Chapter #3O this to MafiaPuppet by: wdfang The later part of this chapter is owed to MafiaPuppet on deviantart.com from his fic broken mold chapter one. This story needed something to get it going, and I thought this was a good point to branch off of. the work can be found here http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/2978...
Kagome sat at home. Bored. There had been no news of Naraku for weeks. With Naraku, no news was NOT good news, but it had gotten to the point where Kagome had decided to go back to her time for awhile to catch up on her school work. It took her a whole week to do it. Afterwards, she went back to the fedual era. There was still no news of Naraku. Kagome helped the others search for the whole day, but there was no success. Inuyasha said he would fetch her as soon as there was news of Naraku, and that was three days ago. So, Kagome had nothing to do. She thought it would be nice if he would take this lull to spend some time with her, but he never even hinted of offering. She could tell that he was thinking about Kikyo again.
Kagome got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen. She opened the pantry door. She smiled guitly.
Lately, Kagome had been feeling a lot like an unhappy fat girl.
Everywhere she looked she saw more, too. When she was away, her mother always liked to splurge on things that reminded her of her daughter. Apparently, Miss Higurashi knew of her daughter’s secret love for the treat. Shelves were lined with entire industrial-size packages of empty calorie laden snacks. Kagome greeted it all eagerly, savoring each bite as if it were her last and taking bite after bite as if there were no more bites after. She didn’t care that sometimes her input exceeded her output; that sometimes she took in another delight before she swallowed the last. Each newly found flavor combination was welcomed as it assaulted her palette with something else even more magnificent.
This was not the way Inuyasha’s lover should be acting, she told herself. Kagome Higurashi was a respectable, strong-minded, beautiful girl who would never just suddenly give and let herself go, Kagome thought through another bite of a DEAN Bar.
However, to her horror, the image of that confident, beautiful girl that had always remained omnipresent in her mind was changing. She saw in her mind’s eye that which she had always aspired to be. She was the good student. She was the powerful athlete. She was the loyal friend. She was the attractive girlfriend. Or would be, anyway.
With every single ounce of sensuous chocolate she slid into her mouth, that girl changed. She became content; placated, lazy. Her values of her friends suddenly took a backseat to the value of her food. Her goals and aspirations fell subject to her gluttony.
Then she also saw no more scales. No more diets. No more counted calories and long-term goals. She couldn’t explain it, nor did she want to, but the sudden of promise of just forgetting all the societal pressures made Kagome giddy. She forgot all her self-conscious glances at magazines. She forgot her gnawing envy of the girl one dress-size smaller than her. She thought dizzily of no more salad, no more celery, no more rabbit food. It felt good.
But then, above all, the Miko saw her hips. She saw sleek, slender, shapely hips and thighs. She saw her flat stomach, her thin waist, perk breasts, defined arms, and tight ass. She saw all the fruits of countless hours of hiking, of track meets, of gym class. She saw the result of watching her weight, of counting her calories, of denying herself excess. And she saw it all being thrown away. It, too, felt good? Toned legs gave way to thick, jiggly thighs. Slender hips broadened, straining against the seams of some pretend pair of jeans, roly-poly tummy bulging over them. Looking down at the candy bar in her hand, she could imagine, even feel, the fat bulge of an unkempt double chin. Yet it was almost as if none of that mattered. She’d just shrug it off and unwrap another. She felt free, in some unexplainable way. She thought of binging, of getting fat, and told herself it would just be tonight. She’d diet tomorrow; she’d break even. Today, she’d let go, forgetting more and more burdens as they hid themselves away within her taut stomach. It felt good to let go. It felt unbelievably, obscenely and offensively good.
It was there, on the ceramic tile flooring of the pantry, stomach clutched and painfully distended against her blouse, that Ms. Higurashi found her. Still nibbling on a chocolate bar, her mother swore the 16-year old girl had more of the melted chocolate smeared across her lips and cheeks than in her mouth.
The light of the pantry had never been flicked on.
Kagome Higurashi has experienced the bitter realities of life without food, without comforts, and without Inuyasha. Finally, something had snapped. And she was determined not to let him or it get to her again.
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