::Author's Note::
I lack ownage of "Inu-Yasha" or any related characters. I am merely using their identities to create a story. They belong to Rumiko Takahashi, of whom I am extremely jealous.
Because it bugs me to not be able to intensify anything, from here on out, let
*text*
represent emphasis.
With nothing more to say, let's move on:
Enjoy.
Fate's Ways
Chapter Four
"Dreams"
By Jann
"This place is a dump," Miroku observed upon entry to the cooler. He reached into the pocket of his blazer and took out a small digital camera. Despite his determination to bed just about every woman he laid eyes on, he was quick-minded and efficient when it came to his cases. It was how he managed to remind Inu-Yasha why he tolerated such a lecher.
Miroku began to step around the room as carefully as possible, snapping pictures all the way. "What did it look like in here before the joint was trashed?"
Because he was right -- it really looked horrible. But Kagome could see that whoever had gone through hadn't destruction on his or her mind. There *was* blood everywhere and the door to Kohaku's cell had come clean off. But the cupboards of sheets was unscathed, the unlocked filing cabinet wasn't touched and the Zackow kid's drawer was the only one open. It was obvious that the intruder had one thing and one thing alone on his mind.
Kohaku.
"These aren't ordinary nappers," Hojou said, reading her mind.
"Why?" Inu-Yasha demanded. He too had begun to pick his way around the room cautiously.
"Well, Agent, look at it this way. Say you were looking to steal . . . oh, an exotic bird to sell on the black market. You could only carry one. Which bird would you take?" Hojou asked.
Inu-Yasha shot Hojou a half-skeptical, half-accusatory look before answering. "I guess . . . the biggest, healthiest, best bird they had. The one that would get me the best price."
"Exactly," Hojou responded with a nod. He stepped to the wall to the left, opposite from the window, perpendicular to Kohaku's and therefore cleanest. He opened a cell and eased our the drawer to reveal a body. He pulled the sheet down the midsection. "Mark Kanno. Same age as Kohaku, same ethnicity, hell, these two even had the same blood type. How we got a pair so similar is beyond me. This boy died of accidental strangulation. Long story," he added after the perplexed glances reached him. "His organs are almost all in tact. His death was very clean and very recent. This body is easily worth far more than Kohaku's on any market. Why did the culprit take Kohaku over Mark?"
"That's sick," Sango spat.
Hojou merely nodded gravely.
"Feh. If the guy wanted to get in and out, he probably picked the first random door," Inu-Yasha said loftily.
"Look, -- er -- Inu-Yasha," Kagome began, "even an amateur knows if the first body's messy, you pick door number two."
"Maybe the guy needed a kid and he didn't know about that Kanno boy," Miroku suggested, returning the camera to his pocket.
"Possible, I suppose," Hojou agreed reluctantly.
"Is that a security camera?" Miroku asked, changing the subject. He pointed above Kagome's head to the small, black sphere.
"Yeah," Kagome said. "But it doesn't record. Obviously if whoever is monitoring saw it, they were busy with something else."
"Still . . . we should talk to him anyway," Miroku said thoughtfully.
"And we better call in the police department," Inu-Yasha sneered. "Hey, Miroku, you sure you got all the pictures we'll need?"
"Yep."
"Come on, Higurashi. You have to show us how to get to this security office," Inu-Yasha commanded.
"I'm going with you," Sango interjected.
"I don't think I can allow that, Miss Zackow," Inu-Yasha informed her.
"It's my brother, Agent, and I'll follow you wherever I think I need," Sango growled menacingly.
"Um . . . perhaps we'll make an exception," an obviously frightened Miroku said, tapping Inu-Yasha's shoulder.
"Useless," he mumbled in Miroku's general direction. "What?!" he demanded of Kagome's glare.
"I'd just like to remind you that this is as much *my* case as it is yours and it'll be a cold day in hell before I take orders from the likes of *you,*" Kagome spat.
"Who's the agent here, woman, me or you?" Inu-Yasha asked, taking a step closer to magnify the foot or so he had over the forensic pathologist.
"Who needs cooperation more, me or you?" Kagome responded coldly. "Judging from your attitude, I figure you'd been reported a time or two. If I refuse to work with you, who'll be replaced, me or you?"
Kagome smirked inwardly when Inu-Yasha shifted nervously in his shoes.
"Fine, let's just go," he finally grumbled.
"*Thank* you," Kagome replied, returning to the suite. "We're going upstairs, then."
"Ooh, Kag, I forgot to tell you --"
And then she was unconscious.
+++
"Kagome, are you okay?"
"Lady Kagome! You didn't hit your head, did you?"
"She'll be fine."
'Did Agent Ash just use the term "lady?" ' Kagome wondered within the depths of her mind. She was beginning to feel that it was the least of her worries, though. Something wasn't right. The floor wasn't the smooth, *wet* tile of the autopsy suite. The smell of fermeldahide was conspicuously absent. It was replaced with . . . a scent she hadn't detected in a long time. It smelled like the forest outside the shrine she had grown up in.
Kagome forced her eyes open and propped herself up on one elbow. The effort was useless though, because when she gasped, the elbow faltered beneath her.
"Where the hell am I?!" she screamed, leaping to her feet from the grassy ground. She looked around. Trees. *Everywhere.* And her companions; their faces hadn't *much* changed, but their clothing had. Miroku in deep blue and purple robes instead of a suit and tie? A golden staff at his side in place of a gun? Sango, too; dressed in the garb of some kind of warrior. She carried a *huge* boomerang upon her back. But they were so much younger -- they looked like teenagers.
But when Kagome looked down, she realized they were not out of place. She was dressed in the uniform she remembered so well from middle school. She couldn't be fifteen again though . . . could she?
"They're coming closer."
Kagome turned to Agent Oniiyoukai's voice, expecting dress similar to Miroku's. What met her eyes made her eyes widen and her jaw drop.
Clad in a red kimono, Inu-Yasha's long dark hair had turned completely silver and a set of dog-like ears make home at the top of his head. Fingernails like claws made even his hands fearsome and his once azure eyes were *gold.*
"What is it, Kagome?" Inu-Yasha asked, taking a step closer.
Kagome took two steps back.
No, there couldn't have been an underlying note of fear in his voice. That alert glare hadn't faltered in the least.
"Agent Onii . . . Onii . . . Inu . . . Yasha?" Kagome asked, unable to believe what she was seeing. "What *are* you?" she whispered. "What kind of genetic defect *is* this?"
"It seems she's lost her mind," Sango replied in bewilderment.
"No, no, no. I'm at Fairveiw Morgue," she said aloud, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm at Fairveiw Morgue in Olympia, Washington on Fairveiw Boulevard and when I open my eyes, we'll all be back the way we're supposed to be." Kagome slowly opened one eye and then the other. She scanned the group once again, her gaze lingering on the FBI agent's new attributes for only a second. "Damnit."
"Feh. Funny, what happens when you hit your head hard enough. 'What am I,' " he sneered. "Never though I'd hear that from you." He turned away from her to scan the forest.
Kagome assured herself she had not detected even a trace of hurt in his voice. "Do you have a problem, Agent?" she demanded.
He flinched. "Stupid wench. You're not worth the time," Inu-Yasha spat. There *was* a hint of pain in that cold voice. After hearing the moral equivalent of the same words not five minutes before, Kagome couldn't deny it. The question was *why?*
"Stupid fed," Kagome replied, not really considering the fact that whatever was going on, he couldn't be a fed anymore. "Stupid, arrogant feddie! *You* move on *my* turf and expect to just take over --"
Inu-Yasha whirled around. "*YOUR TURF?!*"
"What?!" Kagome demanded, seeing the looks on Miroku and Sango's faces. They looked like they had just watched the gate to the impossible erupt in flames and burn to the ground.
"A-are you sure you're all right, Lady Kagome?" Miroku asked carefully.
"No!" Kagome cried.
"We'll worry about it later," Inu-Yasha snapped, pulling a rusty katana from the sheath at his side. He swung it once and it transformed into a huge sword. It almost resembled a fang, Kagome notice, but she didn't really think her opinion would be valued right then. "Stupid, take Shippo and run," he sighed angrily.
"Uh . . . Inu-Yasha? I think she's out again."
+++
"-- That I sprayed down the floor. Sorry."
"Is she okay?"
"Did she hit her head?"
"Feh. She'll live."
"I at Fairveiw Morgue," Kagome whispered before opening her eyes to see Inu-Yasha looking down on her. His hair was black once more and his eyes the icy sapphire they had been when she met him.
It was a dream.
Duh. Of course it was a dream.
She sat up slowly and rubbed the back of her head where she had smacked it on the floor. There would be a goose-egg like nobody's business, but Inu-Yasha had been right -- she would live.
"I-I . . . I'm fine," she said, grasping for balance unwisely on the rolling table beside her. It slipped and she almost fell again, but a hand roughly caught her arm and helped her up.
"Come on," the owner grumbled, returned the appendage to his coat pocket. "We don't have all day."
I lack ownage of "Inu-Yasha" or any related characters. I am merely using their identities to create a story. They belong to Rumiko Takahashi, of whom I am extremely jealous.
Because it bugs me to not be able to intensify anything, from here on out, let
*text*
represent emphasis.
With nothing more to say, let's move on:
Enjoy.
Fate's Ways
Chapter Four
"Dreams"
By Jann
"This place is a dump," Miroku observed upon entry to the cooler. He reached into the pocket of his blazer and took out a small digital camera. Despite his determination to bed just about every woman he laid eyes on, he was quick-minded and efficient when it came to his cases. It was how he managed to remind Inu-Yasha why he tolerated such a lecher.
Miroku began to step around the room as carefully as possible, snapping pictures all the way. "What did it look like in here before the joint was trashed?"
Because he was right -- it really looked horrible. But Kagome could see that whoever had gone through hadn't destruction on his or her mind. There *was* blood everywhere and the door to Kohaku's cell had come clean off. But the cupboards of sheets was unscathed, the unlocked filing cabinet wasn't touched and the Zackow kid's drawer was the only one open. It was obvious that the intruder had one thing and one thing alone on his mind.
Kohaku.
"These aren't ordinary nappers," Hojou said, reading her mind.
"Why?" Inu-Yasha demanded. He too had begun to pick his way around the room cautiously.
"Well, Agent, look at it this way. Say you were looking to steal . . . oh, an exotic bird to sell on the black market. You could only carry one. Which bird would you take?" Hojou asked.
Inu-Yasha shot Hojou a half-skeptical, half-accusatory look before answering. "I guess . . . the biggest, healthiest, best bird they had. The one that would get me the best price."
"Exactly," Hojou responded with a nod. He stepped to the wall to the left, opposite from the window, perpendicular to Kohaku's and therefore cleanest. He opened a cell and eased our the drawer to reveal a body. He pulled the sheet down the midsection. "Mark Kanno. Same age as Kohaku, same ethnicity, hell, these two even had the same blood type. How we got a pair so similar is beyond me. This boy died of accidental strangulation. Long story," he added after the perplexed glances reached him. "His organs are almost all in tact. His death was very clean and very recent. This body is easily worth far more than Kohaku's on any market. Why did the culprit take Kohaku over Mark?"
"That's sick," Sango spat.
Hojou merely nodded gravely.
"Feh. If the guy wanted to get in and out, he probably picked the first random door," Inu-Yasha said loftily.
"Look, -- er -- Inu-Yasha," Kagome began, "even an amateur knows if the first body's messy, you pick door number two."
"Maybe the guy needed a kid and he didn't know about that Kanno boy," Miroku suggested, returning the camera to his pocket.
"Possible, I suppose," Hojou agreed reluctantly.
"Is that a security camera?" Miroku asked, changing the subject. He pointed above Kagome's head to the small, black sphere.
"Yeah," Kagome said. "But it doesn't record. Obviously if whoever is monitoring saw it, they were busy with something else."
"Still . . . we should talk to him anyway," Miroku said thoughtfully.
"And we better call in the police department," Inu-Yasha sneered. "Hey, Miroku, you sure you got all the pictures we'll need?"
"Yep."
"Come on, Higurashi. You have to show us how to get to this security office," Inu-Yasha commanded.
"I'm going with you," Sango interjected.
"I don't think I can allow that, Miss Zackow," Inu-Yasha informed her.
"It's my brother, Agent, and I'll follow you wherever I think I need," Sango growled menacingly.
"Um . . . perhaps we'll make an exception," an obviously frightened Miroku said, tapping Inu-Yasha's shoulder.
"Useless," he mumbled in Miroku's general direction. "What?!" he demanded of Kagome's glare.
"I'd just like to remind you that this is as much *my* case as it is yours and it'll be a cold day in hell before I take orders from the likes of *you,*" Kagome spat.
"Who's the agent here, woman, me or you?" Inu-Yasha asked, taking a step closer to magnify the foot or so he had over the forensic pathologist.
"Who needs cooperation more, me or you?" Kagome responded coldly. "Judging from your attitude, I figure you'd been reported a time or two. If I refuse to work with you, who'll be replaced, me or you?"
Kagome smirked inwardly when Inu-Yasha shifted nervously in his shoes.
"Fine, let's just go," he finally grumbled.
"*Thank* you," Kagome replied, returning to the suite. "We're going upstairs, then."
"Ooh, Kag, I forgot to tell you --"
And then she was unconscious.
+++
"Kagome, are you okay?"
"Lady Kagome! You didn't hit your head, did you?"
"She'll be fine."
'Did Agent Ash just use the term "lady?" ' Kagome wondered within the depths of her mind. She was beginning to feel that it was the least of her worries, though. Something wasn't right. The floor wasn't the smooth, *wet* tile of the autopsy suite. The smell of fermeldahide was conspicuously absent. It was replaced with . . . a scent she hadn't detected in a long time. It smelled like the forest outside the shrine she had grown up in.
Kagome forced her eyes open and propped herself up on one elbow. The effort was useless though, because when she gasped, the elbow faltered beneath her.
"Where the hell am I?!" she screamed, leaping to her feet from the grassy ground. She looked around. Trees. *Everywhere.* And her companions; their faces hadn't *much* changed, but their clothing had. Miroku in deep blue and purple robes instead of a suit and tie? A golden staff at his side in place of a gun? Sango, too; dressed in the garb of some kind of warrior. She carried a *huge* boomerang upon her back. But they were so much younger -- they looked like teenagers.
But when Kagome looked down, she realized they were not out of place. She was dressed in the uniform she remembered so well from middle school. She couldn't be fifteen again though . . . could she?
"They're coming closer."
Kagome turned to Agent Oniiyoukai's voice, expecting dress similar to Miroku's. What met her eyes made her eyes widen and her jaw drop.
Clad in a red kimono, Inu-Yasha's long dark hair had turned completely silver and a set of dog-like ears make home at the top of his head. Fingernails like claws made even his hands fearsome and his once azure eyes were *gold.*
"What is it, Kagome?" Inu-Yasha asked, taking a step closer.
Kagome took two steps back.
No, there couldn't have been an underlying note of fear in his voice. That alert glare hadn't faltered in the least.
"Agent Onii . . . Onii . . . Inu . . . Yasha?" Kagome asked, unable to believe what she was seeing. "What *are* you?" she whispered. "What kind of genetic defect *is* this?"
"It seems she's lost her mind," Sango replied in bewilderment.
"No, no, no. I'm at Fairveiw Morgue," she said aloud, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm at Fairveiw Morgue in Olympia, Washington on Fairveiw Boulevard and when I open my eyes, we'll all be back the way we're supposed to be." Kagome slowly opened one eye and then the other. She scanned the group once again, her gaze lingering on the FBI agent's new attributes for only a second. "Damnit."
"Feh. Funny, what happens when you hit your head hard enough. 'What am I,' " he sneered. "Never though I'd hear that from you." He turned away from her to scan the forest.
Kagome assured herself she had not detected even a trace of hurt in his voice. "Do you have a problem, Agent?" she demanded.
He flinched. "Stupid wench. You're not worth the time," Inu-Yasha spat. There *was* a hint of pain in that cold voice. After hearing the moral equivalent of the same words not five minutes before, Kagome couldn't deny it. The question was *why?*
"Stupid fed," Kagome replied, not really considering the fact that whatever was going on, he couldn't be a fed anymore. "Stupid, arrogant feddie! *You* move on *my* turf and expect to just take over --"
Inu-Yasha whirled around. "*YOUR TURF?!*"
"What?!" Kagome demanded, seeing the looks on Miroku and Sango's faces. They looked like they had just watched the gate to the impossible erupt in flames and burn to the ground.
"A-are you sure you're all right, Lady Kagome?" Miroku asked carefully.
"No!" Kagome cried.
"We'll worry about it later," Inu-Yasha snapped, pulling a rusty katana from the sheath at his side. He swung it once and it transformed into a huge sword. It almost resembled a fang, Kagome notice, but she didn't really think her opinion would be valued right then. "Stupid, take Shippo and run," he sighed angrily.
"Uh . . . Inu-Yasha? I think she's out again."
+++
"-- That I sprayed down the floor. Sorry."
"Is she okay?"
"Did she hit her head?"
"Feh. She'll live."
"I at Fairveiw Morgue," Kagome whispered before opening her eyes to see Inu-Yasha looking down on her. His hair was black once more and his eyes the icy sapphire they had been when she met him.
It was a dream.
Duh. Of course it was a dream.
She sat up slowly and rubbed the back of her head where she had smacked it on the floor. There would be a goose-egg like nobody's business, but Inu-Yasha had been right -- she would live.
"I-I . . . I'm fine," she said, grasping for balance unwisely on the rolling table beside her. It slipped and she almost fell again, but a hand roughly caught her arm and helped her up.
"Come on," the owner grumbled, returned the appendage to his coat pocket. "We don't have all day."