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The Bane of My Existance	By : ShaeyaSedjet Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > InuYasha/Kagome Views: 3559 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer:
The characters in this fic are owned by Rumiko Takahashi. They are
not mine. I claim no rights whatsoever.

A
Note From Sedjet: Hiya, kids! Yeah, I know. I should probably
finish the fics I am already working on before I start another, but I
didn’t:-) This is my first Inuyasha fic, and I am really
excited about it. I’ve always liked tough girls, so I wrote
Kagome as one tough babe. I hope everyone enjoys it!

The
Bane of My Existence

Chapter
One:

My
Bane

It
was the summer of my junior year of college, which meant that I would
be a senior in the coming fall semester. My brother, Miroku, had
graduated two years ahead of me and was in the middle of his masters
degree in theology and religious studies.

I
wasn’t what you would call “trendy” or “preppy”
like him. No, I was more of what you would call a “freak,”
“goth,” or “punker”. I hate labels. They're
so generic. How can you possibly encompass all of a person in a one
word identifier? People are so much more complex than that.

My
brother and I had always inhabited two entirely different social
circles, if you could call my total of three friends a “social
circle”. Miroku was sporty and was a part of the “in
crowd”. He played soccer, hung out at the beach with the
blonde, tanned bimbos and went to parties. I was into anime, punk
rock, black clothing, dyed hair, spikes, whips and chains. Unlike any
other girl I knew, I was into auto mechanics. In my junior year of
highschool, when all of the other girls were signing up for
cosmetology at vo-tech, I was in line with the greasers signed up for
auto mechanics. With the help of about four or five guys, I had
restored four cars in my two years at vo-tech. But as different as we
were (and still are), Miroku and I care very deeply for each other.
He would protect me at all costs and has done so on many occasions.

The
year that I turned fifteen, I met a boy. I thought he was it. You
know, “the one”? Oh, how wrong I was. Caleb Young was no
such man. He would turn out to be the lowest form of pond scum ever
spewed forth by the gods. A month or so after we started dating,
Caleb asked me to go steady with him. I accepted his offer, and we
began seeing each other exclusively. A month or so after that, Caleb
changed as so many males do in such a situation. He became
overbearing, jealous, forceful and abusive. If we were eating dinner
somewhere and I smiled at our waiter, he would accuse me of sleeping
with him. When we would go back to his apartment he would smack me
around to “teach me a lesson”. I didn’t want to
cause any waves or draw attention to myself, so I kept my mouth shut
like he told me to. He was careful to never left bruises or marks
where they would be seen by anyone but him.

Not
long after the real Caleb reared his ugly head, he began forcing sex
on me. I was young and inexperienced and didn't know what sex was
supposed to be like. I tried to tell him I was not ready, but he
didn't care. There was no foreplay to get me ready. No, he just
slammed himself into me over and over again. I bled for a while
after that. Sex became a nightmare for me. I began to do what we in
the psychology field call numbing out. When he would climb on top of
me, I would let my mind wander far, far away from what was happening.
It wasn't so bad that way.

Caleb
became frustrated that he couldn’t get me off, so he found
someone new. Mindy, I think her name was. He made sure to let me know
that fucking Mindy was a lot better than fucking a cold, dead fish
like me. Well, Mindy was welcome to him. At least he wasn’t
grunting and sweating like a pig on top of me in the backseat of his
Mustang. I was glad to be rid of him.

When
I finally worked up the nerve to tell someone about Caleb, it was
Miroku. He had showed no signs of anger, only support and comforting
words. He soothed me and stroked my hair and told me that I had done
nothing wrong, that none of it was my fault. He even offered to take
me to counseling sessions behind our parents’ backs. It was
the counseling sessions that sparked my interest in psychology, and I
have been hooked ever since.

A
few weeks after I had told Miroku about him, Caleb was found in a
local park not far from his house. He was badly beaten and in a coma
for some time. No one knew who had perpetrated the crime. I found out
some time later that Miroku and a group of his friends were the ones
who had beaten Caleb within an inch of his life. Luckily, Caleb had
pulled through with a severe case of memory loss from which he never
fully recovered. I was only slightly disappointed in my brother. He
had always been the one to preach the value of patience and kindness.
He was a pacifist for crissakes! But when he found out what Caleb had
done to me, something inside him snapped. He snapped for me. He loved
me that much. And for that, I valued his one and only show of
violence ever. Someone had had the desire to protect me. Ah, but I
digress. I was telling you about that summer.

The
summer before my senior year started out like any other. This summer,
however, I had a project to work on. I had my very own 1970 Carmen
Ghia to restore. The summer promised to be very gratifying. What I
didn’t know, however, was that summer I would fall in love with
a person I thought I could only have feelings of mild annoyance for.
I would never have suspected that he would worm his way into my heart
and proceed to turn my world upside down. He changed the very
definition of who I was. I thought I had everything figured out
before he came along. But he helped me find me again, and he
didn’t run away from my past. He embraced all of me…willingly.

~*~

I
was working on the Carmen in the workshop that my mother and
grandfather had built for my seventeenth birthday just before they
died in an auto accident with our younger brother. They had known of
my plans to get the Carmen and fix her up. I was so grateful for my
own place to work. The Vo-tech was stingy about their space and was
strict with time constraints. Honestly, the shop had surprised me. I
had always thought that my mother mourned the fact that I would
rather roll around in motor oil than dress in the latest fashions and
shop with my friends.

I
was cleaning a carburetor with a toothbrush when I heard a voice that
made me cringe. “Hey, Nubby! Where’s Miroku?”

Enter
Inuyasha Sato, the bane of my mortal existence. Inuyasha had been a
thorn in my side since I was a fetus. Our families were very close
and I was forced to suffer his presence on a regular basis. I put up
with all manner of torment from both Inuyasha and my brother until I
was able to drive myself around. I distinctly remember being eight
and being shoved into the dryer and having it turned on. Luckily,
mom came home just after they closed the door and turned it on.
Miroku had been grounded for a month and grandpa had beat his ass.
My older brother couldn't sit comfortably for days!

Once,
on a family vacation, we were playing hide and go seek in the rooms
while our parents were out. I was the only one skinny enough to fit
between the adjoining doors, so I had the bright idea that I would
hide there. It seemed like a good idea at the time! I had left the
door open a crack, so I could get out, but Miroku and Inuyasha
thought it would be funny to shut it and lock it. It was that moment
in my life that I realized I was claustrophobic, and I was stuck in
there for fifteen minutes before they would let me out. Do you know
what fifteen minutes shut in a space where your ass and nose are both
touching a solid surface is like for a claustrophobe? It feels like
fifteen years. I passed out. After that, Miroku and Inuyasha
were ridiculously sweet to me…for the rest of the day, at
least. I remember being held by Inuyasha as I was trembling and
gasping for air while Miroku had hauled ass to get a cold washcloth.
I remember the worry in his voice as he tried to soothe me back into
a state of calm . I'm sure he was terrified what his mother, Izayoi,
would do if she found out they had locked me between the adjoining
doors. Once again, I digress.

I
threw a busted carburetor at him without even looking up. It always
bugged the hell out of him when I simply ignored what he was doing
and went right along with the task at hand. He was lucky today,
though. He caught me in a bad mood.

“You
know, Nubs. If you behaved more like a lady, you might be able to
snag yourself a guy. You’re decent looking. ‘Course you
don’t have any tits, but there are a lot of guys out there who
like that Twiggy look.” I could hear the smirk in his
voice. Gods, how I hated that smirk! It was enough to make me
want to wipe it from his face with my sledgehammer.

I
glared up at him, hoping that I could kill him with my
go-to-hell-you-sorry-ass-son-of-a-retarded-monkey-slut look. Alas, it
did not work. He merely took that as an opportunity to toss another
jibe at me.

“You
shouldn’t make faces like that. It might stay that way, and
they you’d be totally fucked.”

I
got up, walked past him out of the workshop, up the path to the
house, up the stairs to the front door, opened the screen and yelled
as loud as I could, “Miro! Your tapeworm is here! Please come
rescue me from its presence!”

I
turned to face him with a smug expression, but Inuyasha was
appraising my working overalls. “Are you a lesbian?”

“Fuck
you, Sato.” I pushed past him, down the steps and back to my
workshop.

“Is
that an offer?” He called after me.

“In
your dreams! Why would I want to screw my brother’s gay lover?”

“Bitch!”

“Fag!”

By
this point, Miroku was standing at the screen door. He ambled down
the steps and towards his best friend and hetero lifemate. “Honestly,
bro. When are you going to admit you have a thing for my sister and
ask her out already? When the two of you are in the same room, the
sexual tension could be cut with a steak knife!”

“I
can hear you, Miro!” I shouted at him.

I
could hear my brother laughing as they headed for Inuyasha’s
1976 red Corvette Stingray. At least the boy had good taste in cars.

Author’s
Note: So, what do ya think? Angsty and chock full of sexual
tension much? I think so.
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The Bane of My Existance