InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Charade ❯ Unraveling ( Chapter 8 )

Charade - Chapter Eight: THE THREAD UNRAVELS - -      Sango’s eyes were practically burning him alive.  Miroku tried his best to ignore her gaze.      Kitosumo was staring at him incredulously.  “Married?” he said.  “What the hell for?”      “But…ain’t you a monk?” Aide Tonner squinted at him.  “I thought you guys were s’posed to be…er… whatcha call it… celibate?”    & nbsp; “Only celibate monks,” said Miroku seriously.      Kitosumo snorted.  Sango’s death glare didn’t waver.      “She sure doesn’t seem ta like you,” Aide Tonner said.      “Oh that…?  She’s just mad because I’m not paying enough attention to her.”  Miroku smiled brightly and wrapped an arm around Sango’s waist.  “She’s possessive like that.”      “Ah.”  Tonner nodded knowingly.      “You…are…so…dead,” Sango whispered into his ear.      “Yes, darling, I know.”       Better a dead Miroku than a dead Sango. - -      Kagome’s eyes opened slowly.  The alleyway was less dim than it had been last night… She opened her eyes fully now.  It was morning?  Judging from her cold body temperature and lack of pillow, she realized that Inuyasha was gone.      Too sleepy to overreact, she yawned and stretched, hoping he’d come back with some breakfast.  “It’s not like he’s required to recite to me where it is he’s going and who he’s going to meet,” she said to herself amusedly.      “True enough!” Yoshida chirped.      Kagome jumped.  “Yoshida-san, you’re awake?  I didn’t realize—”      He waved a hand.  “No worries, young lady, I know what it’s like to be in love and missing that ‘special someone’ if they’re gone for even a minute.”      “In love?”  She colored a bit.  “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re not—”      “You young’uns forget that we old folk were once as young and in love as you were.  You think that we don’t remember what it’s like, that the passion of love must surely fade with vitality and hair color.  But it doesn’t.”      “No sir, of course not, but—”      “Of course, if one used the Shikon no Tama, that little problem could be resolved.  Wouldn’t that be a feat?  An old man in the body of a youngster?  Hm, I must remember that.  Interesting experiment—sure would teach today’s youth a lesson.”      “I beg your pardon?”      “I said, it sure would teach—”      “No, no, about the problem being resolved!”  She rose from her warm corner and scurried over to crouch beside the Prime Minister, who was cackling to himself.  “Are you saying that the Shikon no Tama gives eternal life?”      “It gives whatever the devil you want it to!” he chuckled.  “I think the funniest thing would be if a little child found it and wished on it.  Oh, how the brilliantly evil would scream at the thought of the jewel granting the wish of candy, or a new toy, or love.  It makes me quiver with amusement.”      “Quite.  But, sir, doesn’t that make the jewel that much more dangerous?”      “Naturally.”      Kagome sat back on her heels and thought.  Well.  That was one wish she hadn’t thought of.  That would certainly be incentive for Naraku to get the jewel.  Is this why Inuyasha was so worried?  Or was there another, more serious reason?      It looked as if she’d gotten into more trouble than she’d bargained for. - -       “Well.  I suppose my congratulations are in order, then,” Dr. Kitosumo said, bowing.       Miroku bowed back and surreptitiously stepped on Sango’s foot.  She gave the slightest of bows, glowering at Miroku the whole time.      When he straightened, Kitosumo turned to address Sango.  “I presume you’ll be joining us again, Miss Sango?”      “Eh?”  She unconsciously moved closer to Miroku.  “Joining you?”      “As a nurse.  We are in desperate need, and you were—are—one of our best.  Your married status doesn’t change a thing.”      “My married—?  Oh!  Oh.  Right.  Thank you, I’m glad to hear that.  I… I haven’t completely decided whether I’m going to return to nursing… or not…”  She exchanged and glance with Miroku and then hurriedly said, “My husband and I haven’t finished discussing the topic yet.”      A smile from Miroku told her she’d said the right thing.       “I understand completely, Miss Sango, but in light of our present circumstances, I must beg that you and your husband make a decision here and now,” Kitosumo said, “for we have many, many wounded and need you to care for them.”      Sango glanced around the room.  “They look…fine to me,” she hissed.      His facial expression didn’t change.  “This isn’t our tent, Miss Sango.  Ours is farther down the way—we were merely inspecting this one.”      “Ah, of course.  Well, my husband, what do you say?  Do you think it’s safe for me to return to nursing?”      “Only if I am allowed to remain by your side,” he said gravely, slipping an arm about her waist.      “Done.”  Kitosumo bowed.  “I’ll show you the way.” - -      “You still have the ring, right?” Kagome asked, searching Yoshida’s hands.      “As if I could ever lose it.”  He waved it in her face.      “I’m more afraid of it being stolen than you losing it.”      “Thank you, young lady, but I am extremely careful.  I’ve had years of practice, you know.”      “Perhaps you should let me hold on to it?  No one would suspect me…”      He gave her a look.  “Are you just trying to get your hands on it?”      Kagome rolled her eyes.  “Who wouldn’t?  But I assure you, I have no petty ambitions of my own.”      “Petty?  You could wish for the end of the war.  You could wish for world peace.  You could wish to make that handsome hanyou your lover.  You cou—”      “All right, I get the idea!” Kagome interrupted forcefully, unable to stop the blush that spread across her cheeks.  “I’m not planning on using that thing for my own devices, I assure you.  I was just offering to keep it safe.”      Yoshida gave her a calculating look.  She swallowed but kept her features schooled.  How exactly was an innocent person supposed to look?  What if she only looked guilty?  She really did mean best… but then, maybe her offer had been a little insulting.  She’d basically insinuated that she was better suited to protect the jewel than he, who had already been protecting it for years and years.      “I believe you, young lady,” he finally said, patting her hand.  “And you’re a sweet girl for wanting to help.  But let me just tell you right now—throw all your sweetness and helpfulness aside and become a selfish, gold-digging bitch.”      “Wha—?”      “Because if you don’t, some rascal is gonna come along and take advantage of you.  You’ll be duped into doing his dirty work while thinking you’re helping your country.”      Kagome was a little bit offended.  She’d like to think she was more intelligent than that.  “I—”      “You listen to me, Miss.  Any number of years ago—perhaps a number of months ago—your whole life was centered around finding a husband, am I right?”      “No,” said Kagome petulantly.  “I was training to be a nurse.”      “Without any plans to ever marry?”      “Well—I wanted to eventually, I guess.  But at the time—”      “At the time, any man would jump at the idea of marrying a girl like you.  And you would be safe to assume that if they were polite, kind young men who seemed to geninuely like you, they would make good husbands.  You listen to me, girl: if you find a nice young man who you fancy yourself in love with right now… I’m warning you.  Things aren’t always what they seem.”      Is he… is he talking about Inuyasha?  Surely not!  “I’m not sure I follow you.”      “Let me put it bluntly: if he’s in love with you, he’s using you.”      She laughed.  “Sir, that seems a little harsh.  Are you insinuating that everyone has their own agenda?  That there are no good people yet?”      “This is war.  This country is divided between pacifists and those who support the war; and those who support the me, and those who would rather put an emperor back in power.  My daughter worked underground, and her partner, whom she was engaged to, turned out to be a Russian spy.”      “Oh—!”  Kagome’s hand flew to her mouth.  “How horrible.”      “That’s not he worst of it.”      She waited.      “While she thought she’d been working for the Japanese underground—she was really aiding the Russians in her work.”      Kagome gaped at him.  “But—is that possible?  I mean, how could she not notice—?”      “She was just a courier.  She was never present at any meetings, just took a few sporadic assignments so she could… aid… her country.”  His mouth tightened.      Kagome’s heart was beating much too fast, she was sure.  Inuyasha… my first impression was that he was in the Black Mask.  How do I know he isn’t?  All I saw was a group of radical demons.  They could be working for Naraku—hell, they could even be working for the Russians!  “Are… are you talking about Inu— er, Hanyou?”      He sighed.  “No, I wasn’t.  Particularly.”      “But you think he might be untrustworthy?”      “I didn’t say that.  I think you can rely on him.  He’s definitely not working for Naraku, if that’s what you’re worried about.  Didn’t you tell me that you’d been attacked?  And what about that snake bite on your neck?”      “Perhaps we’re being tracked by the good guys.  Maybe he’s really the bad guy around here.”      “I don’t know…”  He rubbed his face wearily.  “I can’t tell you anything for certain, but I think you can trust him.  But please, try and suppress those feelings of yours.  Even if he is on the right side, falling in love in the middle of a war is never a good idea.”      “Eh—?”  Dammit, she was blushing again!  “Don’t worry; I have no feelings for him whatsoever.”      “Ah.”  He sounded amused.  “Glad to hear it.”      She looked down.  Okay, so she’d stretched the truth a bit.  She in no way considered herself in love with him; but who wouldn’t be attracted to Inuyasha?  He was patriotic, protective, handsome…      She frowned.  Patriotic, yes.  But to which side?  What if her initial impression of him was correct?      “What’s that face for?” said the man of her thoughts, popping into the alleyway like an apparition.      “I-Inuyasha!” she stammered, falling backwards.  “Where did you come from?!”      “Hell.  Had a jolly visit there,” he said sarcastically, sauntering over to Yoshida.  “Still alive, old man?”      “Inuy—” Kagome blustered.      “Name,” he hissed.  “You don’t know who could be listening!”      “Whatever—you need to learn some manners.”      “And how exactly are manners gonna help me in this war?”  He gave her a Look before turning back to the Prime Minister.  “Well?”      “I’m fine.  What now?  I’m guessing I won’t be allowed to put so much as a toe back on my estate.”      “Nope.  Too dangerous.  We’ll be protecting you from now on.”      “Who’s ‘we’?”      “The Channel.”  From his tone of voice, he might as well have said “Duh.”      “How do I know you’re really from the channel?” Yoshida demanded, rather wearily.      “A little late to be thinking about loyalties, isn’t it?  And you’ve been traveling with me since last night.  If I really wanted to kill you, don’t you think I would’ve done so by now?”      “I won’t claim to understand the twisted workings of criminals minds.”      Kagome saw Inuyasha’s eyes flash dangerous, but he said nothing as he rose to his feet.  “Look, old man, if you want protection, here it is.  If you want us to leave you here so you can try and hike your way back to your palace… your funeral.”      Yoshida studied him for a moment.  “I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”      “Nope,” said Inuyasha unsympathetically.  “Let’s go.  We have many, many miles left before there’s a relatively safe area.”      Kagome was silent, watching Inuyasha.  By first impressions alone, she would have pegged him as more of a terrorist guy.  Black Mask material.  She knew that appearances were deceiving, but there was something to be said for intuition.      Just… what the hell was her intuition trying to tell her?      “Oi.”      “Eh?”  She snapped out of her daze.      His golden eyes were appraising, as if he knew what she was thinking.  “You coming along too, wench?”      She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his.  Please, just tell me everything’s all right.  I don’t want any more deception, I don’t’ want to have to try and discern people’s character—I just want everything to be… to be…  “Yeah.  I’m coming.”      “Good.”  He turned and yanked Yoshida to his feet.  “Let’s get a move on.  And Kagome?” He turned to face her.      Her heart skipped a beat.  “Y-yes?”       He said my name again!      “Try not to dawdle so much.  We really can’t waste time on your laziness.”      Her lips parted, but nothing came out.      He turned again and strolled out of the alleyway into plain sight.  The main thoroughway of the town was unusually crowded for this early in the morning—but sunny days were rare, and people would nauturally take advantage of the fine weather.      A lucky break for them.  A lone man and a young woman and her grandfather were less conspicuous in a crowd.      Yoshida offered his arm to Kagome, giving them the pretense of a grandfather/granddaughter relationship.  She sucked in a breath and took his arm.      That jerk! she thought, glaring at Inuyasha’s back. Who does he think he is, pompously strutting around, giving orders like that?      She and Yoshida emerged from the alleyway.  There was no one in sight.  No one.  Looks like this town didn’t rise with the sun.      Inuyasha walked ahead of them, conscientiously not looking backwards.  But Kagome could see his ears twitching every so often.  Probably to pick up our footsteps, make sure we’re still with him.      “Ah, love,” Yoshida murmured.       Love?  Between him and his ego, maybe.       She glowered at his back.  At least she knew now that the Prime Minister of her country was senile; warning her against men with questionable loyalties and then sighing over young love.      “Die, you insensitive fool,” she muttered at Inuyasha’s back.      Her gaze dropped to the ground, so she didn’t see the slight hesitation in Inuyasha’s step, nor the half-turn he made to look at her.  And she completely missed the confused, vulnerable look on his face. - -      “Miroku.”       “Hmm?”  His hand rested on the small of her back, the same position it had been in since they’d begun to follow Dr. Kitosumo and his aide down the road.  That had been more than half an hour ago.      “Do you think we’re being duped?” she whispered, tilting her head so that she was speaking directly in his ear.  “This is an awful long time to be walking to an impromptu field hospital ‘just down the way.’”      “Perhaps they’re taking the backroads,” he whispered back.  “The last we knew, the Russians army was only ten or so miles behind us.  They could even have overtaken that tent with jyaki by now.”      “Yes, about that,” she said, frowning.  “I’m not so sure we should have left it.  We should’ve stayed to see if anyone else showed up—who actually knew about the revival of the men.”      “What, you don’t think Kitosumo and his bro— aide had anything to do with it?”      Sango’s gaze sharpened.  “What were you going to say?”      “I thought you’d at least suspect them,” he rambled on, hoping she wouldn’t notice his slip-up.  “It was rather fishy that they were there at the exact moment the jyaki changed—”      “Were you going to say his brother?”    &n bsp; “Whose brother?” he tried to feign innocence.      “Don’t act like I’m stupid, Miroku,” snapped Sango.  “Are Kitosumo and that dumb ass related?”      He winced at the sharpness of her tone.  Yep, she was angry.  And he was going to bear the brunt of her anger, since there weren’t any demons to beat up.  “Yes.  They’re brothers.”  He didn’t mention that they were both minions of Naraku.       “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” she said.  “Both ignorant fools who believe women are feeble creatures that’ll break if you so much as poke them—”      Which is exactly what we want them to think.  So they don’t try and harm you.  So you can spy unnoticed.      He rubbed her back, trying to get her to calm down.  “Let’s not give them any reason to think otherwise,” he said.  “Or you could be in very real danger.”      “Like this is anything new?”  She was glaring at the doctor and aide’s backs.      “We could use you, Sango—you’re privy to a whole mess of information that could help us win this battle.”      “We?  Who’s we?  And what do you mean, battle?  Is there one predicated to occur soon?”      She’s too quick.  Too smart.  “All in good time, my dear Sango,” he said lightly, tugging her closer to his side.      “Don’t try and pull that lovey-dovey distraction stuff on me,” she said, elbowing his side.  “We’re married now, remember?  Can’t be keeping secrets from your wife, now, can you?”      He gulped.  She could be scary when she wanted to…  “Later, sweetheart, later.  I promise.  When we’re alone,” he amended.      She narrowed her eyes.  “See that you remember this promise.”      “I never forget.  Anything.” - -      It was well past noon before the Almighty Inuyasha deemed it acceptable to rest.  They’d been traveling on a deserted country road, lined by trees on one side, and rolling hills on the other, heading for who-knows-where. It was picturesque setting that any other time Kagome would have enjoyed just the ambiance of walking… but then she would remember that she was traveling with a man of questionable integrity who could possibly turn on her in the blink of an eye and the Prime Minister whom both the Russians and factions of Japanese political groups wanted to kill.      Needless to say, this put a considerable damper on her mood.      They hadn’t encountered a single soul while on their trek so far, which most likely contributed to Inuyasha’s generous mood.  When he turned and called back to Kagome and Yoshida that they would take a quick break, Kagome practically jumped off the road and collapsed onto the grass, resting her weary legs.       “Ahh…”  she sighed.  Inuyasha was still standing, glowering down at her.  She smiled up at him sweetly.  “Won’t you come sit down, Inuyasha?”      “Keh.  I don’t need rest like you weak humans.”      “What youkai crawled up your butt?” she muttered.      “Very ladylike, Kagome,” he said mockingly.      Her eyes widened.  “Oh… that’s right, you have supersonic hearing.  I forgot.”  Never mind the fact that he only uses my name to mock me now…      “Keh.  Next you’ll be wanting food.  And sleep.”      Her stomach growled at the thought.  Damn him.      He smirked at her expense.      Muttering derogatory terms in his direction, Kagome huffily curled up into a ball and tried to make herself comfortable.  A few feet away, Yoshida was already snoring.      “You’re not planning on sleeping, are you, wench?” the hanyou of thoughts snorted.      “Yes,” she bit out, beyond annoyed.      “Testy, are we?”      She didn’t answer him.  Perhaps if she pretended to be asleep…?      “You can go ahead and pretend to be asleep.  I’m just gonna keep a lookout anyway.”       Kagome clenched her hands into fists.  Why did he have to be so childish sometimes?  Was he trying to guilt her out of sleeping so she could keep him company or something?  He was probably just mad that they weren’t making better time—he’d made it quite clear that women and old men were nothing but burdens.  But did he really have a choice?       A choice…  She squeezed her eyes shut, begging sleep to come.      Why was he dragging her around?  It’s not like she was helping him in anyway.  Right now they were probably just trying to get the Prime Minister to safety… but what was preventing him from just dumping her by the side of the road?  What use was she to him?  He was hanyou, and it wasn’t like her miko powers were anything special.       What if he’s stringing both Yoshida and I along, right into a trap?  What if he really isn’t trying to help us at all?      But was there another option?  A young, unaccompanied female—albeit a miko—traveling along was like hanging a “HEY!  FREE GOODS!” sign on her forehead.       She suddenly felt so alone and so lost that tears poked at the corners of her eyes.  She just wanted to be safe, in a nice warm bed with food and people she could trust…      But she knew that world was far, far away. - -      The only sound that broke the dead silence of the night was the footfalls of the four travelers.  Sango had taken to leaning slightly on Miroku as the night wore on and they still hadn’t reached the hospital tent.  Kitosumo and his brother had stayed approximately five feet ahead of them the entire journey, talking in hushed tones about lord-knows-what.  Sango’s curiosity got the better of her at one point and she quickly took a few steps forward, straining to hear their conversation—and got a whiff of—“And in the middle of the operation the woman asked me if it was possible to stimulate an orgasm with a special type of herb and promptly fell back to sleep—”      Cheeks burning, Sango fell back into step with Miroku, who smirked at her.  “Eavesdropping on doctors’ conversations can be cause permanent brain damage.  I thought you’d know that by now, Sango-chan.”      “Don’t call me that,” she muttered.  “And it’s later.  Are you going to tell me now?”      “Tell you what?” he asked innocently.      “Don’t give me that, Miroku…”      “It’s later, but it’s not safer.”      “Come on, they’re not paying any attention.  And you know it.  And I know for certain they’re not youkai, so there’s no possible way they can hear us—especially since the wind is blowing right in our faces.”      Damn, she was good.      “Yes, Aide Tonner is Kitosumo’s brother.”      “And…?”      He wearily rubbed his face.  “And those aren’t their real names.  We believe them to be called Hiten and Manten… but that’s not certain.  And you are not allowed to go mentioning those names anywhere else.”      She shot him a look that clearly said he was going to pay for that ignorant statement later.      “They’re terrorists,” he said bluntly.       Sango’s eyes widened comically and she made an effort not to stare at the “medics” backs.  “For which side?  The Black Mask?  Or misguided Channel terrorists?”      Don’t go there.  “Not sure,” he lied.  “Their loyalties are questionable.”       “But either option is ridiculous.  The General Sesshomaru Taisho has held… private meetings with Doctor Kitosumo on more than one occasion, and I very much doubt that they had anything to do with the condition of Kitosumo’s hospital.  If Taisho is consorting with him, he can’t possibly be Black Mask.  But he is so radical that even imaging him as a supporter of Yoshida makes me laugh.”      Miroku was taken by surprise at the astuteness of Sango’s evaluations.  Not to mention the fact that she’d noticed the meetings between Kitosumo and Taisho.  “You sure you aren’t doing undercover work?”      “Of course not!” she swiftly shot back, glaring at him a little.  “I told you I’m through with that.  I just have a sharp eye.”      “I see.  You’d be invaluable to any political organization, though.”      “Thank you, I think I’ll stick to nursing.”      “Not demon exterminating?”      “I am also through with that.  It was part of my past life and I don’t think I could ever go back to it.”      “I see,” he said again.  Darkness had completely fallen now and he moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.  “I wonder how much longer it’ll be till we reach the hospital.”      “I’m starting to wonder if this isn’t a ruse of some kind.”      “Yeah.  Good thing we’re behind them, ne?”      “Mmm.  If we’re not worrying about traitorous Japanese or invading Russians or radical youkai, we’re worrying about doctors who seem to have shifting loyalties.”      “No, they’re definitely on a side.  We’re just not sure which.”      “I’ll bet you anything they’re double agents,” she said wryly.       “Sango, don’t even joke about something like that.”  Miroku’s voice was sharp.      “Sorry.”  She looked at him curiously.  “Had a bad experience?”      “A friend did.  It’s just not something you want to… to find the humor in.”      “Yeah?  If we don’t try and find the humor in the gravest of subjects, what’s the point of living?”      “It’s more a matter of respect, I think.”      “Oh?” she said, rather frostily.      “Not to offend you or anything…” he said as an afterthought.      “It’s okay.  You’re just not used to death yet.”      His eyebrows pinched as a shadow of annoyance passed over his face.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”      “I’m a taijiya,” said Sango.  “I killed creatures for a living… and I had to learn to not let it bother me.  If I grieved for every single youkai I killed, I would be a perpetual mess of tears and ruddy cheeks.”      “That’s not what I—”      “No, you did mean it.  Because you were shocked that I could be so callous to death.  It’s always the same with you monks—oblivious to the real pain and suffering of the world, wrapped up in your own little holy thoughts—”       “Do you really believe that?”       Sango swallowed back the rest of her words and took a tentative glance at his face.  Yeah, he was angry.  But he deserved it.  She knew this was too good to be true—for a moment, she was caught up in the feeling of ‘love’ and the fact that they were “married.”  You’re really losing it, Sango—allowing yourself to be fooled by your own game.  “The truth hurts, huh?”      “It’s seems you’re not the girl I thought you were,” he said, his eyes turning a violent shade of purple.      “And you’re not exactly the man I thought—”      A horrible scream cut off her thought as she was thrown to the ground by a flying object.  “What the—?”       Miroku dropped to his knees.  “Sango!  Are you all right?”      “Oh my god oh my god…” She scrambled away from the thing that had hit her.  The unattached head of Aide Tonner.      Out of the shadows of the forest jumped an uncountable number of Russian soldiers. - -      Inuyasha’s ears perked up.  Kagome stopped in her tracks, too tired to ask what was bothering him.      “Something’s up,” he muttered, his gaze focused intently off in the distance.      Yoshida stood by Kagome, silent as well.      The hanyou turned to face the miko and the Prime Minister.  “Turn back.”      “What—?”      “Turn back.  I smell a battle up there.  And from the amount of blood, it isn’t pretty.” - -      “Run, Sango!”      “Miroku—”      “I said run!”  He swung his shakujou and knocked out two soldiers, only to have three more charge at him the next instant.      “Not on your life!”  Sango sprung to his side and began to fight off soldiers as well.      “Get out of here!” Miroku shouted at her, bashing a soldier on the head.  Two Russians pounced on him at the same time, bringing him down to the ground.  Sango threw a well-placed kick at the base of his head, snapping his neck.  She threw a kick at the other man, but he deftly caught her foot and pulled her to the ground.      She struggled to get to her feet, but the Russian soldier grabbed her, pulling her arms behind her back in a vice.  A terror seized her as she felt hands close around her neck, and began to struggle in earnest.      “Sango!” She saw Miroku throw a desperate punch at the man pinning him to the ground.  He was bleeding from… where?  She couldn’t tell; he was completely covered in blood.      Her vision was beginning to fade; her lungs were screaming for air.  She stomped on the feet of her captor, but that did little good.  She could hear him laughing at her as he squeezed harder.      Oh dear god…  She gasped for breath, but no air was let in.  Her throat burned and her vision was blurring.      And then, suddenly, the hands were gone.  Sango dropped to her knees, filling her lungs with the beautiful, cool, air.  Her hair fell into her face as she sat there, immobile, breathing.      Why isn’t anyone else attacking me?      She snuck a glance through her curtain of hair and saw three Russian soldiers fall to the ground at once, blood showering through the air like a rainstorm.  In front of the pile of bodies landed a khaki-clad figure, which straightened and regarded her intently with piercing blue eyes.  His black ponytail was swaying slightly from the jump.       He turned his head and viewed his handiwork: every single Russian in that band that had jumped out at them was now lying on the ground in a pool of blood.      Despite her taijiya upbringing, Sango nearly gagged.      “You look familiar,” the man said, squatting down on his hamstrings to look at her curiously.  “Have we met before?”      “I don’t… believe so,” she said, massaging her sore neck.  She was surely going to have bruises from the soldier’s death grip.      “Hm.”  His crystalline eyes shifted to her left.  “That priest—he belong to you?”      Miroku!  Sango gasped and scrambled over to his side, tripping on her dress in the process.  “Miroku—!”       His eyes were closed, but he was breathing—barely.  His robes were soaked with blood.      “Miroku…”  She laid a hand on his forehead; a silly gesture, but pure reflex.  “Wake up… please, wake up.  We need to get you to safety.”      He moaned a little, but didn’t open his eyes.      Sango looked up helplessly at the blue-eyed man.  “Can you take us about five miles down the road or so?  He needs immediate help…”  she trailed off.  “But first, who are you, exactly?”      He flashed her a grin.  “Don’t worry, missy, I’m on your side.”      “How can you know that?”      He pointed at Miroku.  “He’s with us, ma’am.  I don’t suppose you’d be traveling with him if you weren’t a sympathizer for our cause as well.”      “Your cause being…?”      “Rest assured, ma’am, I am a full-blooded demon and part of the Channel.  Though you look human yourself… smell like one, too.”  He reached over and grabbed Miroku by the robes, slinging him over his shoulders.  Miroku gave a small groan of pain, but that was it.      “Now,” the man said, nodding towards Sango, “let’s go find that hospital before this guy dies.”      She winced but followed mutely, her overworked brain trying to process the information she’d just received.  So… Miroku’s not only knows of the Channel, he’s part of the Channel.  Yeah, whatever happened to truth within a marriage? - -      She’s human… and she didn’t react to the name “Channel,” Kouga mused.  And this is most obviously our saintly contact—or he was.  May have to find a new one in a few hours.      What he didn’t understand was why she and the monk had been traveling with the Thunder brothers, Hiten and Manten, those Black Mask bums.  He’d found Manten’s head, but Hiten had somehow disappeared during the skirmish.        The woman was silent as she walked, her gaze straying to look at the man upon his shoulders from time to time.  Hm.  Wonder if she’s in love with him or something…?      Was she a Channel collaborator?  Or did the Thunder brothers’ presence mean something more?      Kouga shrugged.  No matter.  If she was involved with Naraku, he’d kill her before she had a chance to beg otherwise. - -      Once again, Inuyasha stopped short in the middle of the road.  This time, Kagome crashed into his back.  “What the hell, Inuyasha?  Make up your freaking mind!”      “Shut it,” he said absently, sniffing the air.  Kouga.  That wolf’s around here?  What the hell for?  He jerked towards Yoshida and pointed to his back.  “Get on.”      “I beg your pardon,” the man spluttered.       “No time.  Get on.”  As the older man tried to climb on in the most dignified way possible, he held out an arm to Kagome.  “Come on,” he said impatiently.  “I’ll have to carry you—there’s no way we can travel fast enough with you dragging your feet like that.”       She stood firm.  “Where are we going?  I thought you said there was a battle.”      “You’re a nurse, aren’t you?  There will undoubtedly be casualties.  You need to be there.”      “What about getting Yoshida-sama to safety?”      “Don’t you trust me?”      She gave him a wary look.  “I’m not so sure anymore…”      Why did that hurt so much?  He pushed the thought out of his mind with a scowl.  What they hell did he care if this wench trusted him or not?  “Well, sorry, you don’t have a choice.”  He swept her off her feet and cuddled her to his chest with one arm, keeping the other on Yoshida’s back.  He felt like a freakin’ circus clown.  “Put your arms around my neck.”      She reluctantly did so.      Good.  That took some pressure of his one arm.      “And off we go,” he muttered, racing off into the distance.  Maybe if he found Kouga, he’d dump the girl off with him and get Yoshida to safety.  And then he could focus on his own priorities. - -      Nearly an hour later, Sango, Miroku, and the mysterious demon reached the field hospital.  Sango’s feet were dragging by then, and Miroku was still passed out cold, most likely from blood loss.  The light from inside the haphazardly-set up tent illuminated figures inside, their shadows cast against the canvas like a child playing hand games with a candle.      The demon confidently strode into the tent.  “Oi!  Nurse-women!  I need a doctor!”      A few nurses glanced at him uninterestedly and didn’t halt what they were doing.  Sango had to laugh at the miffed expression on the man’s face.  Obviously he wasn’t used to being ignored.      She didn’t recognize many of the nurses here, which was a little unsettling.  She had assumed that Kitosumo had traveled with his entourage of nurses… but then she remembered the fire.  She bit her lip.  That’s right… I’d nearly forgotten about that.  Kagome—I wonder where Kagome is?      One of the new nurses walked up to them, wiping her hands on her apron.  “If you’ll just set the man on this open cot over here, I’ll take care of him until a doctor can see him.”      The demon startled and was staring at the pretty red-headed nurses with an almost hostile glare.  “Of course… my dear,” he nearly snarled.      She raised her chin in response, her green eyes flashing.         “Excuse me,” Sango said, breaking the negative electricity passing between them, “but I’m a nurse, too… I was separated from the group after the battle at Sapporo.  Who should I see to be readmitted?”      “Dr. Kitosumo just came in not too long ago from an excursion of some sort.  He’s outside the back of the tent, taking a break.”      Sango started.  “Dr. Kitosumo?  He’s… alive?”      “Looked like death itself, but he’s breathing.”      “Ah.”  She narrowed her eyes.  “Well, thank you… Ill just go see him then…”      The nurse stepped aside, allowing her berth.  Sango purposefully strode down the aisle between the two rows of cots that held wounded soldiers.  Kitosumo was alive, was he?  The little weasel must have slipped out of the skirmish somehow.      She was beginning to believe that there were a few hidden meanings to the nickname ‘Devil Doctor.’ - -      As soon as the woman was out of earshot, Kouga dumped the contact on a bed and turned to face Ayame.  “What the hell are you doing here, woman?”      “Nursing.  What does it look like?”      “I doubt that’s all you’re doing.”      She smiled tightly.  “You know best.”      He caught the sarcasm.  “And don’t you forget it.”      “Arrogant pig.”  She turned away and began to tug off the monk’s robes.  “God, this man is soaked in blood… how many times did he get shot?”  The fabric finally gave and her breath caught as she took in the sight before her.  “My god…”      He had at least four bullet wounds in his abdomen, and she couldn’t count how many elsewhere.  She swore and looked around for a doctor.  “I’m not qualified to remove these… and they need to come out before infection sets in.”      Kouga crossed his arms.  “What do you want me to do about it?”      “His life is important to you, isn’t it?  Go find a doctor!”      “Ayame, I don’t want you to be here.  It’s dangerous.”      “So I’m supposed to watch silently while you go off putting yourself into danger?  Maybe now you know how it feels being helpless to control the fate of a loved one—”  She pursed her lips.  “Never mind.”       Kouga grasped her shoulders and forced her to look him in the eye.  “I just want to protect you—”      “I understand—but you can’t.”      “What do you mean I can’t?”   &nbs p;  “How can you protect me when you’re—” she lowered her voice—“gallivanting off doing your patriotic missions?  I’m probably in more danger just sitting around in the village than being here, actually fighting for what I believe in.”      “I don’t see you doing much fighting,” he snarled.      “Yeah?  Open your eyes, blindman, I’m aiding my cause just as much as you are—so get over it!”      “Ayame—”      She pulled away from him.  “We’re done with this conversation.  And I need to find a doctor.”  With that, she stormed away.      Kouga looked down at the monk.  “Must be nice to be a holy man and not have to worry about females.” - -      Dr. Kitosumo was sitting on a crate outside the tent, listlessly smoking a cigarette.      Sango pointedly cleared her throat, making sure to keep a good distance from him.      “Yeah?”  He didn’t even raise his head to look at her.       “How did you get out of that battle so quickly?”      Now he looked up.  “Oh.  You’re alive.”      Damn straight I am.  “Yeah.  Nice to see you too.”      “Quite.  After all those nurses I lost, it’s nice to know I still have some left.”  He feebly threw the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his foot.      “You didn’t answer my question.”      “I am aware of that, Miss Sango.”      “… Well?”      “Return to you duties, since you obviously need something to do.”      “Not until you answer my question.”      “As a doctor, and your superior, I have no obligation to answer any question of yours.”      “You pompous ass, I nearly died out there—and my husband is this close away from taking permanent residence in the afterlife!  I think that’s justification enough for wanting to know why you’re sitting here unscathed!”       He blew a smoke ring in her face.  “Get out of here, bitch.”      She slapped him.      Kitosumo shot to his feet and shoved her to the ground.  “How dare you—”      “Careful, Doctor,” she taunted, rising to her feet.  “Bear in mind that I could kick your ass any day of the week.”      He threw her to the ground again, this time covering her body with his own.  She kneed him forcefully, but he didn’t even flinch.  “There’s nothing stopping me right now from stealing your innocence,” he leered, his breath hot on her face.      Sickened, Sango pushed upwards and flipped him over so that his arms were pinned beneath her and he was face-down in the dirt.  “I’m married, remember?  And if you ever try a stunt like that again, I’ll kill you.”      He snarled and jerked his head upwards, his skull cracking against her jaw.  With a cry of pain, Sango fell backwards onto her rear.      Kitosumo rose to his feet and cruelly grabbed a fistful of her hair.  “I can have you murdered in a second, sweetheart.  You think I’m stupid?  I know you’re in with the Channel… you and your ‘husband.’  The only thing that’s kept my from killing you is your nursing skills.  I suggest you abandon this foolish… patriotism—” he spat the word—“and focus on finding yourself a real husband.  A woman who fights and spies loses her appeal.”      “Bastard,” she whispered.      “And don’t your forget it.”  He let go of her hair and strode toward the tent.  “Oh…”  He paused, his hand on the flap.  “And if you want to continue living, Miss Sango, I suggest you distance yourself from that monk.  And don’t mention this conversation again… Unpleasant scenes leave a bitter taste in my mouth.”      He disappeared into the tent.      Sango slowly pushed herself to her knees, shaken.  He knew?  Everything?  And he was keeping her on because she was a good nurse?      Hell, she didn’t have to stand for this.  She’d go work at another hospital, since her skills were apparently so favorable.      Miroku.  She needed to see Miroku.  She didn’t care if he was mad at her, she needed him.  She cared more about him than any other man she’d ever known…      She burst into the tent and sprinted to where she saw Miroku last.      He wasn’t there.  Neither was the blue-eyed demon.      Where…?  A sinking feeling emerging in the pit of her stomach, she sought out the red-haired nurse.  “Miss?  Where did you put the wounded man in the purple robes?  He was lying on that bed a minute ago…”      “Oh, him?  The… ah… soldier… took him.  Said he could find him much better care for him in another location.  Said he didn’t trust this hospital… or its workers.”  Her lip curled.      Sango reeled, grasping the edge of a cot for support.  No…      “Hey, are you okay?”  The woman slipped an arm around her waist.  “You’ve gone pale.  Let me get you something to eat and drink… that battle must have had an awful toll on you.”      Gods, no… Miroku…      Now she’d lost everything… - -      Inuyasha stopped abruptly and Kagome tightened her arms around his neck to avoid falling.       “What is it?” she asked.      His face was twisted into a grimace.  “The Wolf.”  He set Kagome down and helped Yoshida off his back.  They were in deep inside the forest; Kagome had no idea where they were, but assumed they were still in Japan… though they could be in England for all she knew.      A familiar whirlwind was rising in the distance, testifying that Inuyasha’s nose had once again proven its worth.  The wolf demon stopped in front of their rag-tag group, a wounded, shirtless man in his arms.  “Dog-turd?  What are you doing here?”      “Trying to get the Prime Minister to safety,” he snapped.  “And what are you doing?”      “Getting our contact to one of our hospitals where we can be sure he won’t be murdered during the night by Doctors that really work for the other side.”      “Oh.  Not a bad idea,” he said grudgingly.      “Oh—!  Miroku-sama!” cried Kagome, suddenly recognizing the man.  “Is he all right?”      “A little banged up, but no worse for wear,” the wolf demon said.  “And how are you, Miss Kagome?”      “Tired.  Worried.”      “Want me to take her with me, Doggie Turd?  That way you can focus on getting Yoshida-sama to a safehaven—”      Inuyasha roughly pulled Kagome towards his side.  “She’s fine.  I’m fine.  We’re fine.  Bye, Wolf.”      The demon shrugged.  “Have it your way.  But that’s an extra two days of traveling with her along.”      They made it seem like she was an unwanted piece of baggage or something… Kagome shoved away from Inuyasha.  It wasn’t as if she’d been asked to be abducted.      “I know.”  Inuyasha didn’t look too happy about the fact.  “We’ll make it all right.”      “Sure.  I’ll let the guys know you’re still alive.”      “Appreciate it.”  Inuyasha motioned to Yoshida, who climbed up on the hanyou’s back again.  Inuyasha scooped Kagome up into his arms and took off running, not bothering to say goodbye to Wolf.      Kagome stiffly held on to his neck.  “If I’m really that much of a burden, why didn’t you let Wolf take me to wherever he was going?”      “Don’t worry about it.”      “At least I could’ve rested there.”      “Did you really want to go with that Wimpy Wolf, wench?” he said, looking at her crossly.      “No… not really,” she murmured, looking down.  “But if I’m just a hindrance to you—”      “I said don’t worry about it.”  He tugged her closer to him, so close that she was able to hear his heartbeat.  “You can sleep if you want… if you’re tired.”      “How can I sleep with all this jouncing?” she replied halfheartedly.      He tucked her head into the crook of his neck.  “You’re fine, wench… don’t worry so much.”      Is that his way of saying…?  Kagome yawned and decided to take his advice.  She wouldn’t worry about it—at least not for tonight. -     As they traveled farther north, the Russian army slowly crept inland, their hold on Japanese territory increasing with every step of the way.   - - -

A/N: Wow, it felt good to post this. Sorry for the horrible time delay, but I think I’ve got the ball rolling again. I know the amount of dialogue in the past few chapters was a bit excessive, but it was necessary. (; I apologize for any careless errors; I really wanted to get this chapter out. Hope you guys enjoyed (thanks for putting up with my slow updates). Review and tell me what you thought!