A/N: Kohaku

The young woman in the lab coat frantically ran towards the entrance. In the dark, she didn't notice the body lying on the ground and, with a loud shriek, she tripped and fell over. The shriek resonated loudly in the hallway.

"Shoot..." the woman moaned, rubbing the hurt ankle. The static rippled inside the headset.

"Fuka? What happened?"

"It's okay, I just... tripped."

"Tripped? Over a body?"

The woman's eyes darted towards the motionless silhouette lying next to her. "Yeah, male."

"Could you check if he's alive?"

Fuka quickly rolled the body over, and small wrinkles of unconcealed surprise spread across her face.

"Kugutsu-san, it's a boy!"

"A boy?" The voice in the headset sounded incredulous. "The cops take kids?"

"I think he's a special one." Fuka pushed lightly on the boy's limp wrist. Her face softened. "He's alive, but unconscious."

"Can you bring him?"

"What?"

There was a hint of impatience in the man's voice. "Fuka, can you bring him?"

The woman was quiet. She silently looked at the glass doors, the black night and neon-lit lamp posts giving just the right intensity to see her reflection. It was too distorted to trace how her eyes dimmed, losing bits of hope.

"No problem, Kugutsu-san."

"Good luck." The static cut off. Suppressing her emotions, Fuka tugged the boy into her arms, before lifting him over her shoulders. Her tennis shoes slid across the floor, supporting the weight. Heavily hunched, Fuka limped into the dark hallway, the one she was running less than two minutes earlier. Her breath was stifled. There were resounding shots on the top levels, becoming louder with every step she took. Fuka gritted her teeth, trying to ignore them.

She stopped next to the door to the right of the elevator. Unable to let go of the body, Fuka had to squat down. The laminated card dangled off her neck but failed to activate the lock. Gritting her teeth, Fuka waddled closer, the entire upper back numb from the pressure. The card hit against the lock, and the light flashed green.

Fuka jerked the handle; this time, she had to put her baggage down. For a moment, her shoulders painfully breathed. Holding out the door with her foot, Fuka dragged the boy inside.

"Sorry, bud," the young woman quietly apologized as she roughly slid him across the floor. As the door closed shut, Fuka hoisted the boy back on her shoulders. In the darkness, she groped for the railing and carefully started making her way up the staircase.

[...]

It was silent for a couple of minutes now. The top floors seemed to have gone dead. Fuka listened to her footsteps and breath, unable to make them quieter. Her shoulders and neck were flaring from pain, and the arm dangling next to her face was disorienting her.

Somewhere high up, a door banged against the wall and rapid footsteps erupted in the silence.

Fuka froze, sweat drenching her clothes as the footsteps became louder and louder. Suddenly, a blinding light shone in her face, and she squinted.

"Fuka?"

Fuka turned her face back around, relief relaxing her features.

"Kugutsu-san?"

The scientist lowered the flashlight on the boy. For the first time, Fuka noticed that he had freckles. The scientist's face became strained, deformed by the guilt and sadness.

"Lower him down."

Fuka carefully kneeled; placing her hand under his head, she gently lowered the boy onto the steps. Meanwhile, Kugutsu wordlessly unlatched his briefcase. Fuka eyed him as he rubbed the syringe with the disinfectant.

"Kugutsu-san, what happened? Why did the shooting stop?"

"I assume everyone was eliminated." Kugutsu focused his eyes on the instruments to keep his voice from shaking. In the corner of his vision, he saw Fuka's hand tensing into a nervous fist.

"By those two?"

"I don't know. Maybe the police got them."

The capsule floated inside the syringe, right at the fifteen milliliter mark. Kugutsu silently turned the boy over, brushing away the hair on his nape. Fuka instinctively took the flashlight to help the scientist.

"Why though?" she quietly asked, illuminating the back of the boy's neck. Her eyes traced as the capsule disappeared from the syringe and into the needle.

"For now, it's the safest way to hide it," the scientist responded in the same quiet tone, lightly pressing on the boy's skin. "Even if they extract the shard, there's bound to be some sort of outrage. They won't be able to cover it up."

Kugutsu removed the syringe. Fuka stood up.

"Will you leave him here?"

"Yes." Clasping the briefcase shut, Kugutsu took the final glance at the boy. "Let's go, Fuka."

The young woman forced herself to turn around, trying not to think about the boy. Constantly touching the railing for support, she started down the steps. The scientists followed her with his gaze; when she disappeared in the darkness, he transferred his eyes back on the boy and lowered his hand on the kid's forehead.

"Forgive me, son."

[...]

A gloved, bloodied hand cautiously touched the boy's check, before gently pressing underneath the jaw for the pulse.

A pair of heavy boots stopped in front of the boy. Kageromaru wordlessly looked down; his eyes flickered to Juuromaru who was crouched next to the boy.

"Is that the one you knocked out at the entrance?"

Juuromaru nodded. Kageromaru frowned.

"What the hell is he doing here?"

The static loudly crumpled inside his ear, and the younger brother looked away.

"Kageromaru, copy."

"Kageromaru. Did you locate the shard?"

"No. Neither Kugutsu nor his assistant had it on them when I searched them."

"When you searched... dispose of their bodies."

"Yes sir. The cops?"

"You can leave them be. Juuromaru didn't use his gun to kill them, right?"

"No, we used a cop's baton, just like you said." Kageromaru looked back at the unconscious boy. "Speaking of which, the kid Juuro knocked out at the entrance is on the stairs. I don't think he moved on his own."

There was a quick, thinking silence.

"Kageromaru?"

"Yes?"

"Where did you find the scientist and the assistant?"

"Halfway down the emergency stairs."

The response was nearly immediate. "I see. In that case, take the kid with you."

Kageromaru silently lifted his eyebrows. "Roger that."

"We're taking him with us," he said to Juuromaru as he turned off the connection. The soldier's face smoothened in surprise, but he nodded and easily lifted the boy on his back. His lips were moving as he spoke. Kageromaru turned around, not even needing to hear his brother's voice to know what he said.

Guess it's your lucky day.

The doorbell loudly rings. Startled, I quickly throw my legs off the bed and swat Kirara off my lap. The cat, gracefully landing on the floor, purrs in displeasure.

"Sorry, Kirara," I apologetically smile. Kirara gives me a disdainful, proud look and with a furl of her tail disappears into another room. Fixing the T-shirt, I hurriedly run out of the house across the courtyard and squint into the manually carved out peephole.

Face tired from boredom, Superintendent Taisho is inspecting the flowers hanging from the low rooftop tiles.

I unlock and slide open the door with lightning speed.

"Good day, Superintendent-san."

She turns to me and widely grins.

"Good day, boy. You look better than three weeks ago."

I bow deeply. "Thank you, Superintendent-san. Would you like to come in?"

Her grin widens. "I would've come in even if you didn't ask. But," she waves her hand as she steps into the courtyard. "You have my praise for the manners. Hardly see them these days."

I flush red and close the door behind her.

"Would you like some tea, Superintendent?"

"Green?"

I nod. "Yes, ma'am."

"Alright," Taisho easily agrees. Her eyes mischievously shimmer. "I doubt you'll try to poison me to get out of home arrest."

"Of course not, ma'am." I bow and hurry into the house.

Inside, I force myself to calm down. The superintendent, even if she wanted something, couldn't do any harm. Even if she did… even if she…. my fingers inadvertently clench into a fist. I would deserve it.

Forcibly straightening out the fingers, I walk on stiff legs into the kitchen. Sango-san had a modern teapot, and the water was still hot. Dropping a couple of leaves into two cups, I mechanically pour in the steaming water. The liquid expands into a dirty, but rich green. Setting the cups on a platter, I carefully carry them to the dining room. Don't be scared. Don't be.

To my surprise, the superintendent isn't there. At loss, I twirl my head.

"Superintendent-san?"

"I'm over here."

I quickly scurry to the engawa. She is thoughtfully sitting on the wooden porch, one leg crossed over the other. Looking over her shoulder, she slightly shifts to better take the cup from me.

"Thank you, boy."

"You're welcome." I sit down next to her and carefully blow on my cup. For a while, we sit in silence, looking at the courtyard and drinking the scorching tea.

"You have a nice house."

I immediately glance up at her, waiting for her to say more. The Superintendent motions with her cup at the neatly trimmed bushes rimming the walls.

"Much nicer than the others. They prefer to dwell in crowded apartments." She gives a long, easy sigh. "Consider yourself lucky. Aside from cameras and the ban on going outside, you can hardly call this house arrest."

"Yes, Superintendent-san." I look into my cup, at the leaves swimming on the bottom. When Sango-san brought me here, I felt immense, almost overwhelming relief because something was triggered inside my mind. Associations. But it was unnerving as well, walking from room to room and feeling like I've been here before. The superintendent takes a long, deep gulp of the tea.

"Do you tend the trees yourself?"

I shake my head and slightly smile. "Mmmm. Sango-san and I trim them every morning."

"Sango-san?" Her voice is quiet and warm. My eyes largen. Shame and guilt overcome me like wind. I self-consciously pull in my shoulders, feeling ungrateful and embarrassed, and forcibly stare into the cup despite the scorching steam.

"Forgive me, Superintendent-san," I murmur, barely audible. My eyes water from the steam.

"Not at all, boy. How do you see Sango?"

I shake my head. "I feel that she is someone, someone I can never replace." It's hard to speak about it, as if pushing out a rock from my chest. My fingers tighten over the cup. "But whenever I'm with her, it's like being with a stranger."

"I presume this experience still has some benefits." The police women absently taps the cup. "Learning how to remember and love again. Some would die to start with a clean slate."

"Maybe." A tear rolls down, and I wipe it away in frustration. The conversation drops again. I awkwardly dangle my feet, too unsure to lift up my head to look at her. She probably came to ask about the murdered unit. When the thought crosses my mind, I feel myself breaking in cold sweat, sourly mixing with the heat from the tea. I still couldn't remember more than those couple of minutes outside the entrance. I anxiously rub my palms around the cup. I feel her eyes on me, and I lower my head even further.

"Superintendent-san, did you come here to ask about the unit?" I force myself to look at her. The superintendent blinks, then her lips curl into a condescending, but harmless smile.

"Boy, you were cleared."

My heart jumps.

"W-what?"

Her smile becomes even more condescending. "We didn't tell Sango because the decision was rather recent. The higher-ups looked over your case, and there was just too little evidence to prove anything." She smirked. "Well, it's more like they didn't want to convict you. If they did, I'm sure the evidence would have been enough."

"But... but if it wasn't me, then..." Staring at the tea, I trail off. My head is hurting, hurling bits and pieces of memory to find anything, and I feel myself slightly shaking. I hear a quiet scoff.

"You almost sound as if you want to be convicted."

"No!" My immediate reaction is too loud and abrupt. I instantly curl back, pull in my legs and shoulders, and lower my head. My voice is barely above a whisper. "Forgive me, Superintendent-san."

"You apologize way too often," she sighs and places the empty cup down. Her fingers fold on her lap.

"However, I did come for something."

I look up at her worry. "Yes, ma'am?"

Even though she's not looking at me, her eyes narrow. Inside, I take a breath, preparing to give a good answer.

"First of all, let me praise you for your stellar behavior. According to the cameras, you haven't violated the protocol."

I look to the side, blushing. "To tell the truth, it was nothing, ma'am. The doctor told me to sleep to ease the effects of the concussion." I slightly smile. "It's hard to violate anything when you're sleeping."

Her features crinkle, as if she wants to laugh, but then they suddenly become cold. The amiability that was coming off of her dissipated like dust.

"And when you weren't?"

I frown, not quite understanding her. "Ma'am?"

The superintendent looks away from me and, anchoring her elbows on her knee, rests her chin on her fingers. Her eyes indifferently travel over the courtyard.

"November twentieth, November twenty-fifth, twenty-sixth, twenty-seventh, December third, December seventh. You collapsed on all six instances and were unconscious for at most three minutes and forty two seconds. There hasn't been a single day when you didn't cough." Her eyes narrow even more. "Though I must say you're getting better. Today is the eleventh, so a total of four days of complete normalcy. You didn't cough in my presence either, granted you didn't hold it in."

"No... ma'am..." I make out in loss. Now, I am more confused than scared, especially by the way the superintendent frowns in displeasure.

"You weren't bothered?"

"I mean... it's just side effects of the concussion," I say in uncertainty. Even though they physically drained me out, I didn't think the police would pay attention to them. Besides, they were almost gone. "It happens all the time, right?" I instinctively rub the back of my neck. "Also, the physicians didn't find anything wrong."

Her eyes follow my hand.

"Physicians?"

"When I was checked at Naraku-san's place," I hurriedly explain, dropping the arm back down. "They did an X-ray of my head and neck and didn't find anything, just told me to get rest... that's it." I awkwardly finish, voice growing quieter and quieter as her face became more and more amused.

There was a split second of complete silence. Then, she erupts in uncontrollable laughter.

"Ma'am..." is the only thing I manage to say, while the superintendent, still laughing, stands up. Finally, she shakes her head, the final hilarity escaping in a long, content sigh.

"What a strange bastard." The superintendent turns around, and I quickly scramble to my feet. She waves at me in slight irritation.

"Don't, I'll find my way out on my own. You've done more than enough today, and you still have to prepare dinner for your sister. She's coming home tonight, yes?"

I examine the ground. Talking with the superintendent made me completely forget about that, despite the thought pursuing me for the past three days.

"Yes, Superintendent-san."

The superintendent glances over her shoulder, the tips of her lips lifted in a witty grin.

"Well then, continue breaking the ice with her. Best of luck."

Even though it's biting, it's still genuine. That's why I smile.

"Thank you, Superintendent-san."

She smirks and slides the door behind her.

Staring on the ground, Sango leaned against the wall. The suitcase, propped right next to her, glimmered dully in the fading sunlight. The withering flowers hanging from the roof tiles gave off a faint scent: the winter cold smelled more.

The young woman dug her fingers into the woolen sweater.

She jerked when the phone rang in her purse. Sango slightly hesitated, before reluctantly taking it out. For a moment, she stared at the number before numbly pressing the green button.

"Hello, Miroku."

"Sango."

There's a long pause, but it's neither heavy nor forced. Holding the phone to her ear, Sango watched how birds nuzzled on the electric lines. She heard his emotions in the silence, and they held her close.

"Are you going to tell him?" Miroku quietly asked. Sango closed her eyes.

"I'll talk to him."

There was a soft chuckle on the other end. "You avoided the question, but I guess that's okay."

Sango tiredly smiled. "Thank you."

"Sango... we'll have to tell Taisho."

Her eyes, previously examining the bikes stationed next to the neighbor's fence, fell on the dusty, cracked from the cold asphalt. Her heart tightened, unable to bear the thought.

"I know." It was impossible to lie to Taisho.

"Sango... it will be alright."

Sango was silent for a moment, then her grip relaxed and she heavily sighed.

"Miroku, thank you for calling me. I'll be going now."

She closed the phone and mechanically dropped it into the bag. Tugging the suitcase by the handle, the young woman quickly gathered her face into a weary, but happy smile and slid open the door.

"Kohaku? I'm home!"

The boy was playing with Kirara on the front porch. At the sound of the creaking door, he glanced upwards and quickly scrambled off.

"You're back!"

For a moment, a strained, desperate expression rippled across his face, too fast for Sango to catch. Before she could react, the boy ran across the entire courtyard and tightly hugged her. Sango hugged him by the shoulders, painfully thinking whether this was an act of love or politeness.

"I'm glad you're back, Sango."

"I thought it would be better if you had some soup," I cheerfully say, pushing the bowl towards Sango. In her bathrobe and slippers, she looks very tired. Biting my lip, I stand up and give a lop-sided grin.

"Hold on, I'll get you the chopsticks."

The trip to the kitchen is short, and I'm back behind the table. I hand the young woman - sister - the chopsticks and feel a strong pang of guilt when she smiles.

"Thank you." She thoughtfully chews on some noodles. "Did you make this?"

"Mmmm. It took a couple of tries, but I got it."

Her eyes dart at me.

"You mean, you actually cooked it and not placed some canned food into a microwave?"

At first, I am unsure how to answer, then blush and stare at the table.

"That's... that's a secret."

I blush even more when I hear her softly laughing. Still chuckling, Sango takes another bite, and she looks more relaxed.

"Well, it's still good," she mischievously remarks. I nod.

"I'm glad you like it."

I think I said something wrong because her eyes slightly sadden at my words, and I hurry to distract her. Unfortunately, the first thing that came into my mind was the superintendent.

"By the way, Taisho-san came over today," I blurt out before I could stop myself. Sango stills, and the noodles softly drop from the stick back into the soup.

"Sorry, that was the wrong thing to say when you just came back from work," I keep my eyes fixed in the hands on the lap as I give an uncertain smile. When I quickly glance at her, her face is locked in a mask and, not wanting to hurt her, I form a hasty, wavering smile.

"It's good news though."

Her brows knit together. "What?"

"Yeah." I strengthen my smile. I can't worry her. "She said that the charges against me have been dropped."

Sango lifts her head up, and the tension leaves my neck and shoulders when I see the relief in her eyes.

"That's... that's wonderful," she gently says, smiling. I sigh, happy that I could comfort her. The feeling does not feel nostalgic, but it is nice anyway. I stand up and quickly nod to her.

"I'll go and prepare your futon."

"Wait, Kohaku!" I look at Sango in surprise as she grabs me by the sleeve. For some reason, her face is tense.

"Sango?" I ask in confusion. Her forehead creases.

"You... you don't want to ask me about my trip?"

I blink and then shake my head, laughing. It's really easy to laugh for some reason.

"Of course not. You're tired, right?"

She stares at me. Outwardly, her face relaxes but the tension is still gathered in the corners of her eyes. I feel laughter dying inside of me, switching to worry, but she lets go of my sleeve.

"Sorry," she apologetically smiles. "I am tired."

"Right." I smile - unsure - as well and turn around. "I'll go get the futon then."

I eagerly slap the futon, enjoying how it lowers under my arms. Moving on to the pillow, I tug its corners to get rid of the wrinkles. It's almost like I'm tugging away my jitteriness. However, I feel hopeful - the dinner went well, much better than dinners in the last three weeks and... it was nice having someone to talk to. I didn't notice how these last few days I was... lonely.

"Sango!" I rise to my feet and run out of the room. She's in the bathroom, and I lean with one arm on the doorframe. Somehow, I feel like this gesture would add amiability, an illusion that I'm familiar with the house.

"Sango, I've got the futon ready!"

The water runs down her hands, but she's not moving them. I see a reflection of her eyes, and they seem to be looking nowhere. Suddenly feeling awkward and tense, I slowly lower my arm and straighten up.

"Is something wrong?" I ask in uncertainty. One of her fingers twitches, then her palms gradually begin to rub the soap away.

"No." Sango shakes her head. She's looking down. "Nothing."

Feeling worried, I walk into the bathroom and fold my hands on the sink.

"But I can tell that something's wrong." Despite not knowing her, it feels wrong seeing her upset. I tilt my head, trying to guess the reason. "Did something happen during your trip?"

Sango silently turns off the faucet and wipes her hand with the towel. All this time, she's still looking into the distance.

"Kohaku?" She lowers the towel and looks at me. I unnoticeably shiver; our eyes are the same.

"What else did Taisho tell you?"

Oh.

"You're worried about that?" My relaxed smile gradually wanes as I see how her forehead creases further. I nervously try to crack my fingers, but they're way too soft to produce a sound.

"She asked about my health."

Eyes not leaving my face, Sango slowly sits down on the edge of the bathtub. An unreadable expression blinked on her features.

"And... what did you tell her?"

"That I'm fine." An uncomfortable silence fills the ceramic room. My fingers as if turned to clay.

"Should I have... should I have said something else?"

Suddenly I'm overwhelmed with dread Wide-eyes, I stare at my sister.

"Sango," my voice is shaking, "did I say something wrong?"

"Are you... really fine?" Her gaze softens, but I don't notice it. "Were you not hiding anything from me these past few weeks?"

My heart is loudly beating in my ears, and I can't move a limb. How did she know? "It's just the concussion," I whisper. "It passed a long time ago."

She lowers her head and a ghost of a smile appears on her lips.

"You were hiding the effects from me so I wouldn't worry?"

The sudden realization that telling her everything would've shown that I trusted her. I'm silent, feeling wrong and heartbroken. Sango drops her gaze on the towel on her lap and mechanically begins folding it.

"It's not the concussion."

"What do you mean?" I'm not really listening, still thinking about my mistake. Her fingers do the last fold, but retossle the towel in frustration. However, she is looking at me.

"Whatever you were feeling was not from the concussion."

I blink. "Then what it's from?"

Sango slightly moves her shoulders. Even I flinch at the curtness and clumsiness of my answer.

"I'm so sorr—"

"Those were shard side effects."

I trail off, gazing at her in confusion. Sango sighs, and her expression becomes agonized.

"You were never supposed to know," she quietly says. She winces and rubs her arm, as if trying to warm it from a cold shiver. I'm rooted to the floor, suddenly unable to think.

"We also didn't know before Inuyasha and Kikyo were transferred here."

"About the shards?" I blankly say.

"Yes." Sango crosses her legs and presses them together with painful strength. "They're an artificially-made parasite that's meant to boost the immunity of their hosts."

Sango tiredly places the towel on the sink, and for a moment, her fingers linger on the countertop.

"The Security Bureau was developing them for internal safety." Her fingers curl. "An accident happened a couple of years ago, and many of the shards leaked." Her voice shakes, and I vaguely understand that it's from hatred. All her words echo as if in a well.

"The culprit you were raiding... he was holding a shard. While you were unconscious, we believe..." She abruptly stops, unable to make out the words. "they believe..."

"No!"

I'm faintly aware that I'm shaking my head, and that my hands are clenched into fists.

"That's not true... that's ridiculous, Sango!"

Her face cracks, and fear finally floods me like a wave. Sango suddenly moves, and I feel how her arms wrap me by the shoulders, pulling me close.

"That man who picked you up gave us your X-rays," she gently whispers into my ear. I stare at the built-in lights on the ceiling, at the shadows it was casting around its form. The man who picked me up... Naraku-san...

"They showed the shard in your neck."

My neck... it instantly itches, and my arm automatically flings upwards. It collides with Sango's arm and awkwardly falls back down.

"Can we remove it?"

I cannot hear myself, but I feel how Sango hugs me tighter.

"No." Something is dropping. Down, down, down. "Not without killing the host."

Killing the host.

"Killing... me?" My voice is quiet and squeaky. Sango presses me close, and my nose scrunches into her shoulder.

"I won't let them touch you, Kohaku."

I squeeze my eyes shut and dig my fingers into her arm, and I am ripped apart from the inside.

A/N: Hiiiiiii! I'm back! (not as grandiosely as the terminator, but whatever ;)))

The entire May was exceptionally busy and important for me to focus on, which is why I had to disappear. However, everything should be back to normal now; I'll try to do weekly updates, at the longest every-other-weekly, because I've caught up with my pre-written chapters.

Anyway, logistics aside, it's good to be back with you folks! We're finally meeting (fully) the fulcrum of the Naraku-Kikyo conflict, and, ngl, I'm pretty excited! Let me know your thoughts on this chap and, as always, thanks for reading!