~insert gif of Mushu from Mulan~ I liiiiiiiiiiiiveeeee! Sorry about the stupidly long delay. See the author's note at the end for some of my ramblings… or not ;-)
(Note: edited to fix the damn formatting since this hell site hates me)
Quotes
"Keep it up, wise guy. I'm always going to be taller than you once you're lying unconscious on the ground."
–Keikain Ryūji, probably. (Actually, it's from Jim Butcher's Small Favor)
"Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but—I hope—into a better shape."
–Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
Unbridled rage heated Rikuo's blood and youki to boiling, his Fear unfurling and lashing around him.
"Kagome!"
Her eyes were glassy as she staggered toward him and Ryūji, and seeing her knees buckle, Rikuo leapt forward, catching her just in time. Her head lolled back, and she blinked up at him before going completely limp in his arms, her eyes remaining open yet sightless. What the hell? He took a second to quickly check her for injuries, spotting the numerous scrapes on her hands, her split lip and—
A snarl ripped from him as his gaze landed on her neck. There, she was bleeding…from a fucking bite. One of those bastards had bitten her? However, it didn't appear to be serious enough to cause her to lose consciousness. Just what the fuck happened here? To her?
Rikuo scooped her up, cradling her precariously against his chest in his left arm, his sword in his right hand. His gaze locked on the men who had done this to her, and he felt blood lust spike within him.
One of them thrust his shoulders back arrogantly. "Dude, the fuck. You can't just poach her like that."
"Yeah, hand her over and nobody gets hurt," the other said.
"Nobody gets hurt?" Rikuo's grip on Nenekirimaru tightened. He didn't usually derive pleasure from killing, but tonight, he was going to enjoy it. A lot. A pity I can't take my time…
But before he could take another step, though, Ryūji flung his arm out, blocking Rikuo's path. "Wait!"
His pulse a loud pounding in his ears, Rikuo bared his teeth at the onmyoji. "What?"
"They're human."
He reined in his fury enough to check. Damnit. He's right. Rikuo wrestled with the overwhelming urge to kill them regardless, to eviscerate the men before him and to hell with the consequences. The assholes are getting off easy—letting them live is a kindness they do not deserve.
Although sorely tempted, he refused to knowingly kill a human ever again. Instead, he moved swiftly and struck first one man, then the other, in the head with the hilt of his sword. They both crumpled instantly.
"Shit, Rikuo." Disapproval rang in Ryūji's voice. "You can't just knock people out like that—you'll give them brain damage, or worse."
"Do you really think I give a damn about their well-being?" he growled, sheathing his sword and repositioning Kagome into a more secure hold.
"Maybe not, but she will."
Rikuo wanted to care, really, but he couldn't find it within him to feel a shred of remorse. "Not exactly a priority. I'm entrusting this to you—I need to get her to Zen."
"Fine." Then his gray eyes flicked to Kagome, and Rikuo saw the barely concealed worry in them. "Take care of her. I'll head your way once I've dealt with this."
Confident Ryūji was more than capable of handling it, Rikuo bolted for the clan house, using his Fear to weave through the streets unseen.
"Sandaime!" Kurōmaru called out as he descended to fly alongside Rikuo. "What happened?"
"No time to explain. Right now, I need Zen's help—tell him Kagome's hurt and I'm on my way. I'll take her straight to my room. Also, is Natsumi home?"
He shook his head. "No, I believe Torii-san is on campus and Kurotabō is with her…"
Shit. Her night class, of course. "Kagome's gonna need dry clothes. Ask Mom or Tsurara to either bring some to my room or give them to Zen."
Kurōmaru gave a sharp nod in response. "Hai, Rikuo-sama." With a rustle of feathers, Kurōmaru was gone, and Rikuo single-mindedly raced toward help for Kagome.
The rain finally starting to slow down, it took not more than five or six minutes to arrive, but the unresponsive woman in his arms had him utterly terrified. Thank fuck she was still breathing.
His appearance caused a stir among the yokai gathered along the house's engawa and in the courtyard, and clan members crowded around him.
Too close! He bit back the low growl rising in his throat at their proximity to Kagome, fierce protectiveness for her mingling with his anger at those who had attacked her. He forced the latter away—anger would serve no purpose; he needed composure and calm to be of any use to Kagome right now.
Rikuo ignored the rapid-fire questions from his clan as he tried to make his way quickly toward his room through the inquisitive yokai. He heard Tsurara start to speak up, presumably to tell them to give him space, when a booming voice rose above the clamor.
"Everybody, move! Get the hell out of Rikuo-sama's way—questions can wait!"
The noise died down immediately, and everyone backed away, chagrined looks on their faces. Rikuo glanced to his right and met Aotabō's gaze, flashing a grateful smile. Aotabō grinned back and nodded.
He threw his door open with a loud thwack, further relieved upon seeing Zen and his mother awaiting him, towels and a dry yukata in her arms.
Zen hurried over, eyes wide with concern. "What the fu—uh…" His gaze slid to Rikuo's mom. "Warui na, Wakana-sama. What happened?"
"Honestly, I'm not completely sure," Rikuo said, as he set Kagome down, propping her limp body against him and helping his mom to wrap one of the large towels around Kagome, clothes and all. Then, Wakana used another to gently wring out her wet hair. He started to continue his explanation to Zen, when his mom interrupted.
"Rikuo, sweetheart… Um…" She smiled, as if trying to soften her words. "Perhaps you should step out? You know, for her privacy while I get her changed and Zen examines her?"
"No, I'm not leaving." Without even thinking, he added, "I've already seen her naked; it's fine." Only when his mother's eyes widened and her mouth dropped into a stunned O did he realize what he'd just said and to whom he had said it.
He grimaced, and as he felt the beginnings of a blush creep into his face, Zen snorted. "About damn time. Ah, no offense, Wakana-sama, but—"
The momentary shock having worn off, Wakana gave Zen a bright smile, patting him on the arm. "No offense taken. I tend to agree with you."
"Ehhhh? Mom!"
She ignored Rikuo's protest. "Let's get her out of those soaked clothes, shall we? And you can tell us what happened."
It shouldn't have come as a surprise—she was a mother, after all, and a yokai yakuza's widow—but nevertheless Rikuo was impressed at how his mother listened to the story calmly while stripping off Kagome's wet clothing with smooth efficiency.
He'd just finished when he saw his mom frown as she peeled Kagome's damp jeans off her legs. "Zen-san, there's a small red mark on her thigh." She pointed. "Here."
"Hang on, Wakana-sama," Zen said, and removed the gauze he had been holding firmly to Kagome's neck wound to staunch the bleeding. Apparently satisfied with slowed blood flow, he then leaned over, looking closely at the spot she indicated, pressing lightly. "Hmm… A little swollen, no way to know if it's painful or not until she wakes up…" he mumbled, more to himself than Wakana or Rikuo.
"What's it from?" Rikuo asked.
Zen glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "Dunno. Could be nothing more than a bug bite or, taking into account her present condition, an injection site." He shrugged and stood back up, waiting while they got Kagome dry and into the yukata. Then, he directed Rikuo to lay her on the futon, and Wakana left, closing the door behind her softly.
As Zen examined Kagome, Rikuo paced restlessly around the room, growing increasingly more concerned, his stomach jumping uneasily each time Zen hummed or clicked his tongue.
Finally, when he could take it no more, a sharp, "Well?" burst out of him.
Zen snapped his fingers, and his tsukumogami scurried over. As he dabbed ointment on her wounds and bandaged her neck, he said, "Well, obviously, this bite is nasty, but I've got it cleaned and applied a salve that'll prevent infection and help with pain. Though, when she comes to, we'll need to find out if she's up to date on her tetanus. Her hands are a lil scraped up, and her right wrist might be lightly sprained—"
To hell with a sprained wrist. Rikuo paused midway through another lap around his room. "Yeah, great, but Zen…she's fucking unconscious. Why?"
His sworn brother let out a sigh and answered patiently, "She's been drugged. Hard to say for certain with what or how, but unless she willingly drank something they gave her or they poured it down her throat, I'd guess injection, especially considering the mark on her leg."
"Shit." He resumed his pacing. "Is she going to be all right?"
Zen nodded. "Her blood pressure and heart rate are a little elevated but not enough to be concerned, and her breathing is normal. I'm sure she'll be fine, but for now, I want to keep an eye on her."
"Keep an eye on her? Can't you give her something to counteract it?"
"Without knowing what they gave her? Hell no."
"But—"
"Rikuo, even if I did know, not everything in the world has an 'antidote,'" Zen said exasperatedly. "Do me a favor, will ya? Shut the fuck up."
He ground his teeth, but quieted. Zen could say she was fine all he wanted, but Rikuo wouldn't feel better until she woke up and he could see those beautiful blue eyes and hear her sweet voice. Fuck Ryūji. Human or not, I should've killed those bastards who did this to her… His hands curled into fists as he stalked angrily in another loop around his room.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Zen snapped suddenly, and Rikuo came to a screeching halt. "Will you sit down? You're making me nuts."
He glared at Zen, but did as he was told, coming to kneel by Kagome's side. Her hair was still damp and in disarray, and he reached down to brush a few strands of it away from her face. C'mon, blue eyes. Wake up, will ya? He hated this, the way seeing her like this twisted and knotted his insides, but more than that, he hated the helplessness, his inability to do something, anything, to immediately fix it. He took one of her chilled hands in both of his, trying to will her to warm up faster. To wake up faster. How would he live with himself if she died? No, don't even go there. She'll be okay. Zen said she'd be fine. She has to be…
"Rikuo!"
"Eh?" Rikuo glanced over at Zen, who rolled his eyes.
"…Ttaku…did you hear anything I just said?"
"Uh…" He offered a sheepish smile. "No. Sorry, Zen, what did you say?"
"Dude, chill. She's going to be all right," Zen said, annoyance creeping into his tone even as he reassured his friend.
Rikuo wondered if he was being that transparent, or if it was simply that Zen had always been able to read him easily. Likely a combination of the two.
Speaking low, Zen asked, "Anyway, what I said was, do you think she was the target, or was it random?"
"Not sure." Rikuo was silent for several moments. "Hopefully it won't take Ryūji much longer to get here and he can tell us more." A look at his watch. "How long do you think it'll take?" Rikuo asked, referring to Kagome, not Ryūji.
Zen lifted his gaze toward the ceiling, as if praying for patience, and folded his arms over his chest. "I assure you, if I knew, I'd tell you…if for no other reason than to make you quit asking."
"Oh, excuse the hell out of me for being worried…"
Rikuo let one of the hands holding Kagome's drop to his lap, drumming his fingers against the side of his leg. He hoped she could tell them what happened, or that Ryūji had gotten some valuable information—or both. Then, he was going to take every precaution to prevent something like this from occurring ever again.
She needs protection when I'm not around… Tsurara maybe? Kubinashi? Hmm, or Ao… When did she say her lease was up? She should move in with me. Would she even want to? Hell, I don't know…
Zen cleared his throat, pulling Rikuo out of his spiraling thoughts. "Hmm?"
"You gonna clue me into why you're wound so damn tight? Seriously, Rikuo, breathe."
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his friend to shut the fuck up, that he didn't understand, when it dawned on him that Zen might not understand. After all, he hadn't really clarified the nature of his and Kagome's relationship.
"I'm in love with her," Rikuo said softly, his gaze leaving Kagome only briefly to gauge his friend's reaction.
To his surprise, Zen snorted and rolled his eyes. "No shit. Please, please, don't tell me you're just now realizing this."
"Oi!" Rikuo's indignation warred with his embarrassment. What kind of response was that? How long had Zen known? And just how obvious had he been? Heat inched its way up his neck into his face. "How long have—"
"The trip to Tōno. And no, before you get all bent out of shape, I haven't said anything to anyone, though"—Zen grinned wickedly—"if you were trying to be subtle, you've failed miserably."
Rikuo scrubbed a hand down his face, mumbling, "I hate you…"
Zen laughed, then wheezed, and when Rikuo glanced up, he saw Zen was doubled over, still laughing. As was expected, the laughs shifted into coughs shortly thereafter, but even when the coughing fit was over, Zen was still smirking.
"You fucking love me, and you know it," Zen said. "Not the same way you love lil miss miko there, but you love me all the same."
He's right, the asshole. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You done harassing me? Damnit, Zen, I'm trying to tell you something serious!"
Zen shrugged. "Okay, you love her. So what?"
The "so what" is she's the legendary shikon miko, that's what. Rikuo opened his mouth to say just that but stopped. It wasn't his story to tell. "It's…complicated. We can talk about it later when she's awake. I don't want to do it without her."
Zen gave him an odd look and then shrugged again. "Okay… Well, speaking of serious and complicated…"
Rikuo's stomach clenched, and prickles of panic over Zen's health rushed through him. "Is something wrong? Are you okay? I know your coughing spells have gotten worse lately…"
"I'm fine. Well…all right, I'm not 'fine,' but I'm not dead yet," Zen said defensively. "But…" He paused, letting out a long sigh. "I've decided to step down from the head of the Yakushi sect."
"What?" The question came out in a yelp, and he swallowed thickly before adding, "Why?"
Zen waved at him to hush. "I already told you, I'm not a fucking corpse or bed-ridden invalid just yet, okay? So chill. But the reality is, my health isn't getting any better, and it would be beneficial to my brother to have some transition time while I'm still alive if he needs any guidance as the new head."
Zen's plan was logical, and in any other circumstance, Rikuo might have understood. However, presently, he wasn't exactly in the most rational frame of mind. He didn't want this, didn't want to be reminded of how scared he was of losing Zen. Especially not while he was preoccupied with his concern for Kagome. Sure, in theory it was possible to worry about them both simultaneously, but his nerves were currently too frayed to manage that.
Zen continued to talk, but his words were white noise to Rikuo as his thoughts ran in dizzying circles. If he wants to step down, have his brother take over, then that means… No. No! He can't… He's not… Stop. He's just having a bad day, or he's overreacting. He's fine. His throat constricted, and his heart rate spiked.
The looming specter of Zen's mortality was difficult to handle on a normal day, but today? Too damned much. Rikuo's denial and fear rapidly morphed into anger, and he dropped Kagome's hand to slice his arm through the air, effectively cutting Zen off.
"Godsdamnit, Zen! Are you fucking kidding me? You're bringing this up now, of all times? Actually, you know what? No."
Zen stopped midsentence, momentarily taken aback. "No? No, I'm not dying? No, you won't accept my brother taking my place? No to what, Rikuo?"
"To all of it!" Rikuo threw his arms up in frustration. "But mostly, no, as in, I can't fucking do this right now." He stabbed a finger toward Kagome. "Kagome was attacked, bitten, and drugged with who-the-fuck-knows-what, in Ukiyoe Town, my territory, and I am fucking terrified about whether or not she's going to be okay, no matter how many times you assure me she will be; I haven't heard from Ryūji yet, which doesn't bode well; and your stupid ass thinks now is an appropriate time to discuss having your brother take over as clan head because oh, hey, you're going to fucking die? A subject you know damned well I hate thinking about? I just… I can't, okay?"
Zen's eyes had gone wide during Rikuo's tirade, and once it was over, Zen started laughing quietly, shaking his head. A reaction that only fanned the flames of Rikuo's ire.
"Are you laughing? Seriously? Don't fuck with me, Zen. I am not in the mood."
"Sorry, sorry, it's just—" He paused to cough into his sleeve, grimacing briefly at his arm when he stopped. The flecks of blood that dotted his kimono did not go unnoticed by Rikuo.
Nope, not going there. Can't think about it. Can't cope with it and everything else right now. He forced himself to ignore the very concrete evidence of Zen's worsening health to ask, "You were saying?"
"Tch. I was going to say you've more in common with Itaku than either of you might think."
"The hell does that mean? And what does Itaku have to do with any of this?"
Zen shot Rikuo a curious look and then shook his head yet again. "Gods, you're oblivious sometimes." At Rikuo's scowl, he sighed. "All right, I'm sorry. It is shitty timing on my part; I wasn't thinking. But we do need to have this conversation, sooner rather than later, so Itaku will shut the fuck up about it. I'm sick of him nagging me like an old lady."
Rikuo's eyes widened. Itaku? Nagging? Like an old lady?! "Uh…we talking about the same Itaku?"
"Unless you know some other kamaitachi leader of the Tōno yokai…" Zen shrugged. "Uh, yeah. Anyway—"
The sound of a text notification interrupted whatever he'd planned on saying next, and Rikuo pulled out his cell phone, feeling a modicum of relief as he read the short message. "Finally. Ryūji's on his way."
When Rikuo had dashed off with Kagome, Ryūji eyed the unconscious guys on the pavement in front of him. An unused syringe had slid out of one of their pockets during the scuffle with Rikuo, and Ryūji clenched his jaw in disgust. You sick sons of bitches… He almost regretted not letting Rikuo kill them. Truthfully, he couldn't have cared less about their well-being. He simply wanted them alive and able to answer questions.
Grumbling to himself about the stupid fucking rain, he slung his wet hair out of his eyes and pulled several zip ties out of the inner pocket of his cloak—incredibly useful things, zip ties. Never know when they might come in handy. One of the young men was wearing a light windbreaker, and as he pushed the sleeves up slightly to bind his hands, he spied the edges of a tattoo peeking out. Could it possibly…?
He shoved the jacket up his arm and out of the way, eyes narrowing as the entire tattoo was revealed. It wasn't particularly large, certainly not a full sleeve. Not that Ryūji had considered either of the two idiots to be yakuza for one minute. But this was unexpected…
Hold up, Ryūji. Once is a fluke, twice is a coincidence.
He checked the inner wrists of the other man as he zip-tied his hands behind his back. No dice. Then, on impulse, he yanked the collar of the man's shirt down. Bingo.
There, beneath his right collarbone, was an identical tattoo. A black-and-red bleeding crescent moon. Just like his buddy here, and just like the one the dead kid from Haruka's file had had.
Three times is a pattern.
And with so little to go on thus far, this lead made Ryūji as close as he got to giddy, meager clue as it was. Three wannabe vampires who were actually human bearing identical tattoos. He made a mental note to get in touch with the Tokyo PD's organized crime division while he waited for the guys to come around. And…loathe as he was to admit it, that hulking Nura Clan member Aotabō might have some helpful insight.
Thankfully, it didn't take too long before they were groaning and blinking, looking around in a daze. "Oh, good, you're alive."
One of them sneered at him. "We're not alive—we're undead, asshole."
Were they for real? Ryūji barked a laugh. "Of course, my mistake. So which one of you is Louis and which is Lestat?"
"Huh?" the second guy said. A rocket scientist, that one.
"Hmm, guess that's a no, then. Edward and Jacob? Right, sorry, Jacob wasn't a vampire. Well, no matter. I don't actually care."
"What are you going on about, you short little prick? Where's our prey?"
"Yeah, what'd you do with her?"
"Your prey? Please…" Ryūji rolled his eyes and hooked a thumb toward the one with a massively swollen nose. "You mean the unarmed girl who broke your face? Oh yeah, you're a real apex predator."
"Fuck you!" he retorted—or rather he tried, but it came out more like, "Fug oo!"
"Besides," Ryūji said, "you morons couldn't take down a day-old kitten on your own. Which I'm assuming is why you drugged her?" He toed the used syringe on the ground and gestured to the unused one next to them.
The first guy flushed an angry scarlet. "You don't know shit, okay? We're only newly turned, okay? But once we drink enough, we'll get stronger."
"Yes, yes, of course you will… So, who 'turned' you?"
"Our—"
"Keikain-san, I presume?" a woman's voice interrupted.
He pivoted to see a uniformed officer with pale lavender, almost white, hair standing at the entrance of the alleyway, a flashlight in one hand and her handgun in the other. He waved at the two assailants. "Sit. Stay. Good boys."
Then, he lifted his hands momentarily to show he wasn't armed—not in the traditional sense, he thought wryly—and said, "That's me. And you…are not human."
Lowering her gun and holstering it, she walked toward him, boots splashing in the puddles forming from the pouring rain. Up close, he could see her coppery-orange eyes with snakelike pupils, reinforcing what he'd already assumed from her youki.
"Not fully, no. None of the beat cops in Ukiyoe Town are. I would've expected you to know this," she replied, one pale eyebrow arching.
Ryūji ground his teeth. Damn that yokai son of a… "No, your boss neglected to mention that little detail. Why are you here?"
She blinked once. Twice. "Because every yokai in a ten- to twenty-block radius felt that reiki? And because it's my job?"
Fuck, that probably meant she'd reported the incident, which meant he'd lost his opportunity to ask the vamp wannabes questions. Fucking pain-in-the-ass yokai!
As if reading his mind, she said, "I haven't called it in yet. I'll have to secure the scene and do so pretty soon, but…figured I'd see if there's anything the human side of TPD doesn't need to be aware of."
A slow smile spread across his face. "Are you suggesting we tamper with a crime scene, Officer…?"
"Shirohebi Rinko. And…" She pitched her voice low. "If it's to protect the Nuragumi, then, yes, that is exactly what I'm suggesting. Why do you think Ukiyoe cops are yokai or hanyō?"
He felt a flash of irritation, at Rikuo for not telling him, as well as this girl for looking at him like he was a simpleton. He motioned toward one of the surveillance cameras he could see. "And those aren't going to present a problem?"
To his surprise, she shook her head. "Only the one at the entrance of the alley works. Actually, most of the security cameras in Ukiyoe Town don't, you know, for privacy's sake and all."
Bizarre… Ryūji really wanted to ask just how they managed in the event security footage did catch something that could expose the myriad yokai there to the general populace. However, time was of the essence if he was going to accomplish anything before the other police officers arrived. He gave her a quick rundown of what happened, finishing with, "And I was about to ask these two dumbasses a couple questions when you showed up."
Rinko nodded slowly. "From an evidence standpoint, the rain works to our advantage, and if you take the used syringe with you, I can 'take your statement' and we'll just say that the woman they assaulted ran off before you could stop her and before I showed up. Rikuo-sama chased after her, but couldn't catch up with her. Got it?" He nodded, and she continued. "Okay, here's the deal—I'd put them in handcuffs, but honestly, I think the zip ties are good enough." Her eyes went to his split lip, and they lit up. "That from these two…or Sandaime?" Before he could answer, she pulled out her cell phone and snapped a couple pictures.
"Tch. Don't act like you don't know."
"Riiiight… Well, despite a hit to the face, presumably by one of the perps here"—she coughed lightly, and he scowled at her—"good work on overpowering them, Keikain-san, while your buddy ran after that 'mysterious' girl. I'll go ahead and assume you don't want to press charges, though. Anyhoo…I'm going to call this in, snag some police tape, and start cordoning off the area. It'd be peachy, onmyoji-san, if you'd skedaddle before I got back." She winked at him, one corner of her mouth lifting in a smile.
Plausible deniability. She's clever…for a yokai. "You might want to ask for Detectives Takeda and Itō," Ryūji said. "They're the ones—"
"Working the so-called vampire case, yeah, I know. The Sanba Garasu has kept all the Ukiyoe officers apprised of the situation. We'd like to close the case as much as you." With that, she gave a quick wave, speaking into her radio as she walked off.
He turned his attention back to the two idiots he had tied up. "All right, you two. Couldn't help but notice earlier those fancy matching tattoos you've got. Any particular significance, hmm?"
The one with the tattoo on his wrist, who Ryūji had mentally dubbed Idiot #1, gave an overly exaggerated shrug. "You wanna know, figure it out."
His broken-nosed partner in crime, logically christened Idiot #2, scoffed. "Yeah, man, like we'd just tell you what our gang's tattoo symbolizes."
Idiot #1 rammed his elbow into his friend's side. "Shut up, you dumbass!"
A gang, hmm? So my hunch about organized crime was right… Though, he mused, no self-respecting yakuza he'd ever encountered, yokai or otherwise, would be as pathetic as these punks. "Don't suppose you had a comrade who died recently? Guy named Kataya Heizō?"
He didn't miss the furtive glances they exchanged before acting apathetic and shaking their heads.
"Of course not. Well, as much fun as this is, I'm about out of time and patience. Clearly you asshats aren't in charge, so who is?"
"Can't say."
"Yeah, our secret."
Ryūji narrowed his eyes, focusing on Idiot #1. "Can't, or won't?"
The guy sneered in response, but a hint of uncertainty crept into his tone. "Both."
Ryūji crossed his arms. "Okay…then, tell me this. Why do you follow them? Why'd they 'turn' you?"
"We don't have to tell you shit. You're not a cop."
"Tch. So you'd tell me if I were?"
"No…" one admitted, while the other stayed silent.
Damnit, this was going nowhere fast. He reached inside his cloak and drew out a bamboo bottle, yanking the stopper. The wolflike shikigami flowed out and perched on his shoulder.
Their eyes went wide with fear, and he snickered.
"What's wrong, boys? Never seen a shikigami before? Oh, sorry, did I forget to mention I'm an onmyoji? So I'm well aware that you two are anything but vampires."
"We are too vampires, so you must suck as an onmyoji," Idiot #2 shot back.
Ryūji ignored the gibe, gesturing to his shikigami. "Been a while since this guy ate, and he's pretty hungry… So, how about you tell me about this boss of yours and I won't let Garō here eat you?"
Total bullshit, of course, but they didn't know that.
Both paled, and Idiot #1 swallowed hard. The other maintained a brave front, glaring at Ryūji defiantly.
"No way. We're loyal to her."
The nervous one spoke in a hushed voice, "Dude, what if he's serious? That thing is freaky as fuck."
"We can't."
Interesting… Dissent among the ranks? And her?
He started to press the nervous one for more info when he sensed Rinko heading back his way. He swore under his breath, and carefully pocketing the used syringe, he returned his shikigami to its bottle before leaving. He hadn't gotten a ton of usable information out of them, but hopefully those two detective dipshits could. Or allow him more time with them later. One thing was for certain, though—Ryūji knew a con when he saw one. And someone, whoever their leader was, had conned these idiots into believing they were vampires…and somehow compelled them not to speak the truth. But who? And how? More unanswered questions, which irritated the hell out of him.
As he strode toward the Nura clan house, he texted Rikuo, letting him know he was on his way. Ryūji received no reply, not that he expected one, but he did wonder if Kagome was okay. Contrary to what people might believe, I'm not a complete bastard.
Ryūji was roughly half a block from the Nuragumi main house when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the display. Detective Takeda.
He didn't exactly want to talk to him, but considering the circumstances, he answered anyway. "Yeah, what?"
"Uh…Keikain-san? We… We've got a problem…"
Ryūji exhaled harshly. "So? It affects me, how?"
"The two suspects you apprehended… Uh…" the detective said hesitantly. "Well…you see, an officer had put them in the back of a police car to take to the station and we're not really sure how, but—"
As the man skated around whatever the issue was, the miniscule remaining patience Ryūji had evaporated. "Just get to the point already, damnit!"
The detective gulped. "Uh, well…they're dead."
Kagome woke in darkness, with a painful drumming in her head and neck pounding along to the rhythm of her heartbeat.
Holy hell, I feel weird… Where am I?
The sound of voices reached her ears, and as she attempted to sit up, she realized with no small amount of panic that she couldn't move. Her eyes popped open.
Tentacles.
Naraku's tentacles were binding her, holding her immobile.
Beyond where she lay, she could see two figures. One noticed she was awake and spoke. "Kagome? Ah, so nice of you to wake up."
This wasn't possible. Naraku was dead. Kagura was dead.
A dream, it had to be a dream.
She hasn't realized she'd spoken part of her thoughts aloud until Naraku chuckled.
"I assure you, I am very much alive."
She shook her head. "No…" He couldn't be…
But unlike other nightmares she'd had, the tentacles felt real. The injuries to her body felt real.
How?
"Now then…" His expression darkened, incongruent with the playful lilt of his voice. He reached a tentacle toward her, stroking it down her cheek. "I believe, little miko, that you have something that belongs to me…"
Reason fled, instinct taking its place. She'd spent too many years protecting the jewel, too many years guarding against this exact situation to just lie there passively and accept defeat.
"No!"
Her reiki surged within her, crackling and popping along her skin like lightning, the tentacles holding her beginning to char and smoke and turn to ash.
She struggled into an upright position, striking at new tentacles that launched toward her, her powers channeled into her hands, disintegrating them upon impact.
"Get away from me!"
She scooted back until she hit a wall, and then she flung a hand forward, raising a shield to buy herself some time.
Naraku and Kagura's eyes widened, and then her vision blurred.
A spike of pain lanced through her temple, the ache in her neck resuming, and the room spun. The faces of her enemies stretched and morphed, and she blinked rapidly, trying to get her sight to clear. Everything was fuzzy, like seeing through a fog.
Had she been right? Was it just a dream?
Then the fog dissipated, and her heart shattered. She was still in an unfamiliar room, but now, she could see it hadn't been Naraku and Kagura at all. Rikuo and one of his clan members lay motionless on the floor. The sickly sweet scent of scorching meat wafted throughout the room, and there were burns—burns she had caused—covering their bodies.
"What? No!"
She tried to wrestle her reiki under control, but years of denying her powers meant said control was not what it should have been, and they wouldn't be tamed, no matter how hard she tried. And as her anxiety spiked, so did her reiki, a blast that likely went well beyond the radius of the room. Unable to do anything, other than pray she hadn't actually killed anyone, Kagome crumpled, drawing her knees up under her chin, sobbing silently, and hating herself for her helplessness.
Rikuo's phone buzzed again. Ryūji. He started to read the text, but then Kagome stirred, and his phone slid from his hand, message forgotten, as euphoric relief washed over him. "Kagome?" Please be awake!
Her movements were jerky, limbs flailing as she partially freed herself from the duvet. Sitting up, she stared blankly around the room.
But when Kagome's gaze fell on Rikuo and Zen, she scrambled backward on the futon. Her eyes were strangely unfocused, as if she weren't truly seeing them.
"No!"
The hell? "Uh…Kagome? It's me…Rikuo?"
He glanced at Zen, who shrugged.
"Emergence reaction, maybe. Not very common, but it can happen."
Zen's nonchalance grated on his already frayed nerves. "Well, can't you do something?"
"Oh, sure. Because I routinely carry benzodiazepines around with me." Zen glared at him, but in a less sarcastic tone, he added, "Honestly, I can go mix something up, but she'll probably snap out of it before I'm finished."
Kagome continued to stare at them apprehensively as she fumbled further with the blankets, trying to fully untangle herself. Her coordination seemed somewhat impaired, so Rikuo reached toward her, intending to help her or comfort her, or both.
"Easy, blue eyes. You're—"
He never got to finish his explanation.
"Get away from me!" she screamed and slapped his hand away, her hand briefly connecting with the bare flesh of his forearm where the sleeve of his kimono had slid back. At the same time, her reiki flared violently.
His breath left his lungs in a whoosh. This wasn't a surprised jolt of electricity or playful spark. No, this was searing agony, her touch scalding, and Rikuo gritted his teeth, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth where he'd accidentally bitten the inside of his cheek.
Where Kagome's reiki-charged hand had touched Rikuo's arm, a three-inch-long strip of skin was blistered and blackened. Cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Fuck, did that hurt.
Thank the gods she hadn't actually grabbed hold of him. He couldn't begin to imagine what that would feel like.
The door to his room slung open with a bang, and Tsurara bolted inside. "Rikuo-sama!"
"Tsurara, stay back. It's…fine," Rikuo said, brushing his kimono sleeve down to hide the burn.
Tsurara's gaze swung to Kagome, who now had her back pressed against the wall, one arm shakily raised in front of her and a pale pink shield shimmering around her. "It's clearly anything but fine, Rikuo-sama!" She glanced over to Zen. "Zen-san, what is wrong with her?"
"She could be hallucinating… It's likely an emergence reaction from whatever they drugged her with." Zen spread his hands in a helpless gesture, eyes darkening with concern as they flicked toward Kagome's reiki. "Even if I had something with me…there's no way in hell I could get close enough."
Rikuo nodded and sucked in a breath, letting it hiss out between his teeth. Then, doing his best to keep his voice level, he murmured softly, "It's me, Kagome. You're safe. It's okay… Please. Stop."
She whimpered and then suddenly went limp, her reiki shield winking out of existence. She slid down the wall, curling in on herself into a ball. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but Rikuo could see tears leaking out the sides.
Hang in there, blue eyes. I'm so sorry I can't fix this.
Tsurara took a tentative step closer. "Is she… Is there anything I can do, Rikuo-sama?"
From the open doorway came the sounds of a commotion. Kubinashi's voice, followed by Kejōrō's, could be heard right before they poked their heads in.
"Sandaime, is everything okay?" Kubinashi asked.
The presence of a miko at the Nura main house was enough to have everyone all riled up, but now, with Kagome's powers fluctuating peculiarly and the fact that she was apparently hallucinating… Rikuo took a deep breath. He should go reassure his clan that everything was all right, but he simply wasn't willing to leave Kagome yet. So…
"Tsurara, Kubinashi, I need your help. Kejōrō, you too." Rikuo took a moment to explain the situation before saying, "Go tell them everything's fine… Keep everyone calm, okay?"
When Kubinashi started to object, Kejōrō grabbed both his ponytail and bicep, yanking his head and body out of the room. "You heard Rikuo-sama."
Tsurara hesitated. Rikuo knew she was worried, and likely felt she should stay to protect him, never mind the fact he hadn't needed protecting in a long time. Finally, even though visibly displeased with his order, she nodded, pivoting on her heel, and strode from the room, sliding the door shut behind her.
"Hey… You okay? I did see what happened, you know."
He looked at Zen, who had begun inching forward when Kagome's reiki had diminished. "Yeah… I mean, it hurts like a motherfucker, and burns are… Well…" Rikuo forced back memories of another time he'd dealt with his own charred flesh. His body and his Fear decomposing around him. Was it the reiki burning him or the kusozu? Was he rotting again?
No… No. Do not go there…not now.
Besides, though the reiki burn was certainly not pleasant, this was nothing like back then.
Zen nodded. "Okay, well, can I…"
"No. My arm can wait. I want to be sure she's okay."
Outside the door, Rikuo could hear the crowd of anxious Nuragumi, each attempting to speak over the other, all asking questions about what was going on and if he and Zen were okay.
"Quiet!" Kubinashi's voice rang out, and the myriad clan members grew silent.
Then Tsurara. "Everything is fine—Rikuo-sama is handling it. According to Zen-san, the miko is waking up, but she's having some kind of reaction to whatever those jerks drugged her with. The best thing that we can do to help Rikuo-sama is to stay calm and let them continue to handle it."
Yes, please, gods. Thanks, guys.
Shuffling footsteps seemed to indicate they'd begun to disperse, and he and Zen both caught snippets of conversations as they walked away, their commentary making Zen snicker.
"Is she really a miko? I can't believe he'd bring someone like that here. It's so dangerous!"
"Whaaa? Rikuo-sama has always had dangerous friends—remember the onmyoji girl he was friends with in middle school?"
"Yeah, well, this is different. He wasn't interested in her like that."
"He needs to marry a yokai, so the Fourth heir will be strong! I don't know what he's thinking… A human? And a miko? It's completely unorthodox."
"All three generations have been unorthodox—that's the whole reason we follow them."
"My thoughts exactly…" Zen mused quietly.
"Yeah, yeah, who cares if she's a miko? The Nura clan is strong because our leaders are unconventional! Besides, did you see how gorgeous she is?"
They're not wrong about that, Rikuo thought.
"Hmph. She is pretty… But I'm still not so sure…"
"Rikuo?" Kagome's voice was nearly inaudible. "You're…you're okay?"
Rikuo's attention snapped back to her. "Kagome? Are you…uh…you?" He winced at the stupidity of the question.
"Eh? Am I…me?" She gazed up at him questioningly.
A huge weight lifted off him. Her eyes were no longer clouded and unseeing, and despite her obvious confusion, she was coherent.
Kagome rubbed at her head awkwardly, as if disoriented still, and licked her lips repeatedly. "What…what's going on? Where am I?"
Zen answered for him. "Rikuo brought you back to the clan house so I could treat you. Do you remember what happened?"
She closed her eyes, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she thought. "Not really. I remember leaving the cat sanctuary, a few bits and pieces after, but that's about it… Everything else is fuzzy."
For a moment, she didn't speak, just breathed deeply and carefully. Rikuo mirrored her actions, doing his best to ignore the heat still radiating from the injury on his arm. The stench of burnt flesh filled his nostrils. His body was rotting, rupturing, bloating…
No! He shook his head. It's not real. It's not the kusozu. That's in the past.
"Rikuo," Zen said urgently. "I need to look at your arm."
Kagome's eyes flew open. "Your arm? What happened to your arm?"
"Uh…" How the hell do I answer that? She'd already had a bad enough night as it was.
But before he could reply, her fingers were pushing back his sleeve and grasping his wounded forearm, sending a spear of white-hot agony through him as he tried to pull away. "Fuck!"
Zen didn't mince words. "What happened, miko, is you freaked the fuck out and attacked him."
Rikuo groaned. "Godsdamnit, Zen. She didn't attack me—she smacked my hand away and in doing so her reiki—"
Kagome cut him off, gasping, "I did what?" She scooted closer and peered at his arm in horror, gagging. To give her credit, it did look pretty awful—a charred, blistered stripe in stark contrast to the unblemished skin surrounding it.
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh gods, Rikuo, I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry…"
He didn't even have a chance to respond before he felt her reiki wash over him again. He cringed involuntarily before he realized not only was it not painful, but it was also relieving his pain.
Kagome held her hands above the blackened skin, the same pale pink glow as her shield emanating from them. The energy was pleasantly warm, rather than like liquid fire, and he watched in awe as the wound began to heal.
Zen also stared in mute amazement, too stunned to even so much as cough.
The whole time Kagome babbled her apology as tears streamed down her face, occasionally pressing one hand to her mouth and breathing shallowly. "I did hurt you. Oh gods, I didn't mean to, I swear, I never meant to hurt you. Not you. I'm so sorry. I'll fix it, I promise. Please…please forgive me… I'm so sorry…"
"Hey. Shhh…you're overreacting. I'm fine, okay?" Trying to soothe her, Rikuo reached out with his other arm, cupping her face and running his thumb across her cheekbone. "Oi, c'mon, blue eyes. This is tiny! Like this is the worst thing that's ever happened to me…"
As the burn mended, the majority of it gone quickly, he sensed her reiki tapering out and fading. She frowned, looking frustrated. Then, to his surprise, for a split second, he could have sworn he felt her youki flicker and shift. Almost—but not quite—like Fear. What was that?
"I'm so sorry, Rikuo. I… I can't heal all of it, maybe because you're part yokai?" Her bottom lip quivered as she stared at the red, irritated-looking spot.
Rikuo bit back a laugh. She was upset about this? What remained was barely the size of a fingerprint and not even as uncomfortable as a sunburn. "You kidding me? This is nothing…and that was impressive as hell." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Kagome didn't look convinced, but she released his arm and gave him a shaky smile. Then, she promptly threw up in his lap.
Rikuo sighed.
I really hate Mondays.
Author's note: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I have mixed feelings about it, probably because I've written it and rewritten it So. Many. Fucking. Times. And at this point, I figured, fuck it. I'm done fighting with it. It's not perfect, but I can't keep making myself nuts trying to attain perfect. Besides, people keep reminding me writing fanfic is supposed to be fun? *snicker*