Dear Diary
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InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › InuYasha/Kagome
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
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Reviews:
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Currently Reading:
1
Category:
InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › InuYasha/Kagome
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
17,278
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
Entry 8: The PMS Sisterhood
© Salome Wilde, 2008
Author’s Note: Originally written for the LJ community “iy_wiltedrose”, a Kikyo-centered contest fic space, for it’s “Acceptable” theme.
Dear Diary,
Holy Houshi! I was so PMS today that even Shippo cowered in fear when I shot him a killer look as he tried to snag the emergency chocolate bars from my backpack. No way, foxboy. Inuyasha, who can smell my bad mood coming a mile away, spent the afternoon just lying down to protect himself from Osuwari bruising. And if Miroku was smirking, he made sure I didn’t see it. Of course, Sango and I are on synched schedules at this point, so she was only slightly less foul than I was, but the chocolate I shared with her and only her and the knowledge that I brought plenty of tampons for the week ahead made things a bit easier.
Eventually, we’d had enough of the boys and their problems with our “attitude”—and Kirara kept sticking her nose in our crotches. (I thought that was a dog thing but Naraku does it constantly and now Kirara too? Just a big whatever to all these weird demons and why they do what they do anyhow.) So, Sango and I (the “PMS Sisterhood”) went off to bathe the bitchiness away, not to mention a little mutual fondling—though she’s lazy and I usually do most of the work. And we found ourselves talking about Kikyou.
As I washed Sango’s hair for her (she is so bad about keeping it properly conditioned—the girl just hates using product), we couldn’t help but comment that the DBC—which stands for “Dead Bitch Chick”—or “Dirt Bone C*nt,” when we’re feeling hateful—is so lucky not to get her period now that she’s made of mud and rocks and stuff and not really alive. “It’s so not fair,” I said. “Totally,” said Sango, who is using that word way too much since I taught it to her. “Let’s go TP her hut,” I said, holding forth the three roles of premium toilet tissue I snagged from the closet when I went home the day before for the tampons and chocolate. I really need it for using in the stupid Feudal Era because the stuff they use is like sandpaper—when they use anything at all. So gross! But I figured it’d be more fun to annoy Kikyou when I was in this kind of mood than even to wipe my butt in comfort. So, anyhow Diary, we went to do the deed.
Kikyou has been living in this dull backwater village for a while now, doing her typical sullen miko-healer thing. How the little girls do not find her creepy, I have no idea. But it was dark when we got there, and there was no one outside and no lights coming from the huts…except for one: the cookfire in Kikyou’s place. Sango almost got cold feet, afraid the DBC would bust us. But who cares! What’s she going to do, steal my soul? Ha!
We approached, quietly, me yanking Sango along behind the whole way. As we got close, we heard…noises. Sango stopped and put her hands out to say she was not going a step further. “Puh-lease!,” I mouthed. It was so totally obvious what was going on: Kikyou was getting some. So I left Sango and crept closer to the doorway and peeked around the hanging mat. And there before me was the 69 to end all 69s: Kikyou and Kagura, going at it like there was no tomorrow.
But suddenly, Kikyou popped her wet face up and her dead eyes met mine. She smiled a totally scary little smile as her flat voice hissed, “You TP my hut again and you are dead, soulbait.” And then she went right back to the action.
I ducked my head out and put my hands over my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud. Sango approached, whispering, “What? What??” and I told her what she’d missed. We did our secret handshake and high-fived and agreed in an instant: Dead or not, menstrual or not, that girl was totally acceptable as a member of the PMS Sisterhood. Next time we met, she was going to be taught the handshake for sure.
Dewa kore de!
Kagome
Author’s Note: Originally written for the LJ community “iy_wiltedrose”, a Kikyo-centered contest fic space, for it’s “Acceptable” theme.
Dear Diary,
Holy Houshi! I was so PMS today that even Shippo cowered in fear when I shot him a killer look as he tried to snag the emergency chocolate bars from my backpack. No way, foxboy. Inuyasha, who can smell my bad mood coming a mile away, spent the afternoon just lying down to protect himself from Osuwari bruising. And if Miroku was smirking, he made sure I didn’t see it. Of course, Sango and I are on synched schedules at this point, so she was only slightly less foul than I was, but the chocolate I shared with her and only her and the knowledge that I brought plenty of tampons for the week ahead made things a bit easier.
Eventually, we’d had enough of the boys and their problems with our “attitude”—and Kirara kept sticking her nose in our crotches. (I thought that was a dog thing but Naraku does it constantly and now Kirara too? Just a big whatever to all these weird demons and why they do what they do anyhow.) So, Sango and I (the “PMS Sisterhood”) went off to bathe the bitchiness away, not to mention a little mutual fondling—though she’s lazy and I usually do most of the work. And we found ourselves talking about Kikyou.
As I washed Sango’s hair for her (she is so bad about keeping it properly conditioned—the girl just hates using product), we couldn’t help but comment that the DBC—which stands for “Dead Bitch Chick”—or “Dirt Bone C*nt,” when we’re feeling hateful—is so lucky not to get her period now that she’s made of mud and rocks and stuff and not really alive. “It’s so not fair,” I said. “Totally,” said Sango, who is using that word way too much since I taught it to her. “Let’s go TP her hut,” I said, holding forth the three roles of premium toilet tissue I snagged from the closet when I went home the day before for the tampons and chocolate. I really need it for using in the stupid Feudal Era because the stuff they use is like sandpaper—when they use anything at all. So gross! But I figured it’d be more fun to annoy Kikyou when I was in this kind of mood than even to wipe my butt in comfort. So, anyhow Diary, we went to do the deed.
Kikyou has been living in this dull backwater village for a while now, doing her typical sullen miko-healer thing. How the little girls do not find her creepy, I have no idea. But it was dark when we got there, and there was no one outside and no lights coming from the huts…except for one: the cookfire in Kikyou’s place. Sango almost got cold feet, afraid the DBC would bust us. But who cares! What’s she going to do, steal my soul? Ha!
We approached, quietly, me yanking Sango along behind the whole way. As we got close, we heard…noises. Sango stopped and put her hands out to say she was not going a step further. “Puh-lease!,” I mouthed. It was so totally obvious what was going on: Kikyou was getting some. So I left Sango and crept closer to the doorway and peeked around the hanging mat. And there before me was the 69 to end all 69s: Kikyou and Kagura, going at it like there was no tomorrow.
But suddenly, Kikyou popped her wet face up and her dead eyes met mine. She smiled a totally scary little smile as her flat voice hissed, “You TP my hut again and you are dead, soulbait.” And then she went right back to the action.
I ducked my head out and put my hands over my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud. Sango approached, whispering, “What? What??” and I told her what she’d missed. We did our secret handshake and high-fived and agreed in an instant: Dead or not, menstrual or not, that girl was totally acceptable as a member of the PMS Sisterhood. Next time we met, she was going to be taught the handshake for sure.
Dewa kore de!
Kagome