Migikata no Chou (Butterfly on Your Shoulder)
-By ForgottenHero-Rinku
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Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha and am making no profit, what-so-ever, from this fanfiction. Any InuYasha related items are respectfully owned by Rumiko Takahashi and her producers.
WARNING: Sexual Situations [Lemons, limes etc...], Violence/Gore and strong Language.
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My Corner:
Hey everyone! It has been a very long, long, LONG time since I've been on Dokuga. I've moved towns, have a new job, new relationship so sorry I've been super busy for the last few months. I'm trying to update all my current fanfictions and just finally squeezed out this idea I've been raving about in chat for the last year. So please do enjoy this story - I think it's a rather fresh take in this fandom!
If you want to see my personal fanart/sketches for this fanfic, here are some so you can picture the story better in your head:
http://www.dokuga.com/gallery?func=detail&id=8550 - early Kagome design (it has changed a bit)
http://www.dokuga.com/gallery?func=detail&id=8789 - Cover art featuring Kagome, Sesshoumaru and Shippou (another vocaloid)
http://www.dokuga.com/gallery?func=detail&id=8849 - Kagome and Shippou vocaloid (this is her current design and its staying like this)
Don't forget to Read, Rate, & Review!
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Chapter One: A Mistake of Fate
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"It would be a lucrative contract, Yoshida-sama, if you should decide to take our offer. We have been recommended by countless business associates to come to you for this project."
Tap tap tap.
Four figures sat in a massive office. It was furnished in a modern design with priceless art pieces on the walls and contemporary furniture. A massive black desk sat in the midst of it all and an imposing figure sat behind it. Lounging in a plush executive chair behind the desk was the owner of the sky rise building, his tall frame elegantly sitting in the seat. Yoshida Sesshoumaru's gold eyes languidly regarded the two human business men who sat across from him. Both were young and fairly handsome - obviously go getters in the business world and rambunctious.
Sesshoumaru continued to sit there silently, pokerfaced, observing the sweating humans who anxiously watched him behind their glasses. He tapped the ends of his long talons together as he listened to their proposal. Standing behind him was his assistant, Funahashi Miroku. He stood there quietly behind the CEO of Yoshida Enterprise, his clipboard held in front of him with the contract proposal that had been faxed to their office that morning for this meeting. His violet eyes slid to his boss. He could only see the back of his platinum head but could hear the very ominous sound of those long, three inch long claws as hard as diamonds clicking against one another.
The assistant mentally sighed when he saw one of the visiting men begin to pat his sweat dotted forehead with a handkerchief nervously, his be-speckled eyes warily watching his demonic employer. Miroku found the poor man's fear practical. Sesshoumaru was a very imposing figure and it was understandable the two guys across from the infamous daiyoukai were sweating bullets and looked ready to jump out of the building despite it being over forty stories high. Sesshoumaru was a demon Lord and owned most of Japan. He had started a technology company twenty some odd years ago and it had quickly flourished. It specialized in software creation and data management. Currently they had a few important contracts on the go.
They had been given a contract worth twenty million yen by Tokyo University to create androids for practicing medical students under the idea they could operate on the robots before trying on live patients. The androids were called New-Us and made to look completely human and have functioning robotic parts and organs. They were considered leaps in science and had been designed by Sesshoumaru himself. Their tech department had just finished the first prototype that now sat down the hall locked up. The tech crew said there were still a few bugs with the New-U android. Sesshoumaru was supposed to go check that out in half an hour according to Miroku's planner that had the inu youkai's schedule.
The assistant continued to stare at the business men curiously. The two humans across from him were from the up and coming voice software business, VocaWare, which was becoming quite popular in Japan and out of it. They called the software they had created a 'vocaloid' - a synthesized voice created that produced pitches and notes to sound human. It was programmed to sing songs that the company wrote. The vocaloid voice was strangely hypnotic and the catchy beats that were made for the songs added to its allure.
The vocaloid songs had quickly become a huge hit in Tokyo which had spread further and further until most of Japan had joined in on the vocaloid craze. Yet now the fans demanded to see the face of the girl singer that they were listening to. So that was where Yoshida Enterprise came in. VocaWare had come to them to create the image of their vocaloid. They needed an icon for the computer singer and were now practically begging Sesshoumaru to be the creator of their software's avatar. Miroku frowned slightly.
He didn't know where they would find the room to start this big of a project. They would have to have artists to draw the character design of the vocaloid and then 3D artists create her on their new model software they were still fiddling with. And then they would have to upload her and add her characteristics and begin to market her for VocaWare. It was a very big contract to take on. He glanced at the back of his employer's head. He knew Sesshoumaru was going to accept the deal though. The daiyoukai didn't turn away deals this big.
Miroku mentally sighed. The employees and tech crew were going to want to hamstring him when he delivered the news they were taking this project on when they were still trying to fiddle with that darn New-U contract. The tapping sound suddenly stopped. Miroku blinked rapidly and came to attention. The humans visibly tensed and looked at the demon Lord anxiously. Sesshoumaru sat there quietly, his flawless face empty yet his gold eyes sharply reviewing the VocaWare representatives. His logical mind was picking the entire situation apart. The contract was a hefty one and quite demanding. He knew it would be a tight fit for his employees but that didn't matter. They were paid to work and a contract of this magnitude could not be denied.
If they completed the contract, it would add to Yoshida Enterprise's credentials and would place it on the market for younger, trendier businesses. The VocaWare's target market was the average teenager which it had officially managed to brainwash the majority of them it seemed. Almost every teenager on the street had one of their songs on their iPod or mp3 player. They even had made a few of the songs into ring tones that were hugely popular. Sesshoumaru eyes narrowed on the slightly calmer representative. He didn't look quite as ready to faint as the other one. He didn't remember his name but that didn't matter to him. His gold eyes settling on the human male, he lifted his head slightly, his pale face stony.
"I accept your proposal." He stated, his deep voice not loud but demanding their attention effortlessly.
The two men gaped. Their eyes rounding to the point they looked like they had just witnessed a miracle, they then stood up in unison and bowed so low Miroku was surprised they didn't break in half. In fact, the guy on the left looked like the top of his head was skimming the floor.
"Arigatou, Sesshoumaru-sama! We sincerely appreciate your business and this opportunity to work with you." The man on the right stuttered as the second continued to practically prostrate himself at the dog demon.
Sesshoumaru simply watched them impassively from his chair. Miroku stepped forward and gave the two stammering, jubilant men a polite smile.
"Thank you for trusting us with this project. Our office will be in touch with yours shortly to fine tune the details of the contract and set up the payment method." He said as he began to usher the beaming pair to the door.
The three of them stood there as the men then continued to loudly, excitedly thank Sesshoumaru as Miroku practically pushed them out before they annoyed the dog demon. The monk sighed as he closed the door behind the dancing fools who basically skipped down the hall to reception. Clearing his throat, he fixed his tie and turned on his heel and walked to his boss’ desk. Sesshoumaru stared out the window dispassionately; his angelic face deadpan, his gold eyes emotionlessly regarded the scenic view of Tokyo his large office was privy too. Miroku settled himself in one of the chairs opposite to the dog demon. He ran a hand through his thick jet-black hair.
“That is a very big contract, Sesshoumaru-sama.” He commented nonchalantly.
Sesshoumaru’s eyelids dropped over his sharp gaze and he softly exhaled.
“I did not hire you to listen to your commentary about my business decisions, Funahashi.” The daiyoukai retorted coldly.
Miroku smiled a bit. Leaning back in the chair, one leg crossing over the other, he looked at his boss unafraid. He was one of the very few who felt comfortable around the formidable demon. He was a modern-day houshi which might have been a factor as too why he wasn’t entirely scared shitless of Sesshoumaru. Demons were a known fact in modern-day Japan. They were citizens and out in the open. Humans and demons existed side by side though not entirely by choice. Both their populations had become too large to ignore each other and had come to the reluctant agreement to share their land and its resources with one another just a few centuries ago.
Sesshoumaru was a daiyoukai; one of the four demon Lords that ruled Japan other than the human leader, the Emperor and his court. He owned the West of Japan yet his power seemed to echo through all the other lands. He was infamous for his lack of patience, his unnatural strength and cruelty. Miroku had witnessed the inu youkai’s lack of empathy a few times which had made him a bit wary of the dog demon. The daiyoukai was one in a million – his strength was unsurpassed for the last four centuries. He could still not understand how Sesshoumaru had managed to obtain such a level of demonic power.
The houshi’s lips pursed thoughtfully. That was another thing. Sesshoumaru was extremely mysterious. He was an introverted creature. He showed barely any emotion and if something happened to arouse a reaction from the demon Lord, it did not bode well for whatever happened to have done so. Miroku had never seen his boss of five years smile or heard him laugh. He had been subjected a few times to the demon Lord’s icy glare which had caused him to have a few minor heart attacks. Even though he was Sesshoumaru’s personal assistant and the first one to have survived past the first month working for him, he still did not know his boss to a personal degree at all.
He knew how the dog demon liked things at least. Sesshoumaru was meticulous and business savvy. The daiyoukai was extremely smart, a true genius, and seemed to have an intuition about things. He wasn’t sure if it was something that came with being alive for more than five centuries or a demon sense thing but either way, the dog was extremely perceptive and nothing went by him. Miroku had tried a few times to pick up female co-workers rather covertly but the daiyoukai seemed to always find out and more than once the monk had found a sword pointed towards his groin in a non-verbal warning from his boss to knock it off.
Sitting there observing his infamous boss who continued to stare out the window detachedly, Miroku mentally sighed. Though the demon was terrifying, cruel and a few other undesirable things, Miroku couldn’t help but admire his strength, intelligence and cunning. The daiyoukai was an imposing figure that demanded respect and awe. He was inspiring with his power and logic. Miroku could even admit, no homo of course, that Sesshoumaru was ridiculously attractive. Sesshoumaru looked like something that should have been painted on the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling.
His pale face was pointed and pale and had a type of androgynous beauty that men and women alike couldn’t help but admire. He had long white hair with natural silver highlights that hung like a silky curtain to the back of his thighs. His long, slanted eyes were a piercing, bright gold with thick lashes and natural red markings on their lids. He was over six feet tall and built like a finely tapered sword; lean and elegant. With his broad shoulders, lithe but muscled frame and towering height, he was a magnet for women. All their female coworkers lusted after him and Miroku still had not seen one day where they left the office that the dog demon wasn’t eye raped by every woman on the side walk.
But Sesshoumaru never seemed interested. He ignored women and people in general. Miroku had at one time been afraid that the daiyoukai was gay but now he had come to the conclusion that the inu youkai was asexual. He probably didn’t have any carnal desires. He was just a beautiful shell filled with power. The assistant pursed lips as he shrewdly eyed his employer. Sesshoumaru probably wouldn’t lower himself to feel a primal, animalistic thing such as ‘lust’. Besides, he only ever saw Sesshoumaru at work – he never really saw him out of the building to be honest. The monk had never had one of those awkward run-ins in public like some people had with their employers.
He was beginning to think Sesshoumaru managed to design the androids because he was secretly one himself. Miroku withdrew from his thoughts when he saw his boss then turn his head from the window and those gold eyes caught his like a magnet with two pins. As usual, the demon’s angelic face stoic. He watched Sesshoumaru lean back slightly in his chair, his neck craning up as he regarded him stolidly from down his elegant nose.
“You will be in charge of this project, Funahashi.” Sesshoumaru stated his rich, timbre voice monotone.
Miroku stiffened. His mouth falling open, he stammered back, “Wh-wh-what?!”
Sesshoumaru arched a slender brow at him mockingly. “Is your human hearing that poor, houshi?” He demanded dryly.
Miroku flushed. His hands gripping on his planner, he glowered at his boss, his violet eyes spitting daggers at the arrogant dog demon.
“Sesshoumaru-sama I can’t possibly handle this project as I work on the New-U contract as well. I still have to handle the marketing campaign and contact the financing department for Tokyo U and-“
The daiyoukai entwined his long claws together and regarded him flatly, effectively stalling his assistant’s explanation with a simple cold stare. He leaned back in his executive chair, his pale face blank like a piece of fresh paper.
“You will do this project, Funahashi.” The demon Lord reiterated, his tone leaving no room for argument despite the placidity he spoke with.
Miroku flinched. His left eye twitching, he stood up rigidly and bowed at the demon Lord. All the while in his head he was damning the bastard. He should have known Sesshoumaru was going to do this. Of course he wanted to torture Miroku. After the inu youkai had caught him trying to pick up the new receptionist on the ground level last week, he had thought it was very odd he hadn’t had a sword pressed against his crotch as the demon glared at him lethally. He had gone five days with out his usual warning. Obviously, the jerk had been planning on retribution by working him to death. The monk turned on his heel angrily.
Sesshoumaru watched his assistant stiffly walk to the other side of his office and promptly leave. The silver dog demon sat there in silence. He felt no remorse for his assistant. The priest deserved what was happening. He had been trying to pick up the new receptionist recently despite knowing the company protocol about inner-office dating. No matter how many times Sesshoumaru pressed the tip of Bakusaiga against the pervert’s crotch and sincerely contemplated making him a eunuch, the moron continued to try to slyly pick up female coworkers behind his back thus stalling the women’s productivity.
Sesshoumaru’s eyes slanted. If the bozou didn’t succeed in this contract, he would castrate him and then possibly throw his ass off the top of the forty story sky rise. He was rich enough that he could easily get off from a murder charge. Also, it might actually add to his reputation as well. The dog demon glanced out the window, appearing bored. He had no patience for stupidity. Thus why he did not really like humans – they were a species genetically programmed to be morons. Yet the monk was the only assistant he hadn’t fired or decapitated. Though he was a pervert and sly, he was good at what he did thus the demon Lord would not rid of him until he failed.
Sesshoumaru’s gold eyes flashed dangerously.
And Kami help the bozou if he ever did.
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A few days later…
Miroku sat in the tech department in one of the labs, his hands grasping at his hair that was no longer gelled into place and now stood on end making him look like he had been electrocuted. His purple eyes wide, he looked down at his cell phone in a mixture of horror and frustration. It had been five days since the contract started and it was due tomorrow. But nothing had been done or even started. The artists he had tasked to designing the sketches of the avatar were off on sick leave and he had tried every temporary agency in Japan for a concept artist but there were none available. If that wasn’t bad enough, add in the fact the tech department 3D artists were currently working on a large project due tomorrow as well for that stupid computer software contract Sesshoumaru decided to accept last week behind Miroku’s back.
‘This is bad... no, scratch that, this is extremely bad.’ Miroku chanted mentally to himself.
There weren’t any sketches of the vocaloid avatar. There wasn’t a 3D model. There was nothing done at all and the clock was ticking down mercilessly. The houshi face planted into the desk and groaned into the unforgiving steel top. He lay there defeated. It was over. There was no possible chance for retribution or salvation. He was officially the soon to be deceased assistant number one hundred and seven of Yoshida Sesshoumaru.
Miroku thought to himself wryly, ‘I’m doomed. He’s going to kill to me. After five years of successfully evading murder, I’m going to be skinned alive and then melted into a puddle of goop by that stony-faced bastard.’
He raised himself from the desk and cupped his face wearily. He didn’t know what else to do. He almost felt like claiming suicide - at least it would be a Hell lot less painful than whatever Sesshoumaru was going to do. The houshi sighed, his shoulders slumping. Slowly, he sat back in the chair and gazed at the ceiling stonily. He might as well just go sit in Sesshoumaru’s office and wait for him to come into work tomorrow morning. He would drink as much of the demon Lord’s imported whiskey and rye that was in the fridge in his office and get as drunk as possible. If he had to have one last hoo-rah, it might as well be a defiant one.
Miroku’s hands fell from his head and he sat there, slumped forward weakly. He had to figure this out. He had to make it right. His ability to live depended on it. He hadn’t even produced on heir yet and he could just imagine how angry his parents would be if he left them grand-parentless. The assistant looked around the lab desperately. His eyes settled on the computer that had been left on by one of his staff. It hummed in the silent building, its monitor bright in the darkened room. The houshi stared at it. Slowly, the wheels in his mind started turning. He had taken social media as a minor in university. He had also taken graphic design. Miroku looked down at his daily planner in shock as the plan formulated in his wracked brain.
It was a dumb plan born from desperation and fear.
But it was so crazy that it could work. Or at least he reasoned so.
In a blur of movement, he charged through the office, grabbing things randomly. A few magazines from the sitting area that the female staff sifted through on their breaks, a paper pad, a few pencils and blue and black pens were his haul before he ran back into the lab. He threw everything on the steel table top, casting the plans for the near by New-U android shell on a table underneath a blanket on the other side of the lab onto the floor with out a care, and furiously began scribbling. He flipped through pages in the magazine, tearing out pictures of famous actresses and current fashion outfits meant for otakus and a few high school outfit promotions, and placed it all together before him as a collage.
He then grabbed a pencil and scribbled furiously in silence. His violet eyes narrowed in concentration, he swiftly sketched a female form. Long hair with bangs was the first thing he drew – he liked long hair and lots of other vocaloids he had seen usually had ridiculously long hair. Also, the woman he had in mind, his office crush for the last five years Narita Kikyou, was his inspiration for this girl. Kikyou was the most beautiful woman in the office and strangely very alike to Sesshoumaru. He considered for a moment before settling on the length of her hair to being down to her butt, much alike to Kikyou who usually wore it loose. Next he began on her face. Large, innocent eyes, a beaming, innocent smile and finely shaped eyebrows and a cute nose were drawn into the face. He then added long, slender limbs and began to sketch her outfit. He glanced at the high school outfit pictures he had torn out and a few otaku costumes.
Frowning thoughtfully, he quickly drew a short skirt that fell to just above the middle of the thighs, long thigh-high stockings, black platforms and a loose shirt with a high school uniform scarf around her shoulders and tied between her breasts in a neat bow. Miroku paused for a moment when he noticed he had drawn the avatar with fairly average boobs. A slow smile spread on his lips.
O, he had a way of annoying Sesshoumaru.
An evil grin on his handsome face, he quickly erased the two proportioned orbs and added two very round, very large breasts on the character. If he was going to die, he was going to die for something he believed in. And in his opinion, there was nothing nobler of a cause to die for than that of woman’s body. The houshi then moved onto the finer details. A few costume designs were added and finally, the sketch was done. He eyed it critically. She looked hot. Definitely had sex appeal and would be a hit because of anime-ish look he had drawn her in. He pushed his feet on the ground and rolled the chair to in front of the computer.
In a blur of movement, he placed his sketch into a scanner beside the computer and quickly uploaded it. From there, he opened a figure generating program and began to create a 2D model. Hours ticked by and his fingers deftly typed in the coding, merging the vocaloid software into the avatar, his violet eyes sagging and with visible dark bags beneath them. He ignored the clock that seemed to mock him from the wall, its neon digits counting down the hours until he was murdered by Sesshoumaru.
Click click click click click.
The sound of his fingers tapping on the keyboard and the buttons on the mouse were the only sounds other than the whirling of the computer fans. Sweat dotted his forehead and slid down his temples. Yet he continued to push. His existence was threatened. His finely shaped jaw clenched, he hunched over the keyboard protectively and continued to work. The hours flew by, until finally, his fingers stopped their dance across the keyboard. Funahashi Miroku slowly straightened up, his back cracking and popping loudly, and looked at the 2D model before him. He rotated it in a 360 view, looking over every detail he had designed. His tired eyes slid to the clock.
7:06AM.
Sesshoumaru would be here in less than fifty minutes. The dog demon was always on time and though the office didn’t open until 8:30AM, he came in early and expected his staff to do so as well. Miroku returned his weary gaze on the monitor. The vocaloid stared at him from behind the screen, continuing to slowly rotate. Knowing his body was beginning to shut down, he withdrew an USB port and plugged it into the computer. The houshi loaded the entire data of the avatar, the personality settings safely marked and uploaded into the device. His hand clenched the little bit of hope for his survival as he took it out of the port. His vision began to darken, his eyelids falling surely over his eyes. They felt so heavy it was like they were made of lead. Finally, with a thump, his face crashed into the keyboard and his world went black.
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“Funahashi-sama… Funahashi-sama…” A voice called to him.
Miroku looked around him curiously. Four beautiful women continued to sit around or on him, offering him daifuku and onigiri as he lay in a beach chair, content with life. Yet when his beautiful nymphs waved good bye to him and his beachy world became dark, the monk reluctantly open his eyes. His purple irises bleary, he looked up to see a hovering secretary looking down at him. Ayame, a wolf demoness and his department’s secretary, currently hovered over him, her bright red hair almost blinding his tired eyes as the fiery strands reflected the morning light.
Miroku groaned and groggily sat up, his palm resting against his pounding forehead. Trying to clear his throat, he croaked, “Huh…? Ayame? What are you doing here?”
Ayame looked over Miroku critically. He looked absolutely terrible which was odd for the usually pristine monk. The lecher was always immaculately groomed. The wolf demoness suspected he did so to impress the female staff, which she would never tell him, he managed to do so. She crinkled her nose when she smelt Miroku’s morning breath and his stale cologne. Raising her head, she pinched her nose and looked down at the confused human petulantly.
“Apparently you fell asleep while working, Funahashi-sama. Are you trying to earn the employee of the year award?” She quipped sarcastically.
Miroku looked up at Ayame and froze. She wore a small black blazer and pencil skirt. Ayame had a big chest… a very round, luscious chest to be specific. It was restrained by the tight blazer whose buttons currently strained against her chest’s impressive size. A slow, dreamy smile spread on his face. This wasn’t such a bad thing to wake up too. His eyes closing as he smiled at her charmingly, the assistant cast the shrewd wolf demoness his most dashing morning grin.
“Of course not, Ayame-san. However, may I say you look particularly beautiful today? It is quite an honor to wake up to such beauty.”
Ayame looked down at the handsome human in shock. Her cheeks turning red with embarrassment, she looked away shyly, scowling.
“W-well… arigatou, Funahashi-sama but I don’t think that’s appropriate-“
Grope grope.
An awkward silence fell in the room. Ayame eyes widened to an impressive size as she felt something fondle her round butt through her tight skirt. Her left eye brow twitching, she looked down to see Miroku contently sighing as he continued to gently squeeze and rub her right cheek. Her emerald eyes flared furiously when she saw a distinctive trail of drool beginning to make its way from the corner of his mouth. Her red pig tails standing on end, the demoness fisted her hands and with out any hesitance, hooked the pervert beneath his chin and sent him flying.
Miroku landed across the room in a heap, his hand catching the blanket that covered the New-U android shell. The android shook on the table and a few pieces that were yet to be installed fell from it on the floor around him, the USB port he had been holding and unaware of falling from his grasp and mingling with the others unbeknownst to the pair. Groaning, he looked up to see Ayame stomping towards him, rolling up her long sleeves with the obvious intention of getting serious. Yelping, he held up his hands in an attempt to placate her.
“A-A-Ayame-san… gomen ne… that was-“
Ayame growled and grasped his rumpled shirt. She jerked him up, their noses touching, and snarled.
“You perverted, disgusting, moronic bozou!”
Miroku smiled weakly at the demoness. “Would you possibly believe that when I just wake up I have no coherence of my surroundings or actions?” He asked hopefully.
Ayame bared her fangs. “You have no coherence any time, monk! I am going to-“
“Ahem.” A soft sound made the wolf and priest freeze.
The two looked over in unison to see the head of finance standing in the door way, Narita Kikyou. The priestess stood in the doorway elegantly, her narrow amethyst gaze regarding the spectacle. Ayame dropped Miroku swiftly as Kikyou continued to stand there regally, eyeing the two employees coldly. Those frozen purple orbs slid over the pair until settling on Ayame. The wolf demoness managed to look some what abashed as Miroku stood up, trying to smooth out some of the wrinkles in his clothes.
Kikyou peered at the wolf demoness calmly. “Koizumi-san, can you please go prepare the boardroom? Yoshida-sama will be arriving in the next few minutes for Funahashi-san’s presentation.” She ordered coolly.
Ayame nodded swiftly and hurried out of the dishevelled room, leaving Kikyou and Miroku together. Miroku swallowed over the lump that lodged itself in his throat. Meeting Kikyou’s withering stare, he managed his most charming smile despite his frazzled hair and rumpled appearance.
“Ohayo gozaimasu, Narita-san! How are you this fine-“
Kikyou held up her pen and efficiently silenced the handsome monk. Her beautiful face stoic, the priestess looked around the room. Her high heels tapped loudly against the glossy marble floors. Miroku fumbled nervously. The miko paused at his work station and picked up a sketch of the avatar. A slender brow arched. Miroku swallowed nervously, his feet shuffling. He sincerely hoped she didn’t notice the similarities between her and the sketch. He watched Kikyou place it back amongst the pile and pin him with a flinty look.
“You aren’t prepared for Yoshida-sama, are you Funahashi.” It was a statement, not a question.
Miroku’s shoulders slumped and he rubbed the back of his head anxiously. “No, to be honest, Narita-san. I-”
Kikyou sighed, stalling his explanation. The beautiful woman regarded the frumpy priest with something akin to pity. Kikyou mentally snorted. Miroku, for all his wonderful administrative skills, was going to die. The priestess almost felt bad for the pervert. While Miroku had been a faithful and stellar assistant to the infamous daiyoukai, they both knew well that Sesshoumaru would not tolerate any failure from him, not even once. Today the project was supposed to be presented to the board of directors and she, the finance director, was supposed to bill the client today.
‘It appears there will only be a bill to this company for a funeral.’ She thought as she looked over the pale man.
She knew the bouzo was aware he was a dead man walking. She should have not cared. Kikyou never allowed herself to feel anything for co-workers or even people in general. It was perhaps one of the traits that Yoshida Sesshoumaru approved of in her and the reason why he had promoted her to such an important role in his company. Narita Kikyou did not allow her logic to be swayed by frivolous things such as emotion. She was in control and logical. It worked for her and she was quickly climbing the pyramid in the business world because of it. Yet, right now, she felt some odd sense of sympathy for Miroku. Despite the fact the lecher hit on all her female employees and made it obvious he had crush on her, Kikyou could not help but admire his business savvy and, to be honest, he was charming when he wanted. Kikyou mentally sighed. She could not believe what she was about to do. She raised her hand and pointed her pen to the door.
“Go get ready, Funahashi-san, and try to appear a bit organized.” She ordered.
Miroku’s eyes widened. He looked at the director in awe who continued to look at him coolly.
“Arigatou, Narita-sama. Excuse me.” He stammered and quickly stumbled to his office.
He always kept an extra suit and grooming supplies in case he had to impress a certain lady or had a date after work which was pretty normal for him. Kikyou stood in the middle of the lag, Miroku gone, and frowned when she noticed the New-U android. She looked behind her shoulder and saw no one was around. Kikyou approached the android, curious. A simple female shell lay on the metallic table. Its face had no characteristics to make it appear as an individual. It was just en empty husk made of metal and wires. Kikyou tilted her head to the side. She had wondered if perhaps technology was advancing too far.
The android before her was supposed to have artificial organs, blood and various human anatomical features for practicing medicinal students. Did that mean it could feel pain? The miko softly exhaled through her nose. She regarded the robot and her usually hard gaze softened a bit. She almost pitied the thing before her. Though it had no brain or feelings, she felt that perhaps they, the human race, were going too far and blurring too many lines between humanity and technology. She frowned and shook her head. She was not paid to question the company or its directons. Besides, it was a technological advancement that could save millions of lives and better improve the health care system world wide. This simple andriod, made to look and function like a human, would help medical students to fine tune and hone life-saving skills.
Kikyou felt her conscience calm a bit with that rationality. Satisfied, the miko turned to walk away and head to the boardroom. She was never one to be late. Walking, she froze when the tip of her pointed heels hit something on the ground. The director looked down and saw a few shinny metal pieces were scattered about while the blanket meant to cover the andriod lay in a heap at her feet as well. The miko snorted a bit. It appeared Ayame had been a bit too enthusiastic in disciplining Miroku. Shaking her head, Kikyou knelt gracefully, balancing herself in her five inch heels and picked up the various chips and USB ports and turned to the android to install them. Her fingers clasping the largest of them all, the USB device, Kikyou looked over the android trying to find where it would be plugged in. She didn’t want Ayame or Miroku to be in trouble from the scientists and tech crew for fiddling with the android. The miko frowned.
When had she started helping people?
Kikyou snorted. She was becoming soft apparently. That would stop after she saved the two idiots today. They would be the first and last people to be treated to her mercy. In the middle of the android’s chest was a little door. Kikyou arched a brow and opened it. In the middle of all the wires and artificial organs sat a motherboard of some sort. She looked at the USB and the port on the motherboard and noticed that they were exactly the same size and shape. She shrugged her slender shoulders.
‘That must be where this goes.’ She rationalized as she plugged in the USB device and shut the door of the android’s chest cavity.
With out a second look, the priestess picked up the blanket and covered the robot again. She then turned on her expensive heel and strode from the lab, shutting the doors behind her.
_____________________________________________________________
Miroku stood before the mirror on the back of his office door and adjusted his tie. He was sweating bullets. Sesshoumaru was in – Ayame had just texted his blackberry warning him. The priest paced back and forth. He had to get to the lab and get the sketches and the USB that had all the data on it. He was pretty sure what he had created last night was acceptable. He rationalized it was at least something and if Sesshoumaru liked what he saw, Miroku was saved from an untimely death.
He exited his office and swiftly walked to the labs. He didn’t even acknowledge the secretaries who tried to flirt with him. The women looked each other in shock as the office pervert ignored them. Miroku found the lab and was thankful no techs or personnel were using it. Looking around curiously, he quickly began gathering his sketches and notes. He then headed to the lap top where he remembered he had placed the USB last. He looked at his seat and the desk. His heart began to hammer steadily faster as he couldn’t find the key. His violet eyes widening in horror, the priest practically threw the computer in a desperate attempt to find the device. He felt all around the desk top. His entire body shaking and pooling sweat, Miroku shakily got to the floor and crawled under the desk and valiantly felt around for the USB port.
‘Where is it? Where the fuck is it? I remember having it! It wasn’t a dream! I know it!’ He screamed mentally.
“Uh, Funahashi-sama, Yoshida-sama is ready for you.” Ayame’s voice called from behind him.
Miroku cursed and swiftly stood. His head banged loudly against the underside of the table. Ayame winced as the monk swore colorfully as he emerged from beneath the table. The wolf demoness blinked in shock when she saw Miroku’s pale, terrified face. It was very odd to not see his usually handsome smile or relaxed grin. She frowned worriedly and stepped forward.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
Miroku slowly shook his head as he got up.
“I’m fucked.” He croaked.
Ayame’s eyes rounded at the curse. Blinking rapidly, she leaned forward and whispered, “What’s wrong?”
Miroku shook his head and rubbed his hand across his face wearily. “I can’t find the USB port - the one with the entire presentation and avatar on it. I don’t know where it is.” He explained shakily.
Ayame cursed and looked around. While she hated Miroku’s perverseness she didn’t want him to die. Desperately she began looking around with Miroku. The ookami youkai even got on her knees in her skirt to inspect the ground. Miroku watched Ayame woodenly. He didn’t even care that her butt looked great as it wiggled around on the floor. He was a dead man and dead men didn’t get to enjoy sex. A heaviness settling in him and a very horrible churning in his stomach, the priest sighed and called to the demoness to get up. Ayame glanced at Miroku over her shoulder as she knelt on all fours under the table the android rested on. Her emerald eyes sparkled nervously.
“Mi-… I mean, Funahashi-sama…” She began.
He held up a hand and shook his head. “It is fine, Ayame-san.” He said as he grabbed his drawings and few notes he had scribbled.
The secretary watched, torn, as he then left the lab, his walk much like a march to the guillotine. Miroku looked over his shoulder at the distraught Ayame and cast her a shaky grin.
“I’ll be fine. I have been a loyal assistant to Yoshida-sama.” He stated with a fake smile.
Ayame frowned sadly, her red pig tails seeming to droop much like a dog’s ears.
“Funahashi-sama...” She trailed off uncertainly.
He laughed loudly, interrupting the girl. “I’ll be back. So please see to it to clean up our mess from earlier before Sesshoumaru-sama sees it.” He breezily while trying to sound nonchalant.
She watched Miroku disappear around the corner of hallway and shook her head sadly, her flaming red pigtails swaying with the movement. She would miss the lecher, that’s for sure. He walked through the halls of the massive building, trying to ignore the sympathetic looks his co-workers cast him, and the sobs of the female employees who he had charmed for the last five years. Miroku stood outside the board room and exhaled and inhaled slowly. Clasping the binder of the otherwise useless papers, the priest mentally prayed to Buddha for help.
He was a priest after all. While he had not been the most pure or most devout, he had tried and everyone deserved divine intervention at least once in their life. Miroku was now calling on his once-in-a-life-time card. Shaking his head and clearing his throat, he opened the heavy wood doors with their gold knobs and entered the massive room. The entire board sat at a huge table that went one for eight meters with plush executive chairs. At the front of the table and lounging there sat his boss. Sesshoumaru sat back in the chair, one leg neatly resting across the other, his long talons clicking against each other. Those frozen gold eyes bore into the shaking priest. Miroku hesitantly made his way to the other end of the table, across from the daiyoukai, and bowed before the board as low as possible, sweat dripping from his hairline down his face.
“Good morning, most honorable members. I have come today with the proposal for the VocaWare contract and to present some of the material myself and my team have been working on.” He said as calmly as he could as he felt Sesshoumaru’s predatory gaze fix on him in a deadly fashion.
He strode to the white board and began to pin the sketches he had worked on and numerous notes and data on the board. Silence echoed in the massive board room as he did so. He glanced at Kikyou who was glancing at Sesshoumaru. Miroku didn’t even bother looking over at the dog demon. He was too afraid to meet the demon Lord’s eyes. Coughing nervously, the priest removed an extendable pointer from the silk pocket in his suit coat and flicked it out. It went stiff with a snap. He pointed to a diagram he had drawn of the avatar.
“Due to the fact that the target audience of the VocaWare Company is within the age group of thirteen years old to the early twenties, the avatar’s appearance is meant to appeal to the interests of that audience. Many preteens and teenagers want an idol, thus why there is always a “popular” group made up of fashionable adolescents.” He explained to the board members.
They stared back at him placidly, most of their faces hidden behind strict, stern masks. Miroku glanced at Kikyou who was warily eyeing Sesshoumaru who in turn continued to appear completely emotionless. Swallowing nervously, Miroku returned his attention to the board members. They were much easier to face than the daiyoukai. He forced a charming smile and continued. He pointed the tip of the pointer to a few of his diagrams.
“The character we have designed is a young female, between the ages of eighteen and twenty so that she is relatable and yet still idol-like for the audience. She is of course attractive and has some sex appeal for a bit of fan service.” His smile faltered a bit when he noticed Sesshoumaru’s eyes slightly narrow at the sex appeal of the vocaloid and her evidently rounded figure in the drawings.
Miroku ignored the dangerous flare in his boss’ youki. He was already a dead man. This entire venture to try and live had been rather foolish on his end. He focused his tired violet gaze on the representatives from the VoceWare Company. Two human men sat on either side of a rather large human male dressed in a gaudy suit that made Miroku’s fashion sense wince in terror. The houshi fixated on the rotund business owner. The man leaned back in his chair, all his fat fingers with their gold rings slowly tapping against one another before him. His small mouth quivered making the few wisps of hair that Miroku could only assume was supposed to be a moustache to lightly sway.
The man’s employees watched their boss hawkishly. They tensed when he opened his mouth, his heavy face thoughtful.
“All looks well, Funahashi-san, considering these are only the beginning phase of the project.” He started. Miroku stiffened when he felt the little ‘but’ in the man’s sentence.
“However,” The man began, his beady eyes narrowing, “I could not help but notice that there is a lack of a model, even a 3D avatar on a projection, for us to view. We have only seen sketches and drawings and heard your ideas and target.”
The two men on either side of them swung to look at Miroku almost accusingly, their dark eyes behind their glasses narrowed. Miroku fixed his charming grin in place, forcing himself to not turn tail and run. A stressed silence seemed to echo in the boardroom. Nervously, the monk adjusted his tie at his throat and gave a jovial laugh.
“Yamamoto-sama, a 3D has been completed but it has been finicky due to an issue with how it was loaded onto the USB drive it was saved onto. My staff are currently working on resolving the issue-“
“If you have a 3D model completed then you should have it saved on a hard drive, surely.” Yamamoto’s second hand man, Harada, interrupted.
Miroku felt his smile waver. He honestly wanted to leap across the room and strangle Harada at that moment. He was a small guy and a little rat so it wouldn’t be hard for the taijustu-trained monk. He could feel Sesshoumaru’s eyes probing him mercilessly. He was sinking fast and the light at the end of the tunnel was rapidly fading. He had to quickly recover the situation or his life was forfeit.
“Yamamoto-sama-“
“Go retrieve the model.” A rich, timbre voice cut in softly.
The entire room went silent like a tomb. It seemed the temperature dropped a few degrees as a chilliness settled in the air. Miroku hesitantly looked at his employer. Sesshoumaru lounged regally in his executive chair, his flawless face stoic. But his gold eyes were fixed on Miroku like a cat waiting to kill a mouse. Then and there, Funahashi Miroku knew it was the end of the line for him. He had no choice. Gulping, he shakily nodded and turned on a trembling leg. At the table beside Sesshoumaru, Kikyou watched the assistant and mentally sighed.
Miroku was dead. At least she had tried or so she reasoned.
The priest exited the room swiftly and, with out a thought, ran to the lab. He had to try one last time to look for the USB port. If he didn’t find it, he was going to try either to get a plane ticket out of Japan as soon as possible or kill himself. Either one were his only options if he couldn’t find it. He tore through the halls, knocking people and carts over. Finally he flew through the slick metal doors and quickly locked them behind him. His heavy panting filled the computer lab. The only noise in it was the whirling of the twenty some computers stored in there.
Miroku swore and pressed his sweat covered forehead against the doors. His eyes began to tear up. He was afraid. His entire body was pouring sweat to the point there was a puddle forming beneath his feet. He was shaking like he had some sort of nervous system deficiency. He ran a trembling hand through his wet hair, slicking it back somewhat. He had to look quick and find it or get his ass out of Japan, either alive or dead, it didn’t matter. The monk turned around and began to desperately search. His gut was rolling and his heart hammering. He looked at every nook and cranny. He felt around his pockets, looked under every piece of equipment and even looked on top of shelving and light fixtures.
A good ten minutes later, Miroku fell to the floor on his knees, his head bowed in defeat. His jaw clenched to suppress his wails and sobs, the priest shook his head from side to side, bemused. It was useless. There was no hope. He covered his face with his hands.
And that’s when he heard it.
The soft rustle of material drew his attention. He quickly looked up from his palms and in the room. It looked completely empty and he had assumed it was. His heart hammering, he looked around anxiously. He could not help but assume it was Sesshoumaru there to kill him. Sesshoumaru was stealthy and an accomplished killer so it was practical to assume the daiyoukai was capable of sneaking into a locked lab easily. He stood on his shaking legs quickly.
“Hello?” He said hesitantly.
Another rustle and a small peep made him jump. Miroku’s brow furrowed. Sesshoumaru would definitely not make such a feminine noise. Looking around curiously, he saw the blanket on the table moving. He froze. It looked like there was someone underneath the cotton sheet. The houshi looked behind his shoulder and back at the figure in confusion. Who the Hell could possibly be in here? Could it be a slacking employee trying to take a nap? Miroku hoped so. If he caught someone wasting time at work perhaps that would take some of the heat off of him from Sesshoumaru later on. Striding forward, the assistant grabbed some of the material and ripped it off whoever it was beneath it.
“Hey what do you think you're-“ His tongue seemed to freeze instantly.
Large blue eyes gazed up at him as thick lashes fluttered as they blinked. Miroku felt his jaw loosen and then drop. Those sapphire orbs regarded him curiously before an almost too beautiful smile spread across bubblegum pink lips. He watched in amazement as that perfectly formed mouth began to move and a high, soft feminine voice broke the silence.
“Konochi wa, o genki desu ka?”
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A/N: And Kagome has been created! :D
Translations:
Konochi wa, o genki desu ka? - Hello, how are you today?
Houshi- Priest
Daiyoukai - Demon Lord
Youki - Demon energy