AN: Okay, so I needed to type up something similar to a comedy relief. Just don't mind all the changes I made; it was required.
Disclaimer: I almost forgot about this…okay, I don't own Inuyasha…simple?
Type, type, type…stab, stab, stab.
You sometimes notice that when you try to type so fast, you unknowingly keep on stabbing your fingers on the side until you finally notice your bruised fingers, when you shut off your computer and look down at your red, blue, and purple pair of hands.
Well, I wasn't paying much attention to my poor tortured body parts that were enduring so much pain that was humanely possible, since I was trying to type up this report before sundown – which was fast approaching, mind you.
And it wasn't your normal sized paper that was due for those teachers expecting the impossible. Oh, no, it was one of those papers you had to type up that was badly demanded…and if it wasn't handed in-
-Well, let's just say me and my partner wouldn't be able to eat a single nibble of lettuce for a month. Not even that oh so juicy donut…
And speaking of my partner-
"Kagome!" A sudden cheery and a hint of tired voice conjured from the top of my laptop screen. So annoying…
I snapped my head up from the totally white screen and had to blink some numerous times. Hey; an hour just typing without blinking could make anyone's eyes sore, not to mention the freezing temperature of Canada, adding the fact that I was actually outside in the snow and not inside in my partner's traveling truck.
Yes, if you haven't guessed, I'm outside in the snow during one of those cold, horrible freezing temperatures in Toronto, and you know why? My dang partner says I need 'fresh air'. Who needs it?!
To think I had to live with this stupid suggestions every single bloody day. Death would be worse than hell.
Now here I am with this guy, freezing my bum off just sitting on the steel bumper of the traveling truck, dangling my feet trying hopelessly to warm them up, and I'm still sitting, typing with my bare fingers and watching doughnut sized circle of smoke puff out of my probably purple lips (that was still chattering uncontrollably).
Did I mention that I ridiculously resembled a penguin? What, with my puffy white jacket (Canadian made! God bless them…) and my incredibly tight black pants could have passed as a best way to look like the bird anything. Especially Halloween.
A perfect scene for him to laugh at.
"What?!" I snapped at him as I kept on trying to control my anger, and my fingers, from punching him smack in the face. It was good I had trained on my hand-eye coordination skills, as this was the perfect moment to test it out. Let's see if I could keep on typing with my numb fingers while I thought of ways to humiliate my dear partner.
It was that dead cold, let me tell you that during consciousness.
He kept on trying to get some air in from his hysterical laugh, which must have been painful since the sharp jab only let him bring in freezing moisture, but kept on failing to stop laughing and talk to me – like every other SANE idiot that's alive right now on planet earth.
After some more sharp intake of breath and teardrops from his normally dry eyes (which was perfect in forming icicles) now going hysteric, he leaned on his snowboard and took another sharp (and calmer) breath in, finally read to talk.
"Guess who won…" He smiled in his most cheerful (and seductive…) way and leaned even further onto his well polished blue and purple snowboard.
Everything he had was purple and blue (for some obvious reason that I'm not exactly in the mood to explain about).
I had no idea why he had to polish his snowboard like that, when he knew he was going to use it roughly and possibly dangerously. It was so bright that I was forced to narrow my eyes into slits, just at the mere sight of the sun-bright wooden board, making him more stand out as a god-like creature.
Do you know how much I hate guys like that? Yeah, well, I guess I shouldn't start babbling on about that right now.
I groaned in weariness, like anyone with my situation would've.
"Oh great; more work for the little old me!" I sarcastically replied, turning my voice into a totally exasperated pitch of an elf, you know, getting into the season?
He sighed. Just the reaction I expected from him.
"Well, it's not like I'm going to LOSE, just so my little sister can get a little less work." He said stubbornly and walked off, probably going off to find some girls to flirt.
But what bothered me the most was him, calling me, his 'little sister'.
…I was also wondering if there were any bandages left in the cabinet, and why in the devil I was chewing on my crunchy hair…
Get A Life!
Chapter One: Homesick?
First off; I had no voice in whether I ever wanted to ride in the traveling truck with my partner out of Canada. I mean seriously – I have no idea why I was even there in the truck for the first part. It was so annoying; exactly like I didn't have any choice in this at all.
Okay, so let me explain this better in details from the start.
It all started when my father died from lymph cancer when I was just, I don't know, five? It happened such a long time ago, I don't feel the need to brood anymore…
Anyway, my supposedly seven years old 'big brother', yeah, that's right, big brother, decided to stop listening to my grandfather and obeying him like a slave. Effectively stopping his training in becoming a priest, and deciding to show his true…colors…from his years of hiding the true animal inside of him.
That literally gave my grandfather a hysterical (yet awfully humorous) heart attack. He had to stay in the hospital for over a month. That's what he gets for persisting my mom into adopting Miroku, people.
Tha-at's right! My partner, no; I mean my big brother, is actually adopted! Can you ever have guessed?
Why, you ask, did my grandpa make my parents adopt Miroku?
This is how it goes;
My grandpa was incredibly into demons, wards, and spiritual stuff, as you have guessed, and that kind of explains why I was born and raised in an ancient Tokyo shrine.
My grandpa, been the maniac and the unforgettable crazy type of guy, he, the old man, decided to pass on his 'skills' to one of his grandchildren.
I was already born and been a lively little girl, in that special age when you especially act super girlish, so that saved me from the crazy persistence of being a priestess. He wasn't much up to teaching a little girl. Who'd bother teaching a girl who played with make-ups all day, anyway?
His next choice was my little brother, Souta, who was just born and obviously too young to even chew on the fake paper. Excuse me; I mean 'wards'.
So he literally 'made' my parents adopt a boy. Specifically a boy with purple eyes, being his favorite color, four years older than me, and the other assorted kind of package a priest needed. A boy with the perfect ways of being taught the dieing skills of the old.
Out comes Miroku!
He was like a slave to my grandfather the entire years of my father's life; all those coordination skills with his hands and body, and even learning how to memorize all the important facts about Buddha from the Sengoku Era until the modern ages…everything and more until, that is, my dad died.
Everything was falling into place.
My dad died, hospital funds, funeral funds, yelling, stress and Miroku decided to show his true colors instead of being a slave to an old man and a future priest of the shrine.
The first sign was when he started to spike his hair one by one, and seriously, I think he was really enjoying the skeptical and horrified look he got from all the visitors that came to honor the shrine, as he always 'accidentally' bumped into them.
My grandpa was extremely angry, but it was one of those rules that had forbid him to deny any, personal, hygiene his young 'grasshopper' decided to take up.
Nothing got better after that.
He started piercing his ears, and he would have pierced his tongue if it wasn't for the age restriction thing (thank lord), he actually bought a Harley motorcycle (a sleek black one, if you're interested), and then it got even wilder and more unstoppable from then on.
The only thing that's left in him showing any sign as a priest-making is his favorite color of blue and purple, from all those years he spent with my grandpa (and explains why every clothes he owns are mostly blue and purple), and all his knowledge of Buddha that'll sadly never be erased by any force possible. (Much to my brother's agony and my grandpa's delight).
I don't know if his perverted side was just a side effect from the heart-striking loss of my father, a scar of the priest-training, or just from his perverted family gene we have no idea about.
I, personally, think it's his mysterious family gene, but that's a story I'll never discover.
We hadn't really notice any of his other talents he shoved and hid deep inside himself for the last five years, you know; his mental mystery kind of thing…until he somehow got noticed by a recruiter.
Let me tell you in full detail.
It was one of those rare times when Miroku would actually share his time, willingly, and actually let me ride on his motorcycle. I guess it wasn't too bad riding on a Harley, but getting weird looks from other passengers on cars beside us was enough to get me red for a lifetime.
After some lifetime of blushing and doing crazy tricks on his motorcycle, I quote, Are you crazy?! Get me down from here!, and quote, we finally got to out destination.
The pizza parlor! Hey, I was hungry! You can't blame on my stomach!
Anyway, so we go into this parlor and get all these weird looks from everyone in there. Mostly the girls watching Miroku in way I'm not exactly comfortable of describing.
But the weirdest thing was, a guy was staring at me and Miroku. He had this huge brown coat on and most of his facial features was covered up by his huge sunglasses that was probably in style during the 80's, not to mention his very…err…different, yeah, different mustache.
Anyway, I try to ignore his disturbing stare and walk over to the usual seat I take and Miroku walks over to the usual pack of girls he flirts with and all goes well from there.
Until I finish my double cheese thick-crusted pizza, that is.
So there I was, taking my last bite and Miroku finally joining for lunch, only to find the empty tray, a very well-full me, and an open bill book just ready and waiting for him to stash some money into it, when wouldn't you know it? The same old creepy guy comes up to our table and offers to pay for the pizza.
Miroku's all happy and all and glares at me, but I get a little suspicious. Not that that would make him listen.
So they started talking and he suddenly takes his huge coat off, revealing his business suite and then pulls out his suite case out, and don't start asking where in the world he hid that because he did have his huge coat and all.
He pulls out some papers and I'm all confused, but Miroku seemed all confident about what he was doing, which made me even more worried, and signs all the papers in the suite case with the pen the guy gave him and after that, he just leaves with this triumphant smirk.
I was completely at a loss than, let me tell you that.
So thankfully Miroku forgets about his lunch and quickly pulls me, who was asking what the hell was going on with no response, with him towards his motorcycle.
I keep asking, but he just shushes me up and drives me back home without any more response at all.
That's how it's been for a whole month, him leaving and coming back home randomly and not saying anything about it to me or my family.
Until he finally takes his guts and tells about his accomplishment to my entire family one night.
Turns out, that weirdo and creep, was a recruiter (a big shocker there), and was looking for a new…recruit.
My family didn't really show any reaction than, but in my eyes, I could see their mind showing red alarms and sirens going off, as if Santa forgot to read his list for Christmas and elves were going crazy in their mind.
They were right to panic.
Now, here I am, in a traveling truck…with my brother.
I have no idea how the hell I got stuck baby-sitting Miroku, but somehow Kami just had to play some sick joke on me and make me become Miroku's, I don't know, some kind of manager?
I shut my laptop off and look up at Miroku, who was in the driver's seat and too busy trying to pass some slow-moving cars, who in truth, were driving perfectly in normal speed.
Maybe I should have driven instead.
I put the laptop on the table top and take off my scarf, just noticing the sweat from the heavy jacket I was still wearing. Some times, I was so busy typing that I guess I just forget what I'm doing.
It's life, people! I do what I do.
Sighing, I slump myself back on the wall couch of the truck and watch as the trees kept on passing through the hazy window. I was too exhausted to press my hand against the smoky window and rub a small circle to see the outside better so I just watched the vague shaped of the trees…or cars, I couldn't tell.
Ever since Miroku became one of the best athletes in the world, we had to travel around every country known to man for showing off his mad skills and doing popular demands, like just this mourning, he had to ski for five straight hours through the wild and racing against five different competitors.
The funny thing was, it started out with thirty competitors.
"Oi, Miroku!" I shouted over the honks from the many angry drivers he passed just barely missing them and had too much near collides for comfort. Okay, so he maybe a nice guy, but he was still a crazy (and a maniac) driver.
"Yeah?!" He shouted back, obviously annoyed at the drivers in front of him, who were going slower than him in comparison.
"Where're we going again?!" I shouted back, my throats getting a little raspy from the yelling from the honks and the loud engine.
Another loud honk came from the next lane and completely droned out what Miroku said in response, making him look like he was just moving his mouth and only mouthing the words.
"WHAT?!" I yelled back and coughed again.
"I SAID HAWAII!!!" Miroku yelled back and I swear I saw a huge vein mark on his forehead.
I stayed completely silent after that.
Three years we stayed in Canada, and this may sound dorky, but this was like a second home to me after Japan. I mean, I still miss my family and my brother too, since he's probably ten now and I haven't seen him for five years. The only pictures I have of him are postcards from mama. Sad, right?
But since we travel a lot, staying one day in the same place is already a long time for me, so it's all the same. So I guess staying somewhere different this year in Christmas would be a good experience, since Christmas is due in a week…
Maybe I should get started on the next paper I was suppose to type up, thanks to his new victory this morning.
I sighed again.
Obviously, did he have to win all the time?!
…wait, did he say…
AN: Kagome; a girl with sarcasm and years of regret behind her. Of course she's really pissed off at the world!
This will be in Kagome's point of view the whole time, and it will mostly be an Inuyasha/Kagome fic. Though it could unexpectedly change anytime.
And remember to review!