InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Beside You in Time ❯ 1615: Surat ( Chapter 5 )

He spent the early morning hours on the veranda, leaning against the railing and watching his garden come to life. The flowers that Rin would have loved so much were opening, and he could smell the tamarind tree's fruit mixing with the scent of the mangoes the women were slicing in the kitchen and the scent from the bonfires of the night before. It promised to be a beautiful day - even for his usually detached sensibilities - but he wouldn't be able to enjoy it. As soon as he ate breakfast, he would retreat indoors and remain there, alone, until nighttime, just as he did every year on this day.

And so he was irritated to realize that Kagome's soft footfalls were coming down the hallway and that she was empty-handed. "Sesshoumaru?"

The taiyoukai turned to see that she was already leaving a trail of golden dust. He frowned and crossed his arms. "You were instructed to leave me be, unless it was to bring me my meals."

She gave him a bright smile. "Oh, lighten up! It's Holi!" she said. She twirled in the middle of the room, sending golden particles everywhere and letting her head scarf fall back from her black hair. Her face was half-covered in the metallic powder and the rest of her body, intricately wrapped in a cotton sari that was once red, was thoroughly doused. The wood and ceramic bangles that were usually so plain, shone as they moved along her arms. Even in the lush surroundings of Sesshoumaru's study - complete with silk sitting cushions and a low, mahogany desk - she was brilliant. He looked away. "I know you hide away every year," she said, "but it's supposed to be fun! It's a festival! Of course, that explains why you think it's so awful. You missed a wonderful bonfire in the city square last night, by the way."

"I fail to see how getting ambushed and covered in dye and dust constitutes a celebration," Sesshoumaru muttered. "And no fire will chase away demons."

Kagome laughed - for even Sesshoumaru had to admit that the one positive of Holi was that Kagome was never sour, regardless of what happened - and came closer. "Well, I think it's wonderful. You should see Nivritti! She's already covered from head to toe in yellow and magenta. Those boys from the market got her." She winked the eye that was dusted in gold. "I think she might marry one of them."

"And are you wedding the one that has covered you in gold?"

She blushed slightly and shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous." She watched as Sesshoumaru turned his head towards the hallway again. "Oh, by the way, he's here. Ekram let him in."

"Then I want Ekram fired."

"Absolutely not. Ekram is an excellent servant and one of the few that actually likes you," she said distractedly, as she pulled her head scarf back up over her hair. "Settle down. It's not like he's not going to cover you in dye."

Sesshoumaru wanted to argue, but there was nothing he could do about it now. The man in question was already sweeping around the corner. As his fine silk clothes proclaimed, Darshan Adani was one of the wealthiest farmers in the region and had no qualms in spending that money. It hadn't always been the case - Sesshoumaru had decided when he and Kagome had arrived eight years ago that the dirt-poor Adani was a promising talent who could coax a plant to grow in seawater and then sell it to an ascetic. Sesshoumaru had translated for him to the Englishmen that were just arriving in Surat, making Adani one of the first to profit off of the new trading route. In return, Adani had every farmer and merchant in the area using Sesshoumaru's gifts of language. They had made each other wealthy, and Kagome claimed that they were now friends - something that Sesshoumaru did not care for, but could not deny, in light of the circumstances.

So it was impossible to turn the mortal man away. "Shri Mazumdar! How well you look on this fine day!" he greeted in Hindi.

"Shri Adani," Sesshoumaru muttered. "Welcome."

Adani ignored Sesshoumaru's gesture towards one of the cushions in front of the low desk and approached Kagome instead. "My dear Mehtaji, you are a golden goddess this morning. Parvati herself would be jealous of your beauty," he said, taking her hand in his. "My messengers did well this year."

Kagome smiled and bowed her head. "What kind of man sends his servants to cover a woman in gold?" she teased. "You could have the courtesy to do so yourself, Adaniji."

"I suppose I could, but I am far too shy to declare my affection for you so openly, even on a day when the gods smile on us," the man replied, grinning.

"What are you doing here, Adaniji?" Sesshoumaru broke in before Kagome could reply.

"To business then," the farmer murmured to Kagome. "Here. This is something I have learned from the Englishmen." He bowed deeply and pressed a kiss to the back of Kagome's hand. "Good?" he asked, lifting his brown eyes to hers.

She giggled. "Very good, Adaniji."

"Adaniji," Sesshoumaru echoed, with far less amusement.

The man straightened. "Ah, my name never sounds as sweet coming from his mouth," he said, making Kagome color. He turned to Sesshoumaru. "Yes, yes. You are a difficult man, Mazumdarji, but also forgetful. We have an appointment with the Englishmen this morning. I came to collect you."

"Impossible. I would never schedule an appointment on Holi."

"And yet, you did. You said last time that you would meet them in precisely one week. Today." Adani smiled, showing off his white teeth. "I remember thinking it strange."

"You did not correct me," Sesshoumaru said with an arched brow.

"I never dare to correct you, Mazumdarji," replied Adani, with a wink towards Kagome. "Come. I have palanquins waiting. I do not want our golden goddess to be walking among the people, after all."

Kagome blinked. "I'm going too?"

Sesshoumaru shifted his weight and frowned. "The man that normally serves as secretary for our meetings has died of malaria - something only the English could accomplish in the dry season." Despite a hesitant camaraderie with Adani, the taiyoukai hadn't softened on his views of humanity and its weaknesses. "I offered to bring you as the scribe for our next meeting, as you know both languages."

"Better than he did, actually," Adani said.

"Oh. Well, I'll need to tell the other servants that I'll be gone for the morning," she said.

"Then go and meet us outside," Sesshoumaru replied. "If I have promised a meeting, then I will not be late. And you will wash your face."

"No, I won't," she replied, smiling at Adani. "If you're going to go out into the world today, you have to accept that Holi will not stop for you." She laughed and floated out of the room, still trailing golden dye.

The wealthy farmer watched as she left and sighed. "I think I love her," he said brightly. Looking back at Sesshoumaru, he grinned. "I may have to steal the fair Mehta away from you, Mazumdarji."

"She is not someone that can be stolen away," Sesshoumaru replied, as he knelt down and began gathering his papers from his desk.

"But she is a servant," Adani said, studying his companion's face. "Or are the rumors true?"

Sesshoumaru paused and looked up at the other man. "What rumors would those be?"

"That she is not your servant, but your mistress." He was no longer smiling, and his eyes flickered to the adjoining room, where a large bed was draped in mosquito netting.

The taiyoukai stood. "If that is true, why would you be so willing to marry her?" he asked. "Her reputation is ruined if that is what people truly believe about her."

Adani shrugged. "I am wealthy, but I am, essentially, a farmer. You, my friend, are not. I have never understood why you hide it, but you are not just a negotiator, trading words with the English. One needs only look at you to see that you are from the nobility and a warrior." He stopped for a moment and shrugged again. "Or, you were. I have never asked why you would purposefully act beneath your station, and I do not ask now. But you see, it's far different for a warrior to take a servant into bed than for a farmer to do so."

Sesshoumaru rolled up his parchment carefully. He could not say that Adani was right, but he would not deny that he was more than a translator to be hired at the will of farmers, merchants and sailors. "She is not my mistress," he said at last. "Are you asking to make her your wife?"

"I do not think the gods would be so kind," Adani said, with an easy smile on his lips once again.

The taiyoukai studied him for a moment. Humans and their romantic entanglements - and strangely, the lack thereof - were beyond him. He, personally, did not see what was so difficult about it. He doubted he would ever understand it, and he was perfectly comfortable with that. "We must go," he said, putting an end to it.

Sesshoumaru led his guest through the polished wood hallways where diamonds of light filtered through the latticed walls and out the front, where two palanquins waited at the door with two sets of servants to carry them into the city. Beyond them, across the lawn and the avenue, a temple stood on the banks of the glittering river. Kagome gave the taiyoukai and the farmer an appraising look from where she waited in the doorway. "There you are. We're going to be late after all, if we don't hurry."

"It is improper for our Parvati to be walking today," Adani said, gesturing to the first palanquin. "Will you join me, my goddess?"

"Parvati will grow angry with you, if you continue that," Kagome said with a smile. "And it is equally improper to suggest that I ride along with you, Adaniji." She wagged her finger at the man and then climbed into the second palanquin, where Sesshoumaru joined her.

They settled in for a long ride among the green and gold cushions - Sesshoumaru had built his home on the edge of the city, as far from the smells and sounds of Surat as possible. They heard Adani give his order and they were all lifted into the air and carried down the drive. Sesshoumaru watched as Kagome drew her dupatta closer to her face, as she always did on the rare occasions that she encountered the English - here, she was just as much of an oddity as she had been in London. Sesshoumaru didn't prefer the extra attention either, but today it was necessary - the lack of people speaking and writing both Hindi and English was the reason he had a job. "Do you believe that you will marry?" he asked in Japanese. "Adani or some other male?"

"That's the second time you've asked about my marriage plans this morning," she replied. "Is Adani planning something?"

The dog demon raised an eyebrow at her calm, serious tone. "I do not know." A thought struck him, and he frowned. "Have you had sex with him?"

Her eyes widened momentarily. "I don't know. Did you ever have sex with the countess?" she asked with an equally flat tone.

"The countess?" He frowned a moment, and then his face slid back into into its stoic mask. "That is none of your..."

"Precisely," she interrupted.

"That is different," he said.

Kagome leaned back against the cushions and crossed her arms. "Is it? How?"

"Many believe that you are my mistress."

"And so just because a bunch of old gossips think that I'm a ruined woman, you have the right to know if I actually am?" Kagome rolled her eyes. "Listen, Sesshoumaru, the only reason this whole arrangement has worked for the last twenty years is because we never got into each other's business. We know things about each other, sure, but there are things I don't know and don't want to know about you. I'm certain it's the same way for you. Can't we leave it at that?"

The taiyoukai frowned, annoyed that he had been painted as a busybody. He suddenly felt quite young in comparison to his companion, and he didn't appreciate it. "I only asked because he insinuated that you would be leaving. That is all the information I require."

Kagome relaxed slightly, her hands dropping into her lap. "No, I'm not leaving. Adani doesn't really want to marry me," she said. "He's just like Miroku, flirting with every girl he sees! He just happens to see me a lot more than most."

She was smiling again, just as Adani had done at the end of their conversation. Once again, Sesshoumaru decided to ignore the whole thing, with the added vow to never become involved in anyone's sex life but his own. Kagome was right about one matter - there were things he had no wish to know about her. He leaned back on his own side of the lush palanquin and decided to pretend he had never spoken about it. "I should remind you not to speak when we are with the Englishmen. It is strange enough that a woman is doing a man's work."

"You mean, being a secretary?" She was laughing again, and he didn't understand why. "Oh, I guess I'll try to restrain myself."

"Miko..."

"Yes, yes," she said, waving at him. "I know. I wouldn't dare to interfere in your talks."

"It is what keeps you clothed and fed," he said, gesturing at her sari. The flaky, golden dye was staining Adani's cushions, but he couldn't imagine that the farmer would mind.

Kagome nodded, but didn't say anything. Her place in his household had come to a silent impasse that neither of them really wanted to fight through. She didn't resent doing the work, but she felt she deserved more than just a place of honor among his staff. Sesshoumaru, however, had refused to elevate her status by giving her any semblence of respect. Her importance in his home - as Adani had just pointed out - was already a topic of intense speculation, just as it had been in London. Kagome's quiet rebellion against the agreement that had been in place for almost twenty years annoyed him, and he didn't see the need to change a thing. He wasn't sure what she wanted, anyway - she certainly couldn't articulate anything that would make her happier except the demand that he be kinder to her. He had no idea what that meant. He treated her as he treated everyone.

Someday though, he would have to deal with the miko's demands and the rumors that circulated around him because of her, but not on Holi as they approached the center of the city. People were parting to make way for the palanquins and leaning down to see the occupants. Several men called out in greeting to Darshan, using a variety of nicknames for the popular man. Kagome grinned as she heard him cry out as he was covered in dye. Clouds of green, yellow and red dissipated as Kagome and Sesshoumaru moved behind him.

The taiyoukai sat up to untie the curtains, so they would be shielded from the market. "No," Kagome murmured. "They won't bother you. Don't worry about it. I like to see everything."

He suspected she was stretching the truth of the relative safety of the palanquins, but reclined back again so that at least his face was hidden from view. Kagome, on the other hand, leaned forward, tipping precariously out of the litter. The market was filled with the overpowering scent of spice and bodies - they moved so slowly that Kagome was able to buy ginger root without getting out. The merchants and shoppers were in just as good of a mood as Kagome. Everyone, painted in a rainbow of colors, conversed freely and greeted them as they passed.

No one seemed willing to douse Kagome with any more dye - Adani was not the only one that called her Parvati and a golden goddess. Sesshoumaru had so rarely gone out with Kagome that it surprised him how many names she knew and how many of the people knew hers. Soon, the four men that carried the palanquin were covered in magenta and saffron in her honor, and Kagome laughed all the way through the market.

When they finally reached the port, Adani appeared at their side to help Kagome out of the palanquin. "You're soaked!" Kagome cried, avoiding his dyed hands with a smile. "You wear white on Holi on purpose!"

"What fun is it otherwise?" Adani replied. He turned towards Sesshoumaru, still wearing a pristine kurta. "You, my friend, need to get into the spirit of things!"

"Cover me in dye, and you will be a spirit soon enough, Adaniji," replied the taiyoukai.

"He's just jealous," the farmer said, grinning at Kagome, who nodded in return.

Any further teasing of the taiyoukai was cut short by the prompt arrival of Captain Barlow, who was wiping a hideous puce color from his face. It decorated the doublet and ruff that he wore that was still fashionable back in London, but which had him sweltering in Surat. Sesshoumaru mused that he didn't need to wipe the dye from his skin - it would melt off on its own soon enough. Kagome was taking a step back to protect her golden skin from his dripping forehead. "Damn natives," he was muttering. "Mazumdar, you don't seem like one of them. Can't you do something about this barbaric practice?"

Adani sniffed in annoyance - although Barlow had spoken in English, it was clear what was being said. The taiyoukai started to give him a warning, sidelong glance, but Kagome was already holding the farmer's wrist. He refocused his attention on the Englishman.

"It's an ancient holiday. I do not think a few words from me would help," Sesshoumaru replied.

Barlow frowned at him. "And how did you escape those lunatics?" he asked, clearly not listening.

"I have a reputation for disapproving of mess," the taiyoukai said. He gestured to his companions. "This is Mr. Adani. And Miss Mehta, the servant I mentioned last week. She will be taking our notes. In English, of course."

The naval officer glanced at them. "They're covered in that stuff."

"We could discuss matters on the veranda," suggested the taiyoukai smoothly.

The captain nodded. "Fine, as long as they don't have any of that filthy dye," he said, turning away. "This way."

"I think I already understand the color choice," Adani murmured as they followed, forcing Kagome to smother a laugh as Sesshoumaru glared. They successfully sobered themselves and followed the captain to the back of the salt-stained house. It sat on the banks of the Tapi River, but the breeze was from the ocean a dozen or so miles away. Three enormous English galleons sat in the water like large, predatory gulls, complete with cannons and armed guards patrolling the decks.

Sesshoumaru watched with a strategic eye, picking up immediately on the weaknesses in their security. He wouldn't say a word - his loyalty to England, if it had ever existed, ended when he had left London. He was rich because he knew what an Englishman would want and what a Indian would give. Any information on either side was to be kept to himself for future use.

But Kagome was looking carefully too, he noticed. She had sat down at the place given to her by the servants, but her eyes hadn't moved from the ships at the dock, and her fingers moved to smooth the parchment with shaky uncertainty.

"Miko," he murmured.

Her attention snapped to him. "Sorry. I'm ready," she murmured, opening the bottle of ink and dipping the quill. She looked up at him again. "It's just that..." She frowned and gestured towards the galleons.

Sesshoumaru nodded. "But we cannot interfere with your history," he said.

Kagome shook her head. "That's not what..."

"Mazumdar!" Barlow called from where he stood with Adani. "Get over here. What good is a translator that isn't there to hear us?"

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It was many hours later, just as the sun was slipping beneath the horizon, that the palanquin was moving back up the hill towards Sesshoumaru's house. Adani had gone in a different direction, towards his own home, muttering about the incivility of the English. Kagome was resting on the other side, her knees pulled up to her chest and her eyes fluttering. Her hand, cramped from hours of writing, flexed beside her as the only sign that she wasn't quite asleep.

They watched as the palanquin slowly moved past the temple that sat close to their home. Worshippers flowed through the loose colonnade that wrapped around the front of the stone, bee-hived temple. It was one of the smaller temples - not the largest in Surat, certainly - but busy. The people were going to pay their respects to Parvati, the same goddess whose name Adani invoked to describe Kagome that morning. Sesshoumaru had never been inside during the eight years he'd been in Surat, but Kagome had visited often, particularly on festival days like Holi. Tonight, he knew, she would only visit her bed and pillow.

They turned down the path that led to his bungalow and the sounds of the temple celebrations faded. "Oh good, we're home," Kagome mumbled, as they came to a stop.

"Yes," he replied, swinging his legs out and straightening.

He never saw it coming. But the coolness of the magenta dye running down his face and his kurta was difficult to miss. He blinked and looked up to see a young woman, whose eyes were wide with her mouth hanging open, aghast at what she had just dared to do. Some distance away, a group of girls were huddled together and giggling. Every single one was drenched in color, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other in the fading light.

His hand curled into a fist, but Kagome was there, suddenly awake and bright-eyed, before he could even snarl. "Oh! Magenta! How lovely!" she said, placing herself firmly between him and the young woman, ignoring both of their shocked expressions. She was laughing.

The woman bowed to both, mumbled something unintelligible and ran, followed by her gaggle of girlfriends. Kagome turned, still smiling, to the taiyoukai. He was drenched in dye. "Well, that was a good run," she said, switching to Japanese. "You might be able to go another five years without getting hit."

"She disobeyed my express orders," he murmured, wiping his eye with the back of his hand until he realized his hand was covered in dye as well. He growled deeply in his throat.

"Oh, don't be a grump. I don't think that was one of the servants anyway."

He frowned, trying to recall any of the faces. "Who was it?"

"I'm not sure," Kagome said, grinning. "That's the point!" She pressed a finger against his shoulder and rubbed the magenta dye between her fingers. "I think you have an admirer though. Nicely done stuff. She really got you good too."

"It is not appreciated," he muttered, pulling his thick mane forward and frowning as the dye seeped into the strands.

"You need to loosen up," Kagome replied. Her eyes shifted away from him to some point over his shoulder. "I know that you like India, so you can't just stay here and not... I mean, you need to immerse yourself in..."

She gave up, and her smile slid away. The hairs on the back of Sesshoumaru's neck prickled and stood on end. He turned his head. "I feel it as well."

"Second time today," she murmured, moving around him. The palanquin was gone - the servants could move far faster without passengers - and her view to the temple that sat on the river's edge was clear. She tilted her head and scrutinized the small figures that stood at its entrance.

"You felt this before?"

The corners of her mouth turned down slightly. "When we were with that Barlow guy. It faded quickly, but I felt it coming from the ships," she replied, looking at him again. "Didn't you?"

"No. I believed that you were considering giving warnings about becoming involved with the British."

"I try not to think about that," Kagome murmured. "No, this is definitely not just me worrying about Surat."

Sesshoumaru nodded. "Then we will go and see what it is."

"It's a temple, Sesshoumaru," she said. Her voice lowered. "And I think we know what it is. On Holi too!"

"All the more reason to make certain it is not what we think it is," he replied. He arched an eyebrow and glanced at her. "Is that not the purpose of Holi? To cleanse the world of demons?"

She gave him a look of surprise. "Maybe you haven't been ignoring everything," she said. She rubbed at the bridge of her nose for a moment and then gave a slight nod. "Alright then, let's go. Shouldn't we have weapons or something?"

"It is a temple," he echoed back to her.

"Right. Bad idea. Let's just look then, okay?"

They made their way into the crowd that was largely spilling out of the temple, removed their shoes at the base of the stairs and then pressed against the tide. A Brahmin stood at the entrance, his brow creasing when he spotted the two of them mounting the steps. Kagome bowed to the holy man, but pushed on, leading Sesshoumaru inside. "I've told him that you would probably never come here," she whispered as they entered a hall. From above their heads, the chiseled faces of gods looked down on them as they danced on the walls around their own miniature temples carved into the stone.

The room was emptying quickly, although oil lamps lit up the crevices that held the most important gods and goddesses. Kagome saw Ganesha and Shiva on the north wall - Parvati's son and her husband, respectively. Ganesha's elephant head seemed to wag at them as they passed on, weaving through the columns to the other, darker end of the hall. Kagome walked close to the taiyoukai, her arm brushing his every once in awhile. Despite the heat, she was shaking.

"It might be nothing," she murmured, her voice high.

"It might be everything," he replied. "The feeling has not faded from my senses."

She didn't say anything for a moment. "No. Not from mine either." They paused at the end of the hall and looked out into another pavilion with several columned pathways shooting away, creating a labyrinthine courtyard. Although the door was open, it was clear that they were not supposed to be here without an invitation. "Maybe we should..."

"We will search in different directions and meet at the inner sanctum," he said, gesturing to the dark door on the other end of the corridor.

"We're definitely not allowed in there," she whispered, but Sesshoumaru was already turning the left and disappearing into the shadows. Kagome let out a soft sigh and, checking to make sure no one was paying attention, moved to the right.

There were no lamps lit in here - windows stood yards apart, but dusk was upon them and the remaining light retreated from the temple. The faces of deities and demons once again watched her as she walked on the stone. Her feet were bare and silent, and she moved with measured paces. She tried to keep her hand on the wall, to avoid taking a wrong turn and getting lost. For the first time in many years, she thought longingly of modern conveniences - a flashlight would give her the security to settle her jumping stomach. A stun-gun would work too.

The stone beneath her fingers dipped away, and she stood in the window, letting her eyes adjust for a moment. Just as she realized that she was framed in light - advertising her exact location - she heard a soft, feminine breath.

Her heartbeat skittered unevenly as she retreated to the shadow, feeling for the wall behind her. A soft cry answered her rapid movement, and Kagome pressed herself back against the rock, searching the corridor for movement. The light from the window, which had been so unhelpfully dark to her unadjusted eyes a minute ago, now spilled into everything, obscuring her vision. She moved to the side, sliding along the wall, to get away from it.

There. She froze opposite of a niche in the wall holding another statue of Ganesha. The elephant-headed god was not alone - at his feet, two figures were intertwined and moving. She had been so close to them a few moments ago. They had to know that she was here. What was going on?

Kagome sucked in a sharp breath upon her realization, and blood flowed to her cheeks. Catching a couple in the middle of their tryst was not exactly what she expected to find - especially not in a temple. How humiliating for all of them. She wanted to say that she wouldn't tell the priests, or at least that she was sorry for nearly stumbling into them. They must have thought they were safe here, of all places. Perhaps, she decided, she wouldn't say anything at all. It was awkward enough being here for so many stunned seconds.

Just as she was about to turn, a hand stretched out over her partner's shoulder and grasped at the air. Kagome would have thought little of it amid the embarrassing circumstances, but then there came another cry. It sent a shiver of fear down her spine, and the miko almost fainted from the speed at which the blood drained from her face.

She was eighty-four years old. This was far too familiar at this point in her life.

She spun on the ball of her foot. "Hey!" she cried, digging her nails into the man's shoulder and pulling. He fell back with relative ease, letting a girl of about sixteen collapse onto the ground. "What do you think you're doing?"

Her eyes swept over his imperious expression - the firm set of his mouth in the midst of a blond beard and the icy blue eyes that glared down at her. English. She switched languages easily, shoving him away from the girl, who was now sobbing into her loosened sari. "What do you think you're doing?" she repeated in the clipped London accent she had thought she had lost.

He was finally pushing back - not with his hands, but the shoulder she had pressed her hand against so firmly. Kagome felt his surprising strength. "You can be next then," he murmured in a slow, thick voice.

"Pig!" The slap she gave him rang through the columns. He barely flinched, but pulled away swiftly, melting into the shadows before Kagome could blink. She recoiled and fell to the floor beside the girl before doing what she knew she should have done immediately. "Sesshoumaru!"

The taiyoukai appeared after a few moments that stretched like eons. "What happened?"

Kagome got to her feet and coaxed the girl to do the same, keeping her attention on the scared creature at her side. The teenager was disheveled, bruised and in desperate need of rest. She was desperately trying to wrap her sari back around her body, but her shaking hands kept dropping the heavy cloth. "She was attacked by one of the English sailors. He's somewhere around here," she replied, her voice wavering, although it was unclear if it was anger or fear.

Sesshoumaru paused and glanced around the dark corridor. "He is gone."

"We should get her home. Let's forget about this. We can come back later." She looked up at his figure in the dark - the white kurta seemed to glow, even with so little light.

He moved closer so that she could see him more clearly. "Alright."

There was a slight pause, and then Kagome straightened and took a deep breath. "Please run," she whispered in Hindi to the girl. She stared back. "I'm sorry, but run. Find the priests and tell them to get everyone out. Please!"

The girl stumbled out, nearly tripping over the end of her sari. Sesshoumaru frowned but didn't move. "Kagome, what are you doing?"

Her eyes were fixed on the taiyoukai's face. "Where is Sesshoumaru?" she asked, her voice tremulous.

"I am Sesshoumaru," he replied as his brow creased.

"No. No, you aren't," Kagome said. "Sesshoumaru would have come the second he heard me in trouble."

"I did not hear you until you called for me."

She shook her head. "I could probably count on one hand the number of times in the last twenty years that Sesshoumaru has called me by name." Her hands curled into fists. "And he would have called me a 'foolish girl' or something like that as soon as I questioned his identity. You're not him."

"You are being foolish now," he said. "A scared, foolish girl."

"Sesshoumaru would never abandon his hunt for those thieves, even if a girl was hurt or scared."

"Compassion is not acceptable?"

"Not from him," Kagome affirmed, backing up. He followed, step for step. "But most importantly..."

An eyebrow arched. "Yes?"

"You're clean. You don't have any Holi dye on you."

He stilled as his eyes drifted down to his white kurta, untouched by the magenta dye that had been tossed all over the real Sesshoumaru. When he looked at her again, a sloppy grin spread across his lips that was so foreign on the familiar face that she almost forgot to breathe. He opened his mouth and an alien voice came from the taiyoukai's throat - slow and thick, like the Englishman's. "You're a clever one." He took one step towards her. "And pretty."

"Sesshoumaru!" she yelled, letting the stone corridors ring with her voice.

The imposter lunged, but a figure - dressed in white and drenched in magenta - intercepted him, slamming him into the wall opposite. "There are two of them!" the taiyoukai growled. "They are shape-shifters!"

"I think I got that part down!" she yelled, backing up. "Where's the other one?"

"It fled when you called for me again. It has not left," he answered, his voice straining as he continued to press the shape-shifter into the wall. His claws were closing around its throat.

The beast in Sesshoumaru's grasp struggled for only a moment before it showed them exactly how dangerous it was. The features of the taiyoukai slid and reformed in an instant, shifting back to the figure of the blond Englishman. Shorter and stockier in the blink of an eye, the shape-shifter threw Sesshoumaru off balance as he was shouldered in the chest.

Kagome cried out as the taiyoukai fell backwards. "What do you want me to do?"

"Stay out of the way, miko," Sesshoumaru snarled, getting to his feet again.

The words were barely out of his mouth before the two went at one another, grappling for a hold in the middle of the corridor. Kagome turned around, searching with her eyes and hands for something - anything - that could be used as a weapon. Never mind that she hadn't brought one. She hadn't prepared at all for this, she realized as she felt around the dark corner. She didn't have any kind of weapon, nor had she practiced with one in years. Her bow string at home was brittle and would have broken, even if she had had the presence of mind to bring it. She didn't know how to use a knife, or a sword - all of which she lacked. The struggle behind her was frenetic - she wouldn't dare reaching out with a purifying touch, for fear of harming Sesshoumaru instead.

A loud cry ripped through the air, and she turned to see the Englishman holding his arm. Blood dripped down from between his fingers and splattered on the floor. Sesshoumaru was tensed, his bloody claws flexing in preparation. Kagome was about to congratulate him when another, slimmer figure appeared in the window. "Behind you!" she cried.

Sesshoumaru half-turned, and the Englishman crashed into him, sending both tumbling through the window and down to the ground outside. The second figure, having neatly side-stepped the two males, stepped off the ledge. "Well, while my dear brother takes care of your taiyoukai, we girls can have a little chat." Her fingers were moving with nervous speed at her sides, catching the soft light on her long, pale fingers. She was wrapped in a cotton sari that was decorated with Holi dye too - Kagome knew that she could have been any one of the women she had passed, even talked to, on the street that morning.

Kagome had learned a long time ago what to do when faced with an intelligent predator - she immediately pivoted and started running towards the doorway. In a moment, she felt claws scratching her scalp, and she twisted. Her dupatta tightened around her neck, and Kagome choked, her hands flying up to free herself. The cotton slid away and she continued to flee, bare-headed and bleeding from where the demoness's claws had touched her. She heard no footsteps but her own, but she could feel the youkai trailing behind her.

Just as she reached the doorway to the front entrance, she felt something hit her between the shoulder blades. She flew forward, landing face-down on the stone floor. Her mouth flooded with blood as she bit down on the inside of her cheek. "Why run?" asked the demoness from behind her. Her sleek voice was playful. "You will answer my questions before I kill you."

Kagome dragged herself to her feet, clutching with one hand at her jaw - blood flowed over her lip and down her chin. "I don't know anything," she mumbled around her swelling lip. She stumbled towards the entrance, not looking at the shape-shifter behind her.

"You'll remember. There must all kinds of interesting information in that pretty little head of yours."

The miko felt, rather than heard, the demoness coming. She sprang forward and grabbed the lit oil lamp on the ledge in front of her, swinging around as the shape-shifter loomed. The hot oil hissed as it hit her skin, and the demoness screamed.

Kagome let the clay lamp shatter on the floor and ran again, rushing past the few shocked worshippers hovering at the top of the steps. Careening down the stairs, she rounded the corner and tried to control her breathing. It had been a long time since she had been in so much pain and so winded, but she had to reach Sesshoumaru.

People were everywhere - drawn by the noise, no doubt. She wove through them, pushing off any attempt to stop or help her. The sounds of tumbling rock and the cries of pained demons rang through the warm air. "Sesshoumaru!" she yelled, breaking through the ring of spectators.

The taiyoukai and shape-shifter were circling one another next to the crumbling foundation of the temple, where both of them had clearly been subject of a vicious beating. Both of them were bruised and bleeding now - Kagome couldn't tell the difference between the magenta dye and Sesshoumaru's blood anymore. The torches and lamps carried by the Holi celebrants made them visible, but she couldn't see the extent of the damage to either one.

She grabbed a torch from the nearest man, who relinquished it easily in surprise. The demoness could be anywhere, she knew - any one of these people. But at the moment, she could only worry about Sesshoumaru. Kagome approached the pair and drew all attention, including that of the blond demon.

The entire crowd drew in a deep breath as the shape-shifter immediately mimicked the taiyoukai - down to every drop of dye that was on his kurta - and threw his body against Sesshoumaru's. They tumbled onto the grass and rolled, both digging at the other with their claws. When they separated again, it was impossible to tell which one was the friend and which was the foe.

"Watch yourself, miko!" the one on the left growled.

Kagome swung around to find the demoness, still dripping with hot oil, stalking towards her. Kagome waved the torch. "Don't come close or I'll burn you again." She lifted her free hand and the tips of her fingers began to glow. "One way or the other."

The shape-shifter bared her pointed teeth - her thin face and small lips could barely hold them all. "You will not live past this night, little priestess."

"You'd be surprised at how often I hear that," she said, trying to ignore the crunch of body against stone that she could hear behind her.

"At least you'll be without the taiyoukai's protection soon enough," the demoness said, her lip quirking.

Kagome turned at that, without a thought. Sesshoumaru held the blond Englishman once again against the stone. "Miko!" he snarled, admonishing her for her gullibility with just one word.

The knife was at her throat before she could even flinch. "Drop the torch. And if you try to purify me, I will cut your throat before joining my brother to slaughter your taiyoukai," she murmured. "I'll do that anyway, of course. But at least you can put it off for a few minutes. Now, you will answer my questions."

Before Kagome could hear the question though, something small flew through the air and hit the demoness square on the forehead, above her eye. "You will leave, demon!" yelled an man clothed in white at the center of the gathered crowd. It was a Brahmin - the oldest priest of the temple. Kagome had only seen him once before tonight - he was old, sick and revered beyond almost any other man in Surat. The priests must have taken the assaulted girl at her word and brought out everyone. He wasn't looking particularly old or sick now, however - he was already rolling another, larger stone between his fingers.

The crowd, silent and still until now, roared to life - torches waved, stones thrown and threats came from every direction. A Hindu's non-violence did not extend to demons that had escaped the exorcising Holi bonfire. They pressed in closer, tightening the perimeter and sealing the gaps between them.

The shape-shifter loosened her hold for a moment - just the briefest of seconds - but Kagome knew it was her chance. She grabbed the arm holding the knife and twisted it away, elbowing the demoness at the base of her breastbone for good measure. The knife flew out of her hand and was nabbed by an onlooker, who stabbed at the air to punctuate his curses.

"Sister!"

Sesshoumaru pushed the brother into the wall once more and came to Kagome's side, pulling her away before the demoness could recover. Picking up the torch, still smouldering on the grass, the taiyoukai swung it upwards, catching the shape-shifter's chin and sending her flying backwards with a sickening crack of her jaw and a shower of embers.

"Sister!" the blond demon cried again. He stumbled over to her and gathered her into his arms before leaping twenty feet straight up, back through the window of the temple and disappearing into its blackness.

Kagome looked up at the taiyoukai, who still held her by the arm. His blood was dripping down his face from what looked to be a broken nose. She could still taste the coppery liquid in her own mouth. "Do you want to go after them?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "No. I...." He paused, and his jaw tightened for a moment. "I believe we can leave them for now. They are too injured to return."

Noticing the tilt to his stance, she pressed her free hand against his side and was rewarded with a pained hiss through his teeth. "Who cares about them? You're too injured as well," she said. "I think your ribs are broken. Come on, you need to lie down." She tried to put her arm around his waist for support, but was immediately rebuffed. "You need help."

"I do not need anything," he said as he slowly lifted his hand from her arm. His breath shook as he moved across the clearing and towards the crowds.

The mass of people, abuzz with gossip and conjecture, parted in front of them. Sesshoumaru ignored them all, batting away those that tried to reach out to him. Kagome bowed to the Brahmin, murmuring a thanks and a promise to repay him for the damage to the temple, before hurrying after the taiyoukai.

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When he finally got inside, he found a few of the older servants waiting. The rest were outside with the crowd, giving people water and making sure no strangers got indoors. They were being ruthless in their refusals to all walks of life - even he had had a difficult time getting past them, after the eight years he had been coming regularly to the house.  "They're here, I assume?" he asked.

One of the women nodded. "Yes, Shri Adani. But they won't allow anyone in to see them."

He flashed his customary grin and held up the package that he had so recently acquired himself. "Mehtaji will want to see me. Promise," he said as he walked past them and deeper into the bungalow, ignoring their frowns.

Adani soon could hear the strange language that his friends sometimes spoke rising and falling from the room at the end of the hall, and then Kagome appeared in the doorway to Sesshoumaru's study with her dupatta drawn across her face. Her eyes - the only visible part of her face - were shadowed and tired. "Adaniji, you shouldn't be here," she murmured.

"So I've been told," he replied, gesturing over his shoulder. "But I couldn't avoid seeing my good friends who have, apparently, become gods."

She sagged against the door frame. "Are they still out there?"

"More of them, I believe." He came towards her and motioned towards her makeshift veil. "They want to worship at your doorstep, but they are respecting the privacy of the golden Parvati and her champion. You don't have to hide your face, Mehtaji."

"Oh, this isn't for them," she said. "I just didn't want to see my own reflection." She lifted her hand and untied the dupatta, exposing a savage bruise of red and purple that spanned from her cheekbone to chin.

"Mehtaji," Adani cried. He moved as if to touch her and then thought better of it, taking two steps back. "I was told that only Mazumdar was injured."

"I fell inside the temple," Kagome said, turning her face away and pinning the dupatta back across her face. "It looks worse than it is."

"And what about him? May I see him?"

She let out a soft laugh. "Well, I don't suppose I could dissuade you after you got this far."

She turned and led him through the study and into the dark room that served as Sesshoumaru's bedroom. Bandages, both clean and bloodied, were piled around the bed, and the air was full of the strong scent of medicinal herbs that Kagome had been mixing herself. She went back to her mortar and pestle as soon as she entered, grinding it with a practiced hand. Adani stood at the foot of the bed and looked at the patient.

Sesshoumaru glared back. His body was a patchwork of bruises - some so bad that they had split the skin. Adani knew that he could only see the least of it - far more of his body was covered in the bandages, and the linens were pulled up to his waist. Kagome pushed aside the mosquito netting and applied a thin layer of clear gel as Sesshoumaru spoke. "What are you doing here, Adaniji? I hope you are not like one of the idiots that has spent the night on my front steps."

"I have known you too long to believe that you are a god, Mazumdarji," the farmer said with a small smile. "Mehtaji, on the other hand..."

"Enough. State your purpose," Sesshoumaru said.

"To see if my friends were alive. You took on two demons last night, and they say you left bleeding. Which, I can see, was true."

Kagome stood and dipped a cloth into some warm water. "We're fine, Adaniji. We were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and were lucky to escape with our lives. It's that simple."

"You glowed, Mehtaji."

She paused in her movements for just a moment before wringing out the cloth. "You know I'm not actually Parvati, Adaniji," she murmured, leaning over and sponging away the dried blood on Sesshoumaru's knuckles, all of which were torn open.

"Of course," admitted the farmer.

"And you know that we're not from here," Kagome continued. "What they saw last night... it's part of our world."

"Young women from your land often glow?" Adani asked, his eyebrow disappearing under his hair.

"Some," Sesshoumaru replied, before Kagome could say another word. "But these people will know nothing of that. We will attribute last night to Parvati alone - the Parvati that sits in the temple across the street from this house. There is no Parvati here. You will tell them. We are in no condition to do so."

"I am not certain they will believe it."

"You can sell anything, Adaniji," Kagome said.

They were both looking at him with a quiet determination that told the farmer that they had spoken about this at length before he arrived. He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Mehtaji, it may be normal where you are from, but no one glows in Surat. Look at how they worship you." He bent down and untied the package he had been carrying. Indigo silk spilled across the foot of the bed.

Kagome stood straight. "That's the finest sari I've ever seen," she murmured, her eyes opening wide with interest. She quickly dried her hands and reached out for the silk. Her fingers traced the golden embroidery with care. "It must have been incredibly expensive. Adaniji, did you...?"

"No, although if I had known the love you obviously held for such things, I would have happily provided you with one," the farmer said. "But no, it was not me. It was Desai."

"Desai?" Sesshoumaru sat up, closing his eyes briefly because of the pain. "The rich pig who is infamous for refusing to give an ascetic a crust of bread?"

"He's outside now, praying on your steps."

Kagome sighed. "Maybe he's right," she murmured. Her eyes were still on the sari. "We may need to leave."

"Leave?" Adani frowned and moved to her side, taking her hand in his. "Mehtaji, you can't leave."

She smiled up at him. "You're learning more English than you let on. You'll be fine."

"I wasn't talking about that..."

"We are not leaving," Sesshoumaru broke in. He focused on the blushing girl, who was slowly extricating herself from Adani's grasp, and switched to Japanese. "I will not heal for some time, and we do not know if the shape-shifters have left Surat. We cannot leave until we know that they have done so."

"Are you so worried for Surat?" she answered in kind.

"No," he replied with a frown, "but those demons are more powerful than I originally surmised. We must act with more vigilance than we have in the past."

Kagome nodded and switched back to Hindi. "Then we won't leave," she said, looking towards a relieved farmer. "But, Adaniji, you must tell those people that I am not Parvati. Mazumdarji is not Shivaji."

"I suddenly have renewed faith in my abilities to convince them," Adani replied with a smile. He looked towards the sari that still rested at the foot of the bed. "And the gifts?"

"Return them all," Sesshoumaru said.

Kagome's face fell. "Oh." She leaned forward and gathered the expensive silk, folding it over her arm with reverence. "Of course. We can't keep it. Any of it, I mean. I'll wrap it up again."

As she moved to the other room, Adani frowned at Sesshoumaru, who glared in return. "You know, I heard what she did," the farmer whispered, his tone fierce and challenging. "You could give more credit to her for trying to fight those demons. A token of gratitude, perhaps?"

"She was a fool for trying to fight," the taiyoukai replied. "She has no training."

"And yet, you won. Was it entirely because of you, Mazumdarji?"

Sesshoumaru scowled. "You have already said that the gossips believe she is my mistress. Dressing her in such silk would only confirm that."

"I don't think the old women's tongues could wag any more than they already are," Adani replied.

The dog demon looked into his study where Kagome stood over the fine sari, wrapping it with painstaking love. He did need to address Kagome's feelings of inferiority in the household, he remembered with chagrin. This might solve her dour attitude about her place in his house, and Adani would never give him rest about it if he didn't agree. With an inward sigh, he pushed aside the sheets and stood up, grimacing as his wounds stretched underneath his bandages.

Kagome's head snapped up at the movement. "You shouldn't be up," she scolded, leaving the sari on his desk and coming forward to push him back into bed. "You need to rest."

"I am only retrieving one thing," he muttered, brushing her aside. He went to his desk and opened the small chest that sat on top of it, pulling out a bag of golden coins. He tossed it to Adani. "I expect that is more than enough."

"Barely, actually," Adani replied, weighing the bag in his hand. He shrugged at Sesshoumaru's frown. "Mehtaji wasn't lying when she said they were expensive."

The miko looked between the two men. "What... Are you buying the sari?" she asked, her voice laced with both shock and suspicion.

"Mazumdarji's idea," Adani said with a small smile.

Kagome turned to the taiyoukai. "Sesshoumaru," she breathed, using his first name in a rush of warmth. "You don't have to. It's too expensive."

He scowled over her head at the farmer, who was grinning madly. "My secretary can spend her salary however she wishes."

"Your what?"

The dog demon had the sudden urge to use his injuries to get back to bed and ignore the gleeful farmer and the dewy-eyed miko. Teasing from Adani and tears from Kagome - that was exactly why he didn't want to do this, he recalled. "It doesn't change a thing," he said aloud. "You will still attend to your tasks. Perhaps giving you an educated place in my household will end the ceaseless chatter that you are my mistress. If they must draw incorrect conclusions about our relationship, I would prefer that it didn't involve sharing a bed with you."

She smiled. "That's sweet," she said. "Except for the part where you insulted me. But still, thank you."

It was confirmation that he was ill that she was able to get close to him so fast, because he found himself the subject of a chaste kiss on his jawline through the cloth of her dupatta. He frowned down at her. "It does not change anything," he reiterated.

"I know. Just showing my gratitude," Kagome said, beaming. She stepped back again and waved him back towards the bedroom. "Go on. You're sick. Get back in bed and rest."

"This is your task now," Sesshoumaru muttered, passing by Adani.

"One I take with joy, Mazumdarji." He grinned at Kagome and offered her his hand. "Would you like to listen to my brilliant speech from inside the doorway? No one will know the gifted secretary of Mazumdar is there."

Kagome slid her fingers over his palm. "I would like that," she replied. She looked back at the taiyoukai as Adani took her away. "I'll be back to take care of you in a few minutes."

Sesshoumaru watched them leave and leaned back against the pillows, wondering what a moment of weakness may have started.

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A/N: My sources (i.e. Ijin) tell me that Shri/Shrimata are Indian titles for Mr./Mrs. Kumari is Miss. The suffix of -ji is like the Japanese -san. Just in case you wondered! :)

Holi is a holiday in India where everyone gets to throw colored dye at each other. Everyone acts pretty outrageously, and the saying is, "Don't be offended - it's Holi!" I've always loved the idea of a day where you can cover people in paint with no consequences. Of course, the people that you like get pretty colors like yellow, magenta and red. People that you don't like get brown and other drab colors. Gold and silver are reserved for those that you really like, but because it's expensive, only rich people get to express that much affection. Hence, Kagome is covered in gold by the flirt, Darshan Adani. Kagome was giving him a hard time, saying that Adani would not cover Sesshoumaru in dye, as it's done between male friends too. Mean little minx. LoL.

Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers. Tuck in to a pumpkin pie and have a fabulous long weekend. :)