InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Price ❯ Ties That Bind ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I don't own InuYasha; Rumiko Takahashi and a large publishing conglomerate do.

 

A/N: That's it for reincarnations in this fic; trouble comes in threes, as they say!

 

Bouquets: to my lovely CMAs, Forthright, SilverOnTheRose and Ranuel.

 

Warnings: Violence, coarse language and scantily-clad homicidal hairdressers.

 

The Price

Chapter Four: Ties That Bind

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Kagome let go of Sha's arm, her scent tinted with confusion. “I-i-inuyasha…? Western Lands…? What's she talking about, Mr. Nishiki?”

 

“Tell ya later,” he muttered, protectively sweeping her behind him as he dropped into a crouch. Fuck… didn't intend for her to find out like this, but at least now I can fight without restrictions! “Who the hell are you, bitch? Identify yourself!” he snarled up at their audience, his nose telling him that the woman was definitely a youkai, and a highly dangerous one at that. Dammit! Her jyaki is fucking powerful…but if I can't see her webs, I'm totally screwed!

 

“Such a foul mouth, even for a pedigreed mongrel,” the woman purred, daintily licking the dripping blade as if savouring a delicious treat. “I'm Yura of the Hair, darling. Won't you drop that ugly concealment spell? I much prefer your natural colouring.”

 

“I've heard of you… a nasty little piece of work with a necrophilia fetish,” Sha hissed. “My brother ran you off the Western Lands a couple of centuries ago.”

 

“La… yes, he did. the naughty fellow… such pretty hair, too,” she pouted. “And yes, I do prefer the dead to the living, because they give up their power without a fight… I do so hate to make a mess when I add to my collection.”

 

Sha heard Kagome gulp before she hoarsely whispered, “Those skull tattoos covering her body… they're moving….”

 

“They're trophies from significant kills,” he replied quietly, trying to determine the best way to defeat Yura as quickly as possible. She musta been a handful for Sess, if the best he could do was to chase her off instead of killing her. Raising his voice, he demanded, “What the fuck do you want, Yura?” even though he was positive he already knew the answer.

 

Yura tossed her head and smiled, her ruby-red eyes sparkling with malice. “La… just a token for my collection, darling… and the Shikon-no-Tama, of course!”

 

Behind him, Kagome squeaked and her scent became tainted with fear. “Get your weapons ready, girl,” he ordered, flexing his invisible claws.

 

“Are you finished barking? Good, because hanging about is boring… and when I'm bored, I get cranky.” Yura casually twirled her sword before sending it on a curving trajectory aimed at Kagome. Sha lunged, taking a desperate swipe at the blade but Yura jeered, “Naughty, naughty, little puppy! You shan't spoil my fun!” Manipulating a comb in her left hand, she caught Sha with unseen restraints and dragged him up into the air as the sword reached its target.

 

Kagome threw up her arm in time to protect her head as she turned away from the weapon. It impacted against Sha's jacket with a dull thud that made her cry out and the garment's owner wince. That's gonna leave one helluva bruise! As he tested the invisible strands' tensile strength, he growled as they began burning like hot wires, streaking more blood across his skin and clothing.

 

Gliding through the air towards him, Yura positively beamed at her pinioned prey. “La… once you're dead, I hope that the concealment spell will break, because black is just so common.”

 

Sha's scalp prickled as the youkai tucked her sword under her arm and ran her fingers through his dark hair. “Don't touch me, bitch… I don't want your stink on me!” he snarled defiantly.

 

“Tsk, tsk. Is that any way to talk to a lady?” Yura cooed, then fisted a silky handful and yanked back his head. “With her guard dog out of the way, the Shikon miko is such easy prey that I'm almost ashamed of myself for taking advantage!” Reclaiming her sword, she cheerfully added, “Now, don't move Inuyasha, or your blood will ruin my trophy,” as she lined up the weapon for a killing stroke.

 

A blazing arrow burned a wide path through the strands binding Sha; as he dropped towards the ground, he buried his claws in his injured chest and coated them with blood. “Hijin Kessou!” he shouted, throwing out his arm in a wide arc and sending an array of crescent-shaped red blades whirling through the air towards Yura. One of the bloody blades struck home, severing her sword-arm at the wrist.

 

The youkai blinked as she examined the bleeding stump. “That's not very nice,” she scowled.

 

“Keh. One down, one to go,” Sha growled, assessing his chances for removing her other hand in the same manner. He was briefly distracted by the way the grinning skulls slithered over and under each other on her bared skin, as if jockeying for a better view.

 

Yura arched a dainty brow. “La… you think so? Wishful thinking… oh!” Adroitly dodging another glowing arrow, she grumbled, “That priestess simply must go… after I stop you from interfering.” Sha was again seized by invisible wires and strung up, then dealt a vicious slash across the chest by the sword, which didn't seem any less deadly despite losing its attachment to Yura's body. “So long as I have my hair, I don't need to actually hold my weapon,” she chuckled, then gripped the comb between her teeth. Drawing back her hand, she flung something towards Kagome, who was bravely aiming another missile.

 

The young woman screamed shrilly a moment later as orange flames raced towards her, briefly illuminating an intricate net. As Kagome's spiritual energy collided with Yura's jyaki, there was a fiery explosion that put any Tanabata fireworks display to shame and momentarily blinded the onlookers. When they could see again, they watched Kagome being consumed by a blazing fireball; just before she completely vanished beneath the roiling flames, she let out a frantic scream for help that drove a sharp-edged pang right through Sha's heart.

 

“La, poor puppy. Do you miss your little priestess? You'll be joining her in a few minutes, depending on how quickly you die.” She flexed her fingers and the sword looped around behind him; a foot and a half of bloodied steel immediately protruded from his ribcage. “Pity about her hair, though… how does it feel to be my consolation prize, darling?”

 

Jagged stripes burned into Sha's cheeks through the concealment spell as his eyes turned golden and took on a reddened hue. “Damn you!” he roared, struggling to free himself. Just one hand loose… that's all I need!

 

“Bad dog; behave yourself!” the youkai jeered. Manipulating the comb in her teeth, Yura made another sweeping gesture, sending her captive crashing face-first into the earth. The blade slid free of his body just before impact and returned to Yura's side. “You require discipline, puppy.”

 

Sha gritted his teeth as he worked to free his wrists from the unseen bonds, hiding his movements beneath his injured body, his hands greasy with his own blood. When Yura's dainty feet landed in front of him, he was ready. The squirming fibres began slithering out from under him and he gambled that she intended to pull him upright for a beheading. Giving a passing thought to the fact that he couldn't smell roasting flesh and wondering at the apparent intensity of Yura's fire attack, Sha tensed his muscles. I couldn't protect you, Kagome… but I'll avenge you!

 

Rearing up onto his knees, Sha drove his claws right through Yura's chest, causing her sword to bite into his shoulder instead of his neck. The skulls covering her skin rushed to cluster around the wound, appearing to gibber soundless objections… or perhaps they were pleading for rescue from their fleshy prison. Then he noticed that Yura was livid with fury instead of dead.

 

“Animal!” she hissed, jerking free and standing over Sha, completely unconcerned that there was a gaping hole through the centre of her ample bosom. Smirking triumphantly at his stunned expression, she crowed, “Do you understand now, stupid dog? I'm immortal; a puny hanyou like you couldn't ever hope to injure a full youkai like me.”

 

Sha sneered right back before snarling, “Hijin Kessou!” The small red blades, restricted in size by his limited wrist action, whirled in a tight, deadly pattern and succeeded in removing Yura's remaining hand. He grabbed for the comb, but her sword and hair webs were quicker. The weapon buried itself up to the hilt in his chest and coupled with the strands wound around his wrists and ankles, it forced him over backwards. As soon as he was spread-eagled, the blade withdrew and began plunging repeatedly into his vulnerable belly.

 

“I'll mince your liver,” Yura promised, her red eyes gleaming with murderous satisfaction as she watched the churning sword.

 

Sha clenched his teeth, determined to not give the bitch any satisfaction and tried to think around the searing pain. Without any response, Yura quickly grew bored with torturing her victim and made a gesture with her dripping stump; the sword pulled out with a nasty squelching noise to hover just above his head. “It's time to offer me your neck, Inuyasha,” she cooed in a saccharine tone as the sword angled itself upward… just before she screamed.

 

The youkai was briefly illuminated by brilliant pink light before she simply dissolved into dust motes, an expression of complete incomprehension on her face. Her blade clattered among the rocks a little too close to his neck, but he hurt too much to care, even when another powerful burst of purification power went off nearby. However, when a sobbing young woman fell to her knees at his side, he summoned the energy to raise his head.

 

Kagome's face was averted and her hands were tightly clenched on her thighs, but Sha had no trouble smelling her tears above the sharp scent of his own blood. “Oi… what's wrong?” he rasped, hating the way his voice sounded so weak. “Are you all right?”

 

“I'm sorry!” she blurted out, finally giving him a glimpse of her dirt-smudged, tear-streaked face just before she bowed her head. “Please… forgive me!”

 

“F-forgive you? Wh-what the hell for?” he retorted, completely baffled. Any other protests died on his lips when Kagome seized his blood-smeared hand in both of hers and held on tight.

 

“If you hadn't given me your jacket, you wouldn't be so badly hurt!”

 

He rolled his eyes, about the only part of him that didn't hurt. “And if I hadn't given you my jacket, you'd be dead right now.”

 

She continued to apply liberal coats of guilt. “I-I couldn't draw a bead on that darn red skull! If only I'd tried harder…”

 

Sha jerked himself out of contemplating how warm her hands were in time to ask, “Wait… what? A red skull?”

 

Kagome's voice became scarcely more than a whisper. “It was this small red skull, about the size of one of Mom's botamochi. It kept appearing and disappearing all over her body; when you drove your hand through her chest, it vanished.” She inhaled a deep, shaky breath. “It wasn't until she was… hurting you that I was able to target it, because it stayed in plain sight up on her shoulder. I… I'm so sorry, Mr. Nishiki…”

 

“Inuyasha,” he quietly corrected. “My real name is Inuyasha.” He half expected her to drop his hand and retreat; he didn't expect her to begin lightly sweeping her thumb over his bloody knuckles in a soothing manner. Confused by her apparent acceptance, he roughly asked, “Don't you get it? I'm a …”

 

“Youkai?” she finished. “Yeah… the sword-through-the-chest-thing made it kinda obvious that you're not exactly an ordinary human.” Sha managed a weak snort as he grimaced at the taste of blood in the back of his throat; she noticed his expression and guessed at the reason. Letting go with one hand, she began working her arm under his shoulders. “Can you sit up? We should move you out of here… since calling an ambulance isn't really an option.”

 

“I just need to rest for a bit and I'll be fine…”

 

“You've lost a lot of blood; I don't know a thing about youkai physiology, but I imagine that it will take some time to regenerate that amount,” she briskly replied. “Let's go.” Pulling determinedly, she made it clear she wasn't going to back off, so he grudging let her help him into a sitting position.

 

“Has anyone ever told you that you're a bossy wench?” he grumbled, trying to not clutch his shredded abdominal muscles or whimper pathetically.

 

She chuckled. “Only once or twice.” Muttering a few epithets for appearance's sake, he allowed her to assist him to his feet; once upright, he swayed dangerously as black spots pirouetted through his vision and he only put up token resistance when she ducked under his arm. “Nice and easy,” Kagome murmured, and they slowly made their way back towards the fence, leaving behind a sword draped in ragged scraps of ash-streaked fabric.

 

During one of their frequent stops for Sha to catch his breath while pretending not to, he abruptly asked, “How did you manage to survive being fried?”

 

Kagome gave him a puzzled look. “Your jacket, I assume. I curled up on the ground and pulled it tight around me; it seemed to filter the heat and gases so that I could breathe. It was scorching hot, but only for a short while.”

 

He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. “The leather is dragon and the lining is woven from fire-rat fur; it's stronger than any armour.”

 

“Dragon? Really? Cool!” she exclaimed, then curiously asked, “Um… what does a fire-rat look like?”

 

“Like a regular rat… but Akita-sized… would rather bite you than look at you… makes shearing them a real challenge.”

 

“They're sheared… like sheep?” He nodded just before coughing up a quantity of bright red fluid; as he wiped off his hand on his ruined shirt, Kagome worriedly probed the bubbling wound. “I think you have a perforated lung…”

 

“No shit? Only one?” Sha grated, hating the fact that he had to heavily lean on her to keep his balance. If another opponent showed up right now, we'd both be fucking toast! However, they made it to the fence without further incident; Kagome temporarily shucked his jacket and her quiver to slide between the crossbars while he clung to one of the posts, trying to make it look like he was holding it up and not the other way around. Bending double to repeat her manoeuvre was easy; straightening afterwards was not. “Goddamnmotherfuckingsonofamotherfucki ngbitch!”

 

Kagome ignored both his language and his obvious frustration to quickly draw his arm back over her shoulders. As she urged him forward, he would've jerked away with a snarl if he could… but the truth was that if she let go, he'd fall over. Fucking useless… some fucking-ass protector I am!

 

“It's all right… I'm here…” she murmured, probably intending to be reassuring.

 

“What fucking good is that?” he demanded petulantly, fighting down the urge to vomit and losing quite spectacularly. He ended up practically clinging to her, gasping helplessly against her shoulder while cold sweat thoroughly chilled his battered body. “A helpless human and a useless hanyou… aren't we a fucking perfect pair?”

 

“Didn't you say that we're in this together?” she said calmly, producing a tissue and carefully wiping his mouth.

 

“Right up to our fucking necks,” he muttered, swaying badly. Reluctantly permitting her touch, he was afraid to admit how comforting it felt to be fussed over.

 

Kagome shoved the tissue into her pocket and wrapped her arm firmly around his waist. “We're almost there… do you want to call someone?”

 

He considered phoning his brother and almost instantly decided against it to spare himself the derision for coming to such a pass. “No. I just need to sit somewhere quiet and I'll be as good as new in no time.” Kagome's arched eyebrow conveyed her scepticism, but she said nothing as they wobbled across the courtyard to the house. Taking much of his weight, she eased him down to sitting and made sure he was propped securely against the wall, then covered him with his jacket.

 

“I'll be back in a minute; don't you dare take off, Mr. Nishiki!” she admonished before disappearing around the corner; he heard the foyer door clatter open.

 

Leaning his head back against the siding, he allowed himself to acknowledge the pain with a deep groan… now that he didn't have an audience. This is just fucking wonderful. Turning his head, he stared longingly at his motorcycle, the last rays of pale afternoon light catching and gilding the distinctive floral crest on the gas tank. Attempting to tighten his slashed abdominal muscles, he admitted defeat. There's no fucking way I can ride in this condition… dammit!

 

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With the medical case in her hands, Kagome made it as far as the foyer door before she was busted. “Is something wrong, dear?” Mrs. Higurashi asked as she poked her head out of Grandpa's room.

 

Hiding the case behind her back and thankful that she'd remembered to check her clothing for difficult-to-explain stains as well as wash her hands, Kagome continued edging towards the door as she answered, “Um, Mr. Nishiki had a little mishap…”

 

“Oh! What happened? You didn't… shoot him with an arrow, did you?”

 

“Mo-ther!” she protested, then lowered her voice. “He, er, threw up all over himself.” That's not entirely untrue… he did vomit!

 

“My goodness! He must have caught the same virus that you had! Bring him inside and I'll make up a futon for him in the tatami room,” Mrs. Higurashi declared in a tone that combined motherly concern with don't-argue-with-me firmness.

 

“I, er, have to help him clean up first…”

 

“The poor dear; I'll bring a bucket of hot water and some towels… be right back!” As her mother bustled off, Kagome breathed a sigh of relief and shot outside with the medical case. Sha was where she left him, his eyes closed and his jaw clenched; he cracked an eye when she set down the case.

 

“Back in a sec,” she assured, flashing him a smile before darting back around the corner.

 

Inside, she took custody of a bucket with a sponge floating amongst the steam and an armload of towels. “Does Mr. Nishiki need a change of clothes?” Mrs. Higurashi asked.

 

Kagome floundered for a moment until her eye fell on the bag tucked next to the shoe rack. “Pass me that bag; lucky he returned my sweatshirt today!” As her mother looped the plastic handles over her fingers, Kagome added, “Um… please don't come out to help, Mom. He's really embarrassed.”

 

“Of course, but don't let him leave; he's obviously in no condition to be dashing about on that motorcycle.”

 

“I won't… I'd, um, better get on with it…” She dawdled until she was sure that her mother was on her way towards the storage closet before heading outside. Dropping off her load next to Sha, she nipped back around the corner to firmly close the outer door. It'll give us a second or two to spare if she does decide to come outside anyhow.

 

Her patient looked quite pale in contrast to his usual healthy hue, his eyes squeezed tightly shut; considering how best to proceed while damping down on her nerves, Kagome briskly clapped her hands. “All right, let's clean you up and bandage your wounds.”

 

“I just need a couple of hours…” he feebly protested.

 

“A couple of days, more like,” she retorted, removing his jacket and setting to work. Cutting away his blood-soaked t-shirt, she again was amazed by his incredible rate of healing; the criss-crossing marks caused by Yura's hair were almost invisible. With a towel in one hand and the wet sponge in the other, she carefully cleaned his chest. While she worked, her attention was once again drawn to the unusual necklace Sha wore. I suppose he thinks that magatama makes him look tough. Well, he is pretty tough, come to think of it. The sword perforations were one thing, but where Yura had tried to turn his internals into mincemeat was something else. Kagome swallowed hard as she looked him over. I guess that this is good practice for when I'm doing my residency. Nothing for it; had better wash these out with saline, then stitch up what I can, and tape some gauze pads over everything. Don't care how fast he heals… he can't walk around oozing blood if Mom's set on keeping him here for the next few hours.

 

“I'll be fucking okay, dammit,” Sha roused himself enough to mumble half-heartedly when she squirted saline into the wound on his abdomen. Kagome ignored him and continued patching him up, even coercing him into leaning forward so that she could work on his back. Finishing up with a couple rolls of gauze wrapped securely around his middle to keep everything in place, she allowed him to sit back while she cleaned the blood off his arms and hands. Tucking the jacket around the rest of him, she briefly soaked his bloodied hand in the bucket while wiping off his arm, startling a little when Sha slurred, “Howd'ya know you're safe with me?”

 

She continued her work as she considered her reply. “I figure that if you were after the Jewel, you'd have taken advantage of Mistress Centipede's attack.” He snorted weakly, but his body remained relaxed under her touch as she carefully dried his hand… and discovered the existence of invisible claws tipping his long fingers. That explains how he was able to take chunks out of Mistress Centipede and cut the hair holding Grandpa. Conscious of slight tremors wracking his frame, she tucked his bare arm and hand back under his jacket and moved both the bucket and herself to reach his other arm. Quickly sponging him down, she asked, “You called yourself a hanyou… what are you half of?”

 

“C-can't f-figure it out from m-my n-name?” he wheezed as the tremors became full-fledged shivers.

 

Moving quickly because he appeared to be going into shock, Kagome turned his hint over in her mind. “You're half dog-youkai?” she finally ventured. He might have nodded… or slumped, she wasn't quite sure… so she figured it was time to conceal the bandages and move him into the house. Extracting the bright yellow sweatshirt from the bag, she gathered the material prior to centring the neckband on the top of his head and carefully stretching the ribbed edging as she pulled downward.

 

“Owww… dammit, girl, watch the ears!” came a testy growl from beneath the fabric. Kagome gently ran her fingers over his head, intending to ease the neckline away from his obviously tender appendages… until she encountered something in the wrong place, something thick, velvety and invisible that flattened irritably under her touch. Intrigued, she gently probed until she located a madly-flickering triangle; when Sha drew in a sharp breath, she assumed that he intended to protest, so she left off searching for the second canine ear and settled the garment around his neck. He dredged up a narrow look, which she ignored in favour of guiding his arms into the sleeves.

 

“I'm not a fucking invalid,” he grumped as she smoothed the sweatshirt down over his bandaged torso and tugged his hair out of the neckline, but he didn't attempt to take over dressing himself. Kagome cleaned up the medical case, then stuffed the packaging and the remains of his bloodied t-shirt into the plastic bag. Hiding the case under the towels and the bag under his jacket, she took the bucket of pink-stained water across the courtyard and sluiced away the bloody vomit. Jogging back to his side, Kagome briefly detoured to retrieve the spade wielded by her grandfather, then dropped both it and the bucket next to her reluctant patient.

 

“Mom's set up a futon for you, so let's go before she comes looking for us,” she said as she again pulled his arm across her shoulders. Sha muttered something but complied, the pained grimace on his face saying it all. They awkwardly made their way around the corner of the house to the door. Kagome shoved the panel open and guided him inside, but not before she tugged down the sweatshirt to cover the stained waistband of his jeans. While supporting most of his weight as he fumbled out of his boots, she noticed the fine sheen of sweat covering his face.

 

“I gotta puke,” he mumbled.

 

“Not in here, you don't,” she hastily ordered. “The toilet's only ten feet away, so hold it in!” Expert manoeuvring borne of desperation brought them to their goal just in time. Sha fell to his knees, retching helplessly as the water in the bowl turned crimson. Kagome locked the door and held his hair out of the way as he repeatedly heaved, rubbing his shoulders and flushing away the evidence every so often.

 

“Kagome? How is Mr. Nishiki doing?” Mrs. Higurashi called through the panel.

 

“Not very good, Mom. Is the futon ready?” the young woman answered, ignoring Sha's plaintive noise of protest.

 

“Yes; do you need help in putting him to bed?”

 

Kagome eyed the blood clots floating in the toilet bowl. “No. I can manage, but thanks anyways.” Using a wad of toilet paper, she carefully wiped Sha's lips, since he was hanging onto the sides of the bowl for dear life. “Let me know when you feel well enough to move,” she whispered.

 

“Water,” he croaked. “Need to rinse my mouth.” Dropping the wad of paper into the bowl and adding the tissues stashed in her pocket, Kagome turned to fill her grandfather's denture glass at the sink, then steadied Sha's grip while he gargled and spat several times. Rinsing and replacing the glass on the shelf under the mirror, she waited until he nodded. “Okay… think I can handle it now.”

 

Flushing the toilet one last time, she assisted him to his feet. Sha swayed dangerously, but Kagome managed to move him out of the room, down the hall and into the tatami room, where a futon had been laid out in the corner next to the wall niche. He considered protesting on principle, but instead simply admitted that lying down was a better idea than stubbornly remaining vertical and then doing a face-plant in front of her mother. Kagome helped him to kneel, and then he simply rolled onto the mattress.

 

Sweeping his hair aside, she tucked a pillow under his head and draped a blanket over him. “Jeans off; I'll wash them so the blood doesn't stain.” With several oaths and mumbled complaints, he squirmed free of the close-fitting denim; she quickly rolled them into a ball with the waistband on the inside. “I'll watch over you,” she promised; Sha's eyes slid shut before he could muster a retort.

 

Mrs. Higurashi tip-toed into the room as Kagome stood up. “Help me move the privacy screens into place,” she requested, and in short order, the sleeping man's futon was enclosed on three sides by hanging panels of gaily patterned fabric. The two women slipped out into the kitchen, closing the shoji behind them.

 

“I need to finish cleaning up outside… how's Grandpa?”

 

“Sleeping, like your Mr. Nishiki. I'll make us some tea; too much excitement for one day!” Mrs. Higurashi declared.

 

You have no idea, Mom! Kagome stifled a mad urge to giggle, instead excusing herself to stuff Sha's stained jeans into the washing machine and then escaping outside. I can smuggle the medical case under the towels… but what about his shirt? Biting her lip, she glanced around until her eye fell on the storage shed. Perfect! Extracting the bag from under Sha's jacket, she compacted it as much as possible while crossing the courtyard, then straightened the paint can she'd knocked over earlier and stuffed the rustling plastic down behind it. I'll use the excuse of putting away the archery butt to hide it in the trash can down by the bus stop. Running back for the spade, she replaced it on its hanger, then closed the shed. Briefly detouring to make sure all traces of blood were indeed gone from the pavement, she loped back towards the house.

 

Shaking out Sha's jacket, Kagome inspected the garment for blood stains and was rather surprised when she discovered absolutely none on either the exterior nor on the bright red lining. That's bizarre! Then she noticed a slight depression in the heavy leather on one shoulder, and clearly remembered a centipede-youkai's fang piercing the hanyou's body. Does his clothing repair and clean itself? Cool! A tiny enamelled pin fastened to the collar lining caught her attention; peering closely, she made out a dark blue hexagonal crest featuring a white flower with six petals. Wonder what this represents? Using the jacket to conceal the pink-stained towels and the medical case, she scooped the whole works under one arm, then hefted the bucket and sponge in the other hand. Lugging the entire load into the house, she had another piece of luck when she discovered that her mother had gone down the hall to check on Grandpa. Quickly replacing the medical kit under the sink, she then loaded the stained towels into the washing machine on top of Sha's jeans. Setting it to sloshing, she pretended to sponge down Sha's jacket for her mother's benefit. Dragon hide and fire-rat fur, huh? Neat; I wonder what other cool stuff he has?

 

Taking the garment with her, Kagome slipped through the shoji to place it on the foot of the futon just inside the hanging screens surrounding Sha's makeshift bed. She watched the even rise and fall of his chest for a few moments before admiring his sleep-softened face. He lost so much blood; his physiology is amazing. There's a thesis in there somewhere… Retreating from the tatami room back into the kitchen, she pulled the tea pot and canister out of the cupboard.

 

Mrs. Higurashi rejoined her daughter just as the steam began to wisp out of the kettle. As she retrieved cups from the cupboard, she commented, “It's strange, but I feel like I know Mr. Nishiki from somewhere.”

 

“Maybe because he's been hanging around the shrine so much lately?” Kagome suggested, eyeing the covered plate of botamochi on the counter.

 

“Possibly,” she acknowledged, then followed her daughter's glance. “Uh-uh, young lady. Sota gets first dibs on those; he's always starving after kenjutsu practice.” Kagome tucked her hands in her pockets to avoid temptation and moved to sit at the kitchen table. “I'm going to make Grandpa some ochazuke… do you think Mr. Nishiki might care for a bowl?”

 

Kagome thought about the way Sha's abdomen had resembled raw chopped beef, not to mention his bloody vomit and quickly said, “We'll have to wait until he wakes up; his stomach's kinda tender, I think.”

 

“Hmmm… maybe just a bowl of dashi, then…”

 

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Sota cleared the last step and leaned against the red support pillar of the torii gate, sucking air into his lungs. Argh. You'd think after a few months of running up and down these stairs, I'd be in better shape! The lanky teen blew out his cheeks and pushed off, adjusting the criss-crossing straps of his satchel and gear bag. I'll cut myself some slack for the extra weight. While crossing the courtyard in the gathering dusk, he noticed a familiar motorcycle and grinned. Mr. Nishiki's setting himself up for `the talk' with Gramps; better make sure that Sis has warned him! Chuckling, Sota continued for several more steps until he glimpsed several gardening implements scattered across the ground not far from the motorcycle. That's not like Gramps to leave his stuff lying around. Scooping up the broom and trowels, he headed off towards the storage shed behind the house, only to come up short. Crap… something must have happened! Sis never leaves her archery equipment out… not with her arrows still in it!

 

Moving with a sense of urgency, Sota pulled open the doors of the shed and hastily stacked the gardening tools inside before retrieving the archery butt. Removing Kagome's arrows next to the shed, he wrestled the straw-filled drum into the building, quickly followed by its stand. As he closed the shed, his eye was caught by a flash of bright white. Frowning, he identified the handle of a plastic shopping bag flopping like a rabbit's ear in the evening breeze. Snagging the bobbing film, he peered inside… and froze. Holy gods… what the hell? Gingerly extracting the blood-soaked, shredded fabric, he tentatively identified it as a t-shirt, and the label pointed at the young antiques dealer as the garment's owner. Sota tried to puzzle out a scenario that ended with Sha Nishiki's bloodied clothing hidden in the storage shed that didn't involve someone in his family facing a murder charge and completely failed. Balling up the t-shirt in its bag, he shoved it inside his coat and closed the shed, then scooped the loose arrows and headed for the house.

 

Inside, he'd barely removed his shoes when his mother arrived in the inner doorway. “Welcome home, Sota; may I take your satchel?” As he handed over the leather bag full of books, she added, “Grandpa is ill and so is Mr. Nishiki, so try to be quiet. Come into the kitchen when you've changed out of your uniform.”

 

“Sure, Mom,” he replied, even more curious about the story behind the stray clothing hidden inside his coat. Peeking into his grandfather's bedroom on the way down the hall to his room, he was relieved to see the old man snoring peacefully, a tray containing a covered soup bowl and a tea cup next to his futon hinting at Mrs. Higurashi's nursing efforts. Shedding his gear bag and coat inside his room, he hid the plastic bag inside the top drawer of his bureau and changed out of his school uniform. I'll check out the lay of the land before I start asking questions; there's more to this than meets the eye. Joining his mother and sister in the kitchen, he handed over Kagome's arrows. “I put away your target, too,” he said, keenly noting her reaction, which verged on dismayed.

 

“Oh! Thanks, Sota. I, er, forgot about it in all the, um, excitement,” she replied, and darted out of the room, presumably returning them to her quiver.

 

He happily munched through most of the plate of botamochi and downed three cups of tea, but allowed Kagome to have the last kurogoma-coated treat. All the while he watched both women for clues as to what may have transpired, but all he got out of his mother was that both Grandpa and Mr. Nishiki appeared to have been struck down by the same virus that had previously laid low his sister. Mom is completely clueless about any blood being spilled, so that leaves Sis; she's letting Mom do all the talking… which is pretty suspicious! “Were there any unusual symptoms?” he finally asked, directing his question at Kagome.

 

“Er…what?”

 

“C'mon, Dr. Higurashi… could their symptoms be considered normal?” .

 

“N-normal?” she finally squeaked. “Aside from the vomiting and fainting?”

 

“So, no spitting blood or anything like that?” he blandly queried, amused by her deer-in-the-headlights expression.

 

“Oh, Sota! How can you suggest such a horrid thing?” Mrs. Higurashi protested. “It's a regular garden-variety stomach upset; you know how quickly Kagome recovered from it.” She paused, giving the teen an appraising once-over. “In fact, you'd better take care, because you and I are probably next in line to come down with it. Let me know if you start feeling poorly.”

 

He nodded as he shot a sharp glance at his sister, who was fairly worrying the buttons off her cuff as she stared into her teacup. You're off the hook for now, Sis, but we're having a chat before this night is over. At that moment, Buyo began winding herself around his ankles, mewing loudly for attention, so he allowed himself to be distracted in favour of rubbing the cat's furry tummy while the dinner menu was discussed.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

Sha slowly surfaced from the first deep, restful sleep he'd had in a very, very long time. His subconscious had kept track of the Higurashi household… he hoped… but the rest of his brain had completely shut down. Probably due to blood loss. Breathing deeply, he detected not only the distinctive scents of the various Higurashi family members, but also the aromas of steamed rice, stir-fried vegetables, grilled fish and black tea; when his stomach didn't growl in response, he decided that his healing wasn't quite complete. Opening his eyes to the dim light of an electric torch, Sha guessed that the food smells were several hours old, as it appeared to be the middle of the night. Shit. I've been out for fucking hours! Who knows what else might have shown up? Inhaling again to search for danger, this time he noticed a delicate scent, so familiar that he had ignored it the first time. This girl and her talent for sneaking under my defences…

 

At that same moment, the owner of the scent sighed deeply, and a weight came to rest on his hip. He held very still while Kagome made herself comfortable; after she ceased moving around, he cautiously raised his head. Kagome was asleep, half-on and half-off his futon, dressed in her pink kitten pyjamas with a dozen arrows bristling from the quiver strapped to her shoulder. A crooked smile crossed Sha's lips as he bunched the pillow under his head to maintain his view of the young woman. As he studied her sleeping countenance, he indulged himself by gently feathering her bangs away from her face, the soft tresses cool between his fingers. So alike, and yet so completely different; why did the gods give you a dead woman's face, Kagome Higurashi?

 

He tenderly swept his thumb across her cheek; she sighed and nuzzled into his palm, a small smile on her lips. Sha's chest became painfully tight. She carries Kikyo's soul; Kikyo, who died because she loved me…. “I'll protect you, Kagome,” he whispered, then snatched his hand back as the red-faced young woman abruptly sat up, her dark hair tumbling attractively over her shoulders.

 

“I, er, don't know what happened; one minute I was staring at the hanging screens and the next…” she admitted, clearly flustered.

 

“It's fine, Miss Higurashi,” he soothed.

 

There was a brief, awkward moment of silence before Kagome asked, “Are you hungry or thirsty?”

 

“I don't think my internals have healed enough for that,” Sha replied and she nodded. As she fiddled with her bow, he noted that she wore fuzzy pink slippers to go with the pyjamas. “I'd like to sit up, though; a change in position would be appreciated.”

 

“I'll grab some pillows,” she quickly agreed and disappeared outside the screens, returning in a few moments with an armload of floor cushions. Since he was already close to the wall, it was relatively easy to push himself up on his elbows while Kagome stuffed the cushions in behind to support his back… after she checked him for `leaks', that is. His abdominals complained, but that was a good sign because it meant they were knitting back together.

 

Kagome cocked her head, inspecting him carefully. “I thought I was seeing things earlier, before Yura showed up… but when I saw her sword and then her, I realized…”

 

“What did you see?”

 

Her hand described elegant arcs. “You kinda… glow.”

 

“That's my youki; anyone with youkai blood emanates their power in a visible way.”

 

“Seriously? Do different types of youkai have different colours?”

 

“Colours…?”

 

She smiled impishly and answered his unspoken question. “Your youki is pale red right now; when you were fighting Yura, it was bright scarlet. Her sword had a really deep brownish-red tone, and her youki was so dark it was almost black.”

 

“Dark energy like that is called jyaki; you ever see anyone with that shade, get the hell out of range as fast as you can!” Shifting into a more comfortable position, he quietly asked, “Do you want to see what I really look like?” Kagome's eyes grew wide and she nodded rapidly; Sha slid his finger under the neckline of the yellow sweatshirt and pulled out his necklace. “This anchors my concealment spell. Can you reach the clasp for me? It's one of those slide-knot jobs, and if I try to loosen it, you'll probably have to patch me up again.” The young woman set her bow aside and fearlessly reached… then blushed furiously when she realized that she practically had to wrap her arms around his neck to accomplish her goal.

 

“Not very easy to remove,” she muttered, working the thick leather cord through her fingertips and trying not to put any weight on his shoulders in order to keep her balance.

 

“It isn't supposed to come off,” he pointed out. To prevent her from falling into his lap when she wobbled, he circled her waist with his hands. Expecting to grip soft flannel, instead his fingers found warm skin above her pyjama bottoms. She shivered lightly, but her scent remained free of fear, even when he knew she must be able to feel his claws lightly pressing against her skin. “Are you all right with this?”

 

“Uh-huh,” Kagome replied, resolutely ignoring the way her stomach filled with butterflies just from Sha's proximity, never mind his touch. “Just a little more… there.” Lightly tugging on the fang-like magatama to make sure the cord was fully extended, she let it drop onto the centre of his chest and sat back on her heels.

 

However, he didn't release his hold. “Over the head,” he directed. “Just watch the ears.”

 

“Er, right.” Stretching upwards, highly conscious of the strong hands supporting her, Kagome lifted the necklace over Sha's head and down the length of his hair as he sat forward slightly to accommodate her.

 

Reluctantly dropping his hands, he heard her sharp intake of breath, which he expected, but the change in her scent took him off-guard; unless his nose badly misled him, Kagome found his true form extremely appealing. Peering through his lashes, he couldn't help but snicker at the rapt expression on her face as she followed the rapid movements of his canine ears. What is it with human girls and my ears, anyways? Rin was fascinated too. The sound brought her attention down to his face, and she met his now-amber gaze without flinching… plus a mischievous twinkle.

 

“Don't take this the wrong way, but I have to agree with Yura; I prefer your natural colouring,” she grinned. Sha shook his head in mock-disgust and she giggled, frankly admiring the thick silver mane flowing over his shoulders and pooling on the bedding before her gaze again strayed to the top of his head. “My mom thought that you were handsome before, but she'd adore your ears!” Her fingers fairly itched to touch those appealing velvety appendages, but instead she folded her hands in her lap and just looked. “Your youki is now bright red; I guess your concealment spell changes the intensity of the colour,” she commented.

 

Sha kept track of her impressions through her ever-shifting scent, but he didn't really have to rely on his sense of smell; her face was an honest reflection of her lively interest. He was enjoying being the centre of her attention so much, that he almost missed the way the hanging panels rippled and a scent that had been in the background suddenly asserted itself.

 

“Youkai blood explains why I wasn't asked to hide the body,” Sota said calmly as he stepped inside the hanging screens, a white plastic bag dangling from his fingertips.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

A/N: Hijin Kessou = Blades of Blood; Inuyasha's secondary claw-strike utilizing his own blood as a weapon.

 

Tanabata - one of the major summer festivals of Japan, which features lanterns, wishes, food and fun.

 

Magatama - the comma-shaped white beads on Canon!Inuyasha's rosary that resemble fangs. The shape references the sacred Imperial Jewel that mystically links the Imperial family to the gods of Japan (along with a sword and a mirror)

 

Ochazuke - comfort food, Japanese style. Hot black tea is mixed with a little dashi (bonito stock) and poured over a bowl of leftover rice, which is then topped with shredded chicken/smoked eel/salmon/tuna, etc. and sprinkled with furikake (rice seasonings).