The Cruel Twists of Fate

by Personification of Fluff

AU, R for sex, violence, and language. As the war against Shrabranigdo comes to head, Miroku and Sango's relationship may make or break the tides of war. But when tragedy strikes Miroku, Sango's has a choice: her job at the IBSP, or treason and Miroku.

11. The Cards Speak

Chapter Ten: The Cards Speak

"Do you think he'll ever recover enough to want to talk to us?" Akane asked Sango. She never took her eyes off of the teenager behind the cell wall.

Edward Elric was still huddled, though they had managed to take his brother's body from him. His knees tucked under his chin and his hands caught under his knees, he still rocked back and forth with blind eyes. Sango even doubted that he recognized he was in jail.

They had taken him to see Fuu, but she had been unable to offer him much help. She had vowed, however, to continue to keep trying to get through to him. His mind, she had assured them, was intact underneath his exterior, but it was wrapped in layers of denial, pain, fear, and even lust. To make sure that his mind continued to be intact she needed time to work away all the other feelings that were hiding his mind. Only then would they be able to learn what had really happened.

"Fuu's a good psychic," Sango told her best friend.

"That didn't really answer the question."

Sango quietly stared at Edward before answering. "Something warped this boy's mind. I don't know if Fuu's got the talent and the power it takes to unravel the psychic webs that Shabranigdo—or somebody—left behind. Worse, I don't know if Fuu can handle it. She's such a nice woman. I don't think there's a mean bone in her body. She's going to see what… what someone did to that boy. When she breaks into his mind, she's going to see how Al died and see it all with Edward's feelings mixed in. She's deceptively strong for looking so fragile-looking, but Fuu's got a tender heart. I just don't want it to be something so horrible that… that we lose Fuu, too."

Akane stared at her a moment and then back at Edward. She didn't want to see Fuu like that either. She leaned up and threw her arm around Sango's shoulders. Under her embrace, Sango relaxed, but not enough to ease over Akane's feelings that there was something wrong. "I'm sure that Fuu will be just fine. She's had ages of experience at this kind of thing."

She was considering asking if Sango felt okay. For the past two days she had been unusually quiet. Sango was quiet by nature, yes, but this was a little too odd. In the past two years, Sango had been smiling more, despite the dire situations in which they often became entangled. That, Akane knew, was the result of Miroku. Only Miroku, she had concluded, would also be able to do the averse and take away the happiness that he brought out in Sango.

Before Akane could ask, however, laughter cut her off. Deep and rumbling and baritone in nature, there was a slight hint of insanity to it that made goose bumps run over her flesh. It was as deranged as it was pleasing.

"You poor, stupid little things," a voice crooned. In the cell next to Edward's an older gentleman leaned over, letting his silver hair hang between the bars of his cage. Akane and Sango stepped over to him to see that it was Inuyasha. The cold bars pressed into the pale skin of his forehead. From behind ebony-colored lashes his gold eyes bore into theirs. "If you let me out of this cell I could have tracked down Kagome two years ago. Then none of this never would have happened! Trust us, you said. Help us, you said! Help us end this, you said!"

"We do want your help!" Sango interrupted.

Inuysha's clawed hands snapped out between the bars of the cage. Sango tried to move, but he was too fast for her. His claws snagged the hem of her blouse and he dragged her forward, slamming her body against the bars. Spittle flew from his fangs as he yelled.

"Then let me out! I can find her! I can smell her! I can find her, just let me out of this goddamn cage!"

Sango struggled against him. Her knee slammed up in instinct only to meet the metal bars of the cage. Inuyasha threw her away. Sango's supernatural balance kept her from falling at the sudden release.

Akane stared at him. Once upon a time, he'd been a doctor. His long hair now hung to his knees in ragged waves. His bangs were out of control. His gold eyes held the slight look of madness and his pale skin had been bleached by incarceration. He held his body with tension, his shoulders, arms and feet braced. He didn't look like a man anymore, despite the physical appearance. He looked insane.

The guards were running, their stun guns drawn and ready to subdue Inuyasha. Inuyasha, for all of his insanity, was ready to take their punishment. When the door to his cell opened and the two guards came in, he did not retaliate. In fact, he never took his eyes from the faces of Sango and Akane as they watched. The guards stuck him and he did not flinch. The guards didn't seem to notice that the girls were still there as they stuck him again and again.

The stuck him so many times his stubborn knees finally gave out and he fell to the ground in a heavy lump, finally breaking the spell he had seemed to cast over Sango and Akane. The guards filed out and locked the cell door. Inuyasha did not move. One of them spat, and it landed in his hair, milky-white compared to the silver strands of his fiercely delicate hair.

"Sorry you had to see that," one of the guards said. He took Sango's arm and pulled her away, even though she didn't want to go.

"The good doctor has gone a bit insane. He howls day and night to be released, saying that he can hear his wife calling to him. More'n a bit deranged if you asked me," the other guard reported. He took Akane's arm and pulled her away. The two guards let them down the hallway and back to the exit. "Next time stay far out of reach of that one. You never can tell when he's playing with you and when's out for blood."

"B… blood?"

The guard glanced down at Akane. "Yeah. He bit one of our guards last week. He said that he'd drain every last one of us of blood if we got in his way. The good doctor constantly tries to break out. Not a week goes by that he doesn't try. Keeps saying that his wife is calling to him."

Akane looked at each of the guards in turn. "But… his wife is Shabranigdo… I mean, she's possessed by the demon. She can't call him. She's not even a psychic."

"Exactly," the guard agreed. He pressed the button for the elevator which would take them back up to the surface and out of the lower depths of the old IBSP building. "Like I said, he's deranged."

The quieter guard looked down at Sango. He'd noticed the tears rolling down her cheeks, but had said nothing about them. Feeling his eyes on her, Sango turned to him. She didn't even seem to know that there were tears on her cheeks. Her brown-gold eyes were sad. "Whose order was it to use stun guns on him? Whose order was it to beat him into submission whenever he became rambunctious?"

The guard's jaw dropped at her quiet, probing questions. He tried to find words for a few moments, stammering, and then he answered her, spreading his hands helplessly. "It's just procedures, Miss…"

Her brown-gold eyes turned suddenly harsh. "Who!"

"It's just procedure…"

"To hell with procedures!" Sango yelled. She tore her arm away and stomped away from them, never daring to turn her back on the guards. The other guard was so surprised he released Akane, who was just as shocked at Sango's outburst. Worse than her voice, however, was her eyes. They were wild. Not insane, like Inuyasha's, but like the eyes of a predatory animal caught by hunters and trying desperately to flee. "I've had enough of procedures! I can't fucking stand the word 'procedures' anymore! If I find out that you did that to one more prisoner, I swear to god that I'm going to come down here and use those sticks on you! Let's see how much you like being spat on or beaten down into the floor!"

Marching into the elevator, Akane hurried after her, leaving the two guards stunned. After the doors had closed, it was Akane's turn to yell, ignorant of the way that Sango's body was shaking uncontrollably.

"What the hell was that, Sango? I mean, I was pissed too, but you're supposed to be the one with self-control! What's going on? First Miroku freaks out, and then you… neither of you have been acting normal! Don't think that Ranma and I haven't noticed just because we're not the ones who have heightened senses or empathy!"

It was too much. Sango couldn't stand to have Akane mad at her too. She threw her arms around Akane, launching herself on her best friend. She was trying hard not to cry, but it wasn't working. "He can! Oh, God, Akane, he can! He's a demon. They don't understand! Those guards understand! He knows exactly where Kagome is! He can find her! He was supposed to help us! Sesshoumaru used me to get to him! They used me to go to Inuyasha and now they keep him leashed and beat him regularly all because he's… he's different!"

Akane comfortingly put her arms around Sango. "Slow down, slow down. It's okay, Sango. What do you mean he knows where Kagome is?"

Sango sniffled. "Demons… especially wolf demons, have the ability to know where their packs are. Kagome is Inuyasha's pack. Sure, he's not a wolf, but he is still a dog. They still have strong familial bonds, if not ones for… you know, marriage. Cats don't have any. We don't have family bonds at all. But dogs do… he can smell out Kagome. He can scent her out. He can! And yet they keep him in there, letting all these bad things happening… Why?"

"I…" Akane was stunned. Finally, she found her words. "I don't know, Sango…"

The doors beeped open. Akane looked up to make sure that the way was clear. She felt her cheeks turn red when she realized that Miroku was standing right there and there she was, holding a sobbing Sango. She watched as Miroku realized who she was holding. His pale grey-blue eyes widened and tentatively, he reached out to stroke her hair down Sango's ponytail.

Her head jerked up when she felt his hand. Sango's tear-filled eyes closed when she saw him. She didn't want to see Miroku and she didn't want Miroku to see her crying like this. Is hand moved against her hair, letting it slip between his fingers in gentle waves. Sango instinctively knew that he was inviting her to use him, to seek comfort in him. She wanted to. Her body all but floated from Akane's to Miroku's. His arms supported her and she clung to him tightly. She couldn't believe what Inuyasha was going through and she dared not imagine Shabranigdo taking over Miroku. His wonderful hands kept brushing her hair.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry that I said that! Please forgive me, Miroku!"

He was silent, stroking her hair and holding her. He didn't say that she was forgiven. What she had said was the truth, and they both knew that. He was a liability; he was weak; he was human. There was no need to forgive her for telling the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

XX

Kisuke Urahara was the one guy in the IBSP that everyone secretly wanted in some way. They wanted him because he was friendly, or because he was smart, or because he was silly. Some of them even thought that he was cute, in a geeky, scruffy kind of way. Kisuke knew about it, and did nothing about it, making them want him all the more.

'Modesty' they called it. Modesty had nothing to with it. Urahara never drew attention to the way girls flirted with him or blushed around him because he knew they liked him for one, or possibly a few things, about him. Only Sango had wanted him because of the person he was and not for the individual qualities he displayed.

Urahara had wanted Sango as well, but it had been up to her to decide who she wanted to date, of course. She had chosen Miroku, and Urahara was forced to accept her choice. It was not, however, done entirely without the acknowledgement that she had made a good choice. Had she decided to date someone who treated her like crap, or who abused her, then Urahara would have forced himself between them in a heartbeat. No one hurt his goddess.

He still loved her, though perhaps not as intently as he had two years ago. It was impossible for him not to love Sango. They had backgrounds that were incredibly similar. He'd watched her grow up. He loved her for how cute she had been at six, the feisty twelve year old, and the calm and rational adult she was now, and the woman she would yet turn into. He loved her when she was human and he loved her when she was in her tiger form. Urahara could not help it the way the sun could not help rising every morning.

Often, it was only years of temperance and experience that at times caused him to refrain from reaching out and touching her the way he'd used to, or to plant a goodbye kiss on her cheek when she left. Instead, he'd pick up his pet cat, and would pet him to avoid the temptation.

What the worst about the entire situation was that Miroku knew how Urahara felt. Rather than begrudge or be jealous of Urahara, Miroku simply remained impassive whenever they met. He did not flaunt who he was dating to spite Urahara, but he also made it clear with his reservation that he did not approve of the way that Urahara continued to look at Sango. Miroku had to know, of course. He was a smart man, well-versed in love himself, and psychic to boot. To Miroku, Urahara's feelings had to be as clear as daylight, while Sango remained peacefully unaware.

It was for this very reason that Miroku had feared and dreaded and put off Kakshi's advice of going and talking to Urahara. He didn't think it was proper, and he didn't want the other man to hurt. Never had it occurred to him that Urahara, being jealous of what Miroku wanted to do, would give him unsound advice on how to ask Sango out. Urahara was too gentlemanly for that. He was too proper and, sometimes, even wise. He would give Miroku the best advice he knew, and it would break his heart to know that Miroku would not only date Sango, but to ask her to marry him as well. Miroku didn't want to put another man through that.

But he was going to try. And then, on his way down, he'd met Sango and held her in the elevator…

Miroku wasn't going to go and see Urahara on advice about wedding proposals. He had a much bigger problem to contend with. Until this one was conquered, Miroku was just going to have to keep the ring in his blazer pocket a little while longer.

The elevator beeped and he stepped off the elevator to what the agents referred to lovingly as the "Bond level". It was where all their equipment had been created. To give an agent permission to go to the Bond level was like Christmas to them: new watches, new bullets, new accessories for their guns… But this wasn't a work call, it was a social call, and Miroku did not need permission.

He stopped a technician who seemed to be playing with a belt. Miroku stood a moment, inspecting it. He was wrapping a thin wire filament into the underside of the belt buckle. The belt, he also noted, was surprisingly feminine looking.

"Do you like it? We're going to add hinges to the belt. When it's activated this hinged part will shoot up and attack itself to something. Then the person wearing the belt just has to pull themselves up."

Miroku smiled at the technician. "What? It won't pull them up for them?" The other man laughed. Miroku leaned over and touched the thread he was winding around. It was as thin as hair. "Will that even hold someone?"

"More than one, in fact. Have you ever heard of a Buckley Ball?"

"No."

"It's an idea that some big-shot proposed of a manufactured molecule made entirely of carbon. How much do you know about carbon? Not much, eh? Well, carbon is an element. Depending on how the carbon is arranged, it has varying strength. Graphite is made entirely of carbon, but there's a very weak molecule structure and as a result, it crumbles very easily. That's what pencils are made of. In comparison, diamonds are made entirely of carbon, but because the carbon molecules are arranged in a different way, giving it a lot of structure, it's rock hard… and harder. Diamonds will cut just about anything. Now, a Buckley Ball in comparison, is shaped like a circle. It's perfect, really. All weight is evenly distributed, there's no weak spots… hence the ball. You ever try popping a baseball or a basketball? It takes a lot of weight for something so small. This little puppy can probably carry… three people? It's not tested yet, of course…"

Miroku looked confused. "How come I haven't heard of this stuff before?"

The technician's smile grew wider and he leaned back proudly in his chair. "Because the rest of the world doesn't know how to make it yet."
The surprise on his face was priceless. He patted the other man's back. "In that case, I don't think I want to hear anything else in case I slip. I'm looking for Urahara. Is he hanging out cloistered in his office still?"

"Since you started dating Ms Tora? Heh. I think that the guy made himself a bed and sleeps on his desk. He's the one who was able to come up with a manufacturing procedure for this stuff. He says it just came to him one night. Urahara's been working us real hard since Ms Tora stopped coming to see him. Go on in and bug him. He's not against that, he's just… you know… trying to keep his mind off of her."

Nodding understandingly, he thanked the man and went to the office. After being let in, Miroku was quite glad not to see a cot anywhere.

"Miroku? Welcome, welcome," Urahara flamboyantly greeted him. "What can I do for you today?"

Miroku would never be able to understand how people thought that Urahara was attractive. He would never see it. He was always so… wacky. He always wore silly geta sandals, even in inappropriate weather, and gi pants and an overly large coat… and that silly forest green and white hat that always hid his eyes. Underneath it, Miroku suspected, if Urahara ever cleaned himself up then maybe he could understand the girls that cast eyes Urahara's way. It turned out that Urahara had beautiful, clear blue eyes, like those of a Russian blue cat. With his pale skin and sculpted chin, it did give him a certain otherworldly quality. Tall and broad shouldered, he didn't need the geta sandals to give him extra height. And he acted so goofy… he was like a little kid…

Rubbing a hand over his eyes briefly to refresh himself, he wondered why Urahara was staring at him so. Then he realized that the other man's acute senses could probably pick up Sango's tears on his clothes. He helplessly spread his hands. "We had a bit of a fight, Urahara."

"You're not a dumb man, Miroku." Urahara's sudden chill in his otherwise friendly voice made Miroku shiver. Even the cat on the desk twitched his ears and began flicking the end of his tail, picking up on the agitation in the room. To Miroku's empathy, the effect was easily more than doubled. If he had a tail, it would have been lashing. "That's why I'm going to guess that you didn't start this fight, otherwise you wouldn't be here. If you did, I swear to…"

"I'm human," interrupted. He turned away, unable to face Urahara. He began to inspect his bookcase instead, letting his fingers touched the spines of the elderly books to keep his hand busy. He didn't know what to do with them. "We fought because I'm human. I'm not as fast, I'm not as strong… she called me a liability." There was a flash of anger in his mind at the sudden feeling of pity that Urahara gave off before he reeled his emotions back under control. Hearing it would piss anyone off, but when it was two men, raised by society to think that they were the defender…

"She's right, too. I am a liability. I'm not good at unarmed fighting. I always need a weapon. I try to chase down a criminal and I need to stop and use a puffer because of the conditions of my lungs. Sometimes, when it's really hot or cold out, it hurts just to take a deep breath. It feels like little knives are stabbing me. Worse, I talked to Sango… she's going to keep aging, isn't she, Urahara? She didn't mention any numbers but…"

"But you guessed that I was the one who was helping her to run them? Yes, I was." Urahara sat upon the edge of the desk, letting his fingers stroke his pet cat. "I don't recall the numbers, and in theory the results are confidential… but by the time you're an old man, Miroku, Sango will still be in the prime of life."

Urahara was impressed when Miroku didn't show any shock at the results. Maybe, the other man suspected, he'd already known, deep down. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miroku."

"So am I. There's no way to speed down Sango's aging, is there? It's genetic. Even if we could, her mind would still be aging slower. And if that couldn't," he added with a snort of disgust, "I couldn't do it. It would be too much like murder. Sango could have centuries ahead of her, and I would be taking that away from her."

Urahara said nothing, though he was in agreement. He knew that there was something Miroku was getting at…

"I love her," he continued in a small voice, though it grew the more he spoke. "I love Sango. You know that. You love her too. I know you still do, Urahara. I want to marry her. I have the ring and everything." Miroku moved to the desk and took out the ring, showing it to Urahara. "I want to spend my life with her, but I don't want to trap Sango. I don't want her to have to watch me waste away…"

He licked his lips nervously. With Urahara on the desk Miroku could see into those clear-blue eyes, and for once he wasn't picking up a single emotion from them. It made him nervous. "If I want to live with Sango, then there's only one thing I can think of. I need to become a half-demon, too, like Sango. Is there any way, Urahara-san, that I can do that? Can I become a half-demon?"

The dam on those blue eyes broke. All of Urahara's emotion came rushing out, overwhelming Miroku. He tried to speak, but Miroku already knew the answer from those waves of sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, spreading his hands helplessly. "There's nothing I can do. There's only one person with the power to make humans into half-demons. That person is Shabranigdo."

"But… I mean, in movies, you know…"

"Those are movies. This is reality. Unless you were born half-demon, there is no way to become immortal, or a half-demon, or well-aged, or whatever you want to call it, except through Shabranigdo. He has the ability to change people on a genetic level. When he changes people into half-demons, there is no difference between them and someone like Sango or Inuyasha who was born half-demon, with perhaps one exception. Any demon that Shabranigdo creates must feed on humans. Vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters… it doesn't matter what type of demon you become, the cost is that you would need humans to live. When that happens, you'd become renegade, Miroku. It would then be our job to capture you, dead or alive."

"But… if I… if one could learn to control it…"

"If there was a human capable of controlling the blood lust, I haven't heard of it yet. But…." Urahara sighed and rubbed his head. The cat beside him mewed, upset that he was ignoring him. "But you make Sango happy. I can't let you go without some kind of hope, Miroku. I'll take some samples of your blood. Maybe we can't turn you into a half-demon, but we'll see what we can do about giving you a long life, at the very least."

Miroku smiled, but it was weak. "Thank you, Urahara."

"Hey. Don't mention it."

XX

Miroku didn't see Sango again until later that evening. They'd gotten a call from Hitomi Kanzaki, telling them that everything was ready. Akane had received the call. Apparently Hitomi doubted how effecting the Tarot reading was going to be, but Akane had easily calmed her down, eased her worries, and told her that even the slightest hint would be wonderful.

As they drove to the house, she pointed out from the driver's seat: "Let's face it. We know that this Group is behind it, but until Edward is ready to talk, we don't know where they meet or how to find them."

Her point was infuriating, mainly because she was correct. According to the students at Merle's school, all of the missing people had two things in common: they were becoming depressed or isolated and they were attending some kind of a group therapy. They had asked around in public places where teens usually hung out, but there was nothing so far. If kids did know anything about this group. A lot of kids knew only to stay away from it, telling them that "it messed with your head".

That, at least, was a good sign. If the word of mouth got it around that this group was bad news, then maybe less people would attend it. Miroku tried to make himself believe that, but it wasn't any use. In the end, a teen's world was ruled by an adult, and adults tended to be less inclined to believe teenagers and children. It always amazed him how children were well aware of the demons lurking around them, under their bed or in their closets, and yet adults turned a blind eye to all the signs and their children's stories.

If an adult decided that their child or teenager should be attending this session, then there was nothing else to do but to send them in. Adults would, if necessary, forcibly march their children inside.

And once a child was inside, there was no turning back. Miroku had seen Shabranigdo's henchmen before. They were hand-picked, and all of them had the same qualities. Besides a streak of ruthlessness underneath a beautiful smile, they were beautiful and seductive without even trying to be. Miroku didn't know if was hormones, pheromones, their aura, or something psychic. All he knew was that those people could charm their way out of anything… or into anyone. That was why they still worked as a group of four. Even if one person became snared by Shabranigdo's follower, they were still three other people there to help break the spell.

But for a lonely teenager? There was no one to save them…

No, there was. There were still them, Miroku pointed out to himself. But the combined abilities of Akane, Miroku, Ranma and Sango were worth nothing if they couldn't find out where they were meeting.

"The rules are such," Hitomi said from the living room. She knelt behind the kitchen table, Van beside her. He gestured for them to take seats around the table while Hitomi shuffled the cards carefully, using her fingertips adeptly to find the corners and make clean cuts. "The cards can not tell you where. They may sometimes be able to tell you who. They may sometimes be able to tell you how. The easiest thing to do is to ask them yes or no questions with the reading we are going to be doing. We're going to be doing the simplest formation."

"What's that?" asked Akane.

"You will ask your question. Whoever asks it will cut the deck. The next three cards will be turned over and will be the answer to your question. Three cards will give us an answer to your question. This way, you will be able to get a somewhat accurate answer and ask more questions. Van will tell me the cards and their position and I will be able to interpret them. Just remember to ask your question out loud so I can hear you."

Hitomi placed the cards on the table and folded her hands in her lap. He posture was perfect as her invisible gaze seemed to touch each one of their faces in turn. "Who will ask first?"

Ranma, sitting at one of the corners reached over and took the desk. "I'll ask first. Practice run for making sure the cards or working right or something," he grumbled. Thinking of something else, he stared at Hitomi and Van. "You two are aware that whatever is said tonight is said in confidentiality, right? Good. Who's responsible for taking the kids?" He cut the deck and turned the new top most card over. "The Devil?"

"Is it upright or upside down, Van?"

"Upside down."

"Hm. I thought so. This would be the card symbolizing Shabranigdo. The Devil is seen in his chariot, being pulled by his slaves. The Devil is depicted as a beast, and also depicted in the picture are two naked figures. One male, and one is female. It depicts someone who is ambitious. Because it's upside down, it's talking about the negative aspects. That is, someone who lets their carnal instincts rule them."

Sango snorted. "Slavery, exuberance, and nudity. Yeah, that sounds like Shabranigdo. Guess that means that the good spirits are listening to us tonight."

Van reached over and touched Hitomi's hand gently as Ranma turned over the next card. "The next card is the Hanged Man. Rightside-up."

It was easy to see how the card got that name. It was rather obvious. The card depicted a young man, rather good-looking, bound and hanging from, of all things, his feet by a branch. Sango peered closer at the card from over Akane. "It… it looks like he's smiling."

"He is," Hitomi said. "The Hanged Man usually stands, among other things, for someone who takes pleasure in pain. He'd being killed, but he rejoices in it. I'm afraid that I don't know who that could be…"

"I do." Sango glanced at the others. Although Akane knew him the best, Ranma and Miroku were both familiar with the man as well. When she glanced at Miroku, she saw that he had come to the same conclusion as she had. His hands were clenched tightly beneath the dark coffee table, and there was a creased frown on his handsome face. He, she knew, was jealous. Sango felt her face flush, wondering why he was jealous. She didn't know if she should be offended that he was jealous of someone she hated or if she should be flattered he was so protective of her.

For Sango, she was leaning towards the latter. She felt a rush of emotion that made her insides shake and her cheeks deepen even more. There was nothing more attractive than a man being dominant. It came from the tiger inside of her. The more another tiger-demon was protective, the more attractive he was to the females of his species. The more likely he was to care for his mate and to ensure his children grew up before he left. Sango forced the feelings away to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Suichiro."

Ranma snapped his fingers. "That's right. That jerk-face is working for Shabranigdo now, isn't he? He hasn't shown his ugly face in years…"

"Good riddance," Miroku snarled as Ranma turned over the last card. Miroku stared at it. Van was already relaying it to Hitomi for interpretation, but Miroku already knew what it mean. It was the King of Swords.

Miroku had had some experience with Tarot cards before. He knew that each suit in the deck was representative of the four elements. The pentacles stood for earth; cups for water; staves or wands for air, and sword for fire. The King of Swords, the king being the strongest of the face cards in any deck of cards, was the master of the fire. A powerful man with strong associations to fire, passion, and the myriad of other things which fire could stand for. One of the lesser known symbols for fire was knowledge. The idea behind it was logical. Fire shed light. Light was a universal symbol for intelligence, shedding away the darkness of obscurity of naivety.

Ergo, the King of Swords stood for the strongest man behind Shabranigdo, and a man of considerable knowledge.

"Rezo."

The others turned to look at him. He was so resolute they didn't need to ask how he'd come to that conclusion. They simply accepted it.

"The only trinity," sighed Akane, staring at the cards. She sighed and took the deck from Ranma. She shuffled it and then cut it. "What do they want with these people?" The first card she turned over was the moon.

Sango thought it looked peaceful: a large full moon complete with craters, and underneath it a howling wolf. If she were a wolf, that would be the type of moon she'd find attractive, she thought. But as Hitomi puzzled over it, Sango began to doubt her assumption about the card. Maybe it wasn't such a nice card. Nice cards, she thought, should be easy to interpret.

"The Moon card symbolizes… insanity, among other things. Its two extremes are genius and madness. The only thing…" She reached out tentatively to touch the card. Van's hand reached out to help guide her. Their fingers entwined lovingly, but the moment her finger touched the edge of the card Hitomi gasped and pulled back. She stuck her fingers in her mouth to ease the pain she felt in them. The card was hot to the touch. She swore she'd been burned by it!

Miroku looked down and realized that in surprise Sango had instinctively reached down and touched his hand. She felt his eyes on her hand and looked down. Blushing, she pulled her hand back as quickly as she could. She folded her hands in her lap, chastising herself.

"Are you okay, Hitomi-san?"

"Let me see it, hon."

"No, I'm okay Van. Don't worry Akane." Despite her words, her face was pale. "Experimentation. Change. Insanity. That's what the card is trying to tell us. He... she… it… whatever that foul creature was that I saw, it's doing… things to people, to change them."

Ranma's eyes were wide in his face. "He's making them in his image. He's making an army."

As Akane and Sango tried to deal with this surprise, Miroku leaned over across the coffee table. "You saw him, Hitomi-san?" She nodded. "He didn't… I mean, there's no reason to think that he's aware we're doing this and putting you or your family in danger, is there?" Instantly the conversation between his three partners stopped.

"N… no, no. I don't… I don't think there is, anyway. I'm not probing his webs or his shields or anything. Anything the cards are showing me is being shown to me… like a reflection. Nothing I'm doing is active." She turned to look at Akane, but Miroku could tell she was still distressed by what she saw. Her face was flushed and there was a light glimmer of sweat on her forehead. "Please, go on Akane."

The second card she turned over was the lovers. Again, Hitomi had to puzzle over it because she could give an answer. "The card symbolizes love. Perfect unity. Normally it's a wonderful card, telling you to go after something because it's right. But this… it doesn't seem right… it's… it's corrup…" She stopped mid sentence. Faintly, she smiled before it was lost. "Lust. Corrupt love is lust. They use the people they capture to fulfill their…" Suddenly, she seemed to remember that many of the people missing were children, even younger than her own daughter. Hitomi's voice was barely audible. "They use the people they capture to fulfill their sexual needs."

Sango's voice was flat and cold. "Only natural considering that Shabranigdo likes to use succubae." Miroku reached out to slip his warm hand between hers. She shot him a grateful look. Despite her tough exterior, she was affected by what Hitomi was telling them; she was more affected than even she'd like to believe. After all, once upon a time, that had been her who was being preyed upon by a demon who had grown to like children. Her voice tightened a little. "The last card, Akane."

With a shaking hand, Akane turned over the third card. She wished she had never asked her dumb question. It meant nothing to her as she sat staring at the card. Half an hour later, she couldn't remember the card's face for the life of her, but she could remember Hitomi's interpretation.

"Fulfillment. Satisfaction. Food. Insatiable hunger. Food. They use them for food." Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She kept wiping them away. No one wanted to draw attention to them. Finally, Van had had enough. He knew the four of them were just doing their jobs, but he couldn't stand seeing his wife like this. He placed an arm around her shoulders.

"One more question. Then I'd like to ask you all to leave."

Miroku took the deck of Tarot cards from Akane. "I have a question. We think that a self-help group is being used as a front to lure people into a position where Sharanigdo can abduct them without causing a public disturbance. Now, these cards won't tell us what the group is called, I know that, but it should be able to tell us how we can infiltrate them, won't it?"

"You're a Seer… you don't use the cards very often, do you Miroku?"

He shuffled the deck, concentrating on his question. "Fuu and Ferio got me a pack when I was younger. I never really liked using them very much, but I didn't tell them. I find that scrying using a bowl of water is much more effective than cards, but I don't like looking at the future. It uses too much of my energy, I'm not very good at it, and I lack a natural talent at it. The only thing I can see are auras, and even then, ever since those drugs stopped being pumped into my system, I haven't seen anything except for really strong feelings."

His eyes glanced towards Sango as he said the last part. Sango's emotions were almost always strong. She never felt anything on a small scale. Even if the rest of his talents faded, he'd always be able to see the changing colors of Sango's auras. Whenever he teased her and told her that she lighted up his life, he hadn't been joking.

Miroku didn't really like being called a Seer. Seers usually saw things. Miroku saw very little. He was not a fortune teller, nor did he predict the future. All he did was read people. For all of his psychic powers, he might as well have been simply picked for his ability to manipulate words, they were that much of a contribution to the group.

"How can we infiltrate the group?" Miroku asked the cards. He turned the first card over. Beside him, he heard Sango gasp a little when he turned over the Death card.

Hitomi smiled wearily. "A gasp. The death card, right? I thought so. It's really been overdone by the media. Death does not mean death. It symbolizes change. It's the death of a way of life, or a thought, not of a person. It's telling you that to get into this group, you need to change."

"Change? Change what?" Ranma asked.

"I'm sorry." Hitomi sighed and spread her hands wide helplessly. "That's what the card means, and that's all it's telling me. I can try to determine more…" She reached out and touched the card again.

Miroku could see the strain on her face. He wished that he were still holding Sango's hand. With a gasp, her eyes suddenly snapped open. Open. Black holes of nothingness stared at Miroku. Ranma and Akane jumped in shock. Sango and Miroku remained steadfast. Miroku was barely even noticing. He was being pulled into those black, fathomless eyes, enticed by the strange throaty voice Hitomi was using. Blackness, blackness everywhere! Only the cards in his hands and the cards floating in front of him… He suddenly got the idea that she was talking solely to him. There was, after all, no one else in the strange blackness.

"Sacrifice."

Miroku blinked. "Sacrifice what?"

"I only SEE. YOU Asked the QUESTION. It is YOU who should Know the ANSWER. Sacrifice!" she hissed. "TURN the next Card!"

He obeyed. The card of Strength stared up at him.

"The SACRIFICE Must be Strong. Not PHYS-ic-CAL. BRAVE. Be Strong. Be BRAVE and the SACRIFICE May OVER-come. TURN the next Card!"

He turned over the card of Judgment. His heart raced in panic. Judgment did not sound happy. What if… the sacrifice really was a sacrifice and the cards were predicting judgment by his maker?

"FEAR not. Be BRAVE, like SACRIFICE."

"Yes," he said in a shaking voice. "I understand. I will try to be brave."

He had the distinct feeling that she was nodding, pleased with his acquiescent nature. There was a feeling of age in the strange voice speaking through Hitomi. Miroku felt very insignificant. "The Card of JUDGEMENT does not mean the End, Lamb. It means RESURRECTION!" The word thundered painfully across his mind. "Do you not SEE? YOU should! It is YOU who should Know the ANSWERS. YOU asked the QUESTION. To join this, THE GROUP, One must become the SACRIFICE. He must persevere with BRAVERY and then comes the RESURRECTION. Always, always, ALWAYS after SACRIFICE come RESURRECTION!"

He didn't know if he could ask more question from the Deck. That, he realized, was who he was talking to. Not Hitomi. The Deck was talking to him. He still held the cards in his hands. He began shuffling them. "What?" His head hurt. He felt rising panic as the darkness began to close in around him. He could not feel his feet. Looking down, he could no longer see them. "What must be sacrificed?"

The Tarot laughed at him. He heard voices laughing at him from all around him: some old, some young, some male, some female, and some distinctly not human at all. He knew how many. Seventy-six: the exact same number of cards in a Tarot deck.

"YOU ask the Question. The Answer is for YOU as well, Lamby-kins. YOU are the SACRIFICE. Lest the Road YOU tread CHANGES, YOU ARE the SEACRIFICE." His friends faces rose fleetingly to his mind before the pain drove them away. "If the road changes, One of THEM will be SACRIFICE."

"I won't let that happen! What must I sacrifice?"

The voices of the Tarot laughed again. "EVERYTHING and yet NOTHING. This can not be Foretold. There is TOO much. TOO many SACRFICES for you to Make. All WE can SEE is this." From nowhere, the card of the Lovers appeared in his hand. "YOU will LOSE this. Maybe it be Your HEART. Maybe it be Your SOUL. Maybe this be SACRIFICE to enter THE GROUP. Maybe no. Future not set in Stone. May CHANGE. Maybe no CHANGE. All We SEE is this. This be KEY. May not CHANGE. Hinge. Lever. Stone. KEY. IMMOVEABLE."

"Sango… I have to give up Sango?" He crumpled the card in his hand. Miroku threw it away. The card was absorbed by the darkness. "I'm never going to give up Sango! Never! I love her! She loves me!"

"IMMOVEABLE!"

"No!" Miroku turned the next card over. It was the Death card. "No!" The card of Strength. "No!" The card of Judgment. Death. Strength. Judgment. Death. Strength. "No! No!"

The darkness was rushing up to him. He could no longer see the cards. He could no longer see his hands. He was still crying out to the cards, lashing out with an anger he hadn't known before. He felt his hands suddenly as his tightly clenched fists caused his nails to break the skin of his palm. He felt his teeth still. They were cutting his lips. Terrified, he brought his hands up to his lips, feeling and tasting the blood. Darkness was swimming up to his chin. He was drowning in it. It felt like freezing water, numbing him. His numb fingertips could still feel his teeth. The slick blood he felt on them were as hot as fire to his skin. They were long, and sharp, and slightly curved, and when his tongue felt the tip his whole body shuddered with painful, illicit pleasure.

He didn't have the time to think the word. He didn't have time to give a name to himself. All he had time to do was recollect that strange nightmare from the morning before, where he had dreamt of Sango's body under him, and his teeth plunging into her neck…

XxXxXxX

"Are you okay?" Sango asked. Miroku's eyes shot open, startled. He realized he was still sitting at the coffee table. Hitomi's eyes were closed and she seemed just as dizzy as he felt. Sango leaned under him, looking up at him with eyes of liquid gold surrounded by burnished coppery lashes. She was a sight for sore eyes. "Miroku?"

He gingerly reached out to touch her face. Her cheek was soft and pleasantly warm to the touch. He saw a smile beginning to appear before she smelt the blood. She pulled his hand away and stared at it. "Miroku, you're bleeding!"

"When did you do that?" Ranma snorted. "Jeeze, you're more of a klutz than Akane. Oof!" Miroku flashed Akane a smile of thanks for elbowing Ranma for him. She winked back at him.

"God, I can't wait to go to bed." Sango released Miroku's hand after a thorough inspection. Apparently she'd decided that the wounds weren't life threatening or in need of stitches. "This has been such a weird day… Miroku zoning out and flipping over cards like crazy…"

He felt like a shot had been fired right by his ear. Miroku jerked to attention. So, he noticed, did Hitomi.

"Wha… what did you say?" she asked.

Van brushed her dark hair. "Don't you remember, love? You kind of seemed to zone out for a second, and then Miroku started going wild, flipping over cards. You called out their names without me to see them for you. Weirdest thing too. They were all the same three cards. Every single one of the cards left in the deck came up the cards of Death, Strength, and Judgment."

"But… but that's impossible."

All the cards were laying face down on the coffee table. Miroku didn't want to look, but he felt as if he could just see the card for himself, he'd see it was all just a big mistake. His hand began to inch towards the table…

BANG!

"Van-sama! Hitomi! I'm home!" The door had slammed behind Merle as she came home from school.

"Merle, how many times have I told you not to slam that damn door?" Van yelled at her. He then immediately regretted it, recalling that he had guests in the house.

Merle leaned around to peer into the living room from the kitchen. She was all smiles, contrary to what Miroku remembered of her from a few short days ago. "Sorry. Sakura came over. We have an English test tomorrow, so we want to do some late night cramming. I got a little bit carried away… RANMA!"

Her smile had been so wide that she hadn't noticed the four guests crammed around the kitchen table. When she did noticed them, she launched straight into Ranma's lap. Only his quick reflexes saved him from being squished as he caught her. "Ranma! Why don't you ever come over and play? You never write! At least Akane-chan writes to me to make sure I'm okay. You don't do anything!"

Merle seemed suddenly eight years old again, chastising Ranma. He sheepishly looked around for aid, but there was none to be found. "Well, Miroku and Sango never called you either!"

"I see Sango all the time!" Merle chirped.

Sango could barely contain her laughter. "She does. Merle goes and attends training twice a night to help with her little… problem."

"Problem? What problem? There's a problem?" Ranma looked back at Merle to see that there was a distinctly large, furry, and stripped tail coming out from underneath her skirt. Instantly he began to pale and try to untangle himself from her. "Ri… right. That."

"Miroku never played with me. Van-sama is always so careful… but you! You're tough! I could really let myself go around you!"

"Please don't! I'd ra… rather you didn't!"

Merle stopped, but not because he had asked her. Her nose twitched. "Hey. You four are all from the IBSP. Is that why there's that car full of people parked across the street? Are we being monitored? Are we being bugged? Are we?"

The lively mood which had accompanied Merle into the living room was suddenly killed. Ranma stopped fighting off Merle, and actually placed an arm around her waist, ready to move her out of danger if someone gave the key word. Sango's claws sunk out of their sheaths and she concentrated on her senses. Beside her, Miroku's hand reached for his gun to make sure it was safe. There was a barely audible click in the still room as he switched off the safety. Van and Hitomi were still, well aware of the change within their guests. Their entire demeanors had changed. Van tightened his grip on his wife as Ranma had on Merle, getting ready to take her out of danger. He shot Ranma a glance of relief for taking care of their daughter.

Only Akane did not seem to change. She was rooted; she was always rooted. That was her defense. "Merle," she said. "We came alone."

Merle never got a chance to answer as the front door of the house exploded open and five people barged into the room.

And then chaos erupted.

XxXxXxX

To be conitnued...