InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Taisho's Darling ❯ The Heart of the City ( Chapter 28 )

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Disclaimer: I don't own these marvelous characters; they are the property of Rumiko Takahashi. I merely torture them at will and put them in uncomfortable situations whenever possible.

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Chapter 28

The Heart of the City

 

……

 

“Now what?” Kikyo whispered, her face pale with fright. Outside the car, the sound of breaking glass and shouting was growing louder. “They've got the streets blocked!”

 

“We get out and walk,” Sango responded as she parked the car in a nearby alley. “Come on,” she urged the miko, “we're wasting time! We need to find my brother and get out of here before things get really ugly!”

 

“Too late,” Kikyo groaned as a cluster of rioters ran by, National Defense soldiers close on their heels. She and Sango ducked into a darkened storefront until the group had passed. “Follow me,” she instructed the pregnant woman. “Kohaku's probably at the old cannery!”

 

The two women made their way through streets black with the smoke of burning buildings, stopping only to hide from passing mobs. Not that it seemed to matter, Sango thought glumly. In all the chaos, no one was paying the two of them any attention; instead, the masses seemed hell-bent on causing the most destruction possible.

 

“You're sure this is the right place?” Sango coughed as they arrived at the abandoned cannery. The acrid stench of burning plastic and heated metal stung her nose, forcing her into another series of coughs. “I can't see much through this haze!”

 

“The Humanistas have been holding their meetings in here for years,” Kikyo choked as she used her powers to break the lock and led Sango inside the building. Tears were streaming from her smoke-reddened eyes. “If Kohaku is fighting Naraku's control, he probably headed this way out of instinct. Maybe I'm wrong, but I can't think of any other place your brother would go!”

 

The heavy iron door clanged shut behind them, muffling the noises from the street. “Kohaku?” Sango called, ignoring the shushing noises Kikyo was making behind her. “Don't be stupid - anyone in here already knows we've entered the building!” she hissed at the miko. “Kohaku?” Sango called out again, trying to adjust her eyes to what little light shone through the windows. “Please answer me!” she begged.

 

Their ears strained to hear a response. From a distant corner came a muffled sob, followed by a mournful voice. “Don't come near me, Sango. I could…I might hurt you again!”

 

The former slayer ignored her brother's request and sprinted toward the voice. “Kohaku - ouch!” She cursed soundly as she bumped her wounded arm against a piece of equipment. “I won't stay away, Kohaku!” Sango stated firmly as she approached the corner where her brother sat.

 

The coppery smell of blood hit her nostrils, making her stomach churn. “What have you done?” Sango cried, dropping to her knees beside her brother's shaking form. In the faint lighting, she could see darkened gashes across Kohaku's wrists. An old cannery knife was lying discarded on the floor nearby.

 

“Sango, it hurts!” her brother sobbed, curling into a ball. “He promised to keep the memories away forever! Why do I see them?”

 

“See who?”

 

“Everyone…everything! All of those people I hurt and killed,” Kohaku whispered. His eyes were shut tight and he began to shake his head back and forth. “I had to do it! He made me do it!”

 

“Naraku made you kill people?” Sango asked, her soul aching for her distraught sibling.

 

“Not Naraku...him! The snake made me hurt them!” Kohaku cried. “I didn't want to do it, but he said he'd kill you and Kaede if I didn't! Their blood is all over me!”

 

His confession startled her. “The snake - Kohaku, are you talking about our first master? The one we had before Inu-Sama? But that was such a long time ago!”

 

“I still hear them screaming,” Kohaku said brokenly. “I see their faces…Sango, I still hear them! Naraku said he'd make me forget, but he lied, Sango! He lied to me!”

 

“Kohaku, it will be all right,” Sango whispered as she wrapped her arms around his scarred body. “Help him!” she pleaded as Kikyo knelt beside them and calmly picked up the bloody knife.

 

“You might not like my way of helping,” the miko told Sango as she cut strips of cloth from Kohaku's shirt and bound his bleeding wrists. Once she was finished, Kikyo placed both hands to the side of Kohaku's head.

 

“What are you doing?” Sango cried as a pink glow appeared around her brother's head and then vanished. Kohaku immediately stopped crying and trembling within her embrace. He stared at her instead, his eyes completely vacant.

 

“I temporarily erased his memories and put him completely under my control,” Kikyo sighed. “Really, I'm no better than Naraku, but I can't think of a better idea at the moment. We've got to get Kohaku back to the mansion so Taisho can take care of him; I'm way out of my league.”

 

They left the cannery, Kohaku allowing them to direct his unresisting form. “Let's get the hell out of here before something else happens,” Sango muttered as they ran down a side street. “Inu-Yasha's going to wring my neck for being here as it is.” She stumbled over a curb, barely catching herself in time. “I swear, this pregnancy has completely taken my sense of balance.”

 

A gasp from Kikyo brought Sango's head up quickly. Standing on the pavement of the shopping district they had entered were two heavily armed human males. Moving quickly, one of them grabbed Sango's hurt arm, causing her to yelp in pain.

 

“Are these two friends of yours, Kohaku?” the taller of the two asked suspiciously.

 

Kohaku remained silent, his eyes blank.

 

“I'm his sister,” Sango said to the man gripping her arm. “Please let us go; my brother's very ill and needs help!” She closed her eyes, trying not to pass out from the pain shooting through her wound.

 

“Isn't this Kagewaki's wife?” the other man asked, advancing upon Kikyo. “Your husband's body was found at your house this morning. His throat had been sliced with a scalpel. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you - doctor?”

 

“Kagewaki isn't dead; that's a shell Naraku left behind!” Kikyo protested. The miko pushed Kohaku behind her and backed against the outside wall of the building. “Don't come any closer!” Kikyo warned, raising her hands protectively. Feeble pink sparks fell from her fingers, and a thin barrier formed around her and Kohaku.

 

“What's the matter, miko?” the man grinned. “Running a little low on energy?”

 

With a sinking heart, Sango realized this was true. Kikyo had probably used a great deal of her spiritual powers while subjugating Kohaku. Even worse, they had attracted a growing crowd. “Don't worry about me; keep that barrier around you and Kohaku until help arrives!” she called out to Kikyo. The miko nodded, her eyes betraying her fright.

 

“Kohaku went out on an assignment a few weeks ago,” the man holding Sango noted. “He was sent to kill the white-haired activist bitch, the one who keeps poking her nose into our affairs. He never returned, and word on the street says the demon wench is still alive! Here is your proof!” he turned to the crowd, gesticulating wildly. “The youkai have taken control of his mind!” His voice grew louder, and he jabbed an accusing finger toward the two women. “Who knows what they're making him do? These two traitors are in the middle of all of it!”

 

Angry voices began to rise from the gathering mob. “Stop agitating them!” Sango spat at her captor. “You're just trying to make them forget all of the violence and death you've caused! I'm Kohaku's sister!” she yelled at the crowd. “I'd never cause him any harm!”

 

“She's lying!” the man next to her crowed, yanking her long hair back and ripping her shirt away from her neck. “This woman bears the mark of a youkai and carries his loathsome spawn!” He shoved Sango forward, twisting her injured arm behind her back and forcing her to her knees before the mob. “She's nothing but a vessel, impregnated to continue their foul race! This is what will happen to your wives and daughters if we allow them to win!”

 

“Not today, they won't!” A woman in the crowd stepped forward, a glass bottle filled with lighter fluid in her hands. Setting fire to the rag stuffed into the neck of the bottle, she held the flaming cocktail aloft. “Death to the youkai!” she yelled, lobbing the bottle through the glass windowpane of a neighboring building.

 

The mob erupted, shouting obscenities. Sango watched in disbelief as the crowd exploded in all directions, smashing windows and setting fire to the storefronts. The entire scene had a surreal, nightmarish quality about it, but Sango knew this was no dream.

 

A new wave of pain shot through the former demon slayer as her captor yanked her to her feet. “Keep an eye on those two; I'm going to teach this slut a lesson!” he called to his companion as he dragged Sango into a nearby alley.

 

“Quit fighting me, whore!” he rasped as she struggled to get away. “You spread your legs for that demon; let's see what you do for a real man!” His heavy hand struck several blows across the back of her head as he shoved her face-down against the filth covering the alley's pavement.

 

Shock caused by a loss of blood was allowing the darkness to invade the edges of her mind, and her vision began to blur. The sound of tearing cloth was accompanied by the rush of cool air across her bare skin. Losing her battle to remain conscious, Sango closed her eyes and uttered a last, desperate cry for her mate.

 

“Inu-Yasha!”

 

……

 

He followed her trail into the inner part of the city, the gnawing worry within him growing at every stop. Inu-Yasha's ears flattened back against his head. The sounds of the rioting bothered his sensitive hearing, but even worse was the roar of his demon blood. He could feel Sango's distress through their shared bond, and the youkai within him stirred loudly, calling to him to protect his mate.

 

Sango had left a path for him to follow, allowing her droplets of blood to guide his nose. As proud as he was over his mate's cunning, though, the realization did little to dampen his fury. What in the hell was she thinking, running headlong into danger like this? The inner city had become a war zone; even with her weak human senses, Sango had to have noticed the flames!

 

Inu-Yasha didn't know exactly what had happened in the kitchen, but his nose had told him enough. Sango's blood had been spilled, and Kohaku's scent was mixed with the blood. Kikyo was in the middle of it as well, a thought that made his chest tighten. He hoped the woman's involvement was innocent. Despite all that had happened between him and Kikyo, Inu-Yasha wanted to believe the miko was on their side, not Naraku's.

 

He followed the trail to an abandoned cannery, then out again to a nearby commerce district, where the streets were in total chaos. Exhausted fire fighters were attempting to dampen burning buildings; soldiers and rioters were battling in alleyways and around corners. Amidst the confusion, looters were ransacking the businesses and attacking any law enforcement officers who happened to be in their way. Given the mood of the surrounding humans, Inu-Yasha figured his best bet was to look like a human. He brought out the disguising spell to cover his demonic features and kept his nose trained on Sango's strengthening scent.

 

Through the haze, he spotted Kikyo and Kohaku. The two were standing behind a barrier, prevented from escaping by an armed human. Before he could rush to their aid, however, a pitiful cry halted his movements.

 

Inu-Yasha!

 

Whirling, he raced to the adjacent alley. The sight that greeted him made him reel, sudden fury causing his disguise to drop. The youkai within clamored for release, and for the first time in centuries, the hanyou relented.

 

The bastard hurting his mate would die.

 

……

 

His body was on fire, flames of pain licking the wounds. Taisho grunted as he stirred to consciousness, the memories of the day assailing his mind. He had to awaken; he had to fight Naraku; he had…he had to help Sango. He had made an unforgivable miscalculation, and now his Brave Darling was hurt.

 

“Be still,” a voice soothed. “Don't try to move just yet.”

 

Taisho's eyes fluttered open to rest upon the face of his Favorite Darling. He was lying on the couch, his head cradled in Kagome's lap, her tiny hands smoothing the bangs from his eyes. “Kagome,” he rasped, his voice a weakened whisper. He struggled to rise. “Sango, my Darling Sango is in trouble…”

 

“Inu-Yasha has gone after her,” his eldest son's rich baritone spoke from his other side. Sesshomaru placed an arm around Taisho's shoulders and helped him sit upright. Although grateful for the assistance, the elder youkai detested the flash of pity in his son's eyes.

 

“I'm not so sure that was such a good idea, either,” Miroku spoke from where he was sitting, a wan-looking Kagura in his lap. “Now we're missing a strong fighter and our most powerful miko - it would be a great time for Naraku to attack. And the look on Inu-Yasha's face…I have concerns about Kohaku's safety.”

 

“What look?” Taisho asked, trying to clear his befuddled senses.

 

“He looked…” Miroku thought for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “He looked like a youkai on the verge of bloodlust. And he had these jagged purple stripes on his cheeks, like yours, Taisho-sama.”

 

“I thought his blood was sealed, Father,” Sesshomaru said sharply, turning to Taisho.

 

“Tetsusaiga acted as the seal,” Taisho informed him. “But he was only a teenager at the time of his last transformation. This shouldn't be happening to a mature hanyou, unless…”

 

“I don't understand,” Kagome broke in. “What's wrong with Inu-Yasha? He's just worried about Sango, right?”

 

“Hanyou blood can be very unstable,” Sesshomaru told her somberly, “especially during adolescence. Sometimes, in times of perceived danger, the demon blood will overwhelm the human blood.”

 

“And the results are rarely pretty,” Taisho interjected. “Tetsusaiga served as a seal to my son's blood through his teenage years. It kept Inu-Yasha from transforming into a mindless, slaughtering beast. When he matured, it was no longer necessary to keep Tetsusaiga by his side.”

 

“So why is this happening now?” Kagome asked.

 

“I have a theory, but without talking to Sango, I can't be sure,” Taisho sighed. “The matter is out of our hands, anyway. We can't allow our strength to be further divided by searching for the others.” He looked around the room. “Where is Kanna?”

 

“Kaede is trying to get her to rest for awhile,” Kagura answered. “She didn't get much sleep last night, and this thing with Kohaku is destroying her.” She leveled an accusing stare at Taisho. “Could you not have prevented this?”

 

The inuyoukai found he couldn't meet the wind witch's hardened gaze. “Perhaps I could have, had I chosen a different path,” he murmured brokenly. “I let him continue, hoping I could find a way to save him.”

 

“Save him? By allowing him to continue as one of the Humanistas? My sister is crying in the other room right now, wondering if Kohaku became her mate for the sole purpose of betraying all of us! You have a strange way of showing concern, Taisho!” Kagura shot back.

 

“Stop it, Kagura!” Kagome rounded on the wind youkai in Taisho's defense. “These were Kohaku's choices, not Taisho-sama's! Don't take your anger out on him!”

 

Kagura was prevented from speaking by the arrival of Jakotsu. “Taisho-sama! Several youkai have assembled around the perimeter of the mansion grounds!”

 

“Strength?”

 

“Lower-level, all of them,” the guard answered. “I think this is the advance party.”

 

“So it begins,” Taisho said heavily as he rose on unsteady legs. “Prepare yourselves for the unexpected,” he warned the others. “Naraku has already demonstrated his fondness for non-traditional battles.”

 

……

 

Terrified screams brought Sango back from the darkness, along with the overwhelming stench of blood. Outside the alleyway, the frightened yells of panicking humans resounded through the smoky haze, bouncing off the walls of the building in a horrifying echo. Sango reached a hand out to push away from the dank concrete, only to snatch it back as her fingers landed in something warm and sticky.

 

Her former attacker was dead, she realized in an instant. The body next to hers had been savaged almost beyond recognition, rendered lifeless by the deep slashes carved through the chest. Sango's years of training as a taijiya recognized the wounds as having been caused by a set of very sharp claws, and fear spiked within her heart. A youkai had done this, and judging from the screams she was hearing, the beast was still raging.

 

A vague part of her brain noticed her torn clothing. Pulling the tattered remains of her shirt against her body, she dizzily crawled to the entrance of the alley and peered around the corner. Almost immediately, she wished she hadn't looked.

 

Through the smoke, she saw the ground spattered with blood and gore. A severed hand still clung tightly to a shiny weapon, the fingers locked in an eternal death-grip. The rest of the body was a short distance from the gruesome sight, the upturned face revealing the second Humanista. Sango's tortured stomach finally rebelled, and she heaved the remains of her breakfast into the corner.

 

A familiar yell crossed her ears, and she dragged her protesting body back to the entrance. The barrier protecting Kikyo and Kohaku was being attacked, the furious youkai shredding at the weakening shield in an attempt to destroy it. Bile rose once again to the back of Sango's throat, and she choked in an effort to keep from screaming.

 

The attacking monster was none other than her mate, Inu-Yasha.

 

……

 

“Master, is the world coming to an end?” Hojo asked, gazing in wonder at the burning buildings and chaos. The fighting was just two blocks away - two blocks! The enslaved human shivered, a mixture of fear and anticipation taking hold of him.

 

“The workings of a riotous mob hardly signify a cataclysmic event,” Onigumo answered calmly, peering around the edge of a dumpster. “The smell of Naraku lingers about this entire affair. He has chosen to strike with his Humanista puppets; one wonders what he truly wishes to obtain. Stay here while I take a closer look, Hojo.”

 

Hojo obeyed, curling into a nook behind the dumpster as soon as his Master left. The smell of garbage was strong, but not as strong as the stench of burning plastic and metal that currently permeated the city air. The human pinched his nose and silently hoped for Onigumo's quick return.

 

After a short time, Hojo recognized the familiar footsteps of his Master and crawled from his hiding place. “There is a situation developing nearby that can definitely be of use to us,” Onigumo spoke quickly as he pulled Hojo along behind him. “Our entry to the Taisho mansion is within reach.”

 

Loud screams, human screams, could be heard as the two of them approached the next street. They slipped into a nearby alley, watching the scene unfolding before them. As he observed the retreating mob, Hojo had cause to rethink Onigumo's previous statement regarding the end of the world. Surely the savage attacks of the youkai raging at the other end of the street qualified as cataclysmic!

 

A blast resounded deep within the building behind them, and they watched as smoke began to pour from the upper windows of the tall structure. “Timed fire detonations, how clever,” Onigumo observed. He roughly tugged Hojo's trembling form into his arms and hooked a manufactured claw beneath his chin, forcing the slave to look up at him. “Hojo,” he breathed intently, “are you prepared to serve me, to complete our quest? Can you do as I bid you, even at the cost of your life?”

 

Hojo found himself lost in the other man's intent stare. Onigumo was his beloved Master, his hated oppressor, his key to Kagome, his…his everything. Long ago, Hojo had realized the awful truth - having Kagome would fulfill his dearest wish, but that wish paled in comparison to his bond with Onigumo. His soul was completely broken; not since that day had he ever again desired freedom from his Master.

 

And now…now his Master was asking him to give everything, to make the ultimate sacrifice. Hojo knew he could not deny Onigumo's request, and he whispered a soft `yes.' As the sharp steel of his Master's artificial claws tore into his body, Hojo looked deep into Onigumo's cruel eyes and found his salvation.

 

His master needed him.

 

……

 

“No!” Sango cried feebly. “Inu-Yasha, stop! Stop!”

 

He didn't seem to hear her; he was too intent on destroying the barrier. Sango staggered to her feet, willing her shaking limbs to carry her just a few steps further. “Inu-Yasha!” she begged. “Please listen to me!”

 

“Get back!” Kikyo yelled at her. “He's transformed; he doesn't know you anymore!” The barrier popped, dropping for a moment before Kikyo managed to restore it. “Didn't you hear me? Get out of here!”

 

Sango's legs gave out on her and she fell to her knees. “Inu-Yasha,” she sobbed, tears coursing down her dirt-stained cheeks. She wrapped her arms around her aching body, shifting the torn clothing in a futile attempt to cover herself. “Please don't hurt them!”

 

She didn't know if he heard her or simply smelled her, but the monster attacking the barrier suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. Turning around, Inu-Yasha slowly moved in her direction, a low, rumbling growl rising from his chest. He snarled, baring elongated fangs, and crouched on the ground before her.

 

Gazing into the blood-red eyes of her mate, Sango discovered that she felt no fear. She'd lived a long life, far longer than a lowly human should have lived. Was it such a terrible thing, to be struck down quickly beneath a demon's claws? At least some part of this particular demon had loved her freely, caressed her with a tender hand and kissed away her sorrows. With a soft whimper of submission, she exposed her bare neck to him and waited for the sharp claws and teeth to tear her apart.

 

The expected blow never came. Instead, warm breath tickled Sango's ear as Inu-Yasha leaned in and snuffled around her neck. Surprised, the former taijiya gave no resistance as the transformed hanyou pushed her gently to the ground, onto her back.

 

Inu-Yasha snarled at her again as he stood on all fours over her body, his expression commanding her to remain quiet. He continued to sniff up and down the path of her body, and a primitive part of Sango suddenly understood that he was checking her injuries. As his nose approached the swell of her stomach, he grew very still. After a moment, he growled, looking up to her eyes.

 

“Mate,” Sango whispered to him, her fingers going to the mark he'd placed upon the crook of her neck. Her sudden movement caused him to bare his fangs at her. Sango ceased her restless motions.

 

“Hanyou's Bitch,” he barked.

 

It was a statement, not a question. He spoke as if the hanyou was a separate being, leaving Sango at a loss. In his transformed state, did Inu-Yasha not recognize himself?

 

Inu-Yasha resumed his perusal of her, nudging her stomach carefully with his nose before slowly making his way back up her body. As he came to her neck, he leaned in close and gave her mark a tentative lick. What Inu-Yasha tasted and smelled must have reassured him, for he gave a soft grunt.

 

“Mine,” he rumbled.

 

“Yes,” Sango breathed. “Yours.” Tears of relief leaked from the corner of her eyes. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips as his rough tongue lapped at the moisture. Inu-Yasha buried his face back into her neck, and she suddenly felt the weight of his body collapse against hers. “Oomph!” Sango gasped as the air was pushed from her lungs. “Inu-Yasha, you're squishing me!”

 

He was unconscious. With the last of her waning strength, Sango rolled to the side to remove herself from beneath her mate's body. As she did so, the shifting wind blew some of the haze from the air and the sunlight broke through to shine on Inu-Yasha's features. A startled cry fell from Sango's lips.

 

The jagged purple stripes were absent from Inu-Yasha's face, leaving behind the dried smears of spattered gore. Also missing were the two furry triangles that normally rested atop his head, as well as the claws that usually adorned the ends of his now-bloodied hands. Sango fingered a lock of ebony hair in confusion. Her hanyou mate had turned completely human - in the middle of the day, no less.

 

……

 

“Bring out your best, Taisho,” Naraku murmured as he directed his army of lower-level demons around the grounds of the mansion. “You can't hide in there forever. Do you really believe I'll wait for the return of your son and that traitorous miko?”

 

Naraku fumed as he paced, thinking of how he'd love to put that bitch to death. He'd kill her slowly, too, enjoying every last bit of her suffering. He had been so certain that he had her under his thumb! And that was where he had been careless, Naraku decided. It had been such a thrill to dominate the woman, to crush her under his heel. Lost in the heady feeling of absolute control, he had neglected to account for her sudden submission.

 

Shaking his head, he banished such unproductive thoughts. Taisho had bested him in that department, but at least he'd had a minor victory with Kohaku's tortured soul. The lad was one human who would never be whole again.

 

“Prepare to attack the mansion,” Naraku ordered his demons. “I wanted to spare the building, but it seems that Taisho has decided to stay indoors.” It was a shame to destroy such a lovely structure, Naraku thought. Perhaps he'd build an apartment complex on the ruins…

 

He was about to give the order to strike when he felt a presence he should not have felt. “This cannot be true,” he breathed, expanding his aura to better feel the surrounding area. It wasn't possible, the man was dead! Pushing further, Naraku tapped into the mind of the human who should not be living.

 

The barriers guarding the man's thoughts parted easily, and he delved into the dark recesses of the human's mind. He took careful note of the overwhelming lust and desire within. All of the human's thoughts were focused on obtaining one goal.

 

A smile broke across Naraku's face as he withdrew the probe. This was too perfect; he couldn't have planned something this wonderful! Throwing his head back in laughter, Naraku couldn't suppress the delight coursing through him. Onigumo was alive - and he wanted one of Taisho's Darlings.

 

Naraku ordered his waiting troops to disband. “Change of plans,” he told them. “We're taking a time-out to add an extra player in this little game.”

 

……

 

“Come on, Sango, just a few more steps,” Kikyo urged the stumbling woman. She tightened her hold around the pregnant woman's waist in an effort to support Sango's sagging weight. “We're almost to the place where we left the car. There's no way I can carry you, Sango, so don't quit on me!”

 

Kohaku plodded behind them, Inu-Yasha's unconscious form slung over his shoulders. The hanyou's weight was almost too much for the human, but Kohaku had somehow managed to carry the load. Kikyo prayed he'd last long enough to get them to safety.

 

“There's someone by the car,” Sango mumbled, raising a shaking arm to point.

 

Kikyo followed her gesture and nearly swallowed her tongue. Lying on the ground next to the vehicle was a bloodied human, and hovering nearby was an older woman, her face etched with fear. It was the lithe figure treating the injured man's wounds that drew Kikyo's attention, however. She knew this man, or rather, she knew his aura.

 

“You are the kitsune -” Kikyo stopped herself in time. Calling out a demon in the middle of this mess was probably not in the best interests of either party. “You're the detective who was at the mansion earlier,” she stated quietly as she approached the vehicle and quickly placed the exhausted Sango inside. Kikyo motioned to Kohaku to set Inu-Yasha into the back seat before kneeling next to the detective.

 

“How do you do this?” she asked, staring at the kitsune's now-human features and flaming red hair. “You seem completely human; I sense no youki within you.”

 

“It appears that you are every bit as powerful a miko as they say you are,” Kurama replied. “There are few indeed who would recognize me in this form. You'll have to forgive me, however, for not wanting to discuss this matter out here in the open.”

 

“Of course,” Kikyo nodded.

 

“Please address me as Kurama while I'm wearing this skin,” the man told her. He directed her attention to the injured human before them. “I found this man crawling away from the fighting, trying to drag himself to safety. I carried him here and wrapped his wounds, but that's the extent of my healing abilities. You are a physician, are you not?”

 

Kikyo had already begun checking the man. “He's stable enough to transport,” she noted, “but he won't last long without proper care.” She paused to think. “The nearest human hospital is over two hours away.”

 

“Can't you treat him yourself?” the older woman standing behind Kurama asked. “The roads through the city have been closed. You'll never make it to the hospital.”

 

“You obviously didn't get the opportunity to see the news reports this morning,” Kikyo sighed. “My clinic has been destroyed.” She rocked back on her heels to study the injured human's face. “He looks familiar.”

 

“Does the name `Hojo' help your memory?” Kurama asked, flipping through the man's billfold and extracting his driver's license.

 

“How did you get to his wallet so quickly?” Kikyo scowled. “I didn't even see your hands move.”

 

“It's a gift,” Kurama replied with a grin. His fox-like expression reminded the miko more than ever of his true kitsune nature. “You haven't answered my question.”

 

“There'd better not be any cash missing from that wallet…let me think…Hojo…oh, wait, now I remember. He works for Taisho,” Kikyo muttered. “Not in the same manner that I work for Taisho,” she pointed out, noting Kurama's surprised expression. “I mean to say, he works for Taisho's company as a junior clerk. I saw him there a few weeks ago, when I had to bring Kagome's son to her.”

 

An explosion rocked the streets behind them, and a light dusting of rubble rained on their heads. “You need to get out of here before the fighting moves to our area,” Kurama spoke to the older woman. “It's just not safe for you to stay here any longer. Kikyo,” he turned to the miko. “Will you take her and Hojo with you?”

 

“What am I supposed to do with them?” Kikyo asked. “In case you haven't noticed, the Taisho mansion is not the safest place to be right now. Naraku's expected to go after Taisho at any time!”

 

“I don't know what you should do with Hojo,” Kurama admitted. “But I need you to deliver this woman to Taisho. He'll know how to help her. Please,” he begged as Kikyo opened her mouth to argue. “Our society is about to undergo a great upheaval. This woman is the mother of my heart, the mother of this human form of mine. If my enemies were to discover her, they would harm her in an instant. She needs to get away - far away.”

 

The woman in question began to cry quietly, and her muffles sobs tore at Kikyo's conscience. “You don't mean you're sending her to the Free Lands?” she whispered. Kurama nodded, and she continued. “You'll never see her again; you know this, don't you?”

 

“Better to know that she is alive and safe than to see her torn apart at the hands of those who hate me,” Kurama responded. “Taisho told me that he knew of a portal. He wouldn't be more specific, but he promised to help.”

 

Kikyo looked from the worried son to the crying mother and made her decision. “Get her and Hojo into the car,” she ordered. “And pray that Naraku hasn't captured the Taisho mansion while we've been tramping through this mess, because that's where I'm taking the both of them.”

 

……

 

A/N: Oh wow…a HUGE thank you to those of you who nominated this fic for the awards over at Single Spark. More than anything, I'm just thrilled to know people enjoy reading this. I love writing fan-fiction, and I'd probably do it full time if I could get away with it.

 

I especially appreciate your patience with the slow updates. My life has not been the same since Hurricane Ivan, and I'm really grateful for the way you guys have stayed with this fic.

 

And as always, thanks to my beta, TitianWren. Without her, I wouldn't have a clue as to what a split infinitive was, nor would I care about my multiple comma splices. She makes the stuff I write a lot easier to read, folks. May her red pen never run dry…

 

- Lavender