Chapter 28: Scorcher of Enemies
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
Y'all. I know that I said this chapter was mostly written, but in "editing," this baby went from like 20 pages to 57. So…y'know. FML. Also, I just realized that like 80% of the time Hiroshi makes a phone call in this story, he ignores niceties and doesn't even bother saying hello, lol. Dick.
Also THANK YOU for the lovely reviews! They keep me going. Love to you all!
Warning: There will be excessive violence in this chapter. I cut some of it back, though, so.
"O my, O my, what a wretched life. I was born on the day that my poor mama died. I was cut from her belly with a Stanley knife. My daddy did a jig with the drunk midwife. Who's that yonder all in flames? Well, up jumped the Devil, and he staked his claim on me. O poor heart, I was doomed from the start. Doomed to play the villain's part." - "Up Jumped the Devil" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
'I'm so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid…'
How long would it take Kagome to realize that she had been intercepted? Would she have someone check on and collect her mom for her?
By her guess, it had been about fifteen minutes since she'd left with Sasha—almost forty since she'd parted ways with the miko. Another twenty minutes, maybe, and she'd be suspiciously late to Hiro's.
What had she been thinking? There were only a handful of places she would have gone during her abscondence. Of course, Sasha would have been waiting for her at her parents' house. Of course he would have. God, she was so stupid.
Darkness washed over her, and Julia stared out of her window as they entered the underground garage beneath the Norinaga building in silence. Sasha had yet to say anything else to her once she'd been ushered into the vehicle—not that she expected otherwise. The youkai viewed her as a burden, and little else.
Not that she was interested in conversation with him anyway.
She discretely snuck a glance at his massive hands, still stained a dried rust with the blood he hadn't been able to completely wipe away. It took everything she had to swallow her nausea.
He had killed someone. He'd actually just killed somebody—and she had no idea who. She wondered if he even knew, or if it ate at him. Right now, he looked as surly and bothered as he always did. Like this was any other shitty day for him.
She had spent the entire last month deliberately provoking him, and he had actually just killed someone… Apparently, like it was nothing.
There was a guilty pang in her heart, and she really hoped it wasn't Kichiro, who was always so sweet and gentle and quick to compliment her experimental cooking, or Cillian, whose wife had still been pregnant with their first child the last time she spoke to him.
It was the click of the driver's seatbelt unbuckling that drove her nerves to the brink, her heart suddenly in her throat as panic swelled. They were here. They were here, and she couldn't even begin to think of how to stall.
Could she escape?
Sasha was a youkai, and he had just killed someone with no apparent moral anguish… The driver opened her door, and prompted by a none-too-gentle shove from the bear beside her, she slid out of the vehicle, feeling Sasha's presence looming behind her as she scanned the empty garage for any means of escape, but they had parked right beside the elevator that would take them to the lobby.
With a grunt, Sasha excused the chauffeur, and then it was just the two of them, alone in silence once again as they waited for the elevator doors to open. The cheerful ding that announced the elevator's arrival nearly made her jump out of her skin. She tried to turn on her heel, tried to move away, but he guided her inside with a light push between her shoulder blades, nearly tripping her up.
Within seconds they were entering the building and switching to a second elevator—one that would take them directly to Kenji.
Her stomach sank as the elevator doors shut behind them, and Sasha swiped the electronic key to the penthouse against the reader. As they began their ascent, her heart was pounding like a snare drum.
"Sasha-" she began.
"Say nothing," the bear commanded stonily where he stood at her side waiting for the elevator to reach its destination. She looked up at him, but he only continued to glare straight ahead at the steel doors before him. "I will speak to Ikeda."
"Sasha…please," she begged, a helpless whisper as her vision blurred. "He's going to hurt my family."
"If he knows you were with your dog, he will hurt you, kotyonok. Not your family."
"Why would he even care?" she argued, pleaded. "He can't be jealous—he doesn't know me—he doesn't even like me—"
"Naïve," he accused, voice a rough rumble. "He does not need to know you, and he is not jealous. He owns you. All because he wants your dog. And now you have delivered him to Ikeda like fool."
"He wants…Hiroshi—?" she murmured confused, and her brow furrowed as a true dawning terror started to wake in her bones. "What?"
"If you die, your dog dies," was all he said, and the blood drained from her face.
"But why would he…? Wait…What is this?" she demanded, her voice careening toward hysterical now, as the world ceased to make sense. She took another step away from him, shrinking back into a corner, eyes wild.
She remembered Hiroshi suggesting that she was being targeted in order to hurt him—months and months ago. And again last month while trying to convince her to stay—But that had been by the very same people who had murdered all of those children over the past two years, and—
She stared at Sasha in horror, stricken. And if he could smell or sense her terror, he didn't comment.
He also didn't deign to answer her, but they were only three floors from the penthouse now. "So you will say nothing, and I will handle Ikeda."
She wasn't sure she could speak right now, even if it was expected of her—not with her heart in her throat like it was, pounding in her ears as the blood in her veins turned to ice.
The elevator dinged again, happily unaware of the woman in crisis as the doors slid open, exposing her to the long, marble entryway, the tall, ornate black walls and vaulted ceilings every bit as imposing and intimidating as it was intended to be.
She could die here, she realized. In this bright, giant coffin of a penthouse.
The silly slap of the flip-flops she'd commandeered the night before was the only sound that echoed around them as Sasha forcefully guided her through the hallway and into the open, well-lit, sterile main room that overlooked the city. Ikeda was standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows, a lowball glass in one hand, and the other in his pocket. A picture of wealth, polish, and faux relaxation, and she knew he was setting the stage for a cruel conversation that was sure to leave her in tears.
His eyes raked over her slowly, examining her, but it was the suggestive smirk that left her feeling violated.
"You look well-fucked."
His blunt words shocked her, but she wasn't sure if the language was meant to be literal or figurative. No matter how he intended it, she had to agree with him—she was fucked.
Her wild eyes slid from the smug human to Sasha's imposing brother, who was standing only a few yards away from her, a newspaper in hand. Maybe he had been reading it before, but now he was staring at her intently, with focused purpose now.
And she knew… However Sasha had known that she'd been with Hiroshi, Mishka had come to the same realization.
"You don't have anything to say to me?" Kenji teased, drawing her attention back to him, and she heard the threat behind his smile. "No explicit details as to what my beloved fiancé was up to in the early hours of the morning?"
Beside her, standing tall and looking bored and annoyed, Sasha said nothing. But he had directed her to remain silent, and even though he was not a good person and she trusted him as far as she could throw him, she figured that was probably good advice, and she followed his lead, chewing on her lip.
Ikeda had already grown bored with her silence, addressing Sasha directly now. "She was with Takenawa," the man guessed, looking far more pleased than he should at the thought of his fiancée spending the night with her ex, and she knew that Sasha had been telling her the truth. The man was clearly more familiar with the inu hanyou than he'd initially led her to believe.
All of this time, she believed he had wanted her… But she was just a means to an end—some end she didn't and couldn't even begin to fathom.
"Nyet. Her parents."
Mishka's hard eyes slid from her to his brother now, though the great, silent bear said nothing to give away Sasha's lie.
The sinister smirk was immediately wiped from Ikeda's face as his lips twisted in annoyance. "You cannot be serious." His eyes moved from Sasha to Julia.
"Family emergency," she managed. "My Mom…"
"Her mother had episode. Braden is useless drunk jellyfish."
Ikeda somehow managed to look both stunned and furious, mouth open. "You have been missing for sixteen hours… And you were with your mother?"
"Why…why would I be with Hiroshi? He doesn't want anything to do with me now," she ventured, and Sasha slanted a pointed, silencing glower in her direction, and she could practically hear him insulting her for her stupidity in his mind.
Those hard eyes were briefly consumed by rage, that flickered out quickly into a searing cold, devoid of any regard of her. "Hm. Well…. That is unfortunate," Ikeda sighed, and it sounded like a decision being made. She was being written off now—she could see it. She was being declared useless to him.
'Good,' she thought, hatred curling up in her gut to temper the fear that had been trying to pull her under.
"We have problem," Sasha interrupted with a growl, tearing his furious eyes off of her and addressing Ikeda once again.
"Then solve it," the human demanded, lazily, turning his back to both of them now and staring out over the cityscape before them. "That's why I pay you."
"That was my intention, but you should be informed."
There was an exasperated sigh and another moment of silence before Ikeda turned back to them. He glanced at Julia, eyes cool. "We will further discuss last night's humiliating departure in a moment. Leave us, and wait for me in your room."
With a quick, final, desperate glance at Sasha, and refusing to look at Mishka at all, she turned and fled the living room down the hallway he'd gestured to.
She could already hear them speaking—the deep, quiet rumble of Sasha and the smooth annoyance of Ikeda, and she hurried down the vaguely familiar hallway. She had only been in this penthouse a few times now, but she doubted there was any real exit other than the elevator.
Like hell she was going to the bedroom, though. She needed a phone. She needed—
His office.
At the end of the long hallway, there was a door, slightly ajar—a bookcase clearly visible.
'Please,' she thought, hoping that it would be the home office she believed it was, and with a deep breath and one last nervous glance over her shoulder, she entered the room and shut the door behind her.
It was a home office. Bookshelves lined the wall, and centered in the room towards the back wall, was a desk—and on that desk, a phone.
She wasn't sure how long she had before someone came looking for her, but she wasn't planning on wasting a second. Darting across the room, she picked up the receiver and quickly dialed Hiroshi's number, one of the only numbers she knew by heart, praying he would pick up—that he hadn't written her off.
She'd been so horrible to him…
She had only just pressed the dial button when her eyes passed over the open ledger in front of her, spread across the desk. And she wouldn't have cared, or paid attention, but… It was the red, at first, that caught her eye. Small black script in list format, countless lines including a couple of words crossed out in jarring red. So it was the red that had her blind gaze narrowing into focus, but it was the nagging of a familiar name that made her pay attention to what she was looking at.
Reah Mitzukosa.
It took her a moment—to place the name, to realize why it was so familiar.
And when it did—she remembered the newspaper articles, remembered the photos she'd seen on TV that night that Hiroshi had kissed her for the first time, remembered the wolf with his broken body and half-missing face the night Hiro had first sunk his fingers and tongue into her body… All of this while her heart thudded in her ears.
She remembered that this was the girl that had been murdered and mutilated in the park near her apartment almost a year ago now.
And then she realized that all that small, black script—they were names. Families, with what she assumed were all of its members written out. Most of them had a single name scratched out in red.
It took another moment to realize that Hiroshi had answered the phone—that he had said her name, somehow picking up that she was the one calling from this new, unfamiliar number.
"Oh my God," she breathed, suddenly feeling boneless and melting into the leather chair so that she could stare at the ledger, her eyes scanning all of those names, and so many crossed out in red.
Including Jackson's.
Inuyasha was in Hiroshi's kitchen with Kimiko, putting the final touches on their sandwiches when Kagome burst through the door, slamming it behind her in her haste. "Whoa—what's going on?" he demanded, wiping his hands on the dish towel when she slid around the corner into the kitchen looking frazzled. "You okay?"
She brushed his concern aside as Kannon stood up from the couch, watching her. "Has Julia called you yet?"
The hanyou looked even more confused, brows knitting closer together. "No?" A question. "Why would she call me?"
"So no one has heard from her today?" she asked, extending the question to the twins, and they both shook their heads, eyes wide at the alarm in their mother's voice.
Kagome worried at her lip, and glanced toward the closed door down the hallway. "Is Hiro awake? Did she maybe call his cell?"
Inuyasha was scowling again. "No idea. What the fuck is going on, Kagome?"
"You were right," she told him in a rush, even as she turned on her heel and made her way towards Hiroshi's bedroom. "She was forced into the entire thing. Her father owes money to Ikeda, who claims to have hundreds of youkai that work for him. Kenji Ikeda sent that youkai to kill Jackson. And then he threatened to hurt her mother, the twins, people she cares about… Unless she married him, for some insane reason."
He couldn't keep his lip from curling back into a snarl as her words sank in and outrage took over. He snagged her by the wrist before she could successfully leave the kitchen. "So why isn't she with you?"
Kannon and Kimiko were both trying to talk over each other, demanding more information, but Kagome just didn't have time for that right now.
"Later," she promised them. "But we have to make sure she's safe first."
"Kagome," Inuyasha pressed again for her attention, all intent and alertness now. "Where is she now?"
"My phone died—" she began, and immediately wanted to smack herself because that was not what he asked, and she didn't have time for rambling excuses.
"Yeah, I noticed," he interrupted, unhappily.
"She wanted to get her parents before she came here. I should have gone with her," she muttered, berating herself. "I knew better. I—" With a gasp, her eyes turned up to meet his. "Who's keeping an eye on her parent's place?"
He considered for a moment, pulling his cell out of his pocket. "Think Sesshoumaru said it was Itsuki. I'll call him—have him bring them to our house."
Her smile was weak, but relieved, nonetheless. "Thanks. I'm going to check in with Hiro, and see if he's heard from her. See if you can get a hold of Sesshoumaru, too."
He didn't even bother responding, already busying himself with making the call. With a nod in his direction, she hurried down the hallway. When she opened the door, she expected to see Hiroshi still in bed, despondent—the way she'd left him. But the bed was empty, and he coming out of his closet already mostly dressed, and hurriedly stepping into his boots.
"She called you," Kagome guessed, hopeful and holding her breath.
But now that she was paying attention, she could see the fury in his youki, a quiet, white-hot rage, more potent and destructive than anything loud and explosive could have been—focused and atomic. "Hiro—"
"No," he told her tightly without bothering to look at her, focused solely on tightening his laces.
"You heard," she breathed, sighing when his only response was the tight clenching of his jaw. "Of course you heard… Hiro, we're taking care of it. I just saw her, and she's fine—"
"Then why isn't she answering her phone?" he demanded, rounding on her, eyes full of a cold fire that she still wasn't used to seeing in her eldest son.
Palms up, she kept her voice calm and reasoning, and that only served to further piss him off. "She threw her phone away last night so that Ikeda wouldn't be able to track her. She's going to be calling from one of her parents' phones. Do you have Charlie's number?" she suggested. "Could you give him a call?"
He held his mother's gaze with his hard glower as he immediately and pointedly hit the redial button and let it ring over the speaker.
We're sorry, but the person you called has a voice mailbox that has not been set—
He disconnected the call, clenching his jaw even tighter and watching as his mother's face fell and the worry began to creep over her again. Then he shoved the phone back into his back pocket, and walked into the closet to retrieve his dragon-skin, shrugging into the jacket. "I already tried," he told her, unnecessarily.
"Okay, but your father has someone waiting—"
"Itsuki isn't answering, either," Inuyasha interrupted, suddenly appearing behind her, nothing but grave now as he met his son's eyes. "And that's not like him. I'm going to go check on them."
Hiroshi tried to school his features at the new information—tried to hold onto his cold rage, because fear and anxiety couldn't help him now. But he couldn't stop the chilling, sinking feeling that filled his gut as his thoughts raced.
There were just so many things that could have happened if what his mother said was true—and he had already known that Ikeda had at least several youkai on his payroll… Two of which worked as closely with him as his father did with his uncle.
"I'll go. You need to go get Uncle."
And when both of his parents opened their mouths to interject, which was probably an instinctive response at this point, that rage burned a little brighter, and he cut them off with a sharp glare and a snarl.
"Whatever you're about to say, I don't want to hear it. You've helped me enough today." That last jab was directed at his father, who accepted the barb with a weary sigh and no retort.
And then he was on his way out of the room. It was his father who stopped him in the hallway.
"At least bring your sword," he requested, calling out after him, relieved when Hiroshi paused.
"If I take Gintsume," he said quietly, without bothering to turn around, "I will use it. On Ikeda and Charlie. I'll call you when I get there. Have Uncle bring Ikeda in. I'll be the one talking to him."
And then he was gone, ignoring the twins' wide-eyed stares.
Inuyasha stood there for all of five seconds. "Yeah, fuck that," the hanyou muttered, striding into the room to grab Gintsume himself. "Keep an eye on the kids. I'm going to make a few calls and follow him." Seeing Kagome's worry, the way she was chewing on her lip to keep her tears at bay, he sighed and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her close. She let him hold her for a moment, his lips pressing a kiss into the crown of her head.
"I knew it was a bad idea to separate. I knew it, and I let her leave anyway," she whispered. "I should have just gone with her."
"We'll bring them both back, 'Gome. Promise."
Hiroshi made it to the Bradens' home in record time, taking to the rooftops once he reached the city line. The street was quiet, but not empty. There was no immediate, visible sign that anything had happened at all. But none of that mattered when a soft breeze carried the heavy scent of blood and death to his nose.
Golden eyes flew to the rooftop directly across from Charlie's house, the source of the stench.
'Itsuki.'
'Forget about him,' it barked. 'You can't help him. Jules was here.'
And so was Ikeda's bear—Sasha, he remembered.
There was a surge of panic that accompanied the realization that Julia was currently in the custody of a youkai who he now knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, was a killer.
There was a ringing in his ears now, a high-pitched, endless whine that accompanied the urge to vomit, and it took him a moment to realize it was still talking to him.
'—Snap the fuck out of it! We don't have time for this!' it was yelling now, and he forced his feet to move, turning so that he was climbing the steps. 'They won't kill her because he wants her. So either get her back, or let me do it.'
But there was a hell of a lot of other things he could do to her besides kill her—and if he was angry enough that she'd gone missing…
Charlie was dozing on the couch when the door was forced open with no warning, slamming back against the wall hard enough that the doorknob left a hole in the drywall. Heart instantly in his throat, he shot up from the couch just as Hiroshi was stalking through the threshold.
"Where is she?" he demanded, a raw growl, and Charlie had never been so confused and terrified in his life.
"Who—Julia?" he floundered, flabbergasted by the sudden entrance. He hadn't seen or heard from Hiroshi or Julia in over a month.
There was a feral snarl, and the young hanyou suddenly had both fists wrapped tightly in the man's shirt, forcing him to frantically backtrack until Hiroshi had him up against the wall.
"She's supposed to be here. So where is she?" he asked again.
"How the hell should I know?" he shot back, his hands wrapping around Hiroshi's wrists and trying in vain to push him off. The hanyou ignored his efforts as though he were a flea, unmoved, and still towering over him. "You think she talks to me now?"
That wasn't a lie. She had never made it into this house—any remaining scent of her, stale and old—weeks old, but he coveted it all the same after the total erasure of her from his house and body.
"Did you tell Ikeda that she was here?" he asked darkly, daring the man to lie to him.
"She's not fucking here, is she?" Charlie snapped sarcastically, wincing when Hiroshi pushed him more firmly into the wall, his balled knuckles pressing painfully into the man's sternum. "I haven't seen her—goddamn, let go of me!"
"She left Ikeda," Hiroshi bit out, watching as Charlie's eyes widened. "And she came here. The Russian was here, too. Did you call him?"
All of the blood had drained out of Braden's face now, and Hiroshi could see the thoughts and terror race behind his eyes. "She…left?" he murmured, shocked. "She left Kenji Ikeda?"
There was a low, almost subsonic growl that had all of the hair on his arms standing at attention, as Hiroshi slowly leaned closer, invading his space again, and oh-so-threatening.
"The only reason," Hiroshi told him, voice quiet and all the more frightening for it, "that I'm not tearing you limb from limb right now, is her." Without removing his narrowed eyes from the man, he gestured with the tilt of his head towards the stairs, where Abigail was now silently watching them, green eyes wide and anxious. "But just know that when all of this is over—when she and Julia are both safe, I am going to bury you."
The man wavered for a moment, clearly still reeling over this new information regarding his daughter before he realized that the monster holding him was still looking down on him as though he was filth beneath him. "I know what you are, boy," Charlie said, but if he was expecting any reaction from Hiroshi, he wasn't given the satisfaction. The hanyou only continued to glare fiercely at him, unmoved, a low, deep growl moving the air around them. "You think I should be afraid of you?" he sneered. "There's only one of you, and you must have some principles because Julia sees something in you. But there are hundreds of them. Hundreds. And they murdered my son. They threatened my wife and daughter. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Trust in you? What the hell can you do?"
"As far as you're concerned, my principles begin and end with Julia. If anything happens to her, I'll make sure you get the same, twice over." He finally released the man, lip curling as he shot him another contemptuous glance. "Lie to me again—withhold information from me again, and you'll be a smear on the pavement. That's a fucking promise." At last, he released the man, allowing him to sag against the wall as he stepped back and pulled out his cell. "Now get your shit together. I'm calling you a cab, and then I've got to go find your daughter."
"If she ran from Ikeda—" he began hesitantly, concern evident and wholly unappreciated at this point, and the hanyou whirled on him with another menacing snarl.
Because—far too little, far too late.
"Get. Your shit. Together," Hiroshi repeated, tone fierce and furious, before he dismissed him entirely, focusing on calling a cab and itching to run again. Every second this piece of shit, joke of a father stood there, mouth agape and useless, that was one second longer that Julia stayed in the custody of hostile youkai. And he was one second closer to unraveling completely.
Once he'd called to request a cab, he debating leaving them. On one hand, he had to get to Julia. On the other, with the heavy scent of blood in the air, there was always the possibility that someone would be close behind Sasha to clean up the bear's mess and attempt to cover their tracks. Having met the youkai, even briefly, he couldn't imagine the bear would be so sloppy. His file hadn't said as much, but in their interaction, he read ex-military—some sort of special forces training, surely.
Leaving her mother here without seeing them to safety was a risk—one he was yearning to take, but one that the young woman would never forgive him for, if something actually did happen…
So when his father tore through the front door, brow furrowed with worry, Hiroshi was stunned by the relief that flooded through him—he had barely been able to look at him, just minutes ago… He only briefly made eye-contact with his son before he pinned a thunderous scowl on Charlie.
"You fucking asshole," Inuyasha snapped, glowering fiercely at the man. "If we didn't have more pressing shit—your shit, I'd kick your ass. Your own fucking daughter…" And with that last disgusted sentiment, he dismissed the man entirely, turning his attention to Hiroshi. "Itsuki—"
"I know. I smelled it."
"The bear."
"The bear," Hiroshi agreed, grimly, looking over his shoulder to the street through the open door. "He's got Julia."
Inuyasha had guessed as much, but he wasn't happy about it. "I'm trying to reach Sesshoumaru, but he's still underground. Grint is on his way to get him, so he should call me back in a second."
"I've got to go."
"Hiro—"
"I've got to go," he repeated, and there was a crack of desperation in his tone now. Clenching his jaw, his father nodded at last, begrudgingly, worry still writ across his face. "You can meet me at the Norinaga tower, but first, just get them in a cab, and send them to a safe-house. I've already called one. It should be five minutes out, at most. Please."
Inuyasha sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he glanced over at Abigail, still lingering wide-eyed on the staircase, sitting now and peering at him through the banisters, childlike in her innocence. His scowl softened. "Sure, Hiro. I can take care of them. You just get the girl. I'll be right behind you."
"Thank you," he said, and he meant it. He cast one more accusatory glare towards the still dumb-founded Charlie, unable to stop the low growl from creeping out of his throat, and then he was on the move again.
"And pup?" He waited until Hiroshi paused in the doorway, an ear flicking towards him. "Don't do anything stupid."
He had hoped for Hiroshi's standard response—just that small bit of normalcy, or that bridge to a truce between them: When have I ever done anything stupid?
But Hiroshi only stood rigid in the doorway for the briefest moment. And then he offered his father a helpless, half-hearted shrug, and was gone.
He had only been running for maybe three minutes when his cellphone started vibrating.
He didn't recognize the number, but he answered it all the same, hoping… "…Julia?" he guessed, frowning when there was no answer. All he heard was rapid, panicked, shallow breathing, and his own fear sky-rocketed.
"Julia," he tried again, voice brusque, urgent.
"Oh my God." It was said in breathless horror, faint, as though she'd pulled the receiver away from her mouth.
"Jules!" he barked out now, more harshly than he intended, just trying to pull her back to him—to tell him what was happening. "Are you okay?"
"Hiro—" She began before she paused, distracted again, and he wanted to destroy something, anything in his frustration. "Oh my God," she repeated, at a loss for words.
"I'm coming to get you now," he told her—tried to break through, again. "Are you at the tower?"
There was a sniffle. "His penthouse," she affirmed. "But Hiro—"
"I just left your parents'. I can be there in fifteen minutes. Has he hurt you?"
"Hiro, listen," she whispered urgently into the receiver, and his brow furrowed as he bounded from one rooftop to another. "Kenji has this notebook—I'm looking at it now. All of these names—all of these names with huge sums of money. So many crossed out in red," she rushed, and it was the waver of fear in her tone that made his heart clench, but it was the names she read aloud next that actually caused him to fumble, nearly missing his cue to leap for the next building. "Hisae Orikasa, Reah Mitzukosa. Charlie's in here—with me and Jackson—Jackson's crossed out in red." There was a sob and she took a deep quivering breath to quiet herself. "It's him, Hiro. He's the one who—"
"Stop talking," he interrupted, all business and authority now, trying to think past the snarling and clawing in his head. "Are you alone?"
'Let me—' it started, but he was still too stunned, too anxious to humor it.
'Shut up. Let me think.'
"No, I—I had tea-with your Mom—"
When she paused on the other end, heard a faint distant masculine shout, he felt a cold sweat break out on his neck. "Julia?" he asked sharply. He'd told her he was fifteen minutes away. His goal was to make it there in ten.
"Sorry," she whispered, and he could hear her moving. "I was picked up by one of his bodyguards on the way back to Mom's. He brought me here."
"Russian."
She paused on the other end, hesitated. "You know him?"
And goddammit, he was just now making the connection—that bull youkai that attacked Eri and Hana back in January, he'd been given his orders by that fucking bear he'd met last month. His guts were churning now. "Where is he now? Is he in the penthouse—even in another room? Was that him I just heard yelling?"
"I don't know," she whimpered quietly, scared, and he wanted to kill something. To rip flesh apart. "He's here, somewhere. He was in the living room a few minutes ago. And I think that was Kenji you heard."
"Is anyone else there?"
"Sasha's brother." Julia paused for a single beat before she whispered into the receiver, "They're trying to hurt you, Hiro. Ikeda wanted me to go to you last night. He was hoping—"
"He knows you were with me?" He wasn't able to hide the fear in his tone this time, and she felt a shiver run up her spine.
"I don't…I don't think so. Sasha told him I was at my parents' all night—I don't know why."
She was in a wolves' den, and he needed to get her out now. "Stay on the line. I'm making a call." He didn't even give her a chance to respond before he was dialing another number.
His father answered on the first ring. "On my way, Hiro. Just got them in the—"
"Ikeda is the human behind the Lullaby Slayings." He was greeted by loaded silence—even the rush of wind died down., as his father must have stilled completely to process. "You said Uncle has someone at the tower already. Who?"
"Cillian," Inuyasha said at last on a snarl, and Hiroshi could tell that he had more to say, so he disconnected the call before the tirade could begin, already dialing the tracker's number.
"Yo, Hiro—it's been a while."
His father was already trying to call him back, and the hanyou ignored the call. "I'm about ten minutes away. Jules is in trouble."
There was a grunt on the other end. "She at the tower, then?" the stoat asked, all joviality gone now.
"Penthouse. Two floors above his—"
"I know where it is. Guessing the bear is with her?"
"Both of them."
"Both, huh? Good thing Kich just got here then," he said, and there was a dry grin in his voice.
"No, listen to me. I need you to try to draw them out—without entering that building. Do whatever you have to do. Make some calls—bomb threat, gas leak, anything. We just need to get Jules out of the tower and get her away from them. I don't want you to engage until Father can get the rest of the Hounds out there for back-up."
There was a slight pause. "All this for two bears?" he asked skeptically.
"All this for the Lullaby Slayers."
"Ah," he allowed, grim. "Shit. …Well, guess that kinda makes sense, huh."
"I have to go. Make the call."
And then he was on the line with Julia again. "Jules? Still there?"
"Yes," she breathed, and she sounded like she was still on the verge of tears. "Still here."
"We're going to get you out of the building. Be ready. As soon as you're outside, run. I'm going to have someone waiting for you. I need to make one more call. Just a sec, okay?"
His surety steadied her—gave her strength. She could do that—she could be ready, and she could wait. If that's what he wanted her to do, she could do that. "Okay," she agreed, a whimper.
And that noose around his neck—the one that he thought couldn't get any tighter? He was struggling to breathe now. "I'm getting close, Jules," he promised, aiming for soothing, but sure that he missed by a mile. "Sit tight."
And then he called Miroku, whose apartment in the city was only three blocks from that fucking tower. The kitsune had been at his house earlier that morning—he hadn't seen him, but he'd heard him speaking to his parents. He wasn't sure where he'd be now, but he hoped…
"Hiro?" His cousin was unable to hide the surprise in his voice, not that Hiroshi could blame him. He'd been practically catatonic last night. Hiroshi could hear traffic in the background, and his stomach sank.
"Are you at your apartment?"
"Uh, no, just left. Going to lunch with Dad—"
"Hey, Hiro," Shippou chimed in, in the background.
"How far are you from the Norinaga tower?" he asked brusquely.
"Not far at all…" Miroku allowed slowly, a frown in his voice at the urgency in Hiro's tone, at that howl of wind that told him he was on the move. "We're heading that direction, actually. What's up, Hiro?"
"Listen—I'm on my way, but I'm on the other side of the city—less than ten minutes out now. Julia is in trouble. I need you to meet her outside the Norinaga building. Father has a couple of men stationed nearby, so they are heading in that direction, as well, but they may be preoccupied once they get there. I need you to take Jules, and get her away from there. Take her straight to Mother. Barrier—the works."
"Understood."
God, he loved his cousin—the fact that he didn't even ask any questions... He vaulted over another roof, trying to judge how much further he had to go until he reached the downtown district. "Miroku, I'm still not sure what we're dealing with here. It's likely that she will be accompanied by Ikeda's bodyguards. Feral, youkai bodyguards. If that's the case, you do not get involved with them. The Hounds will handle any situation that arises until I can get there. Don't enter the building, don't engage with anyone, just wait for her to come to you, and then you get her away from that building. Call me when you have her."
"Will do. We're not far—be there in a second."
"You were supposed to keep post at her parents'."
"Da."
"And you're telling me she was there the entire night?"
Again Sasha nodded, a bored affirmation. "Da."
"So you just…camped out at her parents and let her do as she pleased? For sixteen hours?"
"She had guard dog. The Inu no Taisho sent a Hound to keep eye on her after departure."
"A Hound?" At last the man was showing mild interest in the conversation he was a part of. Quirking a questioning eyebrow, he looked from the skyline to the completely unapologetic bear youkai behind him. "I'm assuming he's still tailing you?"
"Nyet. That is the problem. His body is still on roof."
It took a moment for the words and their implication to register, but once they did Kenji abandoned the skyline entirely, turning to face Sasha, dark eyes narrowing. "Wait. You mean to tell me that you…killed one of Sesshoumaru Takenawa's employees?" he asked quietly, not even bothering to hide his astonishment. "A youkai he'd stationed to keep guard over the Braden's residence… A youkai he'd stationed at the Braden residence because of me."
There was a half-hearted shrug in response. "You asked me to retrieve girl. I was forced to improvise."
Ikeda's incredulity wasn't satisfied by that reasoning. Sasha was one of his most trusted employees. He knew he was too valuable and too close to him to afford making such stupid decisions. Those dark eyes narrowed further into a glare, daring the bear to lie to him. "…What aren't you telling me?" he demanded. "You said she was called in for a family emergency. So why would that lead to you exterminating one of Takenawa's hunters?"
"She wished to stay with her mother. You wished for her to be returned to you. She resisted and the Hound interfered." He finished with another one-shouldered shrug, entirely too nonchalant for someone who had likely just called all of Sesshoumaru's forces onto their trail—entirely too nonchalant for someone who possibly just brought everything they'd work towards to ruin…
"Goddammit, Sasha!" he roared, flinging the crystal glass to the floor to shatter, fury escalating when Sasha only stood straighter to glare down at him, obviously unbothered by the display. "You had one fucking job! I told you to bring the girl to me! I said nothing about exterminating one of Sesshoumaru's fucking hunters—so close to their house? They know you, Sasha! And they know you fucking work for me. And even if they didn't, we are locked out of the fucking database now, and there's no remedying this!"
The bear shrugged and Ikeda wanted to smash another glass—this time in his giant, apathetic face. "We send cleaners. They will never know."
He looked to the silent twin, who was still staring at his brother, his expression as stern and unreadable as always. "Is this true, Mishka?"
The bear turned his heavy stare to Ikeda, and nodded once, stiffly.
"So we have time to correct this error and send the cleaners?"
Sasha shrugged again. "We should, so long as they don't try to check in with him beforehand."
"For your sake," Ikeda bit out coolly, "you'd better hope not. I still cannot fathom what you were thinking. You have met Hiroshi—for God's sake, you threatened him in my office! What made you think you should kill one of his father's men in front of his girlfriend's parents' house?"
"Again: You gave me an order, I followed order."
"God—" he cut himself off, squeezing his eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose to help him rein in his fury. "Call the cleaners. Handle this—Mishka," he demanded, tone short and clipped as he turned to the identical youkai. "See to it that he doesn't fuck this up. If he does, that's both of your heads. Now, leave me. I have to call Yagami, warn him of Sasha's stupidity—What the hell is this now?" he demanded angrily, dark eyes flashing as alarms suddenly started blaring around them.
"Fire alarm—"
"I know it's the fucking fire alarm, you dumb fuck!" he roared back, and Mishka's gaze hardened on the human who dared to speak so carelessly to his brother, though Sasha still looked down at Ikeda as though his insults weren't even worth acknowledging. "Just—goddammit, go—clean up your mess." He watched as they both archly turned on their heel and made their way towards the hallway leading to the elevator. "And have them turn off this fucking alarm!" he call after them, wishing he had another Old Fashioned to smash against the tile in this moment.
Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his wavy hair, freeing some of it from his low ponytail.
He'd made it this far—so far, and of fucking course it would be the youkai he trusted most to fuck this up for him.
Dumb fucking beasts.
With an angry, shaky breath, he turned his head toward the empty hallway the girl had hurried down.
To add insult to injury, this bitch was apparently useless to him, and the entire endeavor had been a massive waste of time and effort. They'd have been better off targeting the brats first to drive the Hanyou of Legend to the brink, then go after the Interrogator.
And then the broken miko would have no other choice than to help them with their issue.
But no, Yagami had fucked him. That damned stupid bird…
Now there was just the matter of dealing with this woman, in his pent house, who now served him no purpose…
With a sigh, he turned back to the gold-gilded bar cart and began to make himself another Manhattan, grabbing his favorite rye.
He could let her go. Tell her father he'd changed his mind and would take his money instead. Money, he could use—always.
This cunt was worthless.
He flicked a few dashes of bitters into the mixing glass and absently began to stir. Yeah, he could let her go…
But he wouldn't. He'd have a new youkai—someone untested, but brutal—kill her and leave some pieces of her in the Hound's yard. Maybe he'd send a piece to the Heir, too, a sign of what's to come for him and his. But only a piece.
The Interrogator would never find all of her—he'd make sure of that. She would be scattered, and no magic, no miko, would ever be able to piece her back together again. Punishment for wasting his fucking time.
He strained the mixed drink into another crystal rocks glass, taking a sip and savoring. But that was really difficult to do when the alarms were still blaring, shrill and deafening through the apartment.
Fitting, considering how colossally the Russian had screwed him, making everything urgent, putting their whole operation in jeopardy. All for this stupid human girl—a nobody. A nobody who was apparently useless to them.
Which he should have guessed from the beginning. She had been a waitress—a no-name actress, with a commercial or two under her belt and some blockbuster that hadn't even been released. And she was supposed to lead to the end of the Inu no Taisho? She was supposed to be the key to the creation of a new Shikon jewel?
Why had he bought into that?
After this was over, he'd clearly have to take control of the operation. Yagami couldn't be trusted—unreliable at best. He'd have Sasha see to him.
After all, the bear apparently enjoyed disposing of Sesshomaru's employees for no discernible reason.
No longer in the mood to savor, he polished off the drink in three more gulps, relishing in the burn, and then he turned his narrowed gaze to the empty hallway. She hadn't returned, even with the alarms sounding, and he couldn't blame her. Any creature with an ounce of self-preservation seemed to understand exactly how dangerous he was. Even youkai were affected by his presence. By his money, and the muscle and power that came with it.
So with that in mind, and with the alarms and the girl's absolute uselessness gnawing at him, he set his glass down on the bar cart and made his way towards the hallway, towards the bedroom where she would be waiting for whatever punishment he felt like doling out.
She loved her mother. And she loved the half-breed and his family. He knew she'd do whatever it took to keep him happy and keep them alive. So maybe he'd let her debase herself, try to prove herself, and then he'd kill them all anyway. Realistically, the hanyou and his family were always going to die. That had always been the endgame.
But her mother—she meant less than nothing to him. He couldn't even remember her name. But he'd have her killed all the same.
Hell, he'd even leave her father alive to add insult to injury.
The vicious thoughts were accompanied by a sense of satisfaction and helped relax the tense muscles between his shoulder blades, and with a self-satisfied smile, he opened the door to her bedroom without a warning knock.
Smile instantly twisting into a frown, he looked over the empty room—even the door to the ensuite bathroom was left open, the lights off. His immediate thought that she had escaped was quickly dismissed, since all of the exits were only accessible through the living room, and she'd never resurfaced after first disappearing down that hallway. No, she was still here, somewhere in this wing…
Another pang of urgency wrung at his chest, and he turned on his heel, heading straight for the one place he hoped he wouldn't find her. Because earlier today, he'd done a bit of work, a bit of book-keeping, so to speak, and when Sasha had called to tell him they were on their way back…. Had he even bothered to tidy up?
He couldn't recall, but he had an inkling that Sasha wasn't the only recklessly irresponsible one today…
The office door was still partially opened, and pushing it wider, he could see her there, at his desk, her back to him. And even over the din of the alarms, he could hear her soft, quiet voice, though he couldn't make out her words. She was on the phone with someone…
"Well, aren't you a bold little thing."
She couldn't stop the startled yelp that left her, and Ikeda only lifted a single, expectant brow as she whirled to face him, phone still clutched tightly in her fist.
"I—I'm sorry," she fumbled, face white. "The alarms scared me. I called down to the lobby to see if everything was okay."
"And?"
"…And?" she repeated, a question when he looked at her expectantly.
"And what did they say about the alarm?" He was humoring her now, and though his expression was neutral enough, there was an obvious undercurrent of malicious mockery.
"Bomb threat," Hiroshi hissed into the receiver.
"Bomb threat," she told him, trying for casual, and missing by a mile. "The building's being evacuated. We should—"
And now his shrewd eyes were studying her, traveling over the fine features of her face, reading her lies. And when he smiled, she felt her heart sink, her free hand ghosting its way toward the letter opener on the edge of the desk near the ledger.
He glided toward her and extended a hand. "May I?"
"Um." She offered him the receiver the moment her fingers brushed the sharp metal of the letter opener, quickly shielding it from his view and stepping back to create some distance.
She just needed to— Her eyes flitted briefly to the open door.
"Hello? To whom am I speaking?" And he was staring at her, cocky, as though he was catching her in her lie.
Hiroshi had already muted the phone so that the roar of the wind wouldn't give them away, and the moment that voice was speaking directly to him, a shock of pure hatred surged through him, and minding his grip to avoid breaking his phone was a struggle.
"Murata?" When there was only silence and no response from the building manager or any of his employees, he leaned over to look at the number on the caller ID. "No one informed me that the lobby was getting a new number," he practically purred, glancing from the phone on the desk to the wide-eyed young woman trying to inch her way around the desk so that it wouldn't block her path to the office door.
"Murata?" he tried again, and Hiroshi clenched his jaw at the dark, playful note in his tone. He was toying with them now. "Hm, well, that's not working. Let's try this one: Takenawa?"
Hiroshi's glare sharpened, and he ran that much faster. He was getting close now—so close, but still so much farther than he wanted to be.
"Silence, still," he tossed over his shoulder to Julia, "but somehow, that feels like the correct guess."
Julia took another step back. "I told you—Hiroshi wants nothing to do with me. Why would I—"
And now those dark eyes were sharp and cold, all playfulness gone now. "You were with your dog last night." It wasn't a question or a guess. He was telling her now. "…Why would Sasha lie to me?" Another accusation leveled at her—as though Sasha's words were her doing.
Another step back. "I wasn't—"
His eyes dropped to the desk, where she'd been standing when he first walked in, and he acknowledged the open ledger for the first time, his gaze eventually rising, searching her own.
And though she willed and convinced her body to stay calm, she couldn't hide the fear in her eyes quickly enough.
"I see."
He took a step towards Julia, and she reflexively took a step back, watching warily as he laid the receiver down on the desk. Whatever was about to happen, he wanted Hiroshi to hear. "We should head outside until it's safe," she attempted.
"Julia…," a hint of disapproval and disappointment in his tone. "Please don't insult my intelligence."
"I don't know what you want from me," she snapped back at him, taking another step back, entire body tensing when he followed. "I wasn't with Hiroshi last night. I haven't seen him in weeks. My mother was sick—"
"And she'll be worse than that soon."
He hadn't even raised his voice at the threat. But those words, delivered so matter-of-factly, caused such a violent, instinctive reaction, that she couldn't have stopped it if she'd wanted to. And he was already so close—so eager to invade her space, having followed as she'd made her way around the desk, that he'd made it easy for her.
With a furious grunt, she'd whipped the letter opener from behind her back, attempting to drive it up into his throat. But he'd seen it coming at the last second, turning to shield himself as best as possible so that it cut through the flesh of his shoulder instead, stopping with a jolt when she struck bone.
"You fucking cunt!" he screamed, enraged as she immediately released the blade and whirled to make a mad dash for the door. She had just made it to the doorway, when a rough shove sent her sprawling and she immediately flipped over onto her back to make sure he wouldn't be able to pin her from behind, trying frantically to scoot her way into the hallway as he loomed over her.
"I think that's far enough," he spat, spittle flying in his fury and eyeing the one leg that hadn't made it across the threshold yet. "Nowhere for you to run, but let's not tempt the idea, you bitch."
And then he grabbed the heavy opened door, and slammed it as hard as he could on her ankle, cracking bone against the door frame and wrenching a sobbing scream from her throat.
"Good. I want him to hear this." And while still trying to push through the immediate tears of pain from her eyes and the nausea that clawed at her throat, she felt his heavy weight settle on her hips, pinning her in place as he sat on top of her. Ankle now the least of her worries, her movements became frantic as she tried to dislodge him, attempting fruitlessly to buck him off before striking and shoving at him with her fists.
"Get off of me!" she shrieked, panicked and furious as she continued to try to inflict pain however and wherever she could—she just needed to get him off, trying her best not to think about the fact that Hiroshi would be able to hear.
There was the thud of bone striking bone, and the pain followed shortly after, shocking her as it bloomed in her right cheekbone.
"Hit me again, and I'll make this last so much longer," he sneered, and then his fingers wrapped firmly around her throat, constricting, a bruising, punishing pressure.
Instinctively, she tried to gasp for breath, efforts to free herself redoubling when there was nothing but the aching of starving lungs. Wide eyes rolled to the side to see if there was anything to grab, anything she could use as a weapon, but they were mostly sprawled in the hallway now, and there was nothing.
But then her eyes fell to his shoulder, bleeding steadily since he must have pulled out the letter opener, and her hand shot out to jam her thumb into the wound and dig. The roar of pain that ensued would have satisfied her to her core if she weren't so caught up in greedily gasping for air since he'd released her as he twisted away. And when he turned back to her, eyes full of hate and ready to squeeze the last of the air from her, she whipped her elbow up, striking him squarely in the nose and then shoved with everything she had to get him off of her. He was so much bigger than she was, though. She only managed to half unseat him, but it was enough to drag her legs out from under him enough to use her good foot to kick him as hard as she could in the balls.
With a wheeze, he hit the floor, and she was sure he'd be slow to get up after that, but she didn't stick around to find out. She pushed herself to her feet and limped as quickly as she could down the hallway, dismissing the slow elevator entirely, and using the door that opened to a public access hallway—one that included a stairwell in case of emergency. They were on the top floor, but maybe there would still be people, stragglers, exiting the building for the drill, and if she could just make it to them, she'd be safe until she made it to Cillian or Hiro.
The hallway was darker than the extreme natural lighting that seemed to touch every inch of Kenji's home—all dark, plush carpet and dramatic incandescent lighting with a mid-century modern flair. And it was empty, except for one. There was a man, tall and lanky, minding his own business in the hallway several yards away, leaning against the wall as he scrolled through his phone, and it was on the tip of her tongue to call for help. But then she realized how odd it was that he was just hanging out outside of Kenji's penthouse, seemingly oblivious to the deafening alarms sounding around them.
'Run,' she told herself, a shocking, urgent, true assessment.
When she tried to quietly make her way to the emergency exit, he noticed her, brows shooting up as he looked her over, seeing that she was disheveled and obviously injured. He pushed off the wall to face her, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
And then he smiled at her, slow and dangerous.
Turning on her heel and heart pounding, she quickly limped the short distance to the stairwell, aware that the stranger was now ambling toward her, obviously in no hurry.
She'd almost made her way down the first flight, the last stray stragglers from the fire alarm making noise far below her, unseen, when she heard the door above her swing open. Instinctively she glanced up, making eye contact with the man, and that same slow, predatory smile stretched across his face, and she hastily returned her attention to putting as much distance between them as possible.'
Julia couldn't stop her surprised scream when there was suddenly a blur of color and a rush of air as something fell past her, launching itself at the foot of the flight she was currently making her way down. And then she realized it was him—the man, straightening back to his full height to smile up at her halted descent. And yeah, there was no mistaking that he was one of Ikeda's youkai now.
"You look like you could use some help, miss."
With that, she turned to race back up the stairs, ankle screaming with every step she took—but what was the alternative? With the ground escape cut off while she was on the top floor, she had no choice but to go up—up to the roof.
The man behind her was chuckling now, watching her limp her way up the stairs frantically.
"Run, little rabbit," he goaded. And when she'd made her way past her starting point and was halfway up to the roof, Ikeda burst into the stairwell, red-faced and huffing like a bull.
"Wow," the youkai drawled, impressed. "She did that?"
"Shut the fuck up," She heard him snap. "Where did she go?"
The man pointed past him and up, and Ikeda followed his finger just in time to see Julia yank the door to the roof open and slip through.
The bright natural light was almost blinding as she stumbled onto the roof and slammed the door behind her, but she immediately scanned her surroundings, looking for anything she could use to jam the door.
'Please, please, please,' she thought desperately before a flash of silver on the gravel caught her eye. Someone had left a wrench lying near the HVAC system in the middle of the open space. She hobbled over to snatch it up and made it back in time to slide it through the handle just before Ikeda attempted to pull it open. The wrench immediately caught on the concrete surrounding the doorframe and prevented the door from budging.
It was a temporary fix, especially with youkai strength at Ikeda's disposal, but Hiro must be getting close now, so temporary was all she needed.
There was an angry bang against the door, one that nearly made her jump out of her skin.
'Right…' she reminded herself, taking a deep breath and shaking the excess, crippling anxiety off. 'Find a weapon, and find a place to hide.'
She returned to the HVAC system, hoping maybe another tool had been discarded, but searching the gravel, she came up short. There was nothing—nothing she could use as a weapon. So she began to search for means of escape, a ladder to another section of the roof, anything.
Her ankle throbbed with a tight, hot heat as she walked, and she dared a brief glimpse down, pulling up the leg of her sweatpants just enough to see that the flesh on the balls of her ankle were torn, blood pooling under the surface of her skin, mottling the grotesquely swollen upper half of her foot and ankle a deep, angry purple.
Yeah, it was fractured, at the very least. She released the fabric and looked around, rubbing the stubborn tears from her eyes. There was a barrier in front of her—one that she was just able to peek over, but not able to climb with her ankle as jacked as it was, and below it, she could make out Ikeda's pool terrace. But still no ladder.
The door to the stairwell suddenly burst open, the handle torn off completely. Julia watched as the youkai ambled through leisurely, Ikeda behind him brandishing a cell phone in one hand and a handgun in the other.
Ikeda spared Julia, who stood frozen near the edge of the roof, a single contemptuous glance before he returned his attention to his phone. "I need you to arrange a helicopter, rooftop. A news crew, as well. We're going to have company soon," he told the receiver.
"We have company now," Sasha growled back, and Ikeda could hear nondescript shouts and grunts of pain in the background.
"Take care of it. And get me that helicopter—immediately." Disconnecting the call, he turned his attention back to Julia. "You fucked me, you know. I'm assuming you told your dog about the ledger."
"You're pretty much finished, yeah," she bit back with a rasp, her abused vocal cords being tested for the first time since she'd been strangled.
"Hm. Unfortunate. I had such big plans for you. It's quite disappointing that we're going to have to expedite things now. I didn't even want to strangle you. That would be far too kind a death for such an uncouth bitch. I wanted to leave a message for your dog." He looked around him for dramatic affect, taking in the rooftop surroundings. "Looks like you solved that issue for me." He nodded to the youkai currently leaning against the concrete wall beside the busted door. "Throw her off the roof."
With a huff of air, the man righted himself again, staring Julia down. "Yep."
He was suddenly right there. Right in her space, forcing her to stumble back until her back pressed flush against the concrete barrier behind her. He smiled down at her stunned face, grabbing one of her arms.
She was just starting to struggle when a ball of blue, licking flames hit him squarely in the chest, and caught unawares, he flew back with a grunt, taking Julia with him and nearly yanking her arm out of socket in the process.
Julia hit the ground hard at Ikeda's feet, skidding to a stop in the gravel. She was still trying to figure out what the hell was happening, when snarls rent the air, and something barreled onto the roof with them, crouching right where she'd been leaning only a second ago.
'I'm dead,' she thought, amazed as she stared up at her surprise savior, who was presently ignoring her to face down the threat. 'I'm dead, or I'm unconscious and dreaming…'
Because how…?
Shippou was crouched on the concrete barrier, glaring down at the youkai who was climbing back to his feet a couple of yards away from her, and no longer looking unbothered.
The man bared his teeth and let out an offended, inhuman hiss—not like a cat, but like a—
"You fucking rat," the kitsune sneered, all fire and fury from his perch, and Julia was reminded of Inuyasha for some strange reason, though they looked nothing alike. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to keep you hands to yourself?"
"Julia?"
She couldn't stop the whimper of relief and happiness that escaped her at the sound of the familiar and loved voice. Her head snapped to the side searching for Miroku through her once-again blurry eyes.
"Where are you injured?" he asked, voice as soothing as always, and a startling contrast to his father's protective aggression.
"Um. My ankle—I think it's—it's broken."
Miroku made to take a step toward her, where she was crumpled on the gravel, aching and now covered in road rash. But movement behind her made him pause. Julia looked up and over her shoulder to see Ikeda training the gun on her best friend. Another fierce snarl and Shippou had redirected his attention to the human, slipping off the concrete barrier, and stepping in front of his son, mostly blocking Julia's view of him.
"Try it, asshole."
"I will gladly indulge you, should you move," Ikeda retorted, displeased by the interruption. "I've seen enough of you die by now to know that while your kind may be strong and fast, you're not impervious to bullets. Nor are you faster than one. So why don't you stay exactly where you are. Nez, grab her." Ignoring the youkai as he moved to obey, Kenji glared at the girl still crumpled near his feet, lip curling in absolute hatred. "You stupid, fucking bitch. The things I'm going to do to you…" he promised.
Hiroshi hadn't thought things could possibly get worse than they were when he first woke up this morning to a fumigated house and the devastating sense of being incomplete, broken beyond repair—the despair that engulfed him, and more than threatened to devour him.
That had been…indescribable.
But then he'd heard Julia scream as Ikeda put hands on her, and he realized how wrong, how naive he had been. Even over the near deafening alarms, he'd heard the violence on the other end of the line—violence that he couldn't see, and had since moved out of range of hearing as well.
He'd heard her scared and in pain, somewhere currently beyond his reach, and the absolute panic that flooded over him, rendered him almost immobile—a tight band that wrapped around his ribs and squeezed the air out of his lungs.
'No, you're not doing this right now!' it snarled, furious and feral as he stumbled, attempting to catch his breath with a futile gasp. 'If you can't do this, then I will, but you're not going to waste time dealing with your fucking feelings while Jules is fighting for her life!'
He took a deep gulp of air and picked up the pace again—he was less than 2 minutes out now. But he was panicking—a very new feeling for him. The only other time he could remember ever losing his nerve was when that wolf had come so close—so unbearably, horribly close—to killing Julia. Right in front of him.
Jules had never needed him more, and he had never been less capable—a weakened body in a fragile mental and emotional state. He was practically condemning her to die.
Then again, from the looks of it, he'd done that a long time ago, the moment that raptor took her shirt from his property after he'd so kindly left it there like a gift.
'Okay,' he agreed, eyes trained on the tower in the distance.
'Okay?' it repeated.
'Okay, get her back. I don't care what you have to do, so long as you keep her alive and get her away from him.'
It didn't even bother responding, but then again, it didn't have to. It had taken control the moment the last word was leaving Hiro's mouth.
He dropped down near the subway station a block from the tower. It was the tallest of the buildings surrounding it, and even he couldn't scale it directly—he'd have to find her, starting from the ground level. Maybe she'd made her way to the kitsunes by now. But then he'd found Shippou and Miroku's scents, which went straight up, toward the roof—not what Hiroshi had told them to do, and a quiet growl rumbled out of him as he stared up toward the top of the building—the very rooftop Hiroshi had used to escape Ikeda all those weeks ago now. The wind was currently blowing away from him, so he couldn't tell exactly what was going on up there, but he yanked open the door to the West entrance, intending to find out.
It was the smell of Kichiro's blood that hit his nose first. Then a warthog, a polecat, a fire elemental, an ogre, and Cillian. There were others, countless scents, both human and youkai, who had passed through this hallway at some point during the evacuation. But those were the scents that were enshrouded in blood and death.
Something uncomfortable and wholly independent of him twisted in his chest, and he narrowed his eyes as he quickly made his way down the hallway scattered with bodies and ashes. Guilt and worry—annoyances to him, but practically a constant state of being as far as Hiroshi was concerned.
'Jules is our priority,' it reminded him.
'We're going this way anyway—' he said. 'Just check.'
Kichiro and Cillian were both still in their corporeal form on the carpeted hallway, as was the deceased warthog. The other three were dust.
And the stoat youkai wasn't dead. Not yet. But he was dying, and he huffed in aggravation at the delay this would cause. Time he didn't have. Time Jules didn't have…
'He has a family,' was all Hiroshi said.
Goddammit all…
"Still alive?" he asked, nudging Cillian's boot with the toe of his shoe. The stoat had been shot twice in the gut and once in the thigh, and judging by the amount of blood, the bullet had nicked his femoral artery.
Cillian snorted, eyes still closed. "Against my…better judgment, yeah."
An amused scoff. "We told you to stay outside," he reminded him, an expectant eyebrow raised as he looked over the soon-to-be fatal injuries.
"Yeah, well…no offense and all, Hiro, …but we don't take orders…from you," he wheezed around a smirk, trying to push himself up to prop his back against the wall. He was only half successful, managing to get his shoulders to inch up the wall a bit, and he turned his head to spit the blood in his mouth onto the carpet. "They got Kich. Fucking bastards."
The hanyou glanced over to where the inu youkai had been mowed down by a series of bullets through his chest. "Yeah, I can see that. How many total?"
"Seven down here. Took down four of them. Injured another. They think we…weren't alone—so they're checking…"
He turned away from Cillian, facing the direction the remaining youkai had gone. He could follow them. He could kill them—but they didn't have Jules.
"Your girl never came down, 'sfar as I know," he slurred.
"You still got your phone?" A grunt of acknowledgement was all he received by way of answer. "Call your mate. And try not to die," he tossed over his shoulder as he turned on his heel, and headed for the emergency stairwell.
There was another dry snort from the hunter. "Sure thing, boss."
'At least let Father know. Mother might be able to save him.'
'Doubt it. He's got minutes, if that.'
'He has a mate and a child. Call him.'
Hiroshi had already pulled that card, and it shouldn't have worked on him a second time, but…. With an aggravated sigh, he pulled the phone back out of his pocket as he yanked the stairwell door open.
Inuyasha answered on a snarl, the rush of the wind against the speaker almost deafening. "Fucking hang up on me after dropping something like that in my lap?!" he all but roared. "Where the fuck are you?"
"Tower. Kich's dead. Cillian's not far behind him. Ground floor, to the right of the back entrance—West. Hiro thought you should know in case 'Gome or Sesshoumaru can save 'em."
"…Hiro—?"
But the hanyou had already hung up on him again to focus on propelling himself up the stairwell, leaping from banister to banister a floor at a time with renewed purpose. There were a few human stragglers, people still working their way down the stairs from the upper levels—he could hear their gasps and murmurs of amazement as he leapt upward past them. But he couldn't give two fucks—that would be Sesshoumaru's problem later.
He could scent Julia's blood now, lingering in the open stairwell, faint at first, but stronger the closer he got to the penthouse floor. He also smelled the blood of that human shit, and it only goaded him to pushing himself harder, moving faster and faster.
He'd made it onto the roof just in time to see a rat youkai lay hands on her. Claws twisted painfully into her curls and digging at her scalp, the youkai had wrenched her back against him as she tried to limp away from him, one of her ankles clearly sprained or broken. When she yelped and struggled, clawing at the hand buried in her hair, he gave her a quick, hard jab in her kidney that seemed to knock all of the breath from her lungs with a wheeze and would have driven her to her knees, if not for his hold on her.
That was all he needed to see before he came to the conclusion that he was going to kill a fuck-ton of people before he let Hiro have the reins again.
Distracted by Shippou yelling foul curses at him, the rat didn't even have a chance to fully process the new powerful pulse of youki brushing against his own. Not before the inu hanyou was on him, severing the hand in her hair and driving elbow-deep into his guts, bearing him away from Julia. She collapsed to her knees, still gasping for air and clutching at her side, once the youkai was so viciously torn from her.
She didn't even notice the hand that had once belonged to the rat had released its grasp on her scalp to hit her shoulder and roll harmlessly down her back to the concrete floor behind her.
"Grab her, 'Roku," Shippou commanded under his breath, claws still out and hard gaze glued to the human with the gun. As Miroku started to cautiously make his way to the winded woman, Shippou moved with him, staying between him and the gun. The kitsune hanyou was trying his best to ignore the sick, wet gurgling of blood in lungs and rending of flesh only yards away when a loud pop moved the air around him, and he froze, eyes flashing from Julia to Ikeda just in time to see the human lower the gun to aim at Julia—a warning.
"That was your one warning. Do not move," he demanded as a snarling Shippou, still full of piss and vinegar, reached out to pull his son back.
Hiroshi's ear swiveled at the sound of the shot going off, but the rest of his attention was still on the fucker in his grasp who had dared to abuse his mate. The bullet hadn't hit anything. But this youkai… This youkai had. Holding the rat still with claws buried in his windpipe, he continued emptying his chest cavity of any and all organs with ruthless efficiency, ignoring the stunned gurgling.
"I said do not move—that includes you, Takenawa."
Hiroshi paused, looked over his shoulder at the human who was now snatching Julia back to her feet, ignoring her swelling ankle and what was surely some internal damage to her kidney.
At her rasped cry, his face hardened, and he turned to face Ikeda fully, pulling his bloodied fist out of the man's ruined chest.
"Alright," he agreed coolly, and tossed the emptied, ruined carcass to the side, absently flicking blood and ichor from his claws. "He didn't have anything left for me to remove anyway." As if to prove his point, there was a burst of light and all that remained of the rat was a pile of dust.
A relieved sob tore its way out of the injured woman, who was slowly being pulled further and further away from him to the opposite end of the roof. "Hiro," she breathed, so exhausted and relieved, but her hanyou was still staring down the threat.
"So the rumors were true. …I'd heard you were ruthless," Ikeda allowed, lips twisted up in cruel amusement as he turned his dark gaze from the cloud of ashes currently catching in the breeze to the bloodied hanyou.
Hiroshi snorted, eyes burning bright as he tossed the man a dark grin. "And yet, here you stand, using Jules as a shield between us. So I'm guessing no one told you exactly how ruthless." He was still grinning, mirthlessly, even as his eyes hardened. "But don't worry: You'll find out."
The human didn't seem too bothered by the threat—not with his hold on Julia to ensure his safety, and the hanyou studied him carefully. He still believed he had a way off this roof alive. He either had muscle on the way to protect him, or he thought he knew Hiroshi well enough to believe that the inu hanyou wouldn't kill him.
He couldn't wait to watch the hopelessness of his situation sink in.
Where he stood, only yards away from the hanyou, an inexplicable wave of dread washed over Shippou. He'd been on edge for the last few minutes—since he first scented blood on the wind from the sidewalk below. Since he'd flown his only son up with him into an unknown, but obviously violent situation—which, Rin was absolutely going to fucking murder him if she found out about. But now, a true and ancient fear and anxiety were crawling up his spine, and his eyes flew to Hiroshi, worried now as he studied the pup's profile.
Ikeda waved the gun from Hiroshi to the two kitsune. "Get over there with the others."
The hanyou shot a cursory glance at his cousin before he shrugged, bloodied hands twitching in anticipation as he strolled closer to them, appraising eyes never leaving Ikeda. He looked entirely too relaxed for the heightened situation.
"So. You're Ikeda," he mulled once he'd place himself directly in front of the kitsunes. "Heard a lot about you…" And there was that dark grin again. "Hot damn, I've been wanting to meet you!"
And while that declaration confused the human, it was then, and only then, that the hanyou allowed his attention to refocus on Julia, who was still worrying at her split lip to stifle her pained cries as her ankle continued to bear her weight. His eyes roved over her, taking note of every insult and injury to her person as his expression grew darker and darker.
It wasn't just her lip and ankle that were busted. Her left cheek and eye were swollen and already darkening. Her pale throat had vivid marks, the shape of fingers, already purpling. Two of her fingers were bleeding where the nails had broken deep into the nail-bed. Her right arm—and maybe even her hip were skinned as though she'd been dragged across asphalt.
She had clearly fought tooth and nail for her life, and though the filthy scent of Ikeda's blood should have brought him satisfaction and pride in her scrappiness, that was only more blood that he, personally, wouldn't be able to shed.
And he planned on shedding a lot.
Julia balked when his unfamiliar eyes fell on her, and he was still smiling. It was Hiroshi, except that it wasn't. They didn't talk the same way—even his voice was a little different, a little sing-song, like she imagined a cat would be while luring a canary toward its welcoming jaws. His posture had completely changed, his eyes—everything… Everything except his face.
"You okay there, Jules?" His smile flickered out briefly, like a candle, and for a moment, she could see all of the simmering rage and utter devotion in his stranger's stare. "He's going to suffer for what he's done," he promised her quietly, "I'll kill him slowly. Don't cry." Then the smirk was back in full force, directed once again towards Kenji, who bristled.
"You're awfully confident for a halfbreed all the way over there, when I have a gun and your mate," the human pointed out, voice and eyes hard as granite.
"Mm. I think you think you know me," he intoned. "—But you don't."
It was Kenji's turn to laugh. "Oh, believe me… I know all about you, Takenawa."
He cocked an eyebrow, unfazed with his foreign smirk still in place. "Hiroshi, you mean? Ooh," he hissed, mocking in his delivery, "he's not in right now. Afraid you just missed him. And I can promise you that you've never met me. Likes to keep me a secret, you see."
"Wait…" Miroku murmured to himself, stunned as he stared at his cousin's back, the realization sinking in. Then his green eyes flew to Julia, openly worried now. The woman looked so confused as she studied her lover. "Julia," he called quietly, cautiously, eyes still glued to Hiroshi's back. "I need you to come to me, okay?"
She flicked her attention hesitantly to her friend, still so confused. "But…. gun," she reminded him.
Not that he'd forgotten the gun, but that was now the least of his concerns.
"Leave her be, Roku," he commanded, tone somehow managing to be light and dark at the same time. "He'll let her go soon enough."
There was a scoff, a nasally huff of an incredulous laugh as the gun remained trained on Julia's temple. "That arrogance will cost you if you aren't careful…. Do you think I am completely without protection? Just who the hell do you think I am?"
"I think you're in over your head."
If the human heard his response, he didn't acknowledge it. Lips curled back in a cocky sneer, he pushed forward. "And from what I've heard, your society frowns upon murdering humans. What would your Uncle think? And after all those youkai you killed for the same threat… I was told you were ruthless, but no one told me you were a hypocrite, of all things, Takenawa," he goaded, and the hanyou knew he was trying to bide his time for those youkai he'd missed on the first floor to finish their sweep and make their way to his rescue.
"You're not listening to me. I'm not Hiro." Quiet laughter rumbled forth, and he shook his head, releasing a long, sympathetic whistle. "Man…he must really hate you. This is the first time he's ever done this. 'Have at him,' he told me. 'I don't care what you do as long as you don't let him touch Julia again.'" And like liquid, his features shifted smoothly, all humor devoured by rage and hatred. "Fuck, if I'm not going to make you regret touching her a first time…"
The human shuffled nervously behind Julia, pulling her closer for added security, and the first acrid tendrils of Kenji Ikeda's fear wafted towards him, mingling with the rush of fear from the older kitsune behind him.
Good.
That would make this next part easier. The man probably didn't even know exactly why he was afraid—he wouldn't be able to put his finger on what, exactly, made this hanyou so different.
And he knew how he looked. He was very much aware of what he'd done to Hiroshi's body and psyche over the past month. So, yeah, his body currently wasn't as strong or fast as it once was, but the instinct, the reflexes, the savageness and lack of mercy—that was all still very much there, as strong as it ever was. And he was as deadly as he ever was.
Kenji apparently worked closely with monsters without fearing for his life because he had money.
But the hanyou had no need for his money. And there was some part of Ikeda that recognized on a base, subconscious level that he was a new kind of dangerous.
"You look like you got a few good licks in, Jules," he praised, eyes moving from the dried blood on Ikeda's nose to the bleeding wound on his right shoulder.
She bit her lip, confused, when his attention was turned back to her. That…was not the man she'd fallen in love with. He wasn't lying—that wasn't Hiroshi. But even though he was a stranger, he was an ally. That much she knew. "Mimi would murder me if I'd just rolled over," she pointed out hesitantly, and he barked out a single laugh.
"Atta girl."
His absolute arrogance was something that she wasn't familiar with when combined with that sneering smirk—she shuddered when his smooth voice rippled over her like a caress.
When he turned those eyes, so full of fire, back to Ikeda, she was able to breathe again.
"So. How do you want to do this?"
Pressing the gun into Julia's temple with a bruising force, Kenji dared a peek over his shoulder, a victorious grin claiming his face. "With an audience."
The hanyou lazily followed the gesture up and to the far left to see a news chopper in the distance, heading straight toward them with purpose.
"They coming here?" he asked, unimpressed.
"They came at my request, yes."
"Fuck, that's definitely not much of an incentive to keep you alive," Hiroshi sneered, grin widening now as he brandished his claws. "I always did fancy myself a performer."
"If you kill me like the animal you are, in front of the entire world, what will your uncle say?—"
"Why the fuck are you so obsessed with Sesshoumaru?" the hanyou puzzled. "This is at least the third fucking time you've mentioned him and his opinion of us…. It's not as effective a threat as you seem to think it is."
Pausing at the blunt interruption, at the hanyou's mocking tone, Ikeda seemed to falter a bit, some of the wind taken from his sails. "I'm not some nobody that can be swept under the rug. If you kill me on camera, people are going to have questions. People will talk. Your secret will be out. Your empire will fall."
The hanyou seemed to consider his words, relaxing his claws and settling back on his heels. "So what are you proposing?"
"I'm going to hail that helicopter. Then Julia and I are going to board it and leave. And you're going to let us."
"Am I?" The teasing lilt in his tone was rewarded with a black scowl from Ikeda.
"If you ever want to see your mate alive again, then yes. You will."
"Hm," he considered, turning those appraising gold eyes from Ikeda to the helicopter almost above them now. "I don't know anyone on that chopper. So, I think I'd rather just take it down, and then rip your spine out through your asshole before you can lay another fucking finger on her. That work for you?"
While Ikeda was still processing his declaration, the hanyou raked his claws up his arm, shredding cotton and skin alike, his own blood painting his claws now, much to Julia's horror.
Shippou, who had been starting to spiral into a panic, was not so far gone that he didn't recognize the brewing attack instantly—it was his father's, after all, the very first youki attack Inuyasha had ever learned.
"Hiroshi, no!" Shippou barked, darting forward to grab the bloodied wrist before he could bring it—and the helicopter-down.
He paused, looking over his shoulder at the kitsune, a malicious grin stretching across his face when Shippou's astonishment morphed into a mask of horror as all blood drained from his face. And he knew, saw it plain as day across Shippou's face—the kitsune had been there that day with Daphne, and he recognized him… "You about to tell me how to do my job, kitsune?" the hanyou asked, a brow raised, almost amused. "Anyway, thought we told you to stay outside." And then he mercifully released Shippou's gaze, and turned back to meet Kenji, bloodied fingers still flexing even as the youkai held his wrist in a vice-grip.
Miroku shuffled behind him, watching his back carefully, stunned by the careless threat to civilian lives. "Technically, we are still outside, so…" But Hiroshi wasn't listening to him anymore, his attention fixed on the only two humans on the rooftop.
Shippou stood frozen, unmoving, eyes still wide at the rough smirk in that otherwise silky voice—that cold amusement. His hand, still clasping the inu hanyou's wrist, tightened until his knuckles where white. "No…" He had suspected after hearing the hanyou's declaration. But hearing and seeing where two completely different things. Memories of a past he could never quite forget came flooding back, and Shippou was knocked breathless.
Turning his head enough so that his golden eyes could pin the kitsune in place once again, Hiroshi quirked a brow. "You're going to want to let go of me now…"
"H-Hiroshi, you can't—they're innocent. Not to mention the people below that could be killed or hurt when it crashes." All those people gathered outside the building below during the evacuation…. He searched the young hanyou's face carefully for any sign of recognition, for any glimpse of the kind and mild Hiroshi, who was loved so fiercely by his parents. Who would never even consider a stunt like this.
But he only saw Masuru.
He tried again, imploring now. "I can maybe understand the one with the gun on Julia. Guy seems like a total dick. That could be self-defense—I'll even tell Sesshoumaru as much. But if you kill innocent people—"
There seemed to be some struggle now, a shift and flare in his youki as he seemed to squirm uncomfortably for the briefest of moments.
"Fuck off," Shippou heard him hiss to himself under his breath. "You said 'any means necessary.'" And then he stilled and straightened—whatever inner conflict he'd had already apparently resolved.
His narrowed eyes were still glued to Kenji as he spoke to Shippou, loud enough for the human to hear his vicious promise. "I'll burn down the entire city, you included, before I let him take her away on that thing. I won't tell you again, kitsune: Let. Go."
"Look—let me take care of the helicopter. I can make them go away, but for fuck's sake, keep your blood to yourself!"
"Hiro," Miroku began under his breath, quiet and placating, hopeful when an ear swiveled in his direction, though the inu hanyou was still glaring at the human on several yards away. "You told me Jules is your mate. It's obvious she's tied to you. If you end up wanted or dead at the end of all of this, where does that leave her?"
He at least seemed to be considering his cousin's words, a low, irritated growl ripping its way out of him.
"Fine," he bit out at last, nothing if not begrudgingly. "I'll leave the chopper to you." It wasn't until he flicked the excess blood off his claws that Shippou was able to breath again, almost sagging in relief as he backed away from the hanyou. "Take care of it."
"Sure thing," Shippou told him, too relieved for the moment to be horrified by the ghost from his past. Closing his fist tightly enough to draw a few drops of blood, he opened it again to a small handful of blue mushrooms. And then without warning, he hurled them at the helicopter, watching as they erupted into a cloud of spores, which quickly settled into a normal looking cloud, thick and unmoving between them. With a flick of his wrist, the cloud began to spread, circling them, and shielding them from any sort of aerial view.
With that issue taken care of, he immediately fished his phone out of his pocket.
Trying to hide his sudden distress and distracted by the new cloud hanging around them, Kenji didn't even realize he'd eased up on his grip on the gun and Julia, until the crown of her head suddenly snapped back into his already tender nose.
Ignoring the stars in her eyes and taking advantage of his loosened grip, she immediately went dead-weight, dropping to the ground and out of his arms in his surprise. And Kenji would have been confused, but then Hiroshi was already on him, a quick jab to his sternum causing his heart to stutter as he stumbled back several feet away from the fallen girl.
An ear flicked behind him, ensuring that Miroku was already helping Julia, pulling her out of the line of fire. He could also hear Shippou whispering something into his cell phone. He didn't know who Masuru was, but it looked like Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru would be here any moment now. "Tell them to hurry," he called over his shoulder. "They're going to miss the show."
By the time Ikeda had righted himself, still clutching at his rapidly bruising chest, the hanyou had already dismantled his gun, dropping the mangled metal pieces to the gravel floor. And then Hiroshi took a single step forward, all predator, and Ikeda knew true fear for the first time in his life. Because only fifteen minutes ago, he'd been where Hiroshi was now, stalking prey, enjoying the fear he was inspiring…
"Who…who are you?" Ikeda asked, trying to keep the horror out of his voice.
Another step forward, posture entirely threatening now as he looked ready to pounce. "No one important, really. But to you? Oh, man…"
Kenji realized then that he'd based his goading, his approach on the belief and character assessment that Hiroshi was lawful—whether good, neutral or evil, he stuck to the rules rigidly. But he hadn't expected the chaotic. Yagami had fucked him.
He thought he was ready to poke the hornet's nest, but—
"You ever heard the story of the scorpion and the frog?"
The question startled Ikeda, who was still slowly backing away, a cold sweat beading on the back of his neck. Because what the fuck.
The hanyou rolled with the silence. "No? It's one of those old fables that ancient men tell their grandchildren to try and bestow their wisdom and shit upon them. Most of them are boring as fuck and go nowhere, but this one… I always liked this one. There's a real message there, you know?" His eyes glittered with promise, with viciousness.
"If you're going to kill me—" he snapped, trying to gather all of the dignity he had left.
But the hanyou wouldn't be interrupted or sidetracked. "The scorpion and the frog are natural enemies, right? Hell, everything's a natural enemy when it comes to the scorpion. But the scorpion comes up to the frog, anyway. What's he got to be afraid of? 'Help me get across this river,' the scorpion says, but the frog knows better. He's terrified of the scorpion. …And he should be. 'No. If I let you on my back, you'll sting me.' But the scorpion is smart and persuasive. 'Don't be stupid,' he tells the frog, 'if I sting you while you're carrying me across, we'll both drown.'
"Takenawa, just get on with—"
"The frog thinks it over," he continued, bulldozing right over the interruption, "and finally agrees. The scorpion isn't someone you can just say 'no' to. And maybe he can ingratiate himself to the scorpion. Have that protection. That power watching over him. They're only halfway across the river when the frog feels fire in his side. Again in his back. Again. Again. Pain like nothing he's ever felt before. The scorpion is merciless in his assault. Again, he strikes. Again." He grinned when Ikeda finally reached the concrete barrier on the opposite end of the roof from the kitsunes, cornered with no where else to go.
"And all the frog wants to know as they're drowning is 'Why? Why would you kill me after you promised you wouldn't? Why would you kill us both?'
"And the scorpion—and this is real good; you're gonna want to listen to this—the scorpion says, '"Why?" Because it's in my nature. And I'd rather die than let my enemy live.'"
"Hiro can try and hide me, and fuck, I'll let him. After all, I give a shit about the Old Man and 'Gome, too. I'd die for Jules, too. He can pretend to be civilized because it makes 'em happy." Grabbing Kenji by the roots of his hair, he dragged him forward, mouth to his ear. "But you should know before you threaten Hiro, before you threaten the only people on this piece-of-shit rock that I give a fuck about— you should know that I'm still here. And I'm still dangerous, and you should feel my sting," he hissed between clenched teeth before shoving the man back. He smirked as Kenji stumbled back against the concrete at his back and fought to regain his balance. "It's difficult to deny your nature, you know. Fuck, I don't think anybody knows it quite like Hiro. But you push a man enough, and his true nature reveals itself, regardless, and it won't just push back. It strikes and savages. But you already know all about savages, don't you?"
He could hear the youkai coming now—two from the stairwell, and a third was scaling the building. He was genuinely pleased to discover that Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru would be arriving within moments, as well—Sesshoumaru's youki approaching fast, and with his old man in tow.
"You wanted monsters? Pay attention, Kenji. I'll show you one. You!" he demanded with a roar, pointing at a bulky and bemused-looking familiar bear youkai as he and his twin burst through the busted metal door onto the roof. Both were wielding guns—big guns, and he was thrilled that it meant he'd just have to move faster. He recognized one of them as the dick that had threatened Hiroshi at the start of all this shit. Oh, this was going to be fun. He grinned. "You first."
The youkai was already in the process of pulling the trigger when Hiroshi was suddenly right there, right in front of him. His hand came up hard and fast, jamming the barrel under the bear's jaw with enough force to pierce through skin and shatter bone, the metal of the muzzle in his mouth and under his tongue when the round was finally released. There was an explosion of blood and brain matter, accompanied by a pained, furious cry from his twin, and Hiroshi weathered the gruesome shower, pinning the surviving brother, stunned and staring, with a dangerous smirk. "Now you."
But the youkai—the one who had once been introduced to him as Sasha, or some shit—was already firing upon him, shouting in his Russian tongue. Hiroshi flinched when a bullet managed to cut through the meat of his arm as he dodged, Julia's horrified scream and his own poisonous, indignant fury fueled him faster. Just who the fuck did this guy think he was to spill his blood?
Sasha made the fatal mistake of letting him get too close.
He grabbed the barrel of the gun, an automatic, yanking it out of his grip and using it to bludgeon him across the face in a single, fluid motion. A sick crunch and the immediate sight of blood welling up in an eyeball told him he'd broken the youkai's nose, as well as his orbital socket.
"Disappointing," he murmured, voice lilting and dangerously sweet. The youkai had staggered back, barely keeping himself on his feet, but looked at him now, stunned and dazed. "And after all that posturing, too…" His other hand opened, rammed up to grab him by the throat, while he hooked a leg behind the bear's knee, unlocking it and taking advantage of the sudden lack of balance it afforded him. The moment the youkai was slammed to the ground, Hiroshi was on him, honing in on the spot that had already been compromised. A single, deft and deliberate blow to the man's already weakened facial structure collapsed the rest of his bones, and with a hideous and pained gurgle, there was a flash of light and ash. And that was the end of Sasha.
The hanyou straightened back up and looked at the hole in his arm, sticking a claw into the small opening to feel around. It had missed the bone—small mercies—and had gone through and through.
"Shit," he muttered, watching as the blood slowly began to seep from the wound to trickle down his arm.
He looked up just in time to see the third youkai, the one Cillian had injured earlier, vault onto the roof and charge. The man was subsequently floored and pinned with a foot against his cheek for his efforts.
And then Inuyasha was suddenly there on the roof, Sesshoumaru at his side, releasing his hold on his brother. He surveilled the scene, all that blood, Julia's absolute shock and horror, her battered form as she leaned into Miroku for support, the now-desperate human, watching as his last hopes turned to ash, the squirming amphibian youkai held still by the foot digging into his temple. And he found his voice, as rough as sandpaper. "Hiroshi, wait—"
Gold met gold, but there was no dangerous smile this time. No cruel humor. Only the blunt reality of 'this is what I am' and 'fuck it'. The youkai's scream was quickly strangled as his head caved in under the hanyou's weight. The body didn't dissolve, so Hiroshi kicked it half-heartedly, and it rolled to a stop at Ikeda's feet, connected to the hanyou by the snail-trail of blood it left in its wake.
He let out a short, barking laugh when he saw Inuyasha flinch at the action. "Don't look so shocked, old man. We've met before. You remember."
"I…remember," he admitted, clearing his throat as he stared at his son. So this was Masuru. Well, not Masuru, not really…but this wasn't Hiroshi, either.
"You're not going to give us any more bullshit about blood stains and whatnot, are you? Because I have to tell you, I'm not in the mood for metaphors and adages at the moment. Already met my quota with that Scorpion and Frog bullshit. Sorry ya missed it."
"No talking," he agreed, his face completely blank, and the young hanyou frowned.
"What, going to tell me not to kill this bastard straight out, then?" There was a hint of warning, of challenge in the faux-light tone, as though the younger inu was feeling out his father still.
Inuyasha remembered the hatred he bore after his family had been taken from him so long ago now. He remembered how every cell in his body sung to kill the youkai responsible, how angry he was when Kagome claimed her for herself. "No. He's yours to deal with. This has nothing to do with me." His surprise was short-lived, however, before his father spoke again, voice still quiet, subdued. "I brought your sword."
A clawed hand shot out to snatch the flying sheath out of the air, and the pup stared at it for a long moment before his eyes fell upon Inuyasha. "…Thanks…"
"Yeah, pup."
"And you?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow at the Inu no Taisho while he busied himself with fastening the scabbard to his waist. "He seems to think you're going to stop me."
The tai youkai's cold golden gaze fell to the human, who was currently trying his best to hide his fear. "From?"
In lieu of answering, the hanyou rolled his shoulders, popped his neck from side to side.
"Hn. I would ask that you keep him alive for now. For questioning."
Hiroshi flitted a brief glance to his uncle before pinning Kenji under his hungry glower again. "'Alive' can mean a lot of different things."
Sesshoumaru considered this, his unreadable facade unmoved. "Yes. I suppose it could," he allowed. "He needs to be able to talk. That is my condition. I'll give you one minute to settle your differences while I see to Cillian and Kichiro."
Julia's gasp and the flare of youki told him that his uncle had dismissed himself from the roof in his energy form.
"See?" Hiroshi directed to the human, almost smug. "Guess he doesn't give much of a shit about what happens to you either. Shitty threat—not effective at all."
There was a flash of movement, and Kenji's clenched fist was suddenly enveloped by the hanyou's. "A minute, hm?" he mused softly to himself. "I can work with that."
And then his fingers flexed viciously, and beneath them, the balled fist crunched and shattered, tugging an involuntary scream from Kenji's lips as he stopped his struggles to free himself, and merely bowed under the pain, driven to his knees. The hanyou held him up by his shattered fist, grabbing a fistful of hair with his other hand. "That's for laying hands our mate," he hissed through clenched teeth, using his hair to keep him firmly on his feet. "If you wanted my attention, there were less suicidal ways to go about it." The hand curled around Kenji's slowly began to turn clockwise, and the human watched in horror as his bones began to protest while they continued to twist. "This is for Kannon, Jackson, Rei's pups—God, even Mimi was on your list, you sick fuck."
"No—N-no," Kenji begged softly, whimpered, staring at his arm with wide, frantic eyes as the bones in his forearm groaned and popped.
"Hiro, wait…"
The hanyou's brow furrowed as he looked over his shoulder where Julia was still leaning heavily on Miroku. "…What?"
"Can we just go? Please? You don't have to do this." She sounded tired, weary, and his mind reeled.
"…Why?" He asked, so offended, so disgusted by the idea of stopping, of stopping because of her mercy. "After everything he's done…? No. He needs to be punished."
"And he will be. But not like this. Not by you. You're better than this. You're better than he is."
He looked at her—really looked at her. Studied her face, her exhausted, pained expression with such intensity and familiarity And she was reminded that she knew nothing about this Hiroshi, but felt like he knew everything there was to know about her. She felt disadvantaged and disoriented by the fierceness of his gaze. Finally, he relented, expression giving from that stoney severity into something much worse. There was a scoff, a horrible, cold smile that she hoped to never see on his face again. "No. I'm really, really not."
And then, with a sudden scream that wrenched Hiroshi back to the surface, and a sickening crack that left Julia cringing, pressing her face into Miroku's shoulder, the bones of Ikeda's forearm pierced through the skin, spiraling—almost like a bloody pinwheel.
Hiroshi released him, watching as he dropped to his knees again, still screaming and looking for all the world like he was seconds from passing out. The hanyou swallowed bile, but didn't take his eyes off the screaming man. "Miroku? Take Julia, and get her out of here."
The woman pulled herself away from the kitsune and attempt to limp a step towards him, dazed still—but she knew enough that Hiroshi needed her. She couldn't just abandon him here. Not like he was. Not as someone else. "No—Hiro—"
"Jules. Please," he implored, and turned to meet her eyes, fully aware that she seemed to deflate with relief when she recognized him. To his amazement, she even smiled, eyes awash with tears for the countless time today. "This isn't something you should have seen."
"I can…I can wait for you. I'm okay. Please, Hiroshi," she begged, though she didn't come any closer. "Please don't make me go."
"Sorry, Julia. Miroku." He met his best friend's eye, and the kitsune nodded once and stepped forward. Confident that his cousin would see to the woman, he turned his attention back to Ikeda again.
"Come on, Jules," the kitsune prodded, wrapping his fingers around her bicep in a firm but careful grip.
Now that his son's youki was familiar once again, Inuyasha was able to breathe again, and he nodded at Julia's ankle before addressing Miroku. "Gome's on her way. Wait in the lobby for her so that she can check that ankle out before you go—"
"Kidney, too," Hiroshi called out, back still to them.
"After Kagome's seen to her, head to Sesshoumaru's. Kagura and Rei will be there with the twins."
Miroku nodded before Inuyasha caught his arm and met his eyes with an intensity meant to drive home how important this was. "Straight to Sesshoumaru's. And stay there. Shippou—make sure they get there safe?"
"We'll talk later," the kitsune told him flatly, a loaded, pointed promise, as he made to lead the way to the stairwell entryway.
"Yeah," he agreed quietly, eyes on his son's back once again.
Julia looked at Miroku before she bit her lip and tossed another hesitant glance toward the man she loved, still standing over the man she now knew was responsible for the deaths of countless children. A man who was now whimpering and pathetic after only moments of violence. And something Not-Hiro had said was nagging at her. "Kannon…Kannon was hurt?" she asked Miroku feebly, trying to swallow the rising panic at the idea of being separated from him once again.
"He's fine now. You can see for yourself. Come on." He offered her his back when she nodded, and rested a hand on his shoulder to pull herself up when she paused, bit her lip, bit back fresh tears.
"Hiroshi," she whispered, and silver ears flicked towards her, though he made no other move to acknowledge her. "I'm sorry. I—"
"Water under the bridge, Jules. I'll see you at home."
"I just—I never wanted—I'm so sorry," she choked out, the need for him to understand a desperate one.
He sighed, and his smile was brief and sad and purely for her benefit. "I'll see you at home," he repeated, and though she understood the finality in his tone, she stood frozen, staring at him, watching him watch Kenji as he stood straight and unmoved.
She was still staring when Miroku gently guided her onto his back and even as he carried her to the busted doorway and down the stairs.
He waited until Miroku was out of range of his hearing and a rush of overwhelming youki rejoined them on the roof. Sesshoumaru appeared as the glow of energy dissipated.
"Did it work?" Inuyasha asked, staring at the katana on his brother's hip.
"Hn. For Kichiro, yes. Cillian will require your miko, so long as he still breathes. I see you made use of your minute," he added, and Hiroshi was positive he wasn't imagining the subtle relief he heard in his uncle's tone.
Before him, Kenji was struggling to push himself to his feet, attempting to gather any remaining indignant pride, as he glared at the Inu no Taisho and his Hounds. However, Hiroshi was quick to keep him in his place. "No, you stay where you are. Kneel," he demanded, and the panting man, too busy nursing his wounds and pouring all the venom he could muster into his glower, ignored him. "On your knees!" he pressed through clenched fangs, the silver gleam of Gintsume pressed against the paling flesh of his neck atop his shoulder, and Kenji obediently sank to his knees once again, the blade following his descent loyally. "Because of you, over two hundred children are dead. Mutilated. Children!" he repeated with a cold scowl, and the sword slowly sank into the flesh just enough to draw blood. "It's time for you to answer for your transgressions, Ikeda."
"Fuck…you," he panted, scowling up at the man that held him in his mercy, a fine sheen of sweat coating his face.
If possible, Hiroshi's face darkened even more, but ultimately, the slight was ignored. "How many youkai work for you?"
The man glared up at him silently, hatefully.
"Or I could break your other arm, if you'd like," the hanyou suggested as his father and uncle appeared at either side of him. "Think about it carefully, Ikeda. I believe that one is beyond repair."
"Keh. I think you're right, Hiro. Might as well go ahead and chop it off," Inuyasha threatened, bluffed, a hand lingering on Tetsusaiga's hilt, and the wounded businessman stared at him with utter disgust.
"Ah. Inuyasha Takenawa. I've looked into you—all of your family actually. Your story is infamous among youkai. Well…those in the know, at least—that is your story, right? I seem to remember something about your complete ineptitude when it comes to protecting your mate, as well. Must run in the family."
Inuyasha gave him the reaction he so obviously wanted, a warning snarl moving the air around them as his hackles raised.
"Rumor has it, she was slain—did I hear that correctly?" He reveled in the growl that became louder and sharper, and Hiroshi shot his father a warning look.
"Don't let him bait you," he murmured. "He knows there's no way out of this."
"Such a pity for someone as lovely as sweet Kagome to go through such a horrible ordeal," he sneered. "Such…perfection. I'd have given up your son's whore in a second for yours."
There was a flurry of sudden movement, and when everything was still again, Inuyasha was snarling, claws at the ready, and the flat of Gintsume pressed against his chest, holding him back. Three golden glares tore at the human, though nobody moved for a long moment.
With Ginstume still restraining him, Inuyasha pointed a threatening finger at the kneeling human. "Keep my mate out of your fucking mouth—"
"Inuyasha."
The hanyou's mouth closed with an audible snap, tapering off into a long, low growl.
With his brother effectively silenced, Sesshoumaru turned his focus back to Ikeda. "You are going to be taken into my custody. Where you will not speak, unless it is to answer a direct question. To do otherwise will result in your immediate death. …Human or no. And, to settle your doubts, I do have the authority to do so."
With Inuyasha somewhat mollified, Hiroshi pulled Gintsume away to sheath the sword. "We'll need a kitsune to get him out of here without drawing attention."
Inuyasha grunted at his son and called Grint, and before long, one of his hunters, a slight female kitsune, was meeting them in the stairwell to cast her illusions and they began the long trek down in silence, Ikeda's pained, labored breathing the only sound between them.
They exited the stairwell to a sudden burst of activity as the Hounds and Cleaners alike were busy roping the entire Ground floor off and disposing of any remains—any traces that anyone had died in this hallway barely an hour prior. Kichiro and Cillian were no longer lying on the floor, though their blood stains remained.
"Reminds me," Hiro muttered without bothering to make eye contact with his uncle, "There were some humans who saw me on the stairs earlier. I was in a hurry, and wasn't exactly inconspicuous."
The barest of weary sighs was his only response.
They rounded the corner to the lobby just in time to see Cillian's mate—a reedy ferret with platinum hair and pink eyes, pull Kagome into a tight hug, clinging to her as her shoulders shook.
"Thank you," she managed through her tears, and the miko squeezed her gently and pulled back with a smile.
"Of course, Ilsa."
"I don't know—how I can ever—repay—"
"None of that, now," Kagome chided warmly. "As many times as your mate has saved mine?"
"Who's been telling you lies?" Inuyasha cut in with a half-hearted scoff, though his eyes went straight to the two youkai ambling over, still coated in drying blood. "Good to see you both in one piece."
"Heard Itsuki wasn't so lucky." The corners of Cillian's mouth turned downward when Inuyasha shook his head. "Shit…" Then his dark gaze fell to the wounded human, studying him, his features as well as the state he was in.
"Your girl just left, Hiro." Even as Cillian spoke, he seemed to address the human, Kichiro's low, unhappy rumble moving the air around them as the inu youkai stared Ikeda down from his partner's side. "…You were too easy on him."
Hiroshi didn't disagree, but he didn't say as much.
Beside Inuyasha, his mate had grown quiet, disengaged from the ferret youkai now and staring at Ikeda with a furrowed brow. The man was pale with blood loss, jaws and eyes clenched shut. With a grunt, he pushed the human to stumble forward a step. "We gotta load him up, and get him to headquarters."
"I got 'em," Kichiro murmured when Cillian made to step forward. "You were barely lucid five minutes ago."
"What? You dick, you were literally dead thirty minutes ago."
Kichiro laughed, clapping the stoat on his shoulder. "Only for a little while. Take Ilsa home, and go see your pup." He nodded at Inuyasha as he accepted the wounded burden.
"Sesshoumaru and I are right behind you—don't let anyone near him until we get there."
"You got it, boss. Alright, move it," he commanded Kenji before motioning to the kitsune to follow them.
Kagome slowly followed after them a few steps, studying the man as he was ferreted through the automatic doors of the lobby entrance. There was something vaguely familiar about him. Something she knew, on such a base level, and she struggled to place it.
A spark of a memory, a glimpse of a past life.
"Muso?" She puzzled, head tilted as she tried to place exactly why that man felt so familiar. But no. No, that wasn't quite right, was it? And then it hit her like a fist to the chest. Because she hadn't thought it would ever be possible…. Kagome felt ice crawl up her spine and shook her head. "No," she breathed, corrected. "Onigumo."
Inuyasha looked down at her, brows drawn. "What was that?"
"That's—"
"No." He cut her off firmly, hard eyes sliding back to the human being loaded into the SUV. "That can't be right. You're wrong."
"Inuyasha—" she began, reaching out with a light hand to touch his arm, to tether herself to him. But then the man in question noticed her, saw her, eyes managing to both light up and darken immeasurably, a slow smile stretching his thin lips… She felt her heart stutter in her chest—a product of old fear and trauma.
With an easy sidestep, Inuyasha was suddenly in front of her, body tall and imposing as he shielded her from Ikeda's gaze, a low warning growl rumbling forth as his ears plastered themselves to his scalp. But then the man was pushed none-too-gently into the vehicle by Grint and Kichiro, and the door closed behind him.
Together, they watched the vehicle pull away. And though the windows were tinted and she could no longer see him, she felt him. Felt his eyes on her, oily and caustic and everything she hadn't felt since her dream the night Kikyo died.
Inuyasha was glaring at the asphalt before them where Ikeda had stood only a moment ago. "I thought he'd come back as a fucking cockroach," the hanyou spat, and his mate shuddered. "Not a goddamned billionaire."
She remembered the peaceful oblivion she'd sent him and the rest of Naraku to twenty five years ago.
"I didn't think he'd come back at all…"
"So maybe he's the bandit's reincarnation. But he's not Naraku."
Kagome chewed on her lip.
"Hey," he murmured, turning in towards her, his fingers plucking at the hem of her top. He ducked to meet her eyes, watching as she refocused. "He's not Naraku," he repeated—a promise.
"He's not," she agreed at last. "But what if he was trying to be?"
Inuyasha actually looked worried now. His brother appeared at his side, watching the people still gathered around the entrance, trying to divine what had happened within the tower. "Ready?"
The hanyou nodded, pressing a kiss to his mate's forehead. "Keep an eye on the kids?"
She twisted to meet his lips instead. "Of course. How long do you think you'll be?"
"Don't wait up. Set a barrier around the house once you get back. I'll call you when I'm close."
"Before you go…" Hiroshi began hesitantly.
"I think you should go to the girl," his father answered for him, picking up on the suggestion. "That should be your only priority."
"There's a ledger up there in his penthouse. We need it. I can take Ryu up there. Once I'm sure we're not missing anything, then I'll go home."
He watched his father exchange a look with his uncle before relenting with a sigh. "Fine. But that's it—you go upstairs, have a look around, and then you go home. Ryu can bring us anything you find. Deal?"
He was restless as he agreed easily—itching to leave now, to see her. He'd nearly lost her today, and though he dreaded actually seeing her and talking to her after everything that had happened between them, everything she'd seen him do today, he craved her scent and needed her close. "Of course."
And still covered in blood, he waved Ryu over, and together they made their way to the penthouse.
Quote of the Day:
"I will reign down on a godly fucking firestorm upon you. You're gonna have to call the fucking United Nations and get a fucking binding resolution to keep me from fucking destroying you. I'm talking scorched earth, motherfucker! I will massacre you! I WILL FUCK YOU UP!" – Les Grossman in "Tropic Thunder"
I just need you all to know that in the original version of this chapter, Charlie and Abigail go out in a murder-suicide. In front of Hiroshi. And like…I know this story is all kinds of fucked up, but WTF was teenage me thinking when she wrote that shit?
And thank you all for your never-ending patience and support. I appreciate the reviews and messages. You all give me the drive and motivation to finish this story. And we are SO CLOSE to the end now.
