InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden Identities ❯ Unintentional Accomplice ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: The characters of InuYasha belong to Rumiko Takahashi, not me.

Acknowledgements: Many, many thanks to my beta, the lovely Fenikkusuken, who has not only been through about four drafts of this fic, but didn't panic originally when I said “I've got this one-shot which has gone slightly out of control”… and dropped all of it (including all the subsequent chapters) on her at once.

A/N: I blame Batman.

 

*

 

Almost home, almost home, almost home….

 

It was one of those February nights. Dark, miserable, and cold. Kagome Higurashi wrapped her coat more closely around herself as she hurried home, her footsteps clattering too loudly in the narrow empty street. She knew that she shouldn't be walking alone this late at night, but the evening operation she'd begged to watch had experienced complications, and a two hour surgery had turned into a six hour marathon. I wish I could've ordered a taxi, but I need to eat, and Eri's car's broken again so I can't call her for a lift! Closely packed buildings crowded in on either side of the young woman in an intimidating honour guard, their upper stories lost above the dim street lights. Shivering, she attempted to increase her stride without drawing unnecessary attention to herself by actually running. Her paltry student budget also meant that instead of staying on the Komaba campus, she was living in one of the less salubrious parts of Tokyo on the edge of the Ueno district. I hope all the nice gang members are home watching television and not out looking for targets!

 

Kagome heard what sounded like a moan close at hand and looked around quickly, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. She hesitated for an instant, before ducking into a fence-flanked alleyway to her left. It was even darker in here and more frightening, but it also meant she would be home in two minutes rather than seven.

 

Nearly home, nearly home, nearly home...

 

The groan sounded again, agonised and much closer. The young woman jumped, and began to run but her foot caught on a shadow and she fell forward, catching herself on her palms and scraping them badly on the rough concrete. Gravity wrenched her backpack painfully from her shoulder. The thump and subsequently clatter of the contents spilling out into the alley was agonisingly loud. Muttering under her breath at the blood on her palms, Kagome groped in the blackness for her possessions. It took a minute for the girl's eyes to fully adjust to the alleyway's gloom. Glancing towards the offending object as she pushed a textbook into her bag, the darkness slowly morphed to a long, low soft-looking pile of something, and a long spill of stained silver-white on the ground next to it. A pale, slender appendage extended resolving into… fingers.

 

It's a corpse! Shock caused the girl to draw in a breath for a scream, but her common sense kicked in just in time to stop her from drawing attention to herself here, in this place. As she scrambled upright and began backing away, the fingers twitched.

 

It's… they're not dead…?

 

New but well-honed medical instincts came to the fore. Crouching, she reached forward with shaking fingers to touch the hand and discovered it to be cool. He or she's been here for a while. Fumbling in the dark, the young woman traced up the arm connected to that pale hand to what was definitely a shoulder. She groped for a pulse under the victim's jaw and was rewarded by an erratic flicker against her fingertips. Definitely alive. Taking a deep breath, the young woman quelled her panic in favour of the unconscious victim. Calm down, Higurashi. Check for injuries!

 

Kagome reached back into her bag, feeling around for the small, powerful torch she always carried. Is the lens cracked? The medical student sighed in relief as the light turned on despite the damage from the fall. Shuffling towards one end of the body, the young woman gripped the torch in her left hand, touching the figure with her right.

 

Bare feet, no damage. No broken bones on the ankles. Red trousers. No damage to the shins on either legs. Knees intact. No damage to the thighs. Kagome crawled forwards on hands and knees towards the top end of the person and her knees skidded on wetness. Blood and lots of it; that's not good. Definitely male, judging by the chest. There's blood all over the red jacket; feels like there's several broken ribs. Ahh… more damage underneath there too. Silver hair. No damage to the neck or jawbone. Facial structure seems intact. No obvious damage to his skull. Fur-covered animal ears, undamaged.

 

Animal ears?

 

He must be a member of one of the... oh, no! Kagome gaped, and then scrabbled backwards in recognition. This is really, really bad!

 

Self preservation warred with compassion. The medical student stared sightlessly at the five long, vertical marks gouged into the wall just above the man's head.

 

OK, keep calm, Kagome! I need to check which one… Kagome gulped, and shuffled within range again. Ayumi said that in all the documented cases, there was a tattoo, often on the wrist. Left wrist or right? The young woman shone the beam onto the man's arms, cautiously pulling back the heavy sleeves to reveal unmarked skin up to the elbows.

 

Definitely can't call an ambulance, or the police, even if I had any credit on my mobile. It's a huge risk to move him in case he has a spinal cord injury... but I can't just leave him here. If his attackers come back to finish the job, or the police find him... it wouldn't be good for his survival either way.

 

Something creaked on a roof nearby. Her heart in her mouth, the young woman instantly killed the torch. Looking up towards the silhouette of the sky, something moved, before disappearing. In the far distance, she could see tiny police helicopters.

 

He's going to die if I leave him...

 

Making up her mind, she ignored the voice of reason. The young woman first secured her backpack with both straps. Next, shuffling forwards on her knees, she took hold of the victim's limp arm, drew it over her shoulders, and heaved mightily.

 

He was extremely heavy and she staggered while trying desperately to stabilize their balance. The man whimpered slightly, but some of the load lifted as he took a little of his weight on his own feet. Her hands slipping on wet fabric, yanking and sliding, Kagome managed to manhandle the man down the alleyway, around the corner and to the entry of her building, the red brickwork stained from years of smoke and dirt. Opening the door, the girl shoved the injured man into the foyer and left him propped against the wall as she locked the metal grate and heavy door behind them. Her heart sank as she considered the four flights of stairs to her room.

 

As she turned towards him, the dim lighting gave her the first proper look at her companion.

 

Oh! Under the bruising and dirt, his face was strikingly beautiful with a fine bone structure, but his red clothing was soaked in blood and he needed medical attention now. The white shirt underneath the gaping jacket was acquiring the same blood red hue. Those odd ears drooped forwards pathetically. I've brought him this far… can't dump him now.

 

“Come on, just a little further…” Kagome muttered to the slumping stranger as she again hauled him upright. Scaling the flights seemed to take forever, and he became heavier and heavier until she was whimpering almost as much as he was.

 

Eventually, she gratefully reached her door. Unlocking it, she pulled him through and dragged him towards the bed, barely managing to direct his collapse into a possibly-comfortable position. Shaking, Kagome stepped back and leant against the wall as the situation slowly began to sink in. She was alone, in her tiny one-room bedsit, with a man of dubious reputation who was most likely gang related bleeding all over her bed.

 

What do I do now?

 

*

 

What Kagome ended up doing was exactly what she was trained to do; help the injured. It took her just over an hour, all told. The first ten minutes were needed to ease him out of his strange, almost medieval clothes. It would have been quicker to just cut them off, but to the young woman's shock her sharpest scissors simply broke against the heavy cloth. What on earth is this stuff made out of? She dropped the garments in a bloody pile on the threadbare carpet to deal with later in favour of spending another five minutes reassessing the fairly extensive damage to his body. Well, that explains all the blood. The main problem was his left side; the ruined mass looked as though he'd been slashed and bludgeoned repeatedly by someone who took a sadistic joy in inflicting pain. His ribs were partly flayed, and the skin that was still connected was mottled black with bruises. Through one of the deeper gashes in his shoulder, she could see what looked ominously like a piece of metal wedged deep into his flesh.

 

Kagome sat back on her heels. That piece of metal has to come out now in case of infection, and I have to stop him from losing more blood. She went into the kitchenette and retrieved her first aid kit out from under the sink. Checking through the various supplies collected from generous supervisors, she realized with a sinking sensation that she didn't have a scalpel. I need something sharp… hmmm, that might work. Reaching into the drawer, she pulled out the kitchen knife that had been her mother's going-away gift. The young woman flicked on the gas hob, and after a moment's hesitation on the insanity of the whole plan, held the blade in the flame to sterilise it. After a minute she turned off the heat, and gathering her courage, moved back towards her guest with the first aid kit in her other hand.

 

Whose brilliant idea was this, anyway? Arranging her supplies on the bed, she checked her unexpected patient's condition. The man was sweating heavily, his skin clammy, but was mercifully unconscious. Kagome gently slipped an absorbent pad under his shoulder and wadded some gauze, then laid out the sutures within easy reach. Gritting her teeth, she touched the tip of the knife to the wound, then in a quick movement, pushed the blade firmly into the tortured flesh and twisted it, flicking the piece of metal free. He yelped in pain, his head turning towards her and his eyes snapping open. They were disguised like the rest of him, an unnatural bright gold; however, she was distracted from contemplating their cat's-slit pupils when he grabbed hold of her wrist with a surprisingly strong grip… and the claws tipping his fingers dug into her skin.

 

“It's OK, just hang on,” she said soothingly, nervously eyeing the claws whilst dropping the bloody knife and applying heavy pressure to the wound with her free hand.

 

“Kikyo?”

 

“No, I'm Kagome,” she answered, frowning as the wound continued to bleed. “This would be easier if I could use both hands.” He let go of her wrist and she added more gauze as the first wad became saturated. “Can I call an ambulance?”

 

“No. No hospital. No police.” Shuddering violently, he dropped into unconsciousness again.

 

Kagome pulled a face as she pressed on the wound with as much strength as she dared. I'd guessed as much.

 

It took another ten minutes to staunch the bleeding, and another ten to carefully stitch the multiple sides of the wound. The there was another twenty minutes to clean with antiseptic most of the other cuts and slashes, and a final fifteen minutes to stitch up four of the more severe wounds.

 

She was just congratulating herself on a thorough job when she remembered something. Oh, no… the hallway! I have to do something about that! Scooping the impromptu scalpel and springing across the room, she put the knife in the sink and rapidly dug out a bucket, a sponge and some cleaning solution. Filling the bucket, she hastily charged outside to set about cleaning the stairs and the foyer of the bloody smears that liberally decorated the floors and the walls… and conveniently led straight to her door for the ease of any pursuers or the authorities. It took about half an hour, and as she worked, she grudgingly admitted to herself that she was not only avoiding making any further decisions about the man upstairs, but was also clearing up evidence. I can't call the police or an ambulance now because I'm an accomplice.

 

Afterwards, Kagome went to the tiny cupboard in her room masquerading as a bathroom and showered off. Donning a disreputable old tee shirt, the young woman crept cautiously out of the bathroom over to her bed to evaluate her patient. The man's face was twisted in pain and anger even in sleep, his skin flushed. As she watched, he snarled softly, giving her an alarming view of a pair of extremely sharp looking fangs. Claws and fangs? Maybe I should call the police after all.

 

He twisted on the bed, and the snarl changed instantly to an agonised whimper as his wounds pulled. Kagome sighed as her conscience pushed away any thought but that of helping and moved to clean up the mess on her floor. The bloodied piece of shrapnel glinted among the bedclothes; she picked it up and turned it over in her hands. It was oddly shaped; triangular with a sharp point that had obviously sheared off something larger and more deadly. She shuddered, and collected up the rest of the wrappers from her treatment, then dropped the whole mess in the bin. Her clothes were besmirched to the point she had to leave them soaking in the bucket; his clothing was already stiffening from the gore that saturated it, and the garments were quickly consigned to the sink. At least he has his underwear, although I'll have to find him something else in the morning because it needs a wash, too.

 

An unexpected yawn took her completely off-guard; stifling it against the back of her hand, she acknowledged the stress of the last few hours. Fishing her one spare sheet out of the cupboard, she draped it over her sleeping patient. Nervously considering her undeniably masculine guest, she had to admit that she had no other options in the tiny bedsit. Mind you, with those injuries, he's unlikely to have ravishment on his mind… if he can even walk. And there definitely no spider tattoos anywhere. Curling up under her spare blanket on the small two person sofa, she promptly fell asleep.

 

*

 

It was bright morning, the sky a dazzling blue on the Shirokane campus. Beckoned by the riot of colour, Kagome paused to appreciate the new spring daffodils, set off by the more sedate pond reeds in front of the Medical Institute's First Building as she waited.

 

“Hey Higurashi! Nice flowers!” Kagome glanced up to smile at the rather attractive man beaming at her.

 

“Good morning, Hojo!”

 

“So, how did the surgery go last night?”

 

“It was… educational. The patient went into cardiac failure, so it was a bit of battle rather than the routine procedure that they expected, but he survived.”

 

“Could you tell me about it over coffee after class… maybe?”

 

“Usually I would, but I can't come to class today I'm afraid. A… um… friend of the family dropped in unexpectedly last night.”

 

“How come you're here, then?” Hojo asked curiously. “Biochemistry starts in five minutes.”

 

“He…er… got a case of food poisoning and his clothes didn't make it through unscathed. He needs to get home for an afternoon shift at work, but I need to borrow some clothes for him because there's not enough time to get it all washed and dried in the laundrette. And I wondered… well, do you have anything I could borrow as you're a similar size? I'll get it back in a few days…”

 

As Hojo stared at her in surprise, Kagome couldn't help fidgeting. Oh… poot. I'm such a lousy liar.

 

“Do you want me to come and check on him for you as a second opinion?” the man asked, concerned. “I mean, you could have just phoned and I could have dropped off something earlier.”

 

“No, no, it's fine. I'm nervous about second opinions ever since Grandpa diagnosed my flu as Beri-Beri,” Kagome pulled a face as he laughed, “but I didn't phone as I had no credit.”

 

“So if you don't have money for the phone… let me guess, you walked home last night too?” He grimaced when she nodded. Easing his bag off his shoulder, Hojo said, “Well, Higurashi, it's your lucky day… I have track practice today.” With the air of a stage performer, he pulled a tracksuit out of his bag and dropped it into her arms. “How about this?”

 

“That would be brilliant, but… isn't that your varsity kit? And don't you need it?”

 

“I can borrow kit from the coach as he always keeps spares, but you only get it on one condition.”

 

“What's that?”

 

The young man smiled and flipped a refill card from his wallet. “You take these phone credits, and you promise me that next time you need help, you'll call someone. You know Yuka worries worse than your mother does considering where you live. I don't dare tell her you walked home.”

 

“It's only because she's sensible. Anyway, I promise,” she murmured, warmed by his attention. “And one last favour…”

 

“Anything, you know that.”

 

“Can I borrow your biochem notes for whatever I miss?”

 

“Sure. Take care, Higurashi. See you tomorrow!”

 

“I hope so!” Kagome was already running back down the path to the Shirokanedai exit, waving as she went.

 

*

 

Sitting curled up on the shabby couch in her equally dilapidated bedsit, her arms wrapped around her bent legs, Kagome rested her chin on her knees and watched the slow breathing of the man lying on her bed. Upon returning home, the young woman had changed his dressings and sponged down the lean planes of his body, amazed to find that his wounds were healing more rapidly than conventional medicine dictated. He was still badly hurt, but much of the bruising had already disappeared, and the skin was reknitting at an abnormally fast rate. Even the cracked ribs seemed sturdier when she gently pressed them.

 

Feeling a little unsettled, she idly picked at a loose thread on the worn cushion. I'd kinda hoped that he would wake up and leave, but no chance of that, not with those injuries, even if they are healing freakishly quickly. Rubbing her hand over her face, she admitted to selfishly wanting the entire incident to be over. Things have suddenly become way too complicated… if I were sensible, I should just call the police and be done with it. Ayumi showed me some of the related cases in her criminal law paper last term, and even the memory of them gives me the heebie jeebies.

 

The authorities were as determined to capture this man and his associates as they were the other gangs, and would be ecstatic to get him alive and incapacitated. Their reputation regarding dangerous prisoners isn't exactly clean… but if my suspicions are right, I'm in a lot more personal danger than I bargained for. I'll have every gang lord in Tokyo lining up to carve him - and stupidly helpful me - into pieces. Sighing as she shifted in her seat, she acknowledged the other part of her that demanded she take care of him, because in her heart she believed her guest was one of the good guys. That part urged her to watch over him, to protect him from danger. As if he knew he was the subject of her scrutiny, one white furry ear flickered rapidly before softly drooping. I'm itching to remove those ears and take out the contacts to see who he really is, but that would be insane if I ever hope to escape this mess.

 

In the end, the young woman took the middle ground and did nothing. She laid out her notes and her textbooks, and did her homework instead.

 

*

 

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since she'd found him when he finally woke up. Kagome looked up from her place on the threadbare rug when she heard him groan. Scrambling to her feet, she quickly filled a glass of water and moved towards the bed with a dose of painkillers. Setting them down on the box that served as a bedside table, she observed that his eyes were open and watching her with a frightening intensity, that unnatural gold colour glinting against his pale skin.

 

“Good evening.” She gave him a crooked smile, hoping to get some reaction. His eyes narrowed and he glanced around. Kagome foolishly reached to check his temperature, but his hand whipped up and caught her wrist, his teeth bared in a snarl. “S-sorry!” she stammered, trying to wriggle her arm loose. Wordlessly, he let her go. “Look, I know you're one of the Youkai Pack… right?” He had initially tensed, but then relaxed slightly at her comment and nodded, but remained silent. “I found you in the alley last night and you've been here ever since. I patched you up, as I didn't think you'd want to be taken to the police.”

 

“Why didn't you?” He spoke for the first time, his voice rough from his long sleep.

 

Kagome chewed her lip before finally answering. “Because regardless of what the police say, we need you to stop the Spider. No-one else can.” He examined her face until she blushed and ducked her head, gesturing to the water. “That's for you, as are the painkillers. Normally I'd advise against eating for several days with the injuries you sustained, but… well… you seem to heal remarkably quickly, so if you're hungry I have some instant ramen in the cupboards. It's not much, but it's better than nothing.”

 

He nodded once and watched as she moved to the tiny kitchenette and set the water to boiling. She watched him cautiously out of the corner of her eye, jumping skittishly when he threw back the covers and swung his feet onto the floor. Kagome stared keenly at the almost completely-healed wounds, then blushed scarlet and looked away. He'll think I'm a pervert if I keep ogling him!

 

“Fuck, that hurts. Clothes?” he rasped.

 

“Your red outfit was soaked with blood, so I washed it out as best I could,” she said, pointing at the chair currently doubling as a drying rack. “It isn't really wearable right now, so I borrowed a tracksuit that might fit you. There's a towel and the bathroom is the door facing you, and just leave your underwear in there; I'll wash it with the sheets.”

 

Carefully easing himself upright, he wrapped the towel around his narrow waist and moved gingerly to the bathroom. By the time he emerged, dressed in Hojo's team colours, there was a bowl of noodles waiting on the table. She gestured to the chair, and he sat down, pulling the food towards him. He's still wearing the contacts and the animal ears, and his hair is both wet and still white, so the colour obviously doesn't wash out. I hope Hojo's clothes don't get damaged; I'll feel awful if I can't give them back!

 

Eating quickly without speaking, he emptied the bowl and pushed it away, then began intently studying her, with an expression that verged on disbelief. Kagome's appetite deserted her from the scrutiny, so she pushed her noodles towards him. He shrugged, and ate them as well.

 

“You can stay here for a few days if you want; you're not in a fit state to go anywhere.” He tilted his head on the side, his strangely-coloured eyes never leaving her face as she nervously continued, “I'll take your stitches out for you in a week or so as well, and I promise I won't tell anyone you were here.” Unable to cope with his intense golden stare any further, she retrieved her only remaining clean bottom sheet and pillowcase and changed the bed, taking the bloodied linens over to soak in the sink with his underwear. She then sat back down on the floor next to her notes; after a few minutes of his gaze boring into the top of her head, she suggested, “You should get some more sleep. It'll heal you better than anything else. And take out your contacts.”

 

He shrugged, instead moving across to the couch and flipped on the tiny television in the corner. The flickering screen resolved into a news anchor.

 

“… Police sources confirm that last night there was another clash between members of the masked vigilante group known as the Youkai Pack, and the members of the notorious Spider Gang in the TaitÅ Ward near Ueno Park. Witnesses report a bloody pitched battle between multiple combatants, and the bodies of at least two civilians have been found, presumably caught in the cross fire. Police are appealing for any further information on either group…”

 

Kagome bit her lip and didn't look up. She heard him growl under his breath and change the channel.

 

“… And in the latest society news, the two billionaire heirs to the Taisho fortune were seen out in the Roppongi district with no less than the whole of GirlFriday. According to our sources, all five pop princesses were invited back to a private party at the mansion, and didn't emerge for the entire weekend. We can't help but wonder what their agents think of that!”

 

Click.

 

“… The death toll continues to rise in the latest gangland statistics. The mayor has pledged to support the police and will sanction an increase in the force's numbers. Imposition of martial law has been mentioned…”

 

Click.

 

“… Another museum has been hit in the latest string of antique thefts. This time, the theft was a collection of jewellery dating back over 500 years from the Sengoku era…”

 

She made an effort to tune out the television and buried herself in her textbook. Urg. I'll never get this lymph system diagram right if I don't concentrate! Although, I can't help but wonder how he healed so fast… Finally after an hour or so, her `guest' yawned, and carefully made his way back to the bed. An hour or so after that, she cautiously checked his condition, and finding him deeply asleep, tucked him under the covers. As she pushed his hair away from his face, she was startled when he turned his cheek into her hand. Flushing scarlet over the unexpectedly intimate contact, she scooted back to her place on the floor and determinedly tackled her physiology text.

 

*

 

It was just after midnight when Kagome finally padded over to the cramped sofa for the second night in a row. Uncomfortably curling up into a ball, she sleepily pondered the room's other occupant, and his remarkable healing abilities.

 

It's almost inhuman. Then again, he has claws, fangs, and he growls, not to mention I still can't work out how those animal-like ears operate or how he's hidden his normal ones. Maybe he really is a youkai.

 

The medical student gave a drowsy laugh at that ridiculous thought, and pulled the blanket tighter until she fell asleep.

 

*

 

In the middle of the night, Kagome awakened slightly to the sensation of movement. As she murmured a disjointed protest, something rumbled next to her ear just before she was deposited onto a warm, soft surface. Stretching out contentedly, she sighed happily as warmth wrapped around her before dropping back into a deeper sleep.

 

As unconsciousness swallowed her, something warm and soft brushed past her cheek.

 

*

 

He was gone the next morning.

 

She was surprised to find herself on the bed rather than on the sofa; once over that disconcerting discovery, she lay back and stared sightlessly at the cracks in the ceiling, torn between relief and a slightly more indefinable emotion. When she rolled off the mattress ten minutes later, there was very little to indicate he had ever been there; her bowls had been washed up and there was no sign of him or his clothing. The thin curtains on the solitary window fluttered in the breeze; she discovered that the pane was slightly open and briefly wondered if he had exited through it, then dismissed the idea. Just because he had cat-like ears doesn't mean he can jump like one.

 

Another realisation brought her up short as she closed the window. I never even asked his name.

 

*