Disclaimer: All Inuyasha characters/themes belong to their rightful owners (not me). Please do not sue.
Author's Note: What a nice collection of reviews! They were very thought provoking, and I enjoyed reading them a great deal.
In a staggering new resolution-both this story and Project Armageddon are slated to be finished before the end of this year. I am moving to Cali and am planning my wedding, and have a lot on my plate stress-wise, but I'd love to get these finished! I'm going to try to say one update weekly-we'll see how that goes.
Reviews are always appreciated.
Chapter 7, Narcotic Niceties
It was a beautiful morning, which Sango resented with every bone in her body. It was sunny and warm. She stepped into her stiff black dress and held up her hair as the maid zippered her up. She leaned in close to the mirror and applied some color to her face. She toed her way into her black heels and buckled them. She took her purse from the end of the bed, and walked out into the hallway.
"Sango-san," said the man at the end of the hallway, "should you be walking?" She recognized him as her father's best friend. His arm was in a sling, and his head was bandaged. He was one of the lucky few. His wife hadn't been so lucky.
"It doesn't hurt," she lied.
They walked down the stairs together, and climbed into the black limo. She didn't cry. Her back ached, but she wouldn't sit, wouldn't show pain. She bowed to the people who approached her. She exchanged empty words of thanks, and listened to thousands of condolences. She poured sake over the graves of her father and brother, her uncles and aunts, her three-year-old cousin, her neighbor, her best friend… She clasped her hands in prayer and knelt down in front of the graves in her dress, dirtying her knees.
The sun shone brilliantly above in the cloudless sky. The day's warmth pressed down upon her back and eased the throbbing pain in her wound. The doctors had told her that she was lucky to be alive.
What did they know?
"Sango-sama?"
Sango looked up. There was a young lady with black hair and dark eyes. She was dressed in black like a mourner, but Sango had never seen her before.
"My name is Higurashi Kagome," she said softly. "I hope I won't cause you too much trouble." She paused and looked around her before kneeling down beside Sango. "On behalf of Sector 4, my father, and myself, I'd like to extend our deepest sympathies and condolences."
"Sector 4?" Sango asked.
Kagome blinked. "Your father never spoke of Sector 4?"
"Never," Sango said, looking back at the grave. "There was a lot my father didn't speak to us about."
"It's where he worked. Your uncles, too," Kagome said. "My father and yours worked together. They were close friends. Your father was one of the best on the force."
"What are you saying? What is Sector 4?" Sango asked.
Kagome leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your father and uncles were Tokyo's finest, most skilled spies."
"Spies?" Sango echoed. "But then…"
"That's right," Kagome said. "The attack was far from random."
Sango narrowed her eyes and looked Kagome over carefully. She had an honest face, and her dark eyes were filled with a sympathetic frown. If there was one thing her father had schooled into her, it was how to read people, and this Kagome girl wasn't lying. "Why are you telling me this?"
"What if I told you that Sector 4 is interested in your assets as the daughter of Kawate Shigeki? What if I told you that they would give you the chance to avenge your family?"
Sango looked at the long line of graves before her. She looked at the crowd of mourners. She stood, and Kagome stood with her. She turned to Kagome. "Where do I sign up?"
(-)(-)(-)
When Sango woke up, there was an envelope and a small wrapped box on her nightstand. The envelope contained a long-winded, two-page novel of an apology letter from Watanuki. The box contained a replacement comb—a beautiful hand-painted piece of ivory. Sango sighed, left the items on the nightstand and went for a shower. When she was dressed, she left a note for Kagome, and headed to Watanuki's suite.
Watanuki was dressed in a stunning robe of rich silk, lounging on one of the room's many sofas with a laptop in front of him. He smiled warmly and invited Sango inside. His bodyguard sidestepped out of the doorframe to allow her entrance, eyeing her with a sidelong glance as she walked past.
"I'm sorry to call so early," Sango said, looking right into Watanuki's smug face.
"It's fine—I've been up for hours with work anyway," Watanuki said. "I'm so sorry about that comb, my darling. I understand all about sentimental attachment, but I hope my gift was somewhat conciliatory."
"It was beautiful, Gousuke. Thank you," she said, her eyes on the floor.
"Should I call for some tea? How are you feeling today?" he asked.
"No, no tea, thank you," she said. "I'm still feeling very weak, but better."
"Will you sit?" he asked, motioning to the sofa on which he sat.
"Thank you," she said, coming over to sit next to him.
"Now, what is it you came all the way down here to talk to me about?" Watanuki asked, putting his laptop aside, and taking her hands in his. Sango's eyes flickered over the screen face, but a screen saver concealed whatever Watanuki had been working on.
"I wanted to apologize about last night," she said, forcing a light blush into her cheeks. "I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful for your kindness…or unaffected by your advances.
"Not at all," Watanuki said. "I know the game very well, my turtledove, and I've played it many times. As I'm sure you know, it's hardly a chase without some resistance."
"You're very generous," she said.
"It's in my nature." He smiled.
"I can see that." His smile grew. She shifted so that her skirt slipped up a little along her thigh. "I'm so relieved to hear that you're not sore. You see, Mutsu left yesterday on some very important business, and well," she paused and giggled. She leaned in closer and much to Watanuki's pleasure, placed a little kiss on his lips before continuing. "He asked me to make a good impression. He's ever so eager to secure your business."
"Is he?" Watanuki asked, smiling as he slid one hand up Sango's exposed thigh.
"He only trusts me with his best clients," she said, swallowing her pride as she licked his ear.
"Sato?" Watanuki called.
His bodyguard appeared. "Sir?"
"Take a hike. Don't be back for…" he stopped as Sango discreetly unbuttoned his topmost three buttons. "An hour."
"I don't think that's a very good-"
"I didn't hire you to hear your thoughts," Watanuki snapped viciously. "Get lost right now."
"I'll be waiting outside if you need me," Sato said. "If I hear anything suspicious..."
"Yes, thanks, mom," Watanuki snapped.
Sato bowed and walked out the door.
Watanuki grabbed Sango forcefully around the arms and pushed her down on the couch. Sango's stomach turned as he lowered himself on top of her. Just a few more minutes, she coached herself mentally.
"You smell ravishing," he said, lifting his face from the crook of her neck.
"Do you like it? Mutsu gave it to me for my birthday."
"Mm," he managed. He was starting to slow down, his movements becoming less focused. He moved to her shirt and fumbled vaguely for the buttons. He laughed. "It's divine."
"Are you alright, sweetie?" Sango asked as he abandoned his quest and tried to kiss her neck, though he missed and kissed the throw pillow instead. He laughed again, realizing his mistake. Sango slipped out from under him neatly, a motion that surprised him and caused him to sit up and refocus.
"Where are you going, my minx?" he asked, smiling crookedly.
"Aren't you going to follow and find out?" Sango asked, looking over her shoulder.
Watanuki leapt up from the couch, and weaved along the hallway to the bedroom following Sango. He almost knocked over a statue on his way. Sango rolled her eyes as she unbuttoned her shirt and kicked off her shoes. She turned slowly so that Watanuki could get a good look at her lacey, black corset before she slipped into the bedroom. Watanuki stumbled inside. She ripped off his robe, and pushed him on the bed.
"Reiko," he said huskily.
She climbed in and kissed him firmly on the mouth. He shivered, and then went limp. The narcotics in her perfume had taken effect at last. "Sweet dreams, sicko," she hissed, standing and pulling her hair up into a ponytail, out of her face. She mussed the satin sheets around him, and smeared some lipstick marks on his face and chest. When she was finished, she ran out into the sitting area, where Watanuki's laptop lay open for her perusal.
She pulled out her cell phone.
"Kagome-chan, I'm in. Ready to start decoding?"
Thirty minutes later, Sango had relayed all the information available at her fingertips. She started the shower. Then, she wiped the laptop keyboard, carried it back into Watanuki's room, and rubbed his prone fingers along the keys. He responded with a vague murmur, but a quick kiss on the lips had him snoring again in seconds. She dashed back to the sitting area, replaced the laptop, and waited for the screen saver to pop back up. When everything was arranged to her satisfaction, and with five minutes remaining, she stepped into the shower, and rubbed her neck to free it from any residue of the narcotics. She removed the antidote patch under her arm. She wrung her hair dry, got back into her clothes, and stepped out of the bathroom just as Sato was walking down the hallway.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, pulling her shirt closed. "You surprised me."
"Where's Watanuki-san?" Sato asked.
Sango covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. "Sleeping."
Sato frowned. "Typical. Well, then." He gave her a wholly disapproving once-over. "Is there anything else?"
"Just my shoes," she said, gesturing to the articles, which lay on the floor behind him. He stepped aside so that she could collect them. "Oh! And…" she hurried back into the room, and grabbed her engagement ring off the floor. "Wouldn't want to forget this," she giggled. She allowed herself to be led to the door.
"When he wakes up," Sango said, "tell him it was…unforgettable."
"I trust you have everything you came for," he said, turning away from her.
"Oh yes," she said, smiling as the door was slammed in her face. "Everything."
(-)(-)(-)
"We're very impressed, Sango-san," Watanabe Domeki said as Sango entered his office. "Very impressed indeed."
"Thank you, sir," Sango said, sitting down.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"Much better, sir," Sango said, fighting back the heat in her cheeks. "Thank you."
"No clues as to who might have tried to poison you?"
"No, sir," Sango said. She adjusted her blazer, bidding time while Watanabe Domeki checked his email.
"Takara-san is in today," Watanabe said, his eyes still glued to the screen. "Have you seen him?"
"Miroku?" Sango asked, looking up.
"The same." Watanabe's eyebrow twitched in response to her exclamation.
Sango collected herself. "No, sir. I haven't seen him."
"Well, go find him. He's got your next assignment. You'll be flying out to England within a week. To investigate some of Watanuki's allies." Watanabe still hadn't looked up from his email. "That will be all, Sango-san."
Sango stood, bowed, and left.
(-)(-)(-)
Miroku was in the weight room, bench-pressing. His sinewy arms shone with a thin layer of sweat, and his face was flushed with the heat of exertion. He caught sight of Sango when he sat up, and motioned for her to wait for him. He grabbed his bag out of the locker and headed for the showers.
Sango stood in the hallway, a rock in the pit of her stomach. She was acutely aware of Miroku's mother comb, which sat, rolled up in a handkerchief, in the bottom of her purse. She charged through scenario after scenario, and decided that there was no good way to tell Miroku that she was responsible for the shattering of a family heirloom.
"Hey," Miroku said calmly, coming up behind her and startling her badly.
"Hi," she said, collecting herself quickly with a faint blush.
"Here's the assignment," he said, holding out the folder to her. "How's your English?"
"Impeccable," she answered, in English. "My dad had me tutored from an early age."
"Mine's decent enough. I learned in school, and well, from movies. The mainstream route, I guess," he said sheepishly, also in English. Sango cursed silently to herself when she realized that his English was in fact more authentic-sounding than her own.
"We're American students studying at Oxford," he said. "Kimberly Takahashi and Joseph Hamada."
"Great. I can't wait." Sango said, tucking the file into her purse. Her fingers brushed the handkerchief. She swallowed hard, preparing herself, "Listen, Miroku."
"I know. I'm sorry I left so abruptly," Miroku said. "I almost sacrificed the success of the entire mission…again."
"No, no, it's not that," Sango said, surprised.
"I hear that you did pretty well on your own," Miroku said, looking at the ground.
"Well, I-" Sango started.
"I guess you really are a lone wolf type, huh?" Miroku said.
Sango put her hand on his arm to shut him up. "Miroku, I wouldn't have been able to get those files if you hadn't given me an in. I owe you." She replayed the words in her brain a second later as Miroku's expression softened and a smile formed on his face. What in the world was she saying? Of course she was a lone wolf! She didn't need anyone! She could have weaseled her way into Watanuki's confidence with the subtlety of a chainsaw, and Watanuki still would have been too distracted by her curves to notice. Men were easy, expendable. She didn't want Miroku as a partner, and she certainly did not need him!
"-this evening?" Miroku was saying
"What?" Sango asked.
"What are you doing this evening?" Miroku asked.
"Um," Sango said, suffering slight mental whiplash from moving too quickly from her inner dialogue to this one. "Nothing."
"Dinner at seven? I know this great French restaurant," Miroku said.
"Seven?" Sango repeated. "Like a date?"
"No," Miroku said immediately, laughing.
"No," she repeated, laughing as well. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it."
"It's fine," he said. "No worries." He started walking away. "Seven then. Dress is business casual."
"Right…seven," Sango said, watching Miroku turn the corner and feeling more than a little bemused. "Seven."
-Ichimu