Thunder & Metal by ButtButtDoodle
Chapter One
Disclaimer: Inuyasha and it's characters are the intellectual property of Rumiko Takahashi. I just write fanfiction about it.
Author's Notes: I originally wrote this world inspired by cyberpunk stories like Tokyo Crazy Paradise and Akira, so keep that vibe in mind whilst reading. Enjoy!
Thunder & Metal
Chapter One
888
He smelled like electricity.
That was the only word Kagome Higurashi could possibly think of to describe her new next-door neighbour. Before moving up to the grungy city of Tokyo, Kagome had lived the entirety of her childhood in the southern coast of Japan, where summer thunderstorms were expected and plentiful. Her own father had worked for an electric company erecting and fixing the ever expanding sea of utility posts that now dotted the once-rural streets of the small seaside town her family lived in.
Although Mr. Higurashi had passed away rather early in her youth, Kagome could fondly remember kneeling next to him, passing him tools as he fixed the electric outlet of their "traditional" (aka: very frigging old) house. One could say that Kagome had become an expert of electricity, if only by close association, so she could always recognize the scent when she smelled it. It was an incredibly useful talent too - Kagome never had to second-guess if she'd let her hair curler plugged in, or if she'd forgotten to turn off the electric oven. She could always smell it.
Her family and friends found the quirk rather amusing, teasing her endlessly any chance they got. Electricity, after all, couldn't possibly have a smell.
And yet...
The odor of the young man next door was distinctly sharp.
It wasn't like the comforting scent of rainy days and warm heating-blankets behind closed doors. Neither was it the clean smell of the ocean just as thunder-clouds rolled in from the horizon.
No, it was more like the sinister spark of a power-line before exploding and plunging all of the surrounding buildings into an unexpected black-out; like the pungent, thick smell that came off a burning pine tree after being struck by lightning, the small echoes of static only giving the illusion of life inside the charcoaled husk of the trunk. The static smell surrounded the man like a miasma, stifling, eerie and impossible for the raven-haired woman to ignore.
The first time she caught whiff of his acrid scent was also their first meeting and, although she had hoped otherwise, not their last.
Kagome watched from her periphery as the man briskly searched inside the pocket of his over-sized, white bomber jacket for the keys to his flat. They had coincidentally gotten home at the same time, as luck would have it, their doors only a handful of feet away from each other in the long yet cramped hallway of the dingy apartment complex she now rented. Kagome searched for her own keys inside her bag with one hand, remembering the mini pepper-spray attached to the keyring and mentally thanking her younger brother Souta for gifting it to her last Christmas. The other hand covered her nose surreptitiously from the smell, her eyes watering at the edges like she had looked directly into a streak of light.
Her action did not go unnoticed by the stranger.
Yellow eyes, just as electric as the smell he emanated from his very pores, glanced into her own cautious blue ones. Kagome guiltily dropped her hand from her nose and sniffed furtively, not wanting his first impression of her to be one of rudeness. From that moment on, they would be neighbours after all. Kagome plastered a smile, but before she could introduce herself, the man said:
"The lock on that door does not work."
Kagome blinked away the wetness in her eyes, not sure if she was more startled by his bold statement or by the fact that even his voice sounded like thunder, all rumble and heat. Her smile withered at the edges.
"How could you possibly know that?" Kagome asked carefully, vainly fighting back suspicion and failing miserably.
The petite raven wasn't one to judge others based on appearances - her mother had taught her better than that - but the taller man harbored all the indicators of 'career criminal' if Kagome ever saw one. The humbleness of her own childhood hometown lent itself to poverty, and as such, small gangs were not unknown to her; that is, she was familiar with his type.
The man's tall, imposing figure was fully clothed in monocramatic activewear; the white bomber jacket - aged and tattered and worn confidently over his broad shoulders like battlefield armour - contrasted solidly against the rather simple black undershirt and joggers. Fashionable, but practical. The outfit of a man who needed to be presentable enough to enter public spaces with little scrutiny but could still comfortably give a roundhouse kick in. He was fit too, she noticed as her eyes trailed across the toned muscle visible even under the garments; but not fit in an athletic, gym-rat way. Rather in the way one developed muscles from being involved in turf wars and street fights. Several of them. His long white hair was pulled back messily into a low bun, bangs falling haphazardly across his brow and revealing several face tattoos – a bold half moon smack in the middle of his forehead, and two fuchsia stripes on each side of the face running parallel to his eyes, which matched the tattooed lines on his exposed, toned forearms. Even his eyes, lightning yellow, were sharp and alert and slit, like that of Earth's most lethal natural predators.
Kagome nearly gasped.
Youkai.