InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stealing Heaven ❯ The Victims of Time ( Chapter 14 )

Chapter Fourteen

The Victims of Time

Kagome frowned darkly, ducking this way and that as she tried- apparently in vain- to catch glimpses of what was going on at the new research tent that had been set up through the open entrance way of the mess-tent. It was just so bloody unfair that just thinking about the situation made it difficult for her to see straight.

She was the one to stumble over the find, after all! And it was hardly as though she wanted any part of the actual, proverbial heavy-lifting, but if they would only allow her to actually assist somehow. But noooo . . . . The team's forensics specialist refused to allow the interns to do anything more than catalog any artifacts that might be found amongst the bodies. . . . Bodies . . . ? That was an overstatement- they'd been no more than skeletons, really. If they'd been buried in dry earth, or a more arid environment, the specimens- though Kagome was still getting a grip on thinking of them in such clinical terms- might have been better preserved, but the nutrient rich soil of the cavern, not to mention the moisture of the subterranean surroundings, had instead aided the decomposition of The Thief's sacrifices.

It was what the mournful feeling had been leading her to; the vast-seeming entity hadn't been one, but many smaller voices acting in unison. She'd understood when the first one had been delicately unearthed why they'd recoiled in fear from Nah Rah Ku's host. In the hindsight of lingering here after death, they'd understood that his existence hadn't required the end of theirs, and how foolish they'd been to offer their very lives so readily.

She might have considered it odd that finding the remains of these women didn't make her feel disgusted by her intimate dealings with The Thief, but then she had already known the truth of his previous existence, hadn't she? Perhaps if he had ever made efforts to hide his true nature she would be horrified, but such was simply not the case. The incredible, if markedly morbid, find had only served to solidify the reality she'd already been forced to accept about him.

The discovery of the mass grave had been Kagome's doing and yet she was barely allowed to do anything more important than bring Doctor Hernandez his coffee. She was, of course, deliberately ignoring for the moment that cataloging antiquities was, in fact, a highly important facet of archeological field work. The insinuation that she wasn't capable of more taxing duties was downright insulting.

Sango watched her friend's impatient fidgeting over the rim of her mug for a long moment before giving a long, heavy sigh- grateful they practically alone, as the other interns in the tent were far enough across the enclosed space that they wouldn't be overheard so long as they controlled their voices. "Will you calm down? You've got all the subtlety of a caribou performing Swan Lake right about now."

Kagome hissed out a meager, huffing breath as her little shoulders slumped. "I know, I know. I just . . . can't help it. Doc Hern is being so unreasonable. I mean, assisting is what the interns are here to do, but he acts like we're just a bunch of stupid little kids, skipping about the site, bumbling with everything and knocking things over and stuff. It's . . . it's infuriating!"

"Okay, well," Sango picked a buffalo wing off of the tray they were sharing from and took a thoughtful nibble, giving the taste a nod of approval before continuing. "You have to consider the source. Doc Hern is like, what, eighty?"

Kagome sniggered. "He's like sixty-seven or something. He just looks like he's eighty; too many years in forensic archeology pruned him up under the desert sun, I think."

"Okay, close enough- my point is that to him we probably do seem like just a bunch of little kids messing around."

"Still," Kagome all but growled the word, "it just gets under my skin when people act like they were just born as experts in their field and the rest of us are just . . . sad little morons for having to go through the tedium of learning rather than simply knowing everything like they do." She took a ferocious bite of a buffalo wing and chewed like she was angry at the poor chicken.

Sango's brows shot up into her bangs at the unexpected venom in the girl's voice. "I'm beginning to get the sense that this is about more than just Doc Hern's 'whipper-snapper' rants."

Blue eyes rolled impatiently as Kagome put down the wing and dabbed her fingertips on a napkin. "I . . . look, I know, okay? It's . . ." pausing, she glanced around and then leaned forward over the table a little, dropping her voice even lower than it had already been. "I just feel like I'm . . . like I owe these women something. They died at the hands of the same being- and for the same reason- that has spared my life. That thought just mucks around in my head and it makes me feel obligated to help them."

"You already did. . . . Hello? You found them. Without them 'sensing' that they could reach out to you, they would still be lost."

Kagome allowed a sigh to slip out and settled her chin on her hands atop the table. "I guess, but . . . I just wish I knew if that was enough. If I could just know how close they've come to any determinations, how long it will be before they can actually put those women to rest, the more at ease I would probably feel about this whole thing. I just hate being kept out of the loop like this- a loop I started, thank you very much."

Giving a shrug, Sango reasoned aloud- almost surprised that these things didn't occur to Kagome without nudging. "Well, you're overlooking the easiest way you have to find out about what's going on in that tent."

Kagome's brow furrowed. "Which would be what?"

"Ask Professor Taisho."

"Oh," Kagome went a hint wide-eyed at the idea, feeling a little thrill run through her at the mere mention of his name that was part giddy butterflies in the stomach, part plain old nervousness. "I . . . I guess I could."

"You're shy to be around him now, huh?"

True to her word, Kagome hadn't told Sango about Miroku's botched advances toward her. Even had she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to do it, especially since she couldn't be certain that he'd been in control of his actions, that it wasn't somehow a residual influence of The Thief. She had, instead, offered her friend an edited version of things, that Miroku had only overheard, what she'd eloquently referred to as, the moment of offering and had simply assumed she and the professor to be lovers, though even just the thought of that wording in context to herself and Professor Taisho caused her to blush furiously.

Managing a tiny shrug, Kagome carefully nibbled clean a second wing and set the bone on the side of the tray before replying. "Yeah. I know it probably seems silly, but ever since Miroku told me what he was 'seeing', I guess I have sort of become . . . well, you said it, 'shy' to be alone with the professor."

"Shyer than being alone with him when the sole danger was a lust demon with anger management issues taking control of his body?"

"Just kind of, yeah. I'd thought that finding out he had feelings for me would be like this amazing moment of relief, at the very least, but it just . . ." she frowned thoughtfully, "but it just made everything real. Like I used to be really spectacular at ignoring what I was feeling because I always just thought it was this stupid, one-sided, little girl crush, but knowing that it's more than that- that it could be a lot more than that at some point- makes the idea of being alone with him a little . . . scary."

Sango nodded, falling silent for a long moment as she thought that over. "You realize that if anything goes down between you two, than you risk wrecking what it was your deal with that Nah Rah Ku thing was geared to protect, right?"

"I know . . . I think we're capable of controlling ourselves, but it's just that this . . . shift makes me think what used to be second nature is suddenly going to be this daunting effort. And it's not like I can talk to him about it. If I even tried he'd clam up and pretend like nothing had changed and then things would get all weird and awkward between him and me. If I could, then at least we could come to some . . . mutual decision about how to deal with each other, but not being able to makes me nervous, since I can tell myself he's the paragon of self-restraint until I'm blue in the face, but for all I know it only seems that way to me because his restraint hasn't been tested like this."

"I guess little things like knowing what he looks like naked and that he dreams about- and I am quoting, here- 'fucking your brains out' doesn't help your mind set about this whole thing either."

Kagome coughed out a small, mirthless laugh, feeling her cheeks warm instantly at these reminders. "No kidding."

Sango didn't envy her friend's predicament- even if there were a few details of it that were quite enviable. "Okay, let's think this through, since we still have three and a half more weeks here and it's not like you can avoid dealing with him. So, did you have a problem being around the the professor after you and Nah Rah Ku started doing the naughty-naughties?"

The odd term- though definitely cute- forced Kagome to giggle in spite of herself. "Um, at first I had thought I would, but the more I dealt with him as the professor, the easier it became for me to make the distinction between him and The Thief."

"Okay," Sango nodded, taking a second with this, as well, "then that's the answer. Separate Professor Taisho- minus Nah Rah Ku- into two separate entities. Think of 'Professor Taisho' as that stoic, kind of arrogant guy who's just your mentor, no different from the way you thought of him when we were still on campus. And think of 'Taisho Sesshomaru', whoever he is outside of his PHDs," Sango purposefully used the professor's own words to make her point, "as the man who has these feelings for you. Get this set firmly in your mind and maybe you'll be able to easily feign being comfortable and oblivious around him again."

Kagome furrowed her brow as this thought tumbled around in her head. "That . . . makes sense."

"I know, and the best way to start is by dealing with him just as much as you always do and doing something only you can get away with . . . like asking him what's going on in the forensics unit."

Kagome propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin against her palm as she peered at her friend through narrowed eyes. "You are really good at metaphorically backing me into a corner about things."

"I know," Sango responded with a warm smile as she picked at another wing, "it's part of the whole best friend gig."

* * *

Seated on the ground outside of his tent with his arms linked loosely around his bent legs, Professor Taisho was completely lacking for stoic propriety at the moment as he faced the sun with his eyes closed, merely enjoying the simple warmth of its rays on his cheeks. A shadow fell across the bright, speckled reddish-orange glow behind his eyelids. Of course the rare occasion that he deigned to indulge in a break would be interrupted by someone. Holding in a sigh, he lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the direct light as he opened them . . . and proceeded to sternly tell himself his pulse hadn't picked up speed at the sight of those familiar blue eyes staring down at him.

"Higurashi," he managed in his usual even tone, his voice not betraying that his mind was forcefully pushing away his most recent- and possibly most pulse-racing- dream of her, pushing away the imagined memory of having her spread before him on his desk like that.

Gods, that one had been so very real that if he focused on it enough, he thought he could taste her on his tongue. Don't be so stupid, he scolded himself immediately. He would keep his imaginings to himself, keep them tightly reigned. True, though it was, that more than spending nights fulfilling his decidedly inappropriate dreams, he wanted to feel her curled up against him when he awoke the next morning, but the poor girl would probably be mortified at the things running through his mind just a few minutes ago. He was nearly fifteen years her senior, there was simply no way whatever he'd thought he had seen from her amounted to anything more than a passing infatuation. Nothing could come of it being anything more than that, as it was. It didn't matter that she seemed so perfectly matched to him, that was merely their compatible personalities, nothing more.

"Professor," she said brightly, thankfully helping the man to pull himself into the moment at hand.

Kagome fidgeted a bit in place, telling herself it wasn't any of her business to wonder at the source of the hazed, dreamy look that had been in his eyes a second ago because this was Professor Taisho she was speaking to, not Taisho Sesshomaru. "Can we talk?"

He gave the minimal quirk of a brow and she knew it was at the slightly hopeful note in her voice, before he nodded and flicked his gaze to a patch of dry grass not far from him. She settled herself down carefully, mirroring his position, but facing him so that the toes of her boots almost scraped against his.

"Why do I get the feeling," he began quietly, "you're going to ask me if Doctor Hernandez has found anything definitive yet?"

Kagome's shoulders slumped as she gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "Wow, am I really that transparent?"

"Oh, that's not really the case," Professor Taisho assured her with a shake of his head. "But I'm guessing you feel . . . compelled to keep a tab on the progress because it was you that made the discovery." He offered a barely perceptible nod, then. "It's exactly how I would feel in your place, so it's not difficult to assume."

Kagome cracked a grin. "What happened to the old adage about 'never assume, because it makes an ass out of you and me?'"

His brow furrowed ever so lightly at that. "I am going to pretend you didn't just call the person that controls your grade an ass."

"Well, technically I did call myself one, also," she pointed out.

The professor nodded once more. "Hence why I'm feigning ignorance about it. Do you or don't you want to know what's going on in that tent?"

"Yes, yes," she muttered in a bit of a huff. "Yes, professor. I would like to know if Doctor Hernandez has been able to learn anything, yet. Well," she shrugged in a non-committal fashion, "that is if you can tell me without bending or violating any sort of regulations."

"Yes, because we've all been going completely by the book thus far," he replied with a hint of a grin. "I can, actually, tell you that he has found nothing as of yet."

"Oh," she said slowly, trying- and failing miserably- to keep the cheery expression plastered on her face, "I . . . I see."

Professor Taisho's brows inched upward fractionally. "No, Higurashi, I don't believe you do. I never thought I would need to say this to you, but you aren't thinking hard enough. What does a forensic scientist look for when examining a potential homicide victim?"

Kagome frowned, not really needing to think on that at all. "Cause of death . . . oh my gods," blue eyes lit up instantly, "so the fact that he hasn't found anything actually narrows down what the cause of death could be . . . right?" It was hardly as though she was expecting Doc Hern to find anything so easy to classify- after all, how often were people drained of their very life energy?- but she was interested to know what conclusion would be reached and how soon. The sooner the determination of cause of death, the sooner these womens' remains could be interred.

The professor tapped a finger to the tip of his nose. "Precisely. Thus far, there's been no weapon or tool marks on the bones, no sort of cranial trauma. We're hoping one of the marginally less decomposed specimens- of which, you're already well aware, there aren't many- will be able to shed more light on the matter."

"What theories does Doc Hern have?"

He shrugged once more. "Two possibilities. The first is strangulation."

The professor allowed a moment for her mind to absorb that before her eyes went wide and she gasped at the implication- strangled . . . during their offerings? "So the theory is um . . . erotic asphyxiation . . . gone horribly overboard . . . every time?"

"For all we know, he might have done it with the intent to kill from the very beginning rather than just as a," he gave another shrug, managing to go on without sounding too uncomfortable, "sexual act by itself. The rush of the kill combined with the thrill of sexual gratification. It's a behavior seen with serial killers sometimes, regardless of their time period."

She nodded, trying to remain in a clinical mind-set and ignoring that she already knew that The Thief was so much more than just some run of the mill human psychopath. He was certainly a twisted being, but they seemed determined to vilify him further, still. "And the second theory?"

If Kagome didn't know any better, she could have sworn the professor was relieved by the change of subject. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, now that she understood his feelings toward her, but the acknowledgment of the slight threatened that delicate line she was treading between Professor Taisho and Taisho Sesshomaru.

"Poison," he said simply.

She echoed the word almost dumbly, allowing the possibility to roll around in her head. "How could that be, I mean . . . . Could it really match with the perception of their times of death in the text?"

"Well, it would be a little trickier to pin point, but if Doc Hern rules out everything else, it is the only plausible explanation left. We know The Thief had a priest as his right hand man. Mezzo-American priests, typically, were experts in herbalism in a way that we still don't fully understand. It's entirely possible that he had his sacrifices given a particular poison beforehand and the 'act'- which would have sped up the heart beat and quickened the pulse, thereby forcing the blood to circulate faster- would have appeared as though it was the cause of death. This actually would have perpetuated The Thief's myth."

Something about that caught Kagome's attention, but she couldn't quite figure out exactly what that was, so she pushed it aside for the moment. "I guess that makes sense, since even with the strangulation theory, the cause of death would have the potential of leaving marks on the body that could have aroused suspicion from his followers."

Professor Taisho nodded, trying to ignore that he was experiencing another simple moment of appreciating how well their minds worked together. "It could, possibly, also explain why the priest refused to allow his daughter as a sacrifice, because he would have been partially . . . no, predominantly responsible for killing her."

She nodded in response, the mention making her realize that Lyka had been subdued without Kagome needing to put any extra effort into restraining her. Which was good, it had begun to get tiring. This was a blessed reprieve from their seemingly daily battle. A useless battle, at that, since Kagome always won, but that Lyka was a stubborn thing. Perhaps, Kagome reasoned now, Lyka had tired herself out, as well, and was resting.

"If you think about it," he went on, "it may be the only thing that truly fits. It was The Thief that convinced the girl to kill her father, perhaps then, it was also that The Thief had taken some of the herbs they used on his sacrifices and . . . gave it to her to poison her father."

Kagome managed a nod. Somehow she felt a little . . . hollow. She knew Nah Rah Ku was evil, she knew that while he may not have strangled the life from those women with his bare hands, he had killed while taking his offerings . . . but she knew, also, that Lyka wasn't the innocent victim she was being portrayed as. It felt a little wrong to be so eager to pin everything that had transpired on the demon, but, because she had no way of explaining to Professor Taisho how she knew any of this, she kept her misgivings to herself.

* * *

Her head fell back and she let out a soft little hiccup of sound at the feel of his lips moving in a warm, wet line down her abdomen. Instantly his hand slid upward, fingers covering her mouth. She raised her head to look down at him questioningly.

Crimson eyes crinkled in a grin as he murmured softly, "Not so loud, my Lyka, or someone will hear."

Kagome bolted upright in bed, gasping for air as she blindly darted her gaze around. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness and the awareness of being back in her tent wrapped around her like a security blanket. Slowly, forcefully, she calmed her breathing, trying to make sense of what she'd just been shown.

Obviously it was Lyka and Nah Rah Ku together . . . again. But again was the problem. It wasn't a continuation of, or preamble to, what she had witnessed last time. It couldn't be, the location was different. When before they'd been in his sacrificial chamber, this time they'd been in the jungle . . . he'd had her against a tree on the outskirts of her village.

Kagome's brow furrowed in confusion as she tried to pick this apart. That couldn't be . . . according to the text, Lyka had only been with him when he'd died. So either Lyka, stubborn, annoying . . . potentially a little deranged in her own right, Lyka, was fabricating the image for Kagome's benefit. Or the tale was wrong.

Twisting the already bunched up fabric of her sleeping bag in her hands, she began going over the details of The Thief's story again. As she did, she compounded or took away little bits and pieces with what she'd learned thus far through both her own experience and what their research was revealing. Instantly the point that had snagged in her mind during her discussion with Professor Taisho had become clear to her.

Medicine women were just as common place as priests in Mezzo-American tribes and, for the most part served much the same purpose. As the high priest's daughter, this was what Lyka would have been trained and groomed to become. Blue eyes narrowed suspiciously as Kagome chewed furiously on her lower lip.

If logic and cultural practice dictated that Lyka, too, was an expert herbalist . . . how, then, could she have been so careless as to misjudge the amount of poison needed to kill her father?

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