Update! Update!

XD

Anyway, new chapter! This took me a while to write, but I hope you like it

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot.

btw: This chapter is called "The Second Encounter." The first chapter was "The first Dance"

I trailed behind Inuyasha and Kikyo, Kirara nestled in my arms. They were snickering, softly, speaking to each other in low tones. I could hear them. They didn't know that, of course, but I could. They thought I had imagined it, but I hadn't. He'd been there. He really had. I couldn't prove that. I wish I could, but I can't—I don't know how.

At the foot of the stairs I stopped, hesitating, unsure of whether to return to the ballroom or just go home. I took a step in the direction of the ballroom, but then spun around and headed towards the door. Kirara suddenly pricked her ears and sat up, her large eyes wide. I was about to say something when I stiffened with a slight change in the temperature.

"Where ya going, Kitty?"

I drew in a sharp breath of icy air and glanced down the hall in both directions before slowly turning to face the speaker. He was there again, standing several steps up the stairs. He was leaning nonchalantly against the railing, eyes half-closed and a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He was the image of utmost calm.

"You…why did you just disappear up there?" I demanded in a hushed, angry voice. I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself. Two of my friends already thought I was going nuts. "My friends think I'm crazy!"

He shrugged. "I didn't know them."

"You didn't know me!"

"Yeah, but I do now." He sauntered down the few steps until we were eye-level. "Besides, you're nice. I can sense it." I took an instinctive step back. "Maybe you can help me."

"Me? What can I do?"

His eyes narrowed and he suddenly changed, in a way. He seemed to be staring at something over my shoulder, but when I twisted around to see, there wasn't anyone there. We were still completely alone. Then, in a dead-serious voice, he said, "Hey, Kitty, get back to the ballroom."

"But…I was going to—"

"Go on. Now."

I was a little spooked by his sudden change. Even Kirara seemed tenser. "All right," I replied. "But first, what's your name?"

He seemed almost taken aback for a split moment, but quickly regained his composure. "What's yours?" he countered.

"Sango. Now tell me your name."

"All right. You can call me Bankotsu."

I nodded and started towards the arched ballroom door. I called over my shoulder, "Okay, I'll remember that."

I passed through the doorway, paused, and glanced over my shoulder. Nothing. Empty. Damn. He's fast. I weaved through the crowd, trying to make it back to my little corner. I brushed past some couples, of course, but most seemed to accept my apology and resumed dancing as soon as I had passed them. But of course, there was always someone more than willing to make a scene.

"Sorry," I muttered as I slid past another couple, accidentally bumping into one of them.

"I'm so sure you are," a familiar, icy voice sneered.

Before I could react someone grabbed my shoulder, spun me around, and shoved me. Not too hard, though it was their intention. It was just too bad they weren't very strong. Kirara hissed and jumped the floor, the fur along her spin spiking up as her back arched. Her mouth gaped in a fierce snarl and another hiss escaped her lips. Kirara's eyes flashed coldly and Koharu jumped back scared.

Again Kirara snarled, taking another threatening step forward.

"Call of your little rat!" Koharu shrieked.

"She's not a rat!" I snapped, my frustration building. "She's a cat."

"Whatever; just call her back!"

I rolled my eyes and bent down. I really didn't need this. As I reached towards Kirara, there was a sudden flash of movement and then Kirara squealed in alarm. She was thrown off to the side, where she lay, growling. I jerked to my feet angrily. "Miroku!" I hissed. "What right do you have to kick her? She didn't do anything."

"That little…," he began, then trailed off, glaring at me.

I scooped Kirara up in my arms, crooning softly, and then returned his glare, matching it with equal—if not more—ferocity. "That's like animal abuse!"

"I really don't need this shit," he replied crossly. "And I especially don't need that demon threatening my girlfriend."

"And I don't need some jackass kicking Kirara around!"

That's when Koharu shoved me again. Or tried to, at least. It didn't do much to me except get me angry, but it did cause my arms to jerk, jarring Kirara and sending another pang of pain through her. Kirara writhed for a few moments and then fell limp. "What is your problem? I didn't do anything to you two!"

"Yeah, right," Koharu replied nastily.

"I didn't."

Koharu seemed about ready to try something. I noticed her giving Kirara the evil-eye and turned my shoulder to her. No way were they going to hurt her again. And that's when Kagura decided to intervene. She shoved her way through the crowd, not even bothering to apologize. Not that anyone even noticed her pushing them aside. She marched right up to Koharu and demanded, "Are you looking for a fight?"

"Stay out of this, witch," Koharu said.

Kagura's red eyes flashed. I knew she tended to lose her patience when she was called that. She was testy about herself, being a wind sorceress and all. "Listen here, you little bitch—" she began.

""Stay out of this!" Miroku snarled, moving towards Kagura dangerously.

Several things happened at once then. Sesshomaru glided easily through the crowd, amber eyes cold as he stepped beside Kagura. Koharu yelped and took a sudden step back, ducking her head. Kagura and I both jerked back on instinct and Miroku tried to turn to see what was wrong.

Crack!

The sound was incredible! The sound of shattering glass echoed eerily throughout the massive room. Shards of glass were whipped in every direction, scattering within ten feet in every direction of Miroku. Bits of glass had long, deadly jagged edges tipped in blood. Ribbons of blood twisted through the air and plopped onto the tiled floor, staining the smooth white floor and snaking in long narrow streams through the crowd. Gasps of alarm filled the room.

Gasping, I turned my eyes to Miroku. His eyes were wide with shock, blank and fogged. He staggered a few steps before lurching to his knees and finally collapsing on his stomach. There was a nasty, cleanly-cut gash across his left cheek. Blood trickling down the length of his face.

I swallowed fearfully. There was no way this could have happened. I wasn't anything near a cop, but judging from the wound it looked as if a very strong person had swung something made, obviously, of glass—perhaps one of the tall glass cups at the buffet table?—with incredible strength. Except…I hadn't seen anyone sneak up on Miroku, and I'm sure anyone would have said something if they had seen someone.

Koharu suddenly found her voice. She let out an ear-piercing scream and stumbled backwards. Everyone seemed to come alive just then. Everywhere people seemed to pushing and shoving, trying to get to Miroku.

"Get back! Give him air!" someone shouted.

"He's dead!" someone else screamed.

Koharu shrieked.

Someone else pushed forward, knelt beside Miroku and grabbed his wrist, checking for a pulse. For a moment he was silent and then the man stood and said, "He's not dead, just unconscious."

"Someone call 911! An ambulance!"

I felt someone grab my arm, right above my elbow and I looked up to see Sesshomaru. He had Kagura's arm in his other hand. I tried to struggle free, but he was a demon, therefore stronger than me. He led us away to the front hall and then finally released us. He gazed at us with calm golden eyes. "We have to go."

"What?" Kagura flared.

"If we leave they'll try to blame us!" I replied snappishly.

"They cannot," Sesshomaru responded. The calmness in his voice matched my frustration and Kagura's anger, but he was also firm. "There are witnesses. If they wish to speak with us then they will just have to come see us at home."

I sighed and gave in. "Fine."

Kagura put her finger-tips to her temple. "Yeah, okay, whatever. Go and see Rin, Sesshomaru. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

His eyes softened slightly and he nodded. "Very well. Good night."

He was out the door a second later. Once Kagura was sure he couldn't hear us anymore, she took my arm, pulled me off to the side, and demanded, "Okay. What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" I stammered.

"Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," I defended.

She looked at me skeptically. "Liar," she insisted. "Tell me."

I glanced anxiously around us, making sure no one was within earshot—or anywhere near us—and then explained everything. Everything. When I finished, she put a forefinger to her chin and rolled her eyes upward, looking thoughtful. "You think I'm crazy too," I moaned.

"No. Not at all." She met my eyes again. "You said his name was Bankotsu?" I nodded. "Okay. Hey, can you meet me at that old antique bookstore?"

I jerked, surprised. Kirara mewed softly and I cradled her, positioning my arms so she was comfortable. "Tonight?"

"Tonight," she confirmed.

"Okay," I agreed.

"Great. I'll meet you there."

"All right," I replied. "I'll see you in an hour."

--

About a half-hour later I was in my car—a minivan big enough to transport several animal traveling cages—with Kirara, who had recovered from the kick to her side, curled up in the passenger seat. She had her tails curled under her chin, with her forepaws on her tail-tips and her head on her paws. Her ears twitched and flicked whenever we stopped or started moving again. She occasionally looked at me with her intelligent red eyes, but after a while dozed off.

It took me another half-hour to drive to the antique bookshop. Te bookshop was run by Izayoi, Inuyasha's mother, and Kaede. The bookshop was downtown, somewhat of a distance from where I lived. But it wasn't too far. As I pulled into a parking space I stroked Kirara's spine, gently waking her and wonder aloud, "I wonder what Kagura wanted…"

Kirara stretched, sat up, cocked her head and mewed in response. I smiled and held out my arms, allowing Kirara to jump into my hands and race up my arm where she perched happily on my shoulder. I shut off the engine and dropped my keys in my jeans pocket. I opened the car door, pressed the small flip that automatically locked all the doors, and then made my way to the entrance of the bookstore.

The bookshop itself was pretty small, kind of old fashioned. The doorway was narrow, and the door had two large glass windows set into the wood, separated only by two or three inches of more wood. A small silver bell jingled as I stepped inside. Book cases were all over the place, ranging from about two feet high, the smallest, and all the up to the ceiling, the tallest ones. There were signs nailed on the side of book cases or supported by a wide chunk of wood from behind set atop the highest shelves stating the genre of the books. The books themselves were crammed into the shelves, and when the shelves were filled to capacity crates piled with even more books were pushed up beside the shelves.

The air had a slight musty tang but the shop was old, and besides, I was used to it. I always came here when I needed a book.

Izayoi looked up and smiled. She moved out from behind to counter and came to greet me. Tonight she was wearing a long black kimono trimmed in red, with a crimson cherry blossom pattern. Her long black air swept out behind her. She shook her bangs away from her eyes. "Hello, Sango."

"Hello, Izayoi." I glanced around curiously. I couldn't see Kaede anywhere. She was usually the one at the counter. "Where's…Kaede?"

"Oh, she's sick. Poor dear. Don't know how. Just…happened," Izayoi responded. "It was sudden, really."

"Oh. Well that's too bad."

"I heard about what happened at the party," Izayoi continued. "Is Inuyasha all right?"

"He's fine. He didn't have a single thing to do with the fight."

"Oh, good. And wha about Sesshomaru?"

"He's fine too." Even though Sesshomaru wasn't her own son, she still acted remarkably like his mother, rather than a step mother. Sometimes I get the feeling Sesshomaru is a little annoyed by it, but at the same time doesn't mind it much. His own mother died before Inuyasha was born.

"Okay, then. Kagura's in the back."

"Thanks." Izayoi pointed to the far corner, a smaller section of the bookstore that had a small round table and three chairs. Kagura was surrounded by several stacks of thick books. Some were hardcover, with the colors and lettering badly faded, some were leather-bound with scratches and markings set into the leather, and the rest were paperbacks, a few torn covers and some without a cover completely. "Hey, Kagura." She jumped about a foot into the air and out of her chair when I spoke. She looked up at me and smiled.

"Oh, hi Sango."

"Hi."

She had changed out of her earlier clothes and was now in a plain white T-shirt, black jeans, and a black jacket with a red imprint of a hawk on the back.

She shoved aside a stack of hardcovers and I took a seat beside her. I took a single glance at the books and was instantly suspicious. She was in the 'Paranormal/Supernatural' section, but I merely assumed that it was only because the chairs and table were here. The books she had chosen had things to do with the paranormal—you know, ghosts, demons, spirits, the devil, all that shit—and she also had some old newspaper clippings I hadn't noticed before. The story was from about a hundred years ago, from the date on it, but it was pretty obvious the headlines and whatever had been copied into this clipping. I could even see one older leather-bound book about criminal history from the date on the newspaper.

"Kagura, what is all this?"

"Look at this," she replied, ignoring my question. She delicately placed the newspaper in front of me and tapped at it with her forefinger. "Read it."

With a shrug I began to read. The headline read: Serial Killer Strikes Again. That got my attention—slightly. I moved my eyes away from the headline and down to the actual article. Kirara leaned forward and mewed, her eyes hardening as she focused.

The serial killer known throughout Tokyo as "The Barbarian" struck again. Apparently, for one reason or another, The Barbarian and his accomplices got into a fight with a local gang, ending in the brutal murder of three of the gang members, whereas, from the surviving gang member's account, the Barbarian and his accomplices escaped unscathed.

One of the members had been decapitated by a swift, clean blow. Another had been violently stabbed and had died from devastating wounds to internal organs. Another appeared poisoned.

When questioned about the identities of the attackers and their appearance, one survivor answers with, "They told me if I should ever rat them out, they'd come and find me and kill me."

The Barbarian has yet to be found.

When I finished Kagura placed a second clipping over the first and I began reading again.

Old Victorian Burns with Killer in it

Last night the huge, abandoned old Victorian near the woods edging the city went up in flame and burned down to ashes and rotted, charred wood. With a killer in it. The police had finally cornered The Barbarian within the old mansion. Evidence shows he had been trapped in the attic.

It is unknown whether who started the fire. The police to chase out The Barbarian? The Barbarian himself to elude capture? Or perhaps another unknown person? Whoever it was, it's unknown the chances of ever finding out are slim to none.

The Barbarian's remains were never found, but the evidence of where he had been killed is proven by a small scrap of burnt clothing found among the wreckage.

I swallowed and forced away the uneasy feeling creeping up within me. I pushed the newspaper aside roughly. "Hey!" Kagura exclaimed. "Watch it! Those are old."

"So," I asked as she gathered up the clippings. "What else do you want to show me?"

"These." She reached behind several thick books and pulled out a small cardboard box. She removed the lid and gently set the box between us. There was a bundle of old photographs tied with a red silk ribbon. She removed the bundle from the box and undid the ribbon. She spread the photos out and then leaned back to let me see. "Go on," she said, motioning with one hand for me to see. "I already looked at them."

I gave her a somewhat irritated look and then took up the pictures in both hands. I skimmed through them, not really bother to look at most of them closely. One that did catch my eye was of a picture of the Victorian burning. Flames were rising from the roof and protruding through shattered windows. Columns of smoke escaped into the air with through those same windows or holes burnt through the roof and walls by the flames.

A small section of the woods behind the house had been included in the snapshot. I noticed a small, murky shadow between two of the trees, a little out-of-focus in the dim lighting. I tapped at the shadow with the tip of my forefinger and asked, "What's that thing?"

"Huh?" Kagura leaned closer, took the photo from me and examined it thoroughly. After a moment she said, "Oh, that. I noticed it too. I guess it's just a glitch in the film."

I wasn't so sure, but didn't say anything. I just nodded as if I agreed and Kagura set the photo down. "Okay, so now what? Is this all you wanted to show me?"

"No." Kagura bundled up the photos but didn't tie them. Instead she reached back into the box and pulled out a photograph she'd separated that I hadn't noticed earlier. She set it down carefully in front of her, out of my reach, face down. Then she pulled the criminal history book closer and flipped open to a page she'd bookmarked. "So…you said this man's name was Bankotsu…?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Well. It just so happens that this book has information about a greatly feared serial killer named Bankotsu. He terrorized Tokyo for several years. His accomplices killed on his command—well most of them. There was one that killed whenever he wanted, and this Bankotsu didn't like it. He killed people who double-cross him. He'd also killed dozens of gang members for trying to start fights with him. It says here that once you get in his way, there's no hope. But that didn't mean he didn't kill innocents either. He killed just about everyone."

I went pale. "Oh…shit. He's a serial killer? Why…why didn't he kill me then? And why was he at the Victorian?" My mind reeled and snapped at the information as I blurted out several doze questions.

But when I focused on Kagura, she didn't appear shocked or surprised or anything. Just solemn. Wasn't she worried? Why…? "Sango…he's not alive."

"What? That's not possible!" I snapped.

"Sango…he lived a hundred years ago, in the late 1800's and early 1900's. He died in the Victorian fire."

"No!" I shouted, cupping my hands over my ears. "You're lying!"

Kagura's face remained serious and solemn. "Sango…"

"No!"

"He's dead."

I bet some of you saw this coming. But now it's been confirmed.

R&R and you get a cookie :D