A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Jelly beans for all of you. Sorry I took a
little longer than usual to update. It's been a hectic week.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Inuyasha.
Synthetic Emotions
It was afternoon by the time Kagome and her youkai made it to Miroku's, followed by a dazed and rather subdued activist. By the time they had reached the hospital, the state of the city was apparent, and injured were already trickling in. The waiting room was full of people, and the nursing staff was working frantically to make preparations for the estimated numbers yet to come. They had known that what they were seeing was only the beginning. Kagome hadn't even been able to find a doctor. A middle-aged nurse with a face like an English bulldog had pronounced Sango not in danger, and gave her a sedative.
Kagome had encouraged the other girl to come with them when they left. She hadn't felt comfortable leaving Sango behind drugged.
The bell over the door rang when Kagome herded her little group inside. Sango looked around at the assorted youkai bits with the same detached fascination she had shown everything else since she'd taken those pills. Miroku was not in his customary spot this time, and for a moment Kagome was afraid he wasn't there. The girl's eyes kept traveling back to Inuyasha, flicking over his torn clothes and ripped skin. Every time she looked, her heart sank a little farther, guilt squeezing her heart a little tighter. He had been damaged protecting her. It was her fault.
At least the injuries didn't look as bad once she'd relaxed a bit. She would have sworn that they were worse when she first saw them. She wondered about the fluid that seeped from his wounds. Machines didn't bleed, but it looked that way, with his clothing slowly soaking up. . . whatever it was.
"Miroku!" the girl shouted, a little nervously. What should she do if he wasn't here? Should she wait? Or should she go home, and see if Inuyasha really could repair himself?
"I still don't see why we need the help of this walking hard on," the hanyou muttered loud enough for everyone in the room to hear clearly.
"I resent that," Miroku said, coming down a narrow flight of stairs behind the counter. He lived in an apartment above the shop. "I am a gentleman."
Inuyasha grunted in response.
Kagome set Shippo down, trying to ignore the way Miroku raised one eyebrow in inquiry. He was justified in wondering why she was here with both her youkai, one of them obviously damaged, and a well known anti-youkai activist. He'd want an explanation later, she was sure, but there were more important things to take care of first.
"Can you fix Inuyasha?" Kagome asked without preamble.
Miroku blinked twice. For him, that was quite a display of surprise. His dark eyes went back to Inuyasha, taking in the superficial damage. "I don't know," he said after a moment. "I wouldn't know where to begin with his skin. As far as I know, no companies produce it anymore. What sort of internal problems does he have?"
"My shoulder isn't operational," the hanyou said. "Can you manage to fix a joint?" His voice was harsher than usual, drawing Kagome's attention back to him. She took in his thinned lips, the tight set of his jaw, and the tension that pervaded his posture.
Could it be that hanyou felt pain? What would the point in that be?
Miroku was not so vain that he met Inuyasha's challenge. "As I said before, I don't know."
Inuyasha sighed heavily. "I'll talk you through it."
*~*~*
Kagome watched with a sick curiosity as Inuyasha directed Miroku to cut the skin behind his shoulder blade in two long incisions. The flesh parted smoothly before the scalpel, opening the hanyou's inner structure. She didn't know what she was seeing, but the sight turned her stomach. She could hardly believe how calmly Inuyasha was telling the young man how to proceed, even though the muscles in his face tightened from time to time, and he hissed through clenched teeth when Miroku began probing between two bent edges of metal.
The girl winced in sympathy with every inch his once flawless skin was cut, and grimaced at the dislocated joint they found underneath.
"I think I can fix this," Miroku proclaimed after running his finger gingerly over the afflicted areas. "You're shoulder's out of the socket, and one of your, er, bones, was bent a little. I can bend it back."
"Shut up and get to it then," Inuyasha told the young man through gritted teeth. Miroku left to get some of his tools, giving Kagome a look of long suffering innocence as he went.
Kagome moved to sit next to Inuyasha, noting the way his ears swivelled to follow her movements even though he seemed entirely oblivious to her otherwise.
"Are you alright?" the girl whispered to him. Her curiosity was tainted with worry. He looked like he was hurt. She knew he felt emotions, but did he feel physical sensations as well? Wouldn't that be more of a hindrance than not, if he had to sacrifice himself for his owner. Kagome stumbled over that thought. It was hard to think of Inuyasha belonging to anyone, but her mind returned to her real question, like water running to lower ground.
Only a little more than a week ago, she would have said giving a youkai the capacity to experience pain was both impossible and absurd. Now, however, she wasn't so sure. This Taisho hadn't wanted to make youkai that only served their masters' purposes. He had wanted to create life from a machine.
It wasn't inconceivable that such a man would endow his masterwork with the ability to recognize some physical sensations as unpleasant.
Seconds stretched out and it became clear to the girl that Inuyasha had not intention of answering her question. Then she saw something that pulled her out of her mentation; the scrape on Inuyasha's cheek was fading away. Already the metal that had been visible along his cheekbone had vanished behind what appeared to be new, pink skin.
Kagome squeezed her eyes shut, sure that her eyes were playing tricks on her, but when she opened them again, she still saw the same thing. And the gashes on his torso 'were' getting smaller.
"You're healing," she blurted.
"So?" His gold eyes cracked open, dark and limpid. Pained.
"How can you be healing?"
"Keh." He shook his head. "What are youkai made out of these days? Do you have to repair every little scratch?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"Hn. My skin repairs itself. That way I only have to get outside help when there's internal structure damage."
"Like your shoulder," Kagome said, understanding somewhat. "But how?"
"Why should I know?" he asked, annoyed.
"I'm sorry." The guilt came back with a vengeance. If he felt pain, like she seriously suspected he did, then it was worse than she thought. Not only had she damaged him, she'd 'hurt' him as well. She reached out and appologetically traced the pink line of his upper arm where a deep laceration had sealed closed. The skin twitched under her fingers, and Inuyasha hissed through his teeth.
"I'm sorry," Kagome repeated, pulling her hand away quickly. "Can you feel that?"
"Of course I can feel that!" the hanyou snapped, pulling roughly away from the girl. "I'm a hanyou, not a fucking mannequin. I'm not fa--" he swallowed whatever was going to come after that, looking down so his face was hidden behind a curtain of ivory-white hair. His ears were laid flat against his skull. Kagome felt a stab of nausea, and a sinking certainty that she knew what he was going to say.
"Inuyasha," she whispered softly, not sure how she could correct her slip of the tongue. The exact words she had used came back to her: I don't want something fake. 'Oh gods. . .' She leaned closer to the hanyou, hoping that proximity might say something her mouth couldn't quite shape.
Kagome jumped at the sound of someone clearing his throat rather loudly. "I hope I haven't interrupted something," Miroku said wryly. "But it would probably be better if we finish up here before you two continue your. . . conversation."
"We weren't doing anything, pervert," Inuyasha growled, his face still covered by a spill of bangs.
"Of course not," Miroku agreed with a slightly lewd grin. "And even if you were, it's none of my business."
Heat rushed into Kagome's cheeks, and she knew she was blushing furiously. She huffed, scooting farther away from the hanyou. "You better get going," she said faster than she meant to. "What do I owe you?"
Miroku's grin widened. "I think you could start with how you came to my shop with a broken hanyou and a doped up Hiraikotsu Sango. After that, we'll see."
*~*~*
Sango felt as though she was floating, but slowly, inexorability, she was being drawn back to earth. The feeling that something was very much out of the ordinary was leeching into her consciousness. She just wasn't sure what it was yet.
Her gaze slid over her surrounding, never seeming to stick. She was in the back room of a store. One that sold youkai parts. She blinked, trying to figure out why that should be important. Unfortunately, her thoughts refused to go where she directed them, instead wondering with her eyes, and landing briefly on the small, childish fox youkai who was fidgeting with his tail nervously. The sight of him brought on another pang of wrongness, but once again she couldn't figure out why.
Her attention drifted on, taking in the room's other occupants. One was a girl, a little younger than she herself, with raven black hair and what would have been a pleasant face if it weren't twisted with a worried frown. Sitting a little away from the girl was another youkai, this one with long white hair and a pair of mobile dog-ears on his head. Behind him was a young man with dark hair wearing blue and purple.
Something about the girl and the white haired youkai stirred Sango's memory. Slowly, she recalled the rally, and the rogue youkai that had attacked. This white haired youkai had beaten it, then he and the girl, his owner, had taken her to the hospital, where that short, unpleasant woman had given her two pills to take. . .
'What'd she give me?' the activist asked herself. 'Valium, probably. That, or that stuff they shoot bears up with in the circus.'
There was a sharp snap and a startled yelp from the white haired youkai. That sound, sort of a brittle crack, shot through the fog around Sango's brain.
"Excuse me," the young woman said, breaking into the youkai's vicious cursing. "Would someone please explain to me what's going on."
*~*~*
A/N: That's all for today. I realize it's a little shorter than most of my chapters, but hey, it's better than nothing, right? Feedback is always appreciated. That means review, people. Tell me what you liked, and what you didn't. If you have questions, I will do my best to answer them, as long as it's not a spoiler.
Until next time.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Inuyasha.
Synthetic Emotions
It was afternoon by the time Kagome and her youkai made it to Miroku's, followed by a dazed and rather subdued activist. By the time they had reached the hospital, the state of the city was apparent, and injured were already trickling in. The waiting room was full of people, and the nursing staff was working frantically to make preparations for the estimated numbers yet to come. They had known that what they were seeing was only the beginning. Kagome hadn't even been able to find a doctor. A middle-aged nurse with a face like an English bulldog had pronounced Sango not in danger, and gave her a sedative.
Kagome had encouraged the other girl to come with them when they left. She hadn't felt comfortable leaving Sango behind drugged.
The bell over the door rang when Kagome herded her little group inside. Sango looked around at the assorted youkai bits with the same detached fascination she had shown everything else since she'd taken those pills. Miroku was not in his customary spot this time, and for a moment Kagome was afraid he wasn't there. The girl's eyes kept traveling back to Inuyasha, flicking over his torn clothes and ripped skin. Every time she looked, her heart sank a little farther, guilt squeezing her heart a little tighter. He had been damaged protecting her. It was her fault.
At least the injuries didn't look as bad once she'd relaxed a bit. She would have sworn that they were worse when she first saw them. She wondered about the fluid that seeped from his wounds. Machines didn't bleed, but it looked that way, with his clothing slowly soaking up. . . whatever it was.
"Miroku!" the girl shouted, a little nervously. What should she do if he wasn't here? Should she wait? Or should she go home, and see if Inuyasha really could repair himself?
"I still don't see why we need the help of this walking hard on," the hanyou muttered loud enough for everyone in the room to hear clearly.
"I resent that," Miroku said, coming down a narrow flight of stairs behind the counter. He lived in an apartment above the shop. "I am a gentleman."
Inuyasha grunted in response.
Kagome set Shippo down, trying to ignore the way Miroku raised one eyebrow in inquiry. He was justified in wondering why she was here with both her youkai, one of them obviously damaged, and a well known anti-youkai activist. He'd want an explanation later, she was sure, but there were more important things to take care of first.
"Can you fix Inuyasha?" Kagome asked without preamble.
Miroku blinked twice. For him, that was quite a display of surprise. His dark eyes went back to Inuyasha, taking in the superficial damage. "I don't know," he said after a moment. "I wouldn't know where to begin with his skin. As far as I know, no companies produce it anymore. What sort of internal problems does he have?"
"My shoulder isn't operational," the hanyou said. "Can you manage to fix a joint?" His voice was harsher than usual, drawing Kagome's attention back to him. She took in his thinned lips, the tight set of his jaw, and the tension that pervaded his posture.
Could it be that hanyou felt pain? What would the point in that be?
Miroku was not so vain that he met Inuyasha's challenge. "As I said before, I don't know."
Inuyasha sighed heavily. "I'll talk you through it."
*~*~*
Kagome watched with a sick curiosity as Inuyasha directed Miroku to cut the skin behind his shoulder blade in two long incisions. The flesh parted smoothly before the scalpel, opening the hanyou's inner structure. She didn't know what she was seeing, but the sight turned her stomach. She could hardly believe how calmly Inuyasha was telling the young man how to proceed, even though the muscles in his face tightened from time to time, and he hissed through clenched teeth when Miroku began probing between two bent edges of metal.
The girl winced in sympathy with every inch his once flawless skin was cut, and grimaced at the dislocated joint they found underneath.
"I think I can fix this," Miroku proclaimed after running his finger gingerly over the afflicted areas. "You're shoulder's out of the socket, and one of your, er, bones, was bent a little. I can bend it back."
"Shut up and get to it then," Inuyasha told the young man through gritted teeth. Miroku left to get some of his tools, giving Kagome a look of long suffering innocence as he went.
Kagome moved to sit next to Inuyasha, noting the way his ears swivelled to follow her movements even though he seemed entirely oblivious to her otherwise.
"Are you alright?" the girl whispered to him. Her curiosity was tainted with worry. He looked like he was hurt. She knew he felt emotions, but did he feel physical sensations as well? Wouldn't that be more of a hindrance than not, if he had to sacrifice himself for his owner. Kagome stumbled over that thought. It was hard to think of Inuyasha belonging to anyone, but her mind returned to her real question, like water running to lower ground.
Only a little more than a week ago, she would have said giving a youkai the capacity to experience pain was both impossible and absurd. Now, however, she wasn't so sure. This Taisho hadn't wanted to make youkai that only served their masters' purposes. He had wanted to create life from a machine.
It wasn't inconceivable that such a man would endow his masterwork with the ability to recognize some physical sensations as unpleasant.
Seconds stretched out and it became clear to the girl that Inuyasha had not intention of answering her question. Then she saw something that pulled her out of her mentation; the scrape on Inuyasha's cheek was fading away. Already the metal that had been visible along his cheekbone had vanished behind what appeared to be new, pink skin.
Kagome squeezed her eyes shut, sure that her eyes were playing tricks on her, but when she opened them again, she still saw the same thing. And the gashes on his torso 'were' getting smaller.
"You're healing," she blurted.
"So?" His gold eyes cracked open, dark and limpid. Pained.
"How can you be healing?"
"Keh." He shook his head. "What are youkai made out of these days? Do you have to repair every little scratch?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"Hn. My skin repairs itself. That way I only have to get outside help when there's internal structure damage."
"Like your shoulder," Kagome said, understanding somewhat. "But how?"
"Why should I know?" he asked, annoyed.
"I'm sorry." The guilt came back with a vengeance. If he felt pain, like she seriously suspected he did, then it was worse than she thought. Not only had she damaged him, she'd 'hurt' him as well. She reached out and appologetically traced the pink line of his upper arm where a deep laceration had sealed closed. The skin twitched under her fingers, and Inuyasha hissed through his teeth.
"I'm sorry," Kagome repeated, pulling her hand away quickly. "Can you feel that?"
"Of course I can feel that!" the hanyou snapped, pulling roughly away from the girl. "I'm a hanyou, not a fucking mannequin. I'm not fa--" he swallowed whatever was going to come after that, looking down so his face was hidden behind a curtain of ivory-white hair. His ears were laid flat against his skull. Kagome felt a stab of nausea, and a sinking certainty that she knew what he was going to say.
"Inuyasha," she whispered softly, not sure how she could correct her slip of the tongue. The exact words she had used came back to her: I don't want something fake. 'Oh gods. . .' She leaned closer to the hanyou, hoping that proximity might say something her mouth couldn't quite shape.
Kagome jumped at the sound of someone clearing his throat rather loudly. "I hope I haven't interrupted something," Miroku said wryly. "But it would probably be better if we finish up here before you two continue your. . . conversation."
"We weren't doing anything, pervert," Inuyasha growled, his face still covered by a spill of bangs.
"Of course not," Miroku agreed with a slightly lewd grin. "And even if you were, it's none of my business."
Heat rushed into Kagome's cheeks, and she knew she was blushing furiously. She huffed, scooting farther away from the hanyou. "You better get going," she said faster than she meant to. "What do I owe you?"
Miroku's grin widened. "I think you could start with how you came to my shop with a broken hanyou and a doped up Hiraikotsu Sango. After that, we'll see."
*~*~*
Sango felt as though she was floating, but slowly, inexorability, she was being drawn back to earth. The feeling that something was very much out of the ordinary was leeching into her consciousness. She just wasn't sure what it was yet.
Her gaze slid over her surrounding, never seeming to stick. She was in the back room of a store. One that sold youkai parts. She blinked, trying to figure out why that should be important. Unfortunately, her thoughts refused to go where she directed them, instead wondering with her eyes, and landing briefly on the small, childish fox youkai who was fidgeting with his tail nervously. The sight of him brought on another pang of wrongness, but once again she couldn't figure out why.
Her attention drifted on, taking in the room's other occupants. One was a girl, a little younger than she herself, with raven black hair and what would have been a pleasant face if it weren't twisted with a worried frown. Sitting a little away from the girl was another youkai, this one with long white hair and a pair of mobile dog-ears on his head. Behind him was a young man with dark hair wearing blue and purple.
Something about the girl and the white haired youkai stirred Sango's memory. Slowly, she recalled the rally, and the rogue youkai that had attacked. This white haired youkai had beaten it, then he and the girl, his owner, had taken her to the hospital, where that short, unpleasant woman had given her two pills to take. . .
'What'd she give me?' the activist asked herself. 'Valium, probably. That, or that stuff they shoot bears up with in the circus.'
There was a sharp snap and a startled yelp from the white haired youkai. That sound, sort of a brittle crack, shot through the fog around Sango's brain.
"Excuse me," the young woman said, breaking into the youkai's vicious cursing. "Would someone please explain to me what's going on."
*~*~*
A/N: That's all for today. I realize it's a little shorter than most of my chapters, but hey, it's better than nothing, right? Feedback is always appreciated. That means review, people. Tell me what you liked, and what you didn't. If you have questions, I will do my best to answer them, as long as it's not a spoiler.
Until next time.