring break did not fall until the week after), but the Prime Minister had enjoyed a lengthy conversation with the elderly shrine-keeper who explained the origin of why this shrine had come into existence, what materials used, and local folk legends. They had all been awarded autographs in the end.
But, getting back to Kagome. She was a pleasant girl as well, a hard worker, and always willing to please. However, if you got on her bad side then often times she would unleash a temper wilder than the harsh Hokkaido winds, and more tempestuous than the greatest of typhoons. To put it eloquently, Kagome had a temper that pulsated within her, only revealing itself under the gravest of circumstances.
Yet now, in the front of the car, she seemed nothing but an excited and frightened young schoolgirl, gazing out the window was the red arches of the Tokyo Tower swam by through a sea of gray buildings. Her famed blue eyes were wide in excitement, and she bit her lip apprehensively as the car exited the freeway and traveled down into the heart of Tokyo…
Naraku Honda was a smart man as well. And, when he is referred to as a man, he sincerely was a man—albeit slightly immature and vane, but, technically, in Japanese society, he was an adult. He was 21 years old. Naraku Honda had grown up in Tokyo nearly all his life (except for a moment of perhaps a year or so of country living), giving him a hardened edge to him that neither Sesshoumaru Okuda nor Kagome Higurashi had. But, this hardness and anxiety could hardly be witnessed except for in the darkest of situations.
If looks could be compared to Sesshoumaru Okuda, Naraku would be on a par with them (although lacking the silver-hair and startlingly golden eyes, which were a family trait to the Okuda's). However, the difference between the two was that Naraku cultivated his looks for his own purposes. He knew how to sweet-talk, how to butter-up, how to be charming: in other words, Naraku Honda was a ladies' man.
It had always been this way for Naraku—ever since he was a child. Girls had come running to him in support to save them from the playground bully (who in reality only picked on the girl because he liked her). Therefore, Naraku, throughout the years, had become quite adept at martial arts. Often times, especially returning home late and walking through dark alleys, self-defense was needed; especially in Tokyo.
Besides being devilishly good-looking, an athlete, as well as a ladies' man, Naraku (as mentioned) was quite smart as well. Having graduated third in his class at a private preparatory school, he was known throughout Tokyo as the kid who had 'thrown it all away' for modeling. And so, there you have it, Naraku Honda was a model—and a famous one at that. However, despite that (often times conceived of) setback, Naraku had been admitted into Tokyo U when he was twenty years old. He was now a sophomore in that system and the initial hype of his arrival had died down somewhat.
But still, the ladies flocked, and, Naraku succumbed to their wishes. He didn't care for any of them anyways, but he liked making people happy. If only temporarily.
If Naraku had one downfall, his would be caramel. He was easy to fall to its buttery richness and always had an ample stash in his satchel—and so, whenever he was feeling particularly angry, or particularly happy, he unwrapped a piece and popped it in his mouth and walked off, enjoying the creamy smoothness.
Naraku also enjoyed painting, something he had done since he was a youth. His favorite medium was watercolor, and in his spare time he could be seen painting anything from a cat sitting on a mat, to an empty beer-bottle, rolling amongst a Tokyo U courtyard.
He wasn't a mysterious figure though, don't misunderstand, he was quite popular, had many friends, many past and present lovers, many interests, many ambitions, and many qualities. But, if one word could be used to describe Naraku Honda, if only one word, then this word would be…
And so, what do these three people have in common? What is it that ties the red string of fate to these three? What do the gods and goddesses themselves have in store? Or, is it fate, and the gods—or the mere coincidence of a University in Tokyo, three smart people, and a common past that could create such a ruckus?
Well. That is what this story is about.
If ever there was a city to get lost in, Kagome decided, Tokyo was it. The young girl had only visited this sprawling metropolis a few times in her youth, but only in selected districts that her school had seen 'fit' to travel to; most importantly the surrounding area of the Tokyo Tower—a must-see for all high schools.
But going to Tokyo Tower for a school fieldtrip and actually coming to Tokyo to live, well, that was two different things. And although the tower was very pretty and had wonderful views…it was nothing compared to the reality. Yes, Kagome knew, in time she would eventually become accustomed to the busyness and bustle of this ocean of grey cement—but at this moment all she saw was crowds and desolation.
"It's," She began gulping, clutching her purse with her hands, "Very big."
Her mother, who had been leaning out the window to pay for parking permit, glanced over her shoulder and questioned chidingly, "Now, Kagome, don't tell me you are getting cold feet?"
Grinning ruefully, Kagome admitted, "Just a bit. But nothing I can't warm up to."
Mrs. Higurashi smiled as well, and chirped; "Now that's the spirit, Kagome. After all—what is Tokyo besides concrete and steel?"
Murderers, rapists, gigolos, prostitutes, drug dealers, Yakuza…
But Kagome kept those thoughts to herself and smiled brightly as she looked out the window at the spindly tree that was struggling to grow through the small hole in the side-walk.
The car moved forward, and the middle-aged woman at the driver's seat continued to rattle off all the facts that Kagome should and ought to have known about her new surroundings. She ought to have known these facts—but it has been a very busy early summer, and before she had known realized the time, it was that moment in which she embarked to Tokyo. It was now late summer—and even in Tokyo she could hear the dim buzz of the cicadas from small patches of greenery randomly scattered throughout the cities.
The University of Tokyo, Mrs. Higurashi explained, as she went over a speed bump, was having its summer session for the upper-classman who wished to get ahead on their degrees so that they could finish their Master's or Bachelor's degrees in a shorter number of years.
The blue-eyed girl nodded, but said nothing, her thoughts drifting nervously ahead to terrible premonitions about her first day of school. What if she fell, or spilled something, or arrived late?
"This isn't going to be like high school, you know," Mrs. Higurashi added, glancing at her daughter, and noticing that all the color had drained from her face.
The girl almost instantly brightened up. Yes, this wasn't like high school…! No small groups of giggly girls; no stuck up snobs, no lechers. Yes, it was a different world, Kagome convinced herself smartly, a sunny smile blossoming on her pretty cheeks.
How wrong those thoughts were…
Lugging large suitcases in each hand, Kagome laboriously made her way up the back stairs (as she has been instructed to by the resident advisor) to the second floor.
"Why isn't Souta helping?" Kagome called down to her mother who was picking up a box from the back of the car. Souta was in the back of the car as well, although not in the trunk, where Kagome thought the boy deserved to be. After all, it had been the boy's fault for staying up till three in the morning trying to beat the last level to the newest Final Fantasy game.
"Oh, let him be," her mother called, joining her on the stairwell and puffing large amounts of breath.
Biting her tongue, Kagome continued down the hall, only every now and then glancing out at the windows that surrounded them—it was a particularly fine day in Tokyo, from what she could see. Large billowing clouds were growing in the east, most likely over the mountains. The humidity was something awful though, and taking out a handkerchief from her pocket, she mopped her brow anxiously.
She suddenly became very glad that she hadn't brought her entire collection of books and folk-crafts to this new dorm room, not even a quarter of a mile away from the campus…
"What was the room number?"
"304," Mrs. Higurashi called in a strangled voice from the stair-well. It appeared that she had got her shoelace entangled in the railing.
Continuing to make her way down the hall, an earlier conversation that she and her mother had shared on the six-hour car-ride came fluttering back to her, like dappled sunlight…she didn't know if she really wanted to remember…
"Now, Kagome, there was something I forgot to mention to you about your housing arrangements."
"Oh?" She had asked dumbly, looking up from a cooking magazine and dog-earing the page on German Chocolate Cake.
"Well, you see…this year the University had a large number of students admitted."
"M-hm?" She had continued lazily, wondering how hard it would be to get chocolate imported from Germany or Austria.
"And, because of that…the housing will be a bit, oh, how do you put it—different."
It was only then that Kagome had begun to notice the nervousness in her mother's voice and the way she was gripping the steering wheel.
"What do you mean 'different'?" She was getting anxious now, and had closed the magazine and was staring at her mother who was biting her lip—a nervous habit.
"Well, because you are a freshman, and don't have that much standing as far as the University is concerned, there were two options that the students could choose."
"And those options were?" Her mother was definitely stalling now, and it wasn't sounding like things were getting any better.
"Well you could rent an apartment or live with relatives—that was one of the options."
"And the other option?"
"To live in a dorm—"
"Well," Kagome had concluded, breathing a sigh of relief, "I had expected that all along. Its part of college life, and seeing as how I don't have any relatives in Tokyo—"
"—with a great possibility that your roommate might be someone of the opposite sex."
There had been a long, deep, and heavy pause.
Her mom had pulled off the side of the road now, expecting the explosion which was about as eminent as the setting of the sun this evening…
"It isn't definite, or anything like that," Her mother continued hastily, turning off the car, and grabbing Kagome's hands frantically and patting them in a 'mother-like' way.
"Dear, don't raise your voice…Souta is sleeping."
"I don't care!" Kagome had begun, gasping for breath, tears pricking at her eyes, "Are you telling me that I might have to share a room w-with a b-boy!?
"Well, you see, I know how much going to Tokyo U has meant to you, and I didn't want to ruin it and—"
"B-But with a boy?!"
In the end, that was exactly what her mom had been trying to tell her, and it took a full forty-five minutes to calm her completely. This was done by the bribing of two Calpico's and a promise that all of Kagome's magazines would be forwarded to her new address and not be hoarded at the house back in Yamanashi.
So, now, here she was…very nervous, and hoping she had a girl for a room-mate, even if it was the ugliest, dirtiest girl ever—it would be better any day than having to share a room with a boy. After all, Kagome reasoned, this was Tokyo. She was sure guys were different here than in the country—probably used to getting "their way" with women…
She would have to buy some pepper-spray first thing.
Gulping, Kagome looked up at the silver-plated room number. 304. Her new home.
She slipped the key into the lock, and opened the door…
Naraku Honda was a person of patterns, much against his will, however. The only way he liked his patterns was in clothes, not in life. But, somehow, throughout the course of many years and of the choices he had made—his way was very predictable, and only in the small details could a difference really be seen.
Every day, he would wake up, at about eight in the morning and head off the classes by 9:30, after grabbing a quick bit of breakfast at a local store. Usually, he just bought some fruit, but sometimes he would treat himself to some sort of Danish…but he was model after all, and he had a very strict diet…but that was beside the point.
He would have classes until about one or two, depending on the day, and then also depending on the day, he would head off to a photography shoot, or some such thing.
Then, he would return home, attempt to do homework, dink around on the computer, stretch, feed his fish, feed himself, attempt more homework…
Goodness, his life seemed to bore him even when he thought about it.
The only time he truly enjoyed himself was at school, and this was, to begin with, because of the classes, and secondly for the social interaction. Naraku Honda would be the last person to admit that he wasn't popular—he was, he always had been. He had never truly desired to be popular, but somehow everywhere he went he always became so.
Maybe he should just stop buying his clothes from the fashion houses and walk around in sweatpants and not bathe for a few days…
But, still, nonetheless, having 'friends' (if he dared to call them that) and being well known on the prestigious campus suited him just fine.
Naraku Honda also had little games he played with himself, but we will get into that at a different time when it is called for.
In any case, it was a particularly lovely day in Tokyo at the moment, Naraku noted, grabbing his chain off the dresser and clasping it around his neck. With a flourish, he glanced in the mirror and grabbed his wallet. He had places to be, people to meet—after all, he may have been a man of patterns, but he was busy pattern…
Grabbing his keys, and padding around in his Italian imported slippers (actually, they were from Sicily, but he wasn't one to get technical) he crossed the tatami-covered floor, down the step into the entry way, and paused. There was a distinct rustling in the hallway, and the murmur of voices he didn't quite recognize. It wasn't as though he knew all of the floor's voices—or anything like that, but, still…oh, what the hell, maybe he did.
Shrugging his shoulders, Naraku Honda just presumed that it was some girl who had come to visit her boyfriend. This girl—hm, it was a girl…maybe he should see what she looked like. It was always nice to test the waters. What harm could it do? He wasn't planning on doing anything. Oh, alright, maybe he was.
His life was one of patterns, and every now and then the plaids, polka-dots, and stripes became boring. Maybe it was time for a nice feminine floral pattern—just for the time.
If only school hadn't been so taxing during this summer session.
Oh well, the moment was wasted, Naraku sighed grievously to himself. The girl must have found the apartment, because he couldn't hear the voice anymore. Grabbing a pair of leather boots, he zipped them up quickly while leaning against the wall for support. The strange noises erupting from his stomach informed him that he was hungry and he better get a move on before the afternoon and early evening crowds buzzed in from their salary-man jobs around the city.
Zipping the last boot up, he paused, and glanced towards the door. There was the sound of a key in the lock and the turning of the handle. His dark and heavily lashed eyes dashed to the un-opened letter lying on the entry table, labeled, "Important Information About Housing".
Oh…shit…he thought to himself, licking his lips as the door opened, revealing a large bolt of golden sunlight onto the floor.
A figure stood in the doorway…and past conversations whisked back to him over the past weeks. It probably would have been better if he actually paid attention to conversations…instead of other things…
"Did you hear? I might have to share my room with some freshman?"
"Hey, it's not that bad…what if you get some innocent girl from the country…?"
"Or some scary one from Shinjuku! God, my life will be over…"
"Hey, I don't care. If it's a girl, it could look like freaking Koizumi, and I wouldn't have a problem with that."
"Koizumi isn't bad looking, he has very nice hair!"
"And…he is HOW old?"
"Bah, either way, whether it is a girl or boy just screws everything up! I had so much space in that dorm…its heaven! And to think…I might have to give it up…"
"Oh, quit your blubbering. Com'on, lets get to class. Nothing's been decided YET."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"…You coming Naraku?"
Yes. It was NOW that Naraku realized he shouldn't have been reading his textbook. Yes, it was now, at this very moment, as the door opened, and a figure stepped in.
Gaping at the door, Naraku gulped very quickly. He recognized those blue eyes…
It took her a moment to recover to the light, and blinking a few times she found the sun-splashed room came slowly into to focus. The first thing she noticed was a black futon with green pillows splashed against it—then a very large bowl filled with goldfish swilling among a miniature castle…and then…
A man leaning against the front entrance, staring at her as he zipped up his expensive-looking leather boot.
"Uh, H-Hello." Kagome began, hoping that this was just a very very VERY masculine looking girl. I mean, how many guys had long curly luscious hair? And actually kept it so well maintained?
But, when the person opened their mouth to speak, Kagome's hopes were dashed against the wall like an egg, and they smeared to the ground. This was definitely a voice of a man—and a very nice voice at that. It was deep and sensual, the type of voice you would hear from some pretty boy (and the man was quite handsome…at that…) from an anime.
"Hello," he stated simply, finishing off the shoe, and standing up straight now, tucking his thumbs on his belt hooks and looking absolutely gorgeous there, clad in lengthy black slacks (his legs were so long!) and leather boots…and a nice purple shirt that looked as though it was made out of silk, and—
"Is there something I can help you with?" he continued on, smoothly, giving her a pitiful look, "And how did you get the key to my room?"
Kagome flushed. Great. Just great. This absolutely gorgeous man was her room-mate then? Oh…wonderful…now she would never get any studying done! But, slapping an insincere smile on her face, she rushed forward and shook his hand enthusiastically (hoping that this was more customary in Tokyo than it was in the countryside).
"Hello! My name is Higurashi Kagome," she began, continuing to smile, wondering when her mom would come in and save her. Maybe she could switch rooms…or something? "I guess I'm your new room-mate."
The man had seem surprised for a moment when she had said her name, but now he recovered, and raised an eyebrow. His lips turned up, and he replied quite richly, again, "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Higurashi. Was I mistaken in hearing other voices in the hall?"
"Oh, that was my mother, she is—,"
"Well, I will see if I can go help her with the boxes." The man continued on, brushing past her, and flashing a smile, "After all, when I first moved to into these blasted dorms I remember how much stuff I brought."
"B-But…" Kagome fumbled nervously, walking after him. But, she stopped at the threshold of the room, and sighed and whispered to herself hopefully, "With any luck he's gay…"
She was too upset to notice that the man cast a backwards glance at her and smirked…
Ten minutes later all her belongings had been brought to the second floor and were resting in a very neat looking pile in the middle of the dorm room. Kagome had been quite shocked at how strong the beautiful man and been, carting five boxes up the steep steps, down the long hall, and into his room—not even breaking a sweat.
Now that she looked at him closer, sipping a cup of water that he had offered her family (Souta had finally decided to wake up), she thought that he did look familiar. But, she supposed, maybe she had seen him in a magazine somewhere. It wouldn't surprise her. The man was so good looking, after all…
"So, you're a freshman?" The good-looking man commented, crossing his legs archly.
Her mother chose to answer for her, although rather nervously at that as she glanced around the apartment. There was no sign of pornography, or other instruments of pleasure, but then again, who would keep them lying about the place?
"Yes, actually. We grew up in the country, and so this is all very overwhelming. For both of us."
Kagome just sighed, bit her tongue and said nothing—although she was thinking, 'What the hell are you doing mom?! Let's go down to the resident advisor and DEMAND I get a roommate who is a girl!!'
"Oh? Really? The country?" the man replied, touching his lips, as though to laugh, "That is just precious."
Kagome blinked, and she noticed, so did her mother. Was it just her…or was this man acting distinctly…?
"Have you grown up in Tokyo, Mr—?" Her mother broached archly. And suddenly it did occur to Kagome that she hadn't a clue what this man's name was. He knew hers…but when they had first met in the doorway the man had never offered his own name. This seemed rather odd.
"Oh, please, do excuse me." The handsome one replied smoothly, sipping his water with one pinky extended, "My name is Honda…and, as I was just told, you must be the Higurashi's?"
Mrs. Higurashi smiled warmly, suddenly in a much better mood, for reason's Kagome couldn't quite understand why, "Why, yes, yes we are."
"How absolutely charming. When all those boys told me that I might have to be sharing a room with a freshman, I was devastated! I mean, what if a big, hairy, smelly man came and lived with me?," he began, getting up and scuttling over to the kettle to put on a cup of tea, although Kagome noticed dimly that it was quite hot enough already without adding boiling water down ones throats, "But now I see, Mrs. Higurashi, that there will be no such problem…me and your daughter will have so much fun! I know the cutest stores and bakeries—oh, they are just divine!"
Mrs. Higurashi was looking decidedly pleased.
"Oh? That sounds lovely!"
By the time evening had fallen, 'Honda' had practically carved out a place in the middle-aged woman's heart as though he was her own son. Even Souta liked him. Kagome was just…disturbed. Had he heard what she had said about him in the hall? When she had first met him, he didn't seem so flowery, but now he was practically dripping in lace and pink hearts. She felt nervous, but, it seemed, she was the only one.
She didn't want to leave her family on a fight, so she promptly kept her mouth shut, and kept eating cookies that 'Honda' got bought from a new 'Austrian bakery that sold the best things ever!'
Now, hugging her mom, she felt on the verge of tears. It was all happening so suddenly…! Her, moving to Tokyo, with a male roommate, nonetheless, and oh…just everything.
She was determined not to cry, and waving goodbye to her mother as she pulled out of the drive-way, she gave one last shuddering sigh before turning on her heals and walking up the flight of stairs to room number 304: her new home.
'Honda' was waiting for her to help 'unpack' and 'tidy house'.
Well, at least he is…gay…or at least very feminine, she thought darkly, finding herself rather cold even though it was late summer in Tokyo, I don't think he will do anything to me…except force me to take him shopping.
She had forgotten about that. Shopping. In Tokyo.
A grin emerged on her face. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad after all.
Naraku laughed to himself as he slipped out of his shirt, wondering how long Kagome would take to say goodbye to the Mrs. Higurashi. Would she be crying, he wondered? Did she remember him? Well, it had been a few years to say the least—and he had only known her for a short term of time after all.
He didn't want to let on though. Not quite yet. If she was still in the dark about it all—about how they used to be neighbors and good friends at that; well, he was just going to keep his mouth shut. He wanted to surprise her, after all.
Chuckling as he padded about the dorm room, moving his futon out of the way, and chucking some things in the closet, he thought, I deserved an Oscar for that performance I just pulled. Even I had myself convinced I was gay. Hmm, I wonder if it's not too late to audition for the autumn play…
Hearing the door slowly open, Naraku strode quickly towards the entrance, forgetting that he was shirtless. When the girl looked at him, he nearly exploded with laughter. He wasn't as blind as to ignore the fact that she was looking at him. Yes, her eyes traveled down the make of his body—probably against her will, he was sure. Still, how would she react once she found out that this was her beloved child-hood friend—Naraku Honda?
Not bothering with any greetings, he stepped down into the entry way just as she was closing the door behind her. In an instant she was beneath him, trapped between his two strong arms as he casually applied his weight to the wall.
"So, how was that?" he questioned archly, studying her eyes. They were quite extraordinary. He hadn't forgotten these colors, not even after all those years. Yes, in fact, Kagome had turned into quite the beauty.
I wonder if the agency is looking for another model, he mused gently, noticing that he cheeks were turning decidedly pink.
"W-What are you talking about!?" she gasped, trying to get away.
"No. No. No." Naraku chuckled, wagging his finger in front of her, "Not quite yet."
Noticing that she smelled like Lily of the Valley—a scent he remembered from his youth, he smirked even broader, blowing a puff of breath at a curly tendril.
"In any case," he continued on, taking her chin and moving her head slightly, "You have quite grown up. I'm very proud of you that you made it this far."
"What!?" She continued to sputter, wondering if he would ever let her go.
"But, goodness, I never thought I could act so gay. It was actually quite amusing." Naraku sighed absently, letting her go now and leaning against the wall as well. Eventually, he slowly fell down to the ground, his legs spread out in front of him as he gazed mercilessly up at Kagome who was glaring down at him in hatred and astonishment.
"You mean you aren't, you know…?" the wide-eyed freshman gasped.
Naraku chuckled, and replied primly, "No, not in the least."
"B-but why did you pretend to do that?" she looked nearly on the verge of tears now. Oh dear, he didn't think she would have taken it this hard…
"Oh, don't cry," he cooed, hoisting himself up and patting her on the back, "I just heard what you whispered. I'm not offended or anything—but I figured it would be better if I acted that way just to make your mother feel better." Pausing, as he made his way back to the electric tea-kettle, he questioned truthfully, "It did, didn't it?"
Kagome, looking rather shell shocked, said nothing. Although, Naraku knew he was right. If he had acted in his normal hormone driven way he would never have gotten the woman off his back. After all, he didn't just remember Kagome from his youth, he also remembered the ever-worried Mrs. Higurashi. And, in any case—dropping off her daughter in Tokyo living in a man's dorm room was one thing, but the blow was softened if he was "gay".
"I suppose," Kagome admitted with a deep and heavy sigh. But, a minute later her temper flared back with vengeance, "But what was that 'thing' at the door for?"
Finding a new clean cup, Naraku shrugged, "Oh. I just wanted to freak you out. You thought you got off free didn't you, my little sparrow?"
There was a long, deep pause, and then…
"No one has called me that since I was—,"
"—A kid?" Naraku quipped, facing her now, idly remembering that he really ought to put on a shirt, "Yes. I know. Don't you recognize me?"
Kagome remained silent, standing by the table, her cheeks still flushed, her eyes moving over his body—trying to remember.
"You do look…"
"Familiar? Yes. Well, we have all changed."
"Who are you?"
"Does the name Naraku Honda ring a bell?"
AN: Yakuza: the Japanese mafia.
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