Lost

He couldn't remember how long he'd been there staring absently into the lake, lost in thoughts that only found his mind once a month. He felt weak, empty, as if his soul was being weakened like fire in a heavy rain. His senses dulled, his mind sharpened, and his introspection cut into him like a blade.

He felt the deepest sensation of loneliness, it washed over him in waves, crashed against his mind any time he glanced back at the small wooden hut where his friends gathered for the night. He wished desperately that the sun would set, he wished that the night would be over. He wished for strength of mind and body and heart.

But why did he feel so weak, he wondered. He shook his head and looked back to the sky. The sun was dipping low in the fiery sky, hidden behind clouds of orange and red and purple. The rays reached out to him, touched him and opened him as they peeked out from between the cover, and he felt weaker. As the sun fell toward the horizon the feelings became more intense.

It was the curse of mortality. The monthly reminder of his impurity when the shield maintained by demonic blood relinquished and weakness took hold.

He shivered.

"Are you all right?"

He turned, caught off guard by the soft voice. But there she was, standing above him with a bowl of rice in one hand and a blanket in the other.

He should have heard her coming. He should have smelled her coming.

"I'm fine," he said, returned his gaze to the lake, and watched absently as the waves flowed along its surface.

"You haven't transformed yet," she said. She took a seat beside him on the wet grass and placed the food before him, still clutching the blanket. "They thought you'd like something to eat."

He stared silently ahead.

"You should come inside, it's going to be cold tonight."

He heaved a long sigh and looked to her. "Maybe later on."

She flashed him a genuine smile, stood back up, and held the blanket out to him. He took it without a word, placed it on his lap, and watched as she began the trek back to the hut. He wanted to tell her to stop, to come back, and to sit with him through the night. Maybe sharing the silence would help dull the emotion.

But she was gone and he couldn't bring himself to speak any more. He felt too weak.

***

Kagome found herself awestruck as he entered the hut, half because he had yielded to the cold and half because of the continued quietness of his footfalls. She didn't look up but instead waited for him to take his customary spot at her feet, back to the wall, watching her sleep, ever her protector.

Instead he crept up behind her and kneeled, pulled her blanket back, and laid down beside her. She was startled by the uncharacteristic show of affection but wasn't altogether surprised by it. Inuyasha had been different that night, distant and unhappy, far from his quick tempered disposition.

"What's the matter?" she said quietly. "Aren't you afraid that the others will see you?"

Of course Kagome knew that the others were sound asleep and the risk was unlikely at best. It was the dead of night, and on any other day the moon would have been high in the sky.

He hushed her quietly and laid his arm over her waist, pulled her close to him to ward against the cold February air. It was a long time before either of them moved, Kagome was content to lay there warm in his arms. It came as a surprise when she felt him stir.

He ran his fingers up her arm, goosebumps sprang up in their wake, and brushed his hand against her neck. He touched the Shikon Jewel necklace and traced its path around her neck. He stopped his claw between her collar bones and pushed himself up to rest on his elbow, towering above her. He leaned down so close that she could feel his breath on her ear.

"Kagome," he whispered softly, "thank you for letting me share your bed."

She couldn't move, she was frozen by fear. If she moved he would flee back into the night and the moment would end. She didn't know what would happen if she didn't move. So she laid there as he flattened his palm against her chest and rolled her to her back. Then they locked eyes, stared for a long moment examining each others' reaction.

Kagome didn't know what he was thinking, but she suddenly felt as if something was wrong. Why had he been so forward with her? He had never touched her that way before, had had never given her shivers.

Then it hit her, she found herself breathless. His hand weighed heavily against her chest, his yellow eyes bored into her, his white hair fell around shoulders.

It's not him.

Kagome's scream pierced the otherwise silent night, loud and high and shrill. As suddenly as she had screamed her companions were at her side, hands on their weapons and ready for a fight. But they stopped short when they saw the reason behind the cry, that what should have been a tender moment had somehow gone terribly wrong.

"Inuyasha, you're going about it all wrong," said Miroku with a smile as he lowered his monk's staff. "You should have--"

"It's not him!" Kagome shrieked as she laid on her back, prone and pinned under the demon's hand. "It's not him!"

Then, one by one, they made the same observations that Kagome had. He should have been mortal but his hair remained its natural silver hue, his eyes glowed yellow, and his sharp and dangerous claws rested on Kagome's unguarded chest.

His eyes grew wide as the weapons began flying at him. He grasped the jewel, ripped it away from Kagome's neck, jumped to his feet, and fled from the hut and his assailants, his mission ultimately accomplished.

"Shippo, Kaede, stay here with Kagome," Miroku ordered as he pulled Sango by the arm. "Sango and I will get him back."

Shippo nodded and curled up against Kagome and the two watched their companions run into the night.

***

Inuyasha woke, bound by his hands on the floor in a cold and windowless room constructed of dark gray stone. The first sensation he felt was fear, deeper and more intense than he had ever felt it before, and then he felt pain. His wrists were cocked and tied too tightly behind his back, he felt blood against his neck, running down his back, his hair was matted against his face.

He had been at the lake, he thought. Curling up underneath Kagome's blanket to sleep beside his small fire. He remembered hearing rustling but couldn't recall what had been there. His head stung and the pain coursed through him. He felt nauseous as he remembered a white hot explosion at the base of his skull.

He had been knocked unconscious, bound and then dragged through the woods, but where was he now?

No matter, he thought. It was still the middle of the night and he was physically powerless. He would have to make due with his brain and couldn't have his senses dulled by panic and fear. He fought hard to make his way to his knees, all the while trying to suppress the human emotions that flooded his head. His feet weren't bound, if he could just stand up maybe he could find some way out.

Inuyasha crawled toward the door, scraping his knees against the sharp stone corners of the floor, and once there, made his way to his feet. The nausea was waiting for him as he stood and it rolled over him in one big wave, dizzying him. He slumped against the wooden door as the room began to spin. He gasped for air.

He fell back to the floor in a heap and laid there for a long while panting and heaving as the nausea ran its course.

He didn't know how long he laid there, sick and exhausted, when the door suddenly creaked open. Two tiny humanoids entered and were followed by a larger figure. Inuyasha couldn't find the strength to roll over and face them.

"This is the one?" said the larger humanoid, a female with a dark and smooth voice. She stepped in front of her prisoner and kneeled, took his face in her palm, and turned it toward her.

She was a beautiful woman, by all standards, with long auburn hair and deep brown eyes. She wore a silk kimono of floral print that dipped low around her bust. Inuyasha found himself transfixed for a moment on her face, angular yet soft, before he pulled away from her.

"Still a bit of life in you yet, hanyo?" she said. She tightened her grip on his chin and turned his face back to hers. "How fortunate for me that my magic eaters found you on this night."

His eyes grew wide. She didn't know? He suddenly felt quite stupid, naive. He should have known better than to spend the night outside. He should have known that some day someone would come for him regardless of whether they knew of his state.

She let go of his face suddenly and his head cracked against the floor. He winced and groaned as another jolt of pain racked his body. He scarcely heard her give the next order.

"Bind him."

He felt tiny hands against his arms removing the shackles and cold leather cuffs tightening around his wrists. Then his beads were removed and in their place was clasped a tight metal shackle on a short and thick chain. One of the imps stepped in front of him and bent to eye level, examining its work.

If Inuyasha could have growled, he would have. Instead he stared coldly at the figure, a tiny human-like demon no more than half his height with spindly limbs and a bony body. Its head seemed too big for its frame with huge glossy green eyes and tiny bump horns. Its ears were long and pointed and drooped at their tips, the lobes were tattered and ripped. This was a fighter, a soldier. But what the hell was it?

"Take him to a proper holding cell," the woman commanded, obviously satisfied with her lackeys' work, and strode confidently from the room. "If he gives you trouble, dose him again."

So he had been poisoned, Inuyasha thought.

Another groan escaped him as the impish figures pulled him into the hall, dragging his weakened body across the floor by the metal chain. He felt himself being picked up and replaced on a board, a cart, and the imps wheeled him down the way.

***

"What is it?" Kagome asked as Miroku and Sango took their seats around the hut's fire pit. Miroku held an impish figure by its thin legs, dangling it upside down above the blaze. He shook it back and forth gently, sometimes lowering it toward the flames but never letting it touch.

"It's a magic binder," Kaede said from the corner. She made her way to the circle and sat down, stared hard at the imp. "Though I've never seen one before."

Kagome leaned forward and held her blanket close. "What is a magic binder?"

Miroku cleared his throat and turned his eyes to Kagome. "An imp, a mischief maker. They aren't altogether evil but they tend to cause trouble wherever they go. It's unlike them to be so bold as this one was, though," he said. "They tend to shy away from humans."

The group sat for a long while, staring at the dangling, struggling imp. He was red-skinned and had a squeaky voice, begged for release.

Sango moved closer to Kagome and spoke quietly. "From what Miroku has told me they take the shapes of strong people in order to cause their mayhem."

"So everything he said was a lie?" Kagome replied. It had felt so real, it had felt so good to finally feel that touch.

"Not necessarily," Miroku said. "When they assume a shape they also assume memories, emotions, and heart. It's likely that this particular imp had stolen the identity of some young lover somewhere along the line and knew how he or she acted toward their betrothed. Could be that he sensed the same in Inuyasha and figured that he expressed his feelings in the same way as humans."

Sango spoke then, her voice quiet. "Do you think that this particular imp meant us harm?"

Miroku shrugged his reply and shook the imp again. "We should go check the lake, I have a sneaking suspicion that this little guy wasn't working alone."

With that Sango, Miroku, Shippo, and Kagome left the hut, Miroku still holding the imp, and began the trek to the lake. They knew that something was amiss long before they saw Inuyasha's campsite. The fire was out, the grass was pressed and the ground was ripped. There had been a struggle.

Sango approached the fire first and kneeled down, touched a hand to the ground. "There's blood here, lots of it," she said. She looked to the side and sighed heavily at the sight of a katana on the ground. "And Tetsusaiga is here."

Kagome rushed to her side, concerned and afraid. "Is he okay?"

Sango shook her head and rubbed her fingers together. She got to her feet and moved away from the fire, following the trail of pressed grass and blood toward the tree line. The others followed behind. "I don't know, Kagome," she said at length as she examined the tree line. "Providing that the blood was his he lost a substantial amount. If he's alive he's certainly not in good shape."

"Where is he!"

The two women wheeled around to find Miroku sitting on the ground violently shaking the scared imp. The monk was distressed (and so, too was the imp), and clearly the stress was beginning to manifest. They all knew that Inuyasha was weak that night, weaker than they all wanted to believe, and he was in desperate trouble. They didn't know what the magic binding imps were capable of, whether alone or working in cooperation with a stronger being.

"The castle!" squealed the imp, its voice high pitched and fast. "He was taken to the castle! I was assigned to retrieve the shard and deliver it safely!"

Miroku sighed, realizing that this particular imp held no loyalties. "Where did you put the jewel?"

"Hidden, it is!" the imp replied, crossing its tiny arms over its chest. "You will not find it. Likely it is that my brothers have found it already, taken it to the lady!"

"You will take us there, to the castle," Miroku demanded.

The imp shrugged noncommittally. "Perhaps."

The monk reached into his robe with his free hand and produced a sutra. He waved the paper in front of the imp's face threateningly. "You will take us to the castle," he repeated more forcefully this time. "Or you will be bound and in pain."

The imp's tough facade melted away. "Yes, yes! I will take you there!" he cried. "Please do not hurt me I was just following orders!"

Miroku replaced the sutra in his robe and produced another, stuck it to the imp's back, and set it down on the ground. "That sutra binds you to me, demon," he explained. "You may not venture more than ten yards away from me or you will suffer a painful death."

"We should leave right away," Shippo said quietly from his perch on Kagome's shoulder. "If we don't find him soon it might be too late."

The others nodded their agreement and the imp sighed deeply. His loyalty had been tested, he had failed, but he figured that death by his master was preferable to death by an angry monk. Besides, he thought, perhaps he could escape yet.