InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Torn Apart ❯ Chapter 23

 

Chapter 23

 

The sloshing of water against the stone walls of the sewer was the only distinguishable sound they could hear, outside of shallow breathing as Sango and Inuyasha struggled to filter out the horrible stink of garbage through their mouths. It was a useless endeavor, however, as they could physically taste the stink.

 

They'd been making their slow, cautious way through the darkness for almost fifteen minutes now, Sango following by touch alone. She had to place her trust in Inuyasha to lead her past the floating obstacles and through the rolling sedimentation of refuse. Her mind conjured images to compliment the horror of slithering masses brushing past her legs, and the squeak of some flea-bitten animal as they disturbed it in passing.

 

Tension built up around her, but all she could do was follow where he led, hoping nothing separated them in the pitch-black of the sewer. At least Inuyasha could pierce the veil of darkness with the enhanced senses of his demon blood. Her only consolation was that her lack was both a blessing and a curse in this rancid place. She could not imagine a keener stench then the one surrounding her which had to have been a hundred fold worse for Inuyasha.

 

Her mind was still besieged with emotional overload as it rushed to shore up her defenses against the fear of being left alone in this world of machinery and crowded cities. Kagome was her lifeline, though she had friends and family aplenty to ease her way. She wanted Kagome to keep on smiling and laughing, brightening her day and making her feel welcomed. She wanted to watch her grow old with the extended family Shippou had created for her. She wanted her to have her own children to coddle and take care of, a man she loved taking care of her. She wanted to be able to lean on her friend when times were tough and be there to give back some of the strength Kagome had always freely given to whoever needed it.

 

She wanted so much for the miko who defied time to do the right thing, and she wanted to watch, and observe, and protect her. She wanted Kagome to have all the things she could never have, because Kagome deserved them unlike herself. She deserved happiness after so much sorrow and uncertainty. She deserved to live without that cursed rock upsetting her life whenever she found a new goal, a new hope.

 

Why did everyone close to herself have to die or get hurt?

 

A tear escaped her net of numbness to fall down her cheek, unnoticed by the hanyou in front of her. She wiped the tears with slim fingers, letting go of the strap wrapped around her chest to hold her Hiraikotsu in place. She would be lonely without Kagome.

“I can almost smell him,” growled Inuyasha, breaking her chain of thought. “He's close.”

 

She could hear the raw desire to inflict pain echoing in his voice, a desire that was fiercely mirrored in her own soul. She was almost ashamed at how viscerally she felt it.

 

“Where is he?” whispered Sango as she felt him shrug off her hand from its resting place on his shoulder. She fought to discourage the fear of the unknown from taking over her senses. She was a taijiya; she would not be defeated by her emotions!

 

“I don't know,” he whispered as he sniffed, trying to filter out the key elements from the garbage. Shuukaku's scent seemed to stop where they were standing, going no further through the slimy mass of waste. His nose crinkled at the thought of the things he was wading through and the heavy pungent order of rotting garbage. A headache hovered at the edge of consciousness.

 

“He stopped right here; I just can't figure out where the bastard went!” Inuyasha growled softly through grinding teeth. He turned to face the wall and crept closer to run his hand along the slimy concrete.

 

“Maybe there's a door,” he mumbled as he felt with sensitive fingertips for a crack in the seamless wall. Only Sango noticed his words were swallowed whole by the smothering darkness.

 

She shivered, wrapping her arms around her stomach as a chilled finger ran up and down her spine. She hated feeling helpless. She couldn't save Kohaku despite the countless opportunities that were presented to her. Her entire village was destroyed when she was away failing to protect her Ane-ue and Kohaku from death. She was never given a choice between two presents, either; she had been forced to adapt to a world completely foreign to her. Always, she was made to feel weak and useless. Especially now when she couldn't even help to find the thing that may have permanently taken Kagome away from her! A ghostly wind brushed her cheek, making her turn violently in fright.

 

The crashing sound of dark water ricocheted off the scattered debris and startled the hanyou from his search. The fear oozing off of her made his heart constrict in reply, a whimper vibrating against his closed throat. Muscles flexing, he sloshed towards her as quick as his leg muscles could sluice through the dirty water. “What!” he forcefully projected, his voice a shade of the mixed emotions running through him. Placing his hand on her shoulder, she twisted away and lashed out with her hand as instincts consumed her.

 

“What are you doing!” he growled, swooping in to lock her arms at her side, her face pressed into his chest leaving a bright spot of warmth against his thudding heart. It was the only way he knew to prevent her from kicking his ass again.

 

Shuddering breath echoed in the tunnel as Sango's mind stumbled to a halt; the warmth of a chest pressed tightly against her own knocked her senses back into order. Her arms slowly crept around his waist as she began to control her fear, to re-master her control. Another shudder crept down her spine as she felt once more the finger-prick of chilled hands at play.

 

Inuyasha startled, feeling her arms return his embrace. Peace briefly filled him, calming the sudden palpitations at her unexpected movement. As his muscles slowly unclenched, relaxing under the steady puff of warm air tickling the skin beneath his haori, he nearly jumped himself as the miasma that haunted the taijiya so returned to play with his own senses. “What was that!” he muttered, arms tightening around her waist.

 

Sango lifted her face from its resting place to look into the shining eyes of her comrade-in-arms. Blinking, she shook the final cobwebs of residual fright from her mind, bending it to dissect the situation. As the whisper of air brushed by her ear one more time, her head snapped up, enlightenment dawning.

 

“Look up Inuyasha!” Excitement colored her voice. “It looks like Shuukaku escaped up there.”

 

Inuyasha smiled as he released his grip around Sango's body. Feh'ing for good measure, he jumped up into the tiny aperture and grasped the lower rung of a ladder. His weight sent it crashing down to halt just above the water line. “That damn rat's so not getting away from me and my Tetsusaiga!”

 

She smiled. It was beginning to feel just like old times.

 

—\-|-/—

 

A deluge of soldiers engulfed the alleyway, attracted to the smell of fresh blood and their lord's scent. They were his men, and proud to be so though shame clouded the air as pheromones were released to ride on burning flesh.

 

They had not arrived in time to save the rumored lady and the heir. They failed in their duty because they were restricted to the diluted blood running through their veins. It had been half a century since they had seen a fight that tested the full range of their abilities; those that were old enough that is. Who knew that when push came to shove, they would rue the day they were lax in their training?

 

The demon lord turned dead eyes to his guardsmen, clearly broadcasting his displeasure at the lateness of the hour. “Clean up this mess. The necessary authorities will be here soon, asking questions. Leave nothing that can be traced back to us. One of our own should be on his way as well to take care of this case. Make his job easier.”

 

The men gulped in fear as the blood splattered youkai turned his back on his men to face his intended mate and adopted heir. All they could sense from his spirit was a dripping coldness as he tightened the hand that grasped Kagome's own.

 

A single growl was all that was needed to spur them to action, though later each would speculate from whom it had originated, Sesshoumaru or the pale spectre lying beside him, guarding them with a single swipe of its tail should one creep to near in clearing the debris.

 

It would be a night forever etched in their minds as the chill of winter's darkest night crept through their hearts, and all of it from one youkai lord.

 

—\-|-/—

Anticipation rolled off him in waves, his feet carrying him further and faster down the plush carpeted hallway. The scent was strong, and lingered like molasses in the air, coating everything sticky hot. It was warm in this made-up tunnel lying between the sewers and the evening sky.

 

It was a hidden lair five feet from the smelliest, nastiest sewers underground, and refurbished with resplendent luxuries. The irony of a rat that loved to dabble in genocide and had the audacity to surround himself with the trappings of greatness was not lost on Sango. Always, for as long as she could remember, did the cruel masters of the world surround themselves with beauty and riches. Very rarely did the good and kindhearted seek to broadcast their ill gained fortune with such opulence as was displayed here.

 

It was an English castle gone to ground and five hundred years in the making. Suits of armor littered the narrow tunnel, menacing with its halberds and broadswords. Tapestries of grotesque rituals lined the wall, beating back the chill, dank air seeping through the concrete. Paintings lined the wall from a dozen countries, a montage to the cultures demolished by plague over the centuries.

 

Sango shivered, as her feet ran through the endless corridor, her feet sinking into the dark red carpet with every step. She could feel the excitement oozing out of Inuyasha, and she had to wonder if he even saw the things they were passing by on silent feet. It was lonely, seeing his hair flying before him as the gap between them grew with every passing step. Her mind wandered lazily, touching on the objects as it found them, cataloging their uniqueness, wondering at the audacity it had for leaving her behind to run on adrenalin alone.

 

It made no sense to her that she should be concentrating on the morbid artwork. The strange pictures were amazing in their accuracy, so much of her life reflected with every passing stride. Her life was of the grotesque, dead bodies stretching out behind her in a wave of blood and shredded body parts. She had dealt her own fair share of death, attempting to annihilate a race all on her own.

 

Was she any better then the demon lying in wait somewhere ahead of them? She killed youkai for a living, once up on a time. He killed humans, playing with them, making them suffer. She had made her own fair share of demons suffer in agony before putting them out of their misery. Especially after she discovered all she held dear were murdered.

 

Her eyes closed briefly as her body continued to flow onwards. Was she really any better then the demon Shuukaku?

 

Her body collided with a warm, steel one, causing her to cry softly and brace herself mentally for a fall. But none came. Instead, warm, no hot, hands steadied her shoulders, holding her up. An equally warm voice penetrated the blankness now oppressing her thoughts.

 

“Sango, are you ready for this fight? Because you've been sending mixed signals all night.”

 

She opened her eyes to meet the honey glazed ones staring down at her. Her eyes drifted from side to side, noting that he had stopped a few feet away from a door, yet another door leading to no where.

 

“Sango,” he growled, shaking her a little to get her focus back on him. “I'm not going in there unless you can concentrate on what we have to do!” His eyes gleamed fiercely in the red haze of the lamplight. “So, are you going to let go of this funk you've put yourself into, or are you going to continue to mope because Kagome's dying? I'm just as worried as you are, but Sesshoumaru's the best thing for her right now, and he's sitting right beside her!”

 

Sango gulped, her focus struggling to do as he asked. Her mind whirled in a chaotic tumble, images sliding in and out of her disheveled head. Memories of Kohaku flashed quickly, speed building as image after tarnished image was placed before her. All of them ended with blood on his blade and tears in her eyes as he walked away from her, always away. A final picture of his body lying in the empty room of Naraku's abandoned mansion halted jarringly in front of her, vision fading to be replaced with Kagome's lax body. Yet another life gone to waste, unsalvageable, unattainable, broken.

 

She stifled a sob as her eyes refocused on Inuyasha's, understanding lighting her darkness for a brief moment. They each shared a dark past, betrayed by Naraku, betrayed by loved ones over and over again because fate played them a cruel hand. As her thoughts coalesced on the dark pinprick of his pupils, she at last saw all the pain inside of him, a mirror image of her own, and he was fighting against it, needing her by his side to share the pain, the heavy weight of responsibility just beyond that innocent looking door.

 

He needed her to be ready to kill another without a second thought, to do what she had been trained from birth to do. He needed the old Sango, the one who was able to keep fighting no matter what that bastard hanyou threw at her. She grinned, blood seeping back into her pores, heart beating strong and true. She was ready.

 

An answering smile graced the hanyou's lips as he squeezed her shoulder before turning away from her. “Let's get going. We need to get that jewel back to Kagome before she decides to do anything foolish like die on us.”

 

Sango laughed softly. “She wouldn't dare do that. If she did, who else would have the nerve to make Sesshoumaru's life a living hell?”

 

They shared another maniacal smile before he walked to the door, and pushed it open. Drawing their weapons, they stepped into the room. They could the smell a rat, hiding in the darkness.

 

—\-|-/—

 

His mind slipped into a trance, monitoring her vital signs, checking her health. His hearing sensitivity increased ten-fold while his smell doubled, a feat in itself considering the cloying mass of hideous scents lying thick on the air around him.

 

He breathed in when she did, breathed out when she exhaled. His heartbeat settled into a barely perceptible beat to better hear hers laboring against the swarm of disease wreaking havoc within her all too warm body.

 

His mind focused on Kagome while it simultaneously cataloged Shippou's vital signs and that of the woman lying next to them, each carefully guarded by Kusari yūrei. Somehow, when once the demon dog had attempted to turn Kagome against her comrades, they had formed a bound during his proximity to the miko. He could sense the intense loyalty exuding from every wisp of smoke dissipating in the heat of the summer air.

 

The wail of sirens pierced the dark silence that had descended unnoticed upon the industriously working group in the alley. Their hushed voices stilled as the sluggish air they waded through stiffened before splitting seamlessly around the statue-like group they carefully encircled.

 

Sesshoumaru looked up from his vantage, delicate nose testing the air waves. Salvation for the miko was coming at last. Soon, she would receive the aid she required, more then what he could give her personally. His cold gaze watched as the alley was lit in a cascade of red and blues as the medics pulled up to the curb, barely halting out of sight.

 

His ears twitched as the door to the ambulance slammed shut while the team quickly pulled open the back door, grabbing the gurney. He knew the moment the wheels hit the ground, the clank of steel on concrete unmistakable.

 

Eyes flashed in acknowledgement as they scrambled towards him though he turned to face Kusari yūrei, the most immediate threat to Kagome's well being.

 

Sesshoumaru captured the spectre's white, translucent eyes, conveying with the skill of years of living his warning, his demand. Stand down. Desist. There is nothing more that either of us can do. Kusari yūrei could not follow in his current form, and he knew it though he protested softly, whimpering low and soft. He did not want to leave his mistress.

 

Slowly, rebelliously, he lowered his head to Kagome's and with one eye trained on the taiyoukai's tense body, licked her cheek, dragging his tongue across the sword healed wound on her neck. As the congealing blood coursed down his throat, his eyes glinted briefly with reddish light.

 

For now, he would wait, but the next time someone threatened his mistress's life, they would not get off so easily. As his body began to deteriorate one wispy tendril at a time, Sesshoumaru smiled. They were agreed on the subject of protection, the thirst for blood. Such a thing would not easily happen again.

 

One of the EMT's cleared his throat harshly, hoping to break-up the strange exchange between demon and beast. “Sesshoumaru-sama?” he whispered, nervousness tingeing his aura a sickly green.

 

“We're here as requested,” added the other, waiting patiently to be told which of the scattered wounded were to be his patient.

 

Sesshoumaru turned his head and glared at them. “Take Shippou and the girl. I'll follow with the miko.”

 

The two technicians blinked in confusion before gathering their wits about themselves and setting to the task of checking vital signs before lifting Shippou onto the gurney and wheeling him away to the ambulance. Seconds later, Sesshoumaru gently bent and gathered Kagome's shallow breathing body to his chest before gracefully ascending to his feet.

 

As he moved to exit that ill-fated alley, he warned, “Finish quickly. I can smell the police approaching.”

 

The soldiers watched their lord stride purposely away and jump into the back of the ambulance as the technicians returned for Ayumi's body. Soon, they were the only ones left in the alleyway, watching the medics drive off down the street. Those left behind scurried to complete their tasks. Their lives were in jeopardy if Sesshoumaru's actions were any indication. To be caught or not to be caught, it would make little difference if Kagome died.

 

—\-|-/—

 

Sango strove to pierce the veil of darkness that suffused the room just beyond the door she stood within. It was broken only by the thin shaft of diffuse city and moon light streaming in through the grated window across the way from her. Through the ribbon of shining light, she could make out a disordered desk and a newspaper covered armchair.

 

It would appear that the rat in residence was quite industrious for a nefarious, must take over the world kind of fellow. `He's so different from Naraku,' Sango thought, thinking of the hanyou's lair that amplified sound, sent it back to you in the empty, hollow space of nothing.

 

Empty and hollow.

 

That's how she felt sometimes when she let the memories of her family consume her thoughts. Loneliness was a curse better left alone, though she had little choice in the matter.

 

Inuyasha growled, seeing something in the darkness that she could not. Her eyes surveyed the room once more, mind focused back on the task at hand, pushing the unwanted stray thoughts from her consciousness. Her ears caught the first sign that they were not alone in the room. There was something close by, in the corner, just under the grate where the light could not reach them, muttering in a strange tongue she did not recognize.

 

The next thing she noticed was the demon's red eyes, anger suffusing their very being. As her eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness, she could see a faint glow shining through the cracks in his knuckles. The Shikon was coming alive.

 

Her sense of demonic auras was the next to hone in on her target, the clash of wills fluctuating between purity and oily darkness. A smile graced her lips. Perhaps two years in Kagome's care had made it more resistant to the ill wishes of another. It gave her a little bit of hope that perhaps they were not too late.

 

“Yo! Give us back the jewel!” Inuyasha took a few steps forward; his sword perched nonchalantly on his shoulder. She could now see his aura faintly ringing his body with a soft blue glow, the light allowing her to survey the room better.

 

Shuukaku glanced up from his task, his concentration broken as he bent the jewel to his will. The thing was stubborn, a behavior that was contrary to everything he had ever heard about the jewel. It was supposed to call the darkness to it, twisting every wish to evil. He was evil! It was only fair that it helped him with his task. His facial muscles twitched with ire.

 

“You damn youkai are all the same,” he snarled, clenching the jewel tighter in his fist. “You always think you're superior to everyone else. If we weren't born and bred in Japan, we're just some dumb demon who can't put one foot in front of the other!”

 

His fist pounded on the table, startling Sango ever so slightly though Inuyasha ignored the theatrics, continuing to grin. “I won't stand for it anymore! Once this jewel grants me my wish, I'll set a plague upon the world that hasn't been seen for a thousand years, and once those fool mortals are gone, I'll take out every single one of you youkai.”

 

His red eyes glowed in the darkness, focused only on the inu in front of him. “Each and every one in your damn family is a filthy disgrace to youkai! Every single, fucking one of you is a philanthropist, so concerned with saving the human race that you've forgotten who we were meant to be! We were supposed to rule the mortal races, and you're all just a cowering, simpering bunch of fools who `help' out those grimy, disgusting, useless humans.”

 

Inuyasha laughed. “They're not so bad to be around once they learned to clean themselves with soap and water.” He sniffed. “They can even smell nice if they put an effort into it. But you on the other hand...just smell like garbage.”

 

Shuukaku's body tensed. “Damn you all to hell!” he cried, surging forward with his claws extended, the jewel still clenched tightly in his fist.

 

Inuyasha side-stepped the flying rat, kicking him in the ass to send him crashing into the wall, the sword still perched lazily on his shoulder. He yawned, exaggerating the movement. “You're so slow, Shuukaku, you couldn't hit a fly.”

 

The rat picked himself off the floor, shaking his whole body to clear it of broken glass courtesy of the vase that broke his fall. His eyes took in the scene noting the taijiya's battle stance and the hanyou's insulting lack of one. A voice slid between his thoughts, leaving a film in its wake to whisper in his ear.

 

I can help you win this fight. Trust in me, swallow me whole and let me take over.

 

Shuukaku shook his head, trying to dislodge the voice from his mind though it clung tenaciously to him. He pushed off with his feet, heading straight for Inuyasha again. But this time the hanyou didn't dodge him. Instead, he swung into the rat, using his momentum against him to send him flying into an armored knight. The clanging crash of metal falling to pieces on the ground grated on his ears and added to his bruises though they quickly healed.

 

Inuyasha is nothing compared to you. Where he has failed, you will succeed. I can give you that power, make you stronger, swifter, more cunning then you've ever imagined. With me, not even that thing can stand against our might!

 

The rat glanced around the room, the thought that all he had wrought for years might be taken away from him making him panic. He couldn't think of a way to get past the hanyou. Attacking did nothing. Cunning would have to do, but his mind drew a blank, only echoing the thoughts in his head and making him gouge out a clawed furrow on his arm with the futility of it all.

 

He was not defeated yet! He wouldn't allow himself to be. He brought Europe to its knees, held sway over Hong Kong before the kitsune ruined his fun. He had brought fear to China's lands, terror to India. Even the Americans had not been able to withstand him in the beginning.

 

As resolve settled in his stomach, he heard the cackling roar of power suffusing his body with new energy. His hand burned with an unholy light, and he knew at last who had been speaking to him, whispering encouraging words. Yes, he would swallow the Shikon no Tama, make it a part of him as the plague that suffused his limbs with death was a part of him. Nothing would separate himself from the jewel, from the rush of darkness that made his heart leap in joy. At last, he would have his revenge.

 

Sango watched as Shuukaku's aura slowly darkened, making the air around him a black hole of light. With horror, she threw her body forward, hoping to make it in time before the jewel did anything foolish, the pink light of purity drowned out as the demon within it took back the reigns of control from Midoriko's lost soul. She was too late, however, as the rat ingested the dripping black jewel. Her body was flung through the air, knocking Inuyasha backwards as he caught her flying limbs.

 

The rat laughed, laughed, as they fell to a thud on the floor, momentarily dazed at the unexpected set back.

 

As Sango picked herself off Inuyasha, she wondered, prayed, that Kagome would be all right, because with the jewel on Shuukaku's side, she didn't know if she could survive this fight.

 

—\-|-/—

 

It was a short ride to the hospital as Sesshoumaru filled in the medics the particulars of the situation with as few words as possible. Their pitying glances were held at bay by the coldness in his own eyes, a blessing to the taiyoukai whose heart continued to beat in time with Kagome's belabored one.

 

They had done the best for Shippou, wrapping his wounds with bandages to make sure all the bleeding had stopped. They wiped off Ayumi as well as they could with antiseptic cloths, the stink of vomit and detritus heavy in the cramped confines of the medical van. But Kagome, they were not allowed to touch, and they did not try. They took him at his word that she was fine except for the disease that flowed through her veins, the thought making them cringe with fear at what could be unleashed within Tokyo.

 

The man driving had phoned in the situation; doctors were standing by. An area was being prepared for quarantine to prevent the spread of disease. It was a daunting task to undertake so quickly though the infected numbers were so few.

 

As they wheeled Shippou into the emergency room; Ayumi was carted off by a compassionate looking nurse to clean her up and check for external damages. Sesshoumaru followed with Kagome still clasped tightly in his arms. A doctor motioned for him to follow her, recognizing the signs of a pissed off youkai holding his mate. They all came in angry and upset.

 

There was danger in separating a youkai from his loved one, especially those that were full-bloodied with the weight of years behind their control. If an illness or wound was strong enough to necessitate medical help, she knew it was strong enough to break that tightly leashed control. She had learned that over the years as a doctor.

 

“What can you tell me about her condition?” she asked softly as he settled the girl on an examining table, his furry appendage flicking slightly at her question.

 

“She is most likely sick with plague. It is already in the advanced stages of disease though she just contracted the pathogen an hour ago at my best guess.”

 

Meirin blinked, surprise heavy in her gaze. Plague didn't work that fast. She knew since she had first been attracted to medicine after the pandemic hit India. It fascinated her that a pathogen could affect the human body so quickly once it was introduced into its host. From there, she discovered an intellectual fascination for all diseases and the methods with which humans destroyed them. It led her to study how youkai bodies seemed capable of defeating all these deadly pathogens when they're human counterpart could not.

 

It was a scientific anomaly that there was yet to be discovered a bacteria or virus that could detrimentally affect a youkai's system. Only the common cold seemed to thrive in youkai, causing them to fall ill though it was barely more then an annoyance. It was something that captivated her. Why humans, and not youkai? All it would take was one bacterium to develop a new mechanism of invasion. Why hadn't it done so already? It challenged her on so many levels, and she loved a challenge.

 

“An hour ago? And she's already forming Buboes?”

 

Sesshoumaru's gaze wandered down Kagome's skin. So the swelling of her lymph nodes and the hemorrhaged blood vessels were Buboes, if the doctor's actions were any indication.

 

The doctor stepped forward and began pressing down on the skin, checking her pulse, the sensitivity of the lymph nodes to pressure. Kagome whimpered in her sleep, shifting away from the probing fingers.

 

Naosu's mind catalogued all the symptoms, the heat rising off her skin, the buboes, everything. It was indeed plague though the speed of generation was unheard of. Yes, it was a disease that struck swiftly, but never before this swiftly. What made this human girl so unique?

 

She ignored Sesshoumaru's warning growl and pressed down again on her swollen neck. A flare of energy sent her scrambling backwards, her fingers tingling with purity.

 

Sesshoumaru smirked on the inside, watching the doctor's dazed expression light up her face. “She is a miko,” he clarified unnecessarily.

 

Naosu glared in the taiyoukai's general direction. Muttering to herself, she crept nearer and gently poked the woman's shoulder. When nothing happened, she sighed, and got to business. Quickly, she sterilized a syringe and a patch of Kagome's skin before sticking it into a vein and drawing out a quart of blood.

 

She carefully explained to Sesshoumaru what she was doing, ensuring him that she was not harming the girl, but rather seeking to help her. She knew too that her voice often helped calmed her patients' mates.

 

“I'm just taking her blood so we can run tests and make sure it is plague in her system and not something else although I think the likelihood is low. I'm also going to prescribe antibiotics and put her on an IV to help her body concentrate on fighting the bacteria within her without worrying about nutrition.”

 

She filled out a form swiftly, writing down the necessary vital signs and diagnostic. Tearing off another sheet, she scribbled the drug treatment down, a mélange of antibiotics ranging from penicillin to something stronger like ciprofloxacin and sulfamethoxazole.

 

She glanced up from her writing, noting how his gaze stared blankly at her, drilling into her skin with the weight of a warning while his ears and body were turned ever so slightly towards her patient. A better monitor could not be found, though the miko would need to be attached to such machines soon. The nurse could deal with that when the IV was attached.

 

She waved the slip of paper in her hand, making him focus his gaze on it rather then herself. “I'm going to leave to get these drugs for the miko and send a nurse in to get the girl settled.” She paused, manners ruefully making her remember the social necessities. “I'm sorry, what is her name? I got a little caught up in thinking about her prognosis.”

 

Sesshoumaru acknowledged the apology with a simple word, “Kagome.”

 

Naosu nodded and smiled. “Alright, a nurse will be in shortly to settle Kagome in the room we've quarantined for her use. I'll be right back with these antibiotics after I drop off her blood for analysis. We're going to do the best we can for her, never fear that.”

 

Sesshoumaru watched as the doctor removed herself from his presence before he stepped closer to Kagome. His hand, forcefully relaxed at his side, brushed the back of hers, maintaining the comforting contact as he waited, waited for her to get better.

 

—\-|-/—

 

Sango wiped the blood of her lip where she had bit down too hard as she crashed into the wall sending a painting crashing down on top of her. The room was not an ideal place to pick a fight, the clutter adding to the bruises and preventing her from using her Hiraikotsu effectively. It mostly served as a shield and little else, forcing her to rely on her sword and hand-to-hand combat skills.

 

It was still a necessity, however, since Shuukaku managed to snag one of the many weapons lying around the room, changing tactics from broadsword to halberd to daggers. He constantly changed weapons, forcing both her and Inuyasha to reevaluate and change tactics again and again. It was beginning to grate on her nerves.

 

It hadn't helped that Inuyasha couldn't use the Tetsusaiga effectively either. Nearly all of his attacks were useless since the close quarters allowed Shuukaku to distract the hanyou from completely finishing off a move. A cornered rat was indeed a deadly foe, especially one with the power of a complete Shikon no Tama flowing through his veins.

 

She winced as the rat managed to score another hit on Inuyasha, making the blood drip down his chest from the wound on his shoulder. His body was dotted with such wounds, and though he gave as good as he got to the rat, he still managed to heal his wounds to quickly for it to effect him all that much.

 

Her only consolation was that Shuukaku did not appear to have full mastery over the Shikon no Tama like Naraku once did. She clung tenaciously to that belief, knowing that, alone, they were not strong enough to destroy him.

 

She pushed herself off the wall, tongue slightly probing her split lip and wincing at the self-induced pain. If things kept up as they were, they'd never get out of here intact. Her eyes surveyed the ransacked room, noting the cracked desk, the toppled chairs and scattered books ripped and torn from being stepped on, crashed into, and sliced apart by errant swings of random weapons. There had to be something here that would give them that extra bit of leeway, that element of surprise.

 

She sighed, leaning on the giant boomerang. If only she could distract him long enough to allow Inuyasha a chance to defeat the rat. `A distraction,' she mused, watching the two fight each other. Her eyes picked apart the random technique, the wild thrusts of the rat youkai and the slightly better controlled ones that Inuyasha used. He had improved through the years. His technique still contained the raw power and strength he had once relied on to defeat everything in the past, but it was tempered now with forethought rather then pure instinct.

 

Shuukaku, on the other hand, looked as though he had once been taught how to fight but had not kept up with the training. His moves were rusty, and marred with a moment of hesitance. She could tell he preferred the role of assassin to that of open warrior.

 

Watching, a plan began to form in her head, and her heart grew warm. Perhaps she could do something to save Kagome, to save Inuyasha. Her feet flew as she jumped back into the fray, swinging the Hiraikotsu by the strap to push the rat away momentarily. Standing next to Inuyasha, she muttered from the side of her mouth, “Whatever happens, don't hesitate to take him out.”

 

Inuyasha glanced at the taijiya, noting the grim determination etched in every line of her body. A feeling of foreboding settled over him, as she charged forward, him only a step behind. She leapt at Shuukaku, doing nothing to avoid the long sword that was raised to pierce her skin. As it sank into her flesh, she grinned, shocking Shuukaku into a moment of stillness.

 

This woman was not sane.

 

As he tugged at his sword, trying to free it from its rigid prison, he felt the bit of a blade dig into his heart, Sango's sword piercing the skin before she blacked out to the sound of Inuyasha's angry scream.

 

The hanyou dashed forward, incensed at the taijiya for treating her life so poorly. As he jumped to clear her head, he swung his sword across his opponent's neck, decapitating the rat and sending his head rolling to the ground, the shock forever etched across his features. His hand slashed down the demon's throat, laying open his esophagus to reveal the sick glow of the Shikon to his gaze before he plucked it from the wet flesh.

 

Dropping the burning orb into his pocket, he turned to Sango and gently lifted her off the long sword and settled her on the ground. Tearing off the sleeve of his white under haori, he bandaged her body as best he could, thankfully noticing the woman yet lived though her breath was shallow and seemed to gurgle and whistle as her pierced lung fought to sustain her life.

 

Tears trickled down his face. The two women in his life, his oldest friends, were both near death now, and he couldn't stand the helplessness that suffused his bones with weariness and age. He lifted her slowly from the ground, and turned towards the grating. Swinging Tetsusaiga awkwardly against the weight in his arms, he managed to sheer the iron from its cement prison, opening up a hole big enough for him to jump through, scaring a few pedestrians in the process.

 

His speed quickly blurred him from their sight as he ran like a hellhound to the hospital, to Sesshoumaru, to Kagome, to help.

 

_______________________________________________________________