InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Miroku's Lyric ❯ Session One ( Chapter 1 )

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Prologue- The First Verse

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"Well, Rin, it seems that you are a little late on your hepatitis B shot. Do you want the me to give it to you or the nurse?"

"I want Doctor Sango!"

"Alright then, let me go get the vaccination, and I'll be right back."

Sango exited the small room, walking down the hall. "Kagome, I need a Hepatitis B."

"Sure thing. By the way, Souta's coming in for his checkup next Tuesday."

"Okay, I'll make a mental note of that." The needle was passed over the counter and Sango walked back into the room, where Rin and her guardian, Sesshoumaru, were waiting. "Don't you hurt Rin," Sesshoumaru said.

"Mr. Takashi, we have been over this before, it won't hurt her," Sango said, preparing the needle, "Now Rin, tell me, how was your week?" She dabbed the alcohol dipped cotton ball on the little girl's arm.

"Great! Sesshoumaru-sama took me to the festival on Saturday, and we saw the wind dancer, Kagura!" Rin said, then whispered in the doctor's ear, "I think Sesshoumaru-sama likes her."

Sango chuckled, then said, "All done."

Meanwhile……….********************************* **********************

"One hotdog please."

"That'll be $2.50."

"Thank you sir."

He walked off, hotdog in hand; his hand-crafted guitar strapped onto him back, the only material possession besides the clothes on his back. The sharp icy wind blew through him like an open window, him closing his trench coat tightly over his body.

Winter would be coming soon, meaning he would have to go to that damned shelter. It was, depressing, to say the least, the staff treating everyone like six year olds, and made the children feel like the most unfortunate beings in the world. They would treat the men like they would all some lazy drug addicts and alcoholics, the people with children like they were the devil for allowing their children to live like this. Every sleeping in cots in one big room the size of a gymnasium, the whole building giving off a melancholy atmosphere. The food he found in the dumpster was more appetizing than what was in the kitchen. Then there were the volunteers who thought they were doing something good for those less fortunate, like they were actually good people. But you don't see those people welcoming the "less fortunate" into their homes………

Because they just felt sympathy, pity for them………

He hated those words.

Pity, compassion, commiseration, condolence, sympathy: the act or capacity for sharing the painful feelings of another. Implies tender or sometimes slightly contemptuous sorrow for one in misery or distress. It all meant the same thing………

They thought they were more fortunate………

More fortunate? Having to worry about making sure you having the rent on time, making sure you have just enough to feed yourself, is fortunate? Was it really fortunate to lose sight of what our purpose in this world really is? To live? Was it fortunate to be over obsessively attached to every little penny earned like it was a life force? They say you can't defeat the cost of living, but here he was, as alive as ever, even more than most of the money hungry animals also known as human beings.

He walked down the street, watching the people pass by, looking through the shops where people were buying various items, while he was lucky to get two meager meals a day and a small cold blanket to snuggle up to.

He sighed, and walked off, destination unknown, only where his feet could take him.

Meanwhile……….********************************* *******************

"HYAH!"

She punched the burgundy cylinder with all her might, sending it back a foot. The pendulum swung back and she countered it with several swift blows, synchronized with her fast paced heartbeat.

"Good job Sango, that's enough for today."

She took off her boxing gloves, throwing them against the wall. Her bangs clung to her forehead, the front of her gray t-shirt mussed with sweat. She slid down the band that held up her ponytail down until it was several inches away from the tips of her hair. She slipped on her sweat and leather coat and walked out of the gym, files in hand.

She walked down the dirty streets of Tokyo, the wind whipping her hair into her face. She moved one hand to brush it out of her face, but at the same time someone brushed against her, causing her patient's files to fall out of her hands.

"Shit!" she muttered under her breath as she scurried to gather them up. Just when she had gotten them all, two papers scurried off into the crowd and she hurried after them. In her hurry, she managed to bump into someone, sending her landing on her rear on the sidewalk.

"You dropped these," a soothing voice said. She looked up into the young man's kind looking eyes. She hesitated first, but slowly took them from his hand and into her folder.

"Thank you, I-"

But he was gone.

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