Forever Home - The Girl

~Kitty

"They were his environment, these men, and they were moulding the clay of him into a more ferocious thing than had been intended by Nature. Nevertheless, Nature had given him plasticity. Where many another animal would have died or had its spirit broken, he adjusted himself and lived, and at no expense of the spirit."
― Jack London, White Fang

Chapter 12: A place that shapes you and twists you and molds you

"C-could you repeat that?"

Miroku didn't have much chance to clarify. Soon they rounded a corner and were engulfed by a throng of excited, shouting bodies. They were shapes and sizes Kagome was not prepared for and she practically choked on her own tongue as her mind registered the horns and tentacles and assortment of other distinctly non human features. Hitomiko had to grab her by the shoulders and physically steer her through the crowd. Personal space was rudely invaded, sneers erupted nearby as demons joked with each other over which of them would have the first taste of the human offerings. The excited youki in the space was buzzing at the upper reaches of her tolerances. Kagome thought she would vomit over the dark, malicious auras that swirled around her and it was all she could do to keep her aura and the jewel suppressed in order to evade unnecessary attention. The ground she tread on felt sticky under her boots and the sweat that collected behind her shoulder blades was not just in reaction to the hot, muggy air. Miroku eventually guided them to a small opening in the crowd where they could see what everyone was shouting at and the scene that met her eyes made her cry out in heartbroken dismay.

…

It was dark and he was very, very cold. It would be his first new moon without his mother and his little heart pounded in terror as he tried to get the tree to absorb his body. The metal around his neck clinked traitorously when he shifted and he struggled to hold up the heavy chains in his arms. He'd used the last of his waning demon strength to tear the steel bindings from the wall before making a desperate dash to the woods. His mother had told him to never reveal his human night to anyone. He had to obey his mother. Torchlight glinted off the nearby leaves and foliage. Angry voices rose and fell.

"Find the demon half breed." "Kill it." "Kill the monster!"

The little boy stopped breathing, afraid that even the smallest sound would give away his position. The small, fragile figure trembled and tried to ignore the stinging around his neck where the hard cuff bit into his flesh. He was holding back sobs, thinking of his mother's arms so hard he could almost feel them. Around him, the very air he breathed seemed to mock him. There was an eruption of screams in the distance, thrashing, racing footsteps, and then silence. Such a cold, terrifying silence. Chancing a peak, he poked his little dark-haired head out from his hiding place within the roots of the old tree. Before him, dazzling in the moonless night, a tall, silver-haired man stood regally staring down at him, his expression neutral but his eyes very, very cold.

"Disgraceful…"

The deep baritone of the stranger's voice vibrated through him and the little figure cowered before the unearthly figure. Suddenly, he was in the air, for the demon had grabbed him, roughly, by the chains around his neck and lifted him up to inspect the trembling child. Weak hands clutched at the hard metal that scraped against his jaw bone. He couldn't hold back the whimper and the golden eyed man's face distorted briefly with a venomous hatred that shot through the his small, terrified heart like cold lightning. The man's eyes flashed with a fleeting emotion before the child found himself in flying through the air as the demon flung him into the nearby river.

The bite and clang of steel shackles was an ever present curse over his life. The heavy chains he bore as a child after his mother's death might have been the first time he experienced the raw hatred and fear human society had for him, but it certainly wasn't the last. His life became an endless migration from one temporary respite to the next. A ceaseless cycle of fleeting freedom followed by crushing oppression followed him, each successive captive state coming closer and closer to breaking his spirit.

When he met her, he thought his days of wandering might have finally come to an end. The lure of the power that hung around her neck was nearly irresistible, but it was not his nature to cut down the life of that which had not yet harmed him, and he lurked in the shadows for weeks, watching her, longing, craving, yearning.

His wrists and ankles still bore the evidence of his latest escape from captivity and he stuffed leaves and grasses into the steel joints to keep silent. For all his stealth, it eventually became evident that she was aware of his presence. There was a boundary between the two of them, stretching out a great distance. At first it was he that maintained it. With superhuman senses and a super human sense of mistrust, he initially maintained a distance that kept him out of her firing range, all the while observing her daily routine, coming to recognize the faces of the villagers, getting to know their plights and joys. As curiosity and a tender little desire for companionship grew inside him, the distance grew shorter and it was her turn to enforce the distance between them.

There.

Stop there.

Encroach no further.

It was many, many weeks before the distance shrank to a size that permitted conversation. She was curious about this spirit that had taken up residence in the forest and watched her. His observance of her activities unnerved her initially, and she hoped he would enter her range so she could be rid of the nagging presence. And then, slowly, the quiet, unobtrusive eyes following her throughout the day became just another aspect of her life, something she began to take for granted. Another season passed and the seed of curiosity grew in tandem with his and finally, they stood across from each other, she in the sunlight and he in the darkness of the forest, golden eyes shining.

The day was bright and the air was sweet and the yellow, softening lens of memory overlaid the scene with a saccharine taste as the echo of their heartbeats pulsed quietly in their ears. The first, awkward words were stiff and tense.

"Why do you lurk in the shadows, half-demon?"

Words did not come easily to a throat that did not converse often. His throat constricted, his mind went blank. Eventually, the only response he could manage was nothing more than a rush of air.

"Keh…"

"What are your intentions, for you to impose your presence here for so many seasons?"

The silence that answered her afforded no satisfaction for her curiosity.

"How are you called?" Her question hung in the air and the alien eyes seemed to consider how to answer. The voice that emerged was deep and coarse and wracked with suspicion.

"Demon, half-breed, mutt, bastard, monster, freak."

The eyes seemed to dare her to call him any one of these names, or to choose one even worse. Somehow, the undercurrents in his voice spoke to something inside herself and she felt her heart rise up to implore her to be kind to this creature.

"But what is your name?"

His expression lifted, opening up briefly in surprise. Then it closed off again and he answered.

"Inuyasha."

So his name is Inuyasha, she thought to herself, fitting. She gave him a soft smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Inuyasha," she told him across the distance, "My name is Kikyou."

"Keh…" he muttered, looking away. Despite the awkwardness and the hesitation, they both felt the distance shrink away further and Kikyou noted the iron around his wrists as he moved self-consciously under her gaze.

"I can release you from those enchanted shackles," she said, her hand raised in offering. Inuyasha flinched, for a moment she was afraid he would bolt. Interacting with him reminded her of a wounded animal, and her actions adapted unconsciously to this realization.

"Come, Inuyasha," she said gently, her hands outstretched. It was a long moment that they stood this way, her beckoning, him hesitating, before a cautious step forward and he emerged from the forest and the sunlight caught his silver white hair and Inuyasha stood in all his illuminated, proud glory.

The passing seasons saw them drift closer and closer together. They lost themselves to the relief and flutter of each other's company and with giddy boldness, shook off the wariness their histories had worked so hard to teach them. There was a foolish sense of security they had when they were together, completely disregarding the looming shadows that morphed and shifted around them. There was a naive willingness to ignore the dangers they invited with their forbidden friendship.

The shock of pain as her arrowhead pierced flesh was nothing compared to the hurricane of confusion that was unleashed inside him. He turned wide, golden eyes to her, his mind open and unguarded. He could not comprehend the angry, contorted face that glared at him in hatred. She raised another nocked arrow in her longbow. Its flight seemed jagged and it shrieked as it flew towards him. Pinned down as he was, Inuyasha couldn't do much but watch the slender missile as it sank into his flesh. He felt his own blood drip down from the wound and it burned hot against his chest. Still, he gazed at her without aggression or rage, just pain and confusion.

"What a faithful noble dog you are," her mocking voice was grating in his ears, not like her at all. The slender red and white clad woman held the powerful stone in her fist, gripping it so tightly, her knuckles were white. The innocently shining jewel shone brightly, almost gleefully, and Inuyasha briefly had the sense that it was laughing at him.

She has betrayed you.

She wants to kill you.

She hates you.

Whispers and doubts are easy to fan into angry, wild flames and the inferno in his chest released itself with a howl. The mind clamped shut but the damage was done. A bloody red haze fell over his consciousness and a white hot pain like nothing he'd ever felt before rent a gaping tattered hole through his heart. It was hard to say what happened after that moment, it was hard to recall much beyond the howls and the screams, the slashing and crashing, and the lashes, the ropes, the shackles, and it was a long time before he regained himself and awoke within another prison of chains, and bars, and slamming doors.

I curse you, Inuyasha!

I curse you! I curse you! I curse you!

You are mine, forever, and you will pay for your betrayal!

You belong to me and only me!

…

It was a brutal fight. It was savage. The roars and howls were buffeted by the racket in the crowd and Kagome felt each blow and tear the combatants landed on each other. It was very hard to watch. And yet she couldn't tear her eyes away. The wild abandon with which they fought. The bubble of primal terror it created inside of her. It was a chore to remember to breathe

The dark-haired man at her side nudged the girls and gestured upward, toward a VIP box window and the churning in her stomach turned to stone and dropped to the center of the earth. Sango's wide, terrified eyes were haunting and the image was seared into her mind. Beside her, Kagome felt Hitomiko tense. From the edge of her periphery, she couldn't read Hitomiko's reaction to the added complexity this gave their mission. Kagome clenched a fist around the charm on her belt and checked the hairpins nestled against her scalp. Her priestess mentor noticed her fidgeting and brought a hand to her shoulder to quiet her, and they both returned their attention to the platform below and the act of carnage taking place upon it.

He was a thing of wild beauty and there was something enchanting about the fearsome battle of fangs and claws. He thrashed, he slashed, he dodged from side to side and never permitting his opponent's wide, shaggy, knife tipped paws to make solid contact. The demon bear's hide was thick, yet the crazed, mindless dog parried away, working at the dense, protective fur and the heavy, loose folds of skin. It took a long time to pierce the flesh, the rake his fangs satisfyingly through the bear's tough muscled body. When the bear roared in pain and hot, steaming blood poured onto his face, the din from the crowd nearly drove him to distraction, barely able to right himself when the massive beast he was attacking threw him to the side like a rag. His body had landed heavily on the ground and bones and joints protested frantically as he forced himself to stand.

Fight. It was the very definition of his life. Fight for your life.

…

A splash of warm, foul smelling water fell cruelly across his face and he bolted upright in surprise. The position was odd suddenly to his body and he crumpled to all fours, his head and his body aching from a thousand blows. What happened?

There was a fire in the distance, a funeral pyre. The smells of burning flesh and muddy tears and the smoke that managed to reach him made his eyes water and he sneezed for several seconds, choking on the offensive odors that rolled his way. When he managed to collect himself, he looked up, past the wooden bars and gazed upon the angry grey column of smoke. Who died?

"It's all your fault," a choked voice accused, "It's all your damned fault you mother-fucking half-breed!"

He whirled around to face his accuser, confusion riding high on his face, but the man standing beside the cage hardly noticed.

"She said not to kill you," the man practically snarled at him. Golden eyes caught sight of a long object in the man's hand. A farming tool. A rusty bladed sickle. "She said you needed to live and be punished for your betrayal."

Inuyasha was pressing himself back against the back wall of this ramshackle prison. The wooden bars were hastily nailed planks that sat at odd angles and the ground had holes almost large enough to dig through to freedom. But there was no time for digging. The face of his accuser was smudged with dirt and ash and he'd been weeping for some time, long trails running down from his eyes and a crazed, bloodshot look gave him the appearance of a demon. But most demonic of all was the twisted expression that both grieved and raged at the same time and Inuyasha tried to keep his lips lowered over his instinctual snarl of defence. This human was not in full control of his mind.

Another man appeared behind him, and then another. The mourners were returning from the dying pyre and setting their angry, broken-hearted eyes on the caged demon and Inuyasha watched the changing expressions with apprehension.

"It's all his fault," they repeated over and over again, "She's dead because of him, our village destroyed because of him. The demon, the half-breed, the monster!"

The mob was now gathered around him, every instinct inside him singing in a frantic pitch to escape. They were closing in on him. They were going to kill him.

He still hadn't taken complete stock of his new, four legged shape, but his body responded to his mind and on instinct alone, he moved. The wooden planks left deep, painful splinters on his nose and tongue as he tried to rip through his cage. He dodged back and danced forward, reacting as the villagers came at him swinging their sickles and pitchforks at the cage. A crack, a man's heavy axe fell through the ceiling and ripping a long, jagged tear over his ribs, but Inuyasha seized this chance at freedom. The chaos of the mob worked to his advantage and his eyesight helped lead him to the forest, fleeing the raging crowd of humans that shouted for his blood. The wound on his side cried out sharply for his attention but he paid it no heed. Without a thought to what had happened or how he got there, he ran and ran and ran, the mind inside the long, canine skull buzzing in confusion and pain. And it was many hours later, as the moon dipped down and the sun slowly rose, when the winded, injured body of a large white dog collapsed beside a river bank, memory slowly returning.

'I curse you... ! How dare you betray me! You belong to me!'

Weeping was not possible within a canine body and his pain and his grief was expressed by a long, lonely howl that echoed into the brightening sky and sapped the last remaining strength he had and he finally fell into dark and painless unconsciousness.

…

His legs trembled, shaking droplets of blood from his fur. The bear demon before him groaned as it slowly bled out, Inuyasha's elongated claws having finally slashed through an artery that directly channeled blood from the massive creature's heart. The pooling red life force oozed outward slowly and touched the white dog's toes but Inuyasha could not be bothered to notice. The crowd was screaming at him. Screaming and pointing at something behind him and he turned, his ragged, ruined face aching as he sought out whatever it was the crowd wanted him to fight next.

The small, wide-eyed shape that huddled at the edge of the platform stared back at him and a tiny, terrified mew emerged from the kitten's throat. A surge of bile rose up from somewhere behind his gullet and he fought hard to keep it down. Blood ran in rivelets from his open panting jaws and he shook his pounding head, trying to rid his mouth of the taste of blood. He sniffed and he froze. He sniffed again.

The scent in the air was meek and fragile and but elicited a powerful wave of emotion flooding through him, as if trying to lift him up to answer the scent's call. The lifeline he'd kept close to his heart and used to haul himself back from every battle induced craze. It dangled before him now and despite the noise of the crowd and the knowledge that his fighting was not yet over for the day, his mind reached forward to grasp it. And suddenly the haze was lifted and he looked down to regard the black and tan kitten with clearer eyes.

And then, with a clear head, he recognized the scent and whirled around to seek out its owner.

…

A great time passed and what was once an overwhelming, burning pain dulled into an old, throbbing ache. And then the ache, ever present and never subsiding, became a part of him. And like all things that were part of him, it neither ached nor burned, but was a vestigial remnant of a time long passed and he no longer thought of it, did not remember when he acquired it or how. Villages and towns were built and destroyed around him. He roamed the empty mountains on the outskirts of slowly growing cities and settled into a remarkably satisfying life, on four legs, hunting and foraging his meals and running free over winter snows and flower dotted meadows. For a long time, he remained free and untethered, his body filled out, his coat was a magnificent pure white. But there was an emptiness that haunted him. And the further he roamed, the deeper it grew. And gradually, the hollowness was all he could think about and drew him more and more frequently to the edges and slums of the encroaching cities.

So fearful, they were, to witness his shimmering, regal form. The immensely proud stature, the healthy, gleaming fur. Stones and trash were launched in his direction, even in the shape of an entirely different creature, he received a hanyou's welcome, and so he moved on for a while, keeping himself away from human contact. Demons, surprisingly, offered him greater respect. As a somber creature in the forest, spirits that never visited him before would alight on his nose and probe the edges of his youki with unabashed curiosity. A strange domestic creature with a wildness and a power behind him that was unusual and intriguing. Weaker spirits tailed his adventures and enjoyed his successful hunts. There was much to be gained by following an apex predator. He was never without companions but he simultaneously lacked them. The gnawing emptiness within him broke through the numbness that had settled after her betrayal and still pulled at his heart and he could deny the longings no more.

"Hey there, hey there, hey there." a harsh, tired voice called out to him from the dark shadow cast by the man's worn down hut. What an odd turn of events. The wild dog stood gleaming in the silver moonlight and the dirty, haggard man was cast in shadow, stretching out a hand toward the ethereal beast, eyes bright as though beholding a god.

"Hey there," the man said again. The man was filthy, dirt and grime embedded in the deeply etched calluses on his hands. A working man who saw beauty and reached for in unconsciously, instinctively, and possessively.

"Hey there." The man's voice was coarse and grainy. The man's dull, brown eyes were beseeching. There was an instinct inside of the great white dog that told him to maintain his distance. But the empty, echoing void inside his chest leaned toward the dirty, beckoning man. A white, heavy paw lifted and stepped forward. Once again, he surrendered his freedom for the promise of warmth and once again, he will be betrayed.

For a time, he was a distant shadow, a thing the man could point out to his friends and boast about how he'd tamed the wild beast. At the end of long, fading days of hard labor, the ghost amongst the trees would creep closer and a work roughened hand would pat his head and he would feel suddenly, inexplicably happy to be in companionship with this man. But things progressed.

First it was a knot of rope looped around his neck. A gift, the man called it, so that others knew that he belonged to the man. And though a part of him reeled at the thought of being claimed, another rejoiced at the thought a belonging. When daylight faded and a long shrill whistle pierced the air, a glowing silver shape would trot expectantly from the darkness, tail high and proud. A crease began to develop in his fur as it gave in to the presence of the collar. The white of his mane began to darken to gray as the grimy hands patted his shoulders.

Then came the tether. A stout wooden pike stabbing the earth and limiting his movements. It was a startling transition and sparked turmoil within the regal creature. But the internal conflict would be assuaged by a the man's presence and Inuyasha eventually gave in to the tether, trading in his need of freedom for the balm of companionship. Tied down and bound to the man's land, Inuyasha waited long, long days for the chance to see the man return from work. In the rain, in the snow, in the beating, harsh, unforgiving sun. He waited, and waited. And then life whittled down to nothing more than long, long days of waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

Then there was the beating. When the man was unstable from his drink and tottled toward him, Inuyasha knew what came next. The once gleaming coat was tattered and gray. His now gaunt body creaked and groaned and submitted to the stick without a sound of complaint. But there was still a glowing ember inside him that remembered. And when nights were silent and still, golden eyes would lift up and search the darkness around him, mind dull from years of abuse and neglect.

The wind would whisper to him. Sing to him. Begged him to remember that he was a creature of the wild and the mountains.

There came a time when his body screamed defiance of the stick. And then his mind awoke suddenly to remember who he was and rekindled the prideful fire that lived inside him. And then rage. And then blood. And then shouting, and screaming, and even more beating. And then chains, and hands, and even more hands and suddenly, he was hauled off and away and removed even further from the mountains and forests, caged, and sent into a dark, dark place. The ship he'd been sold onto was a long and harrowing experience. The rocking of his body and surroundings made him vomit until there was nothing left to heave. At long last, the metal crate he lay in was lifted by careless hands and he peered out curiously at his surroundings as he was brought out of the cargo hold and up into the sunlight.

It was a new land and a new hope. Inuyasha observed the humans and their fidgety movements. It was many weeks before he was able to catch his chance at freedom. And finally, one night, the moon was full and the men were careless and the chain that bound him was not quite so tight. Freedom. It was an empty, lonely solace but it was far more rewarding that the cold, cruel company afforded him at the hands of men. There would be no more excursions into the city, he decided. He would stay in the mountains, roam the forest, relish the sweet spring air and bask in the sunlight.

But the mountains and forests were elusive, and everywhere he roamed in this new land, steel buildings and tar pitted highways spanned out before him. No matter where he roamed, man always caught him in the end. And chained him, and caged him, and forced him to bend to their will. Some were kind, and tried to ease him into trust, only to betray and abandon him when they began to suspect his true nature. Some were hard and liberal with the stick. For a time, he was a prized champion and a killer of many of his own kind. And the cycle continued, between fleeting freedom and crushing oppression until one day he found himself thrust into a barren, cement enclosure. A minimalistic space, with a drain, a raised sleeping platform, and a narrow trough in the wall for water. He was nearly broken by then, the repetition of chains and bars pushing through his defenses. But even in this state, his instincts remained vigilant, and he rushed every figure that dared stand before his kennel. Until one odd day, a slight female figure called his bluff, broke through the mindless, instinct driven beast and found the battered soul beneath.

"Hi there," she said, her voice soft and low, "Been through some hard times, haven't you, boy?"

…

Time unraveled between them the moment their eyes locked. The din of the crowd melted away and every buzzing nerve in his body focused on her stormy grey eyes that stared wide and tearful into his soul. At first, his eyes remained wild and shocked, not quite grasping what it meant to see her here. And then slowly, the golden orbs softened with relief, feeling a rush of familiar warmth as it took in the details of her soft face, before constricting in terror to realize where she was and the danger she was in. Before he even had time to transition from frantic concern to transformative protectiveness, the chain to which he was attached yanked hard and his body was thrown to the side.

"Allllllrighty folks! That's all the time we've got for our preshow entertainment!"

A quick, clawed hand descended down over the shivering tan kitten behind him and the gargoyle shaped demon beast master dragged him off the stage with an unfeeling hand on his chains. He struggled now, his claws scraping uselessly against the hard stone ground. Kagome, all his thoughts boiled down to this one thread, Kagome's here, Kagome's in danger, I need to get to Kagome. In his current state of exhaustion crossed with blood loss and a whirling mind, it was difficult to do more than ride this bewildered train of thought and before he realized it, he was back in his cage, chained to a wall, and staring at the black and tan kitten in the cell across from his like it was all her fault.

"Mrow!" The little thing muttered, uncomfortable with his glare, the heavy metal chain almost comically wrapped around her small frame. Inuyasha snorted and cleared his throat the best that he could in his body and looked away. There was no time to worry about the little creature's circumstances. He needed to get Kagome out of here. The gears in his wearied mind turned slowly, groaning and creaking in protest, but they moved, and slowly warmed up as they began to commit to the task of puzzling out just how he was going to (a) get out of this stone and iron prison, (b) locate the female wonder with a penchant for danger, and (c) get them both the fuck out of there. Golden eyes refocused on the kitten across from him. The crimson stare looked up questioningly and there was something about the fragility of this small creature's existence in this harsh place that tugged at his heart strings. Inuyasha sighed as he returned the red, innocent gaze. Ok, fine, and (d) get this kitten and that other human wench to safety at the same time.

There was too much to think about, too much to consider. The great white dog blinked. He took a long deep breath and let it out. Another fortifying breath. Kagome. He'd focus on Kagome. And with that at the hub of all his thoughts, he finally began to feel the surge of protectiveness that gave rise to a metamorphosis, and then it was no longer a four-legged, savage dog that Naraku kept in his dungeons.

…

"I have a pretty good lock on Inuyasha," Kagome heard Hitomiko whisper to her, "We should get going."

A part of Kagome's mind tried to follow, to nod that she had heard. But the other, larger part of the young woman's mind was locked on the platform, at the two person team being introduced as the Thunder Brothers.

"Welcome your favorite combo: lightning wielder Hiten, and his brother Manten the fox killer!"

Beside the handsome face of his brother, the creature called Manten puffed out his barrel chest, a fat, chunky hand patting the orange, silky fur wrapped around his waist. A trace of youki still clung to the shiny pelt and Kagome's heart went still as her brain tried to process what she was sensing.

'My papa…,' a tearful voice from her memory echoed in her mind to a backdrop of thunder and lightning.

'My daddy was killed by other demons…'

There was something unspeakably sad in the way the lovely fur glistened and shifted in the harsh stadium light. The sewn shut eyes and strangely peaceful look on the fox's face cried out to her somehow and something constricted around the heart in her chest. Beside her, Hitomiko whispered urgently into her ear.

"We have only this one chance to free your hanyou," she said harshly, "Focus, Kagome!"

Kagome gasped. Kagome blinked. Kagome forced her thoughts to focus on the task at hand and she shook herself before bringing her eyes to focus on the figure in front of her. The trio of humans shuffled to the back of the stands and huddled around each other. Miroku glanced from one girl to the other.

"So, I assume you ladies have a plan of sorts," he said leadingly.

Hitomiko favored the dark haired man with a dead panned look. Kagome took a sharp breath before leaning in and whispering.

"We have a rough outline," she said. Miroku groaned and dropped his head into his hands. The young woman huffed at him.

"Well, what was your plan," she countered, "Are you here completely on your own?"

"I have a guy outside for the getaway," Miroku said, bringing up a hand to press the women closer together against the wall as an odd assortment of demons ambled by, chattering excitedly about the match.

"I hope you have the skills to backup your confidence in entering this demon den on your own," Hitomiko said, her eyes measuring as she stared at him. Miroku didn't even flinch under the assessing gaze. His eyes looked past her and he absently touched his clothed wrist before taking in a breath.

"I have a trump card," he said, looking her directly in the eye. Hitomiko took only a second to come to a decision.

"Good," she said, deciding on a plan then and there. Kagome and Miroku had somber faces as they listened to her. It was risky, but it was simple. Miroku looked at the charm the priestess handed him with mild skepticism.

"You sure you won't lose track of me once you're down below the stadium?" he asked, fingering the flimsy, paper envelope.

"You shouldn't doubt the head priestess of your order," Hitomiko answered wryly. The young man's eyes opened wide at the information.

"P-priestess Hitomiko!" he exclaimed in a hushed whisper, "Forgive me for not recognizing you!"

The priestess waved him off. "This is not the time," she repeated, "Find Naraku's hostage and get out of here. We'll join you once we have the hanyou."

His face was serious as he nodded and turned down the passageway. Hitomiko glanced at Kagome, motioned with her head in the opposite direction, and started walking. The younger woman had stayed quiet, observing the sudden shift to respect displayed by Miroku. Her mother's teaching assistant was frequently overly polite in her prior experience with the man, but there was a sincerity in his stance when he recognized Hitomiko for what she was. It made her see her teacher in a new light and she pondered the straight shoulders moving forward in front of her for a time.

As they descended into the dark hallways behind the stadium, Kagome was painfully aware of the bobbing, waning smidge of ki that she felt moving upward and farther away. The frown etched onto her face was worried and grim.

"Do you think he'll be ok?" she whispered to the woman in front of her, "Do you think he'll get to Sango?"

The priestess took a firm hold of Kagome's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Focus, Kagome," the older woman said, "Remember your lessons. The boy has spiritual power and he seems competent. Don't let your attention stray from your task or you are bound to fail."

Grey eyes blinked and settled and Kagome took a fortifying breath. "How're you so sure of yourself here?" Kagome asked, "These tunnels are like a labyrinth!"

"A crowded labyrinth," Hitomiko answered, pulling Kagome into an alcove in the wall and shushing her as several demons stalked past. "Use your senses, find the youki moving through the tunnels."

Kagome's face brightened with the revelation and tried the tactic herself, momentarily becoming overwhelmed by the quantity of auras she felt on her radar. It was indeed a labrinth that they were sneaking deeper and deeper into. And it was on a tier that led directly away from that awful battling stadium that she felt the tickle of a familiar presence. Hitomiko's eyes flashed briefly with satisfied pride as she watched Kagome's face realizing and discovering this nifty trick, before turning.

"Don't exhaust yourself," she said, continuing down the hallway, "Keeping track of so many will wear you out."

They were getting close, Kagome could sense Inuyasha clearly now. They eventually entered an open space, a room lined on two sides with barred alcoves. The din around them felt like a physical force, slamming against the two women, assaulting them. Growls, whimpers, clinking chains and slams that could only be a living body throwing itself against hard iron. There must have been motion sensors in that room because several rows of harsh fluorescent light flickered to life as they entered, drawing them deeper into the cavernous room. Kagome gulped as she glanced at the cages, glowing, angry eyes glaring up at her. Flashing teeth and hideous, lunging shapes postured at the barred gates of their enclosures, dragging heaving, mean looking chains. Recent fighters that had returned with fresh wounds lay at the very backs of their pens, dark, oozing liquid flowing out to the central hallway and Kagome gingerly stepped over the tiny rivers of blood. Despite Hitomiko's predisposition against demonkind, the priestess couldn't help a tendril of pity from snaking its way around her heart. The women glanced at each other, wearing similar masks of concern and discomfort. And then they heard a sound at the far end of the corridor. A pronounced growl followed by distinct cursing and the two women turned to corner to find a very battered naked Inuyasha slashing away at the bars of his cage.

"Inuyasha!" Kagome gasped, pushing past Hitomiko and rushing to the half demon. The creature behind the bars was covered in wounds and dirt. The smudged face glared out at the two approaching figures with a growl that petered out as he recognized the slender young woman and he trembled. It took him a moment or two to fully comprehend what was happening and a pair of grimy clawed hands reached past the bars to hold her on either side of her face, golden eyes disbelieving what he was seeing.

"K-Kagome?" He asked softly, his insides were a storm of emotions before they settled back down to remember one crucial fact: Kagome was in danger. "What the fuck are you doing here, wench?"

Kagome blinked, startled by the sudden change in attitude. Meanwhile, Inuyasha continued to berate her.

"It's dangerous here! You could get fucking killed! Get out the hell of here!"

"Shut up, Inuyasha!" She snapped back, taking his hands from her face and squeezing them in hers, "We're here to rescue you, dummy!"

"Stand back," Hitomiko said in a clipped voice. She placed a hand on the steel bars that separated the dog demon from Kagome, a peculiar look on her face. "These bars are enchanted…"

Kagome moved aside and a white light appeared in front of the priestess. Inuyasha leapt back as the bright blast of purifying light erupted at the door of his cage. The bars smoked, then seemed to dissolve into the light and as he was blinking away spots in his vision, his ears picked up a patter of footsteps, then around him came a pair of warm, slender arms, and he found himself burying his nose into the crook of her neck. The scent of her washed over him and made his body shudder with the relief it was to feel her against him. He brought his arms up around the slender warmth and pressed her against his body tightly, a swell of emotion crashing through his heart and it was a moment before he could regain his composure and pull back. Gentle hands came up to the sides of his face, her bright, grey eyes pouring into his.

"Let's go home," she said.

…

Something was very, very off, Miroku decided as he carefully made his way upward, toward the VIP section of the stadium. It was too quiet. It was too easy. He took a deep, steadying breath and wiped nervous palms against his dark clothes and continued onward. He stood at the door of the private room, unnerved by the lack of resistance. Where were the guards? Where were the demons? Where was anybody? With a cautious, tense hand, he reached for the door knob, convinced it would burn his hand to ashes. He held his breath. The cool, shiny metal winked innocently up at him and he turned it. With well-oiled ease, the door swung open, the dim light behind him casting an eerie, long shadow of his shape onto the lush carpeting of the room. Lights from the window danced and he could hear the muted cheers of the audience below as the tournament continued. Glancing around, he took a careful step forward.

Nothing.

Miroku inhaled through his nose and out his mouth.

Another step.

Silence.

Eventually, he made his way to the window and glanced down at the platform, lightning flashing as the Thunder Brothers battled their opponents. The vantage point looked correct. He swore this was the window seating that he had been aiming for.

There was no sound to give away the attack, only a brief flaring of a sixth sense that told him someone or something was behind him. Strong hands gripped his wrist and twisted hard. He was pressed against a firm, female body and a hard, pointed object pressed painfully at his jugular. A warmth breathed against his ear and despite his initial fright, a tingle made itself known at a place between his legs.

"Don't try anything," a low, angry voice whispered, "Who are you and where is my cat?"

Miroku struggled with the little devil in his mind that danced giddily in reaction to the sexy voice so close to his ear. It was difficult to answer her seriously.

"A-as I've explained to you previously," Miroku managed to say, "my name is Miroku, I'm a PhD candidate in Asian religious studies."

"The fuck all does that have to do with my being kidnapped?" Sango asked, her voice was calm but a dangerous silky sheen wrapped around it and sent a shiver through the man in front of her. "All I know is that you showed up on my property, then the very next day I get thrown in a sack and presented to that bastard Hitomi and see my cat tossed into some crazy fighting pit with the most rabid looking bear I've ever seen."

Miroku coughed, feeling the tip of the spike press harder against his neck. His thoughts tumbled back down to business with this added discomfort and he explained quickly, "I'm here to rescue you and my friend, Kagome, is rescuing her dog and your cat."

The woman's iron grip softened to hear this, and Miroku wasted no time. The sturdy woman was surprisingly strong, and Miroku was briefly at her mercy as he tried to turn the tables. Their tussle landed them on the ground, tripping over the remains of rope that once bound Sango's wrists and ankles. Miroku managed to get himself on top of her and his eyes absorbed the surreal beauty below him before noting the particular glint of surprise and confusion on her face.

"Did… did you say Kagome?" She said in a hushed voice. It wasn't that necessary to keep their noise down, there was no one outside to hear them and the carpeting muted their activities.

"Yes, an acquaintance of mine," Miroku replied, somehow managing to get himself under control. This position, he liked this position. Sango's open expression closed dangerously and she wrenched her hand free to bring her pointy weapon to his chin. She paused for a second before lowering the tip until it was aimed at his nether regions.

"Get. Your hands. Off me." The awl, he could see the tool for what it was now, pressed into his jeans threateningly and Miroku gulped, guiltily raising his hands from their perch on her chest. He cleared his throat.

"We… should hurry, they're going to meet us outside."

And then the entire stadium shuddered, and rumbled. And then the screaming of the stadium crowds changed somehow in tone, from enjoyment to terror, and the ground beneath them shook violently.

Miroku's dark eyes stared down at Sango's.

"Let's get out of here."