Disclaimer: See chapter 1
A/N: IMPORTANT NOTE!!! Now that I've got your attention, I need to pass along some news…as of December 20th, I'm off to B.C. (the province not the era) for two weeks to visit family…family that doesn't believe in the magic of technology (unless you want to call a fax machine technology). What does this mean to you, you ask? Well, it means that Chapter 6 will be the last chapter for a little while to come, at least until I get back and settle into normal life…so enjoy this chapter, and look for the next one before I leave…cause that's all I'll be able to offer for some time…
As for my wonderful, amazing, adored reviewers, I wish to apologize for not being able to responding to your comments once again this time…sadly, I'm in a rush to get this up because I have relatives coming from England tomorrow, and I wanted to give you all something to read until the next post…anyway, here's to Azura Dea, Anti [.] Poptarts, hAdOwCat, Dark Padme, LadyCatBailey, sailor-scribe, Flamingtoad, Moonlight Storm, Perm, Celeste08, NekoKaji, 'drake220, and Lunar Kitty, for all their support and time spent reading! You guys are keeping me and this story going! And I'll make sure to make it a little more personal next time ~__^ Love ya!
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Chapter 5: The Cat's in the Bag~^~^~^~
It was just no use.
No matter how much he shuffled, shifted, or flopped, Miroku just could not get to sleep.
He had no reason to be denied that one moment of peace, when the entire world was in your head and nothing was real. But no matter what he tried, his mind just didn't want to drift off.
Thumping his useless pillows in frustration, he tried a new position, burying his head under the covers this time round in hopes that it would block out the world.
Perhaps his days as a child had faded to a point that he didn't remember what happened when the blankets covered your head. Whatever the case, Miroku soon found himself roasting and gasping in a matter of seconds.
Throwing the covers away as far as he could, he heaved a breath, now wishing that the apartment wasn't heated so well. 'Smart move,' he thought, 'Now what do I do?' He couldn't stay in his bed any longer, or he'd probably go stir-crazy.
He glanced at the flashing neon numbers of his clock and groaned. It was already two am? Great…a night of no sleep and a day ahead full of meetings and paperwork. What a day it would be!
With a sigh, Miroku extracted himself from the confines of his remaining sheets and threw on a housecoat. There was only one solution he could think of to cool down—short of throwing glasses of ice water over his head.
He drew back the curtains covering the doors that led out onto his personal balcony. A quick jolt of fresh air would certainly bring him to his senses. After all, he was awake as he could possibly be and nothing would change that. Well, maybe there were a few things he could think of…
Grinning at the perverted thoughts filtering into his already corrupted mind, the young businessman stepped out onto the balcony, gasping as unprotected feet came into contact with an icy floor. Damn, forgot about the slippers…
The city was still glowing at this time of night—Tokyo was a city that never slept—but the traffic had diminished. And when you lived practically thirty stories above it all, it could almost be considered a peaceful night.
Miroku smiled to himself, leaning against the wrought iron railing and admired the scenery. There was something rather soothing about being on top of the city, and observing everything from a bird's eye view. He took in a panoramic view, clutching the robe closer to his arms as the wind whistled through the buildings.
Snow-topped roofs glittered from lamps and the light spilling from windows of the taller buildings. Car lights shone through the brightly lit streets. The stars glittered overhead. And two tails poked around the corner of his building, resting on the railing of Inuyasha's balcony.
'Wait, since when does Inuyasha have tails?'
It was then that Miroku noticed that these were no ordinary tails. Flames licked at each of the tips, travelling down from only God knew what.
Whether it was the divine spirits or just his jet-lagged mind going into overtime, Miroku suddenly had a revelation.
Something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
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"Just…one…more…turn. Ha!" Sango whispered triumphantly, watching in satisfaction as the lock jostled open, and fell at an awkward angle. She knew hanyou had ultra-sensitive hearing, and had gone a quieter route rather than just barging in through the glass.
The assassin nodded to Kirara, and gently pried the sliding doors back, holding her breath for something—anything—to lunge out through the closed curtains.
They waited one, two, three seconds before Sango unsheathed her sword from its delicate hilt, and positioned herself to jump in and still manage to be on guard. Even though she had memorized the apartment plans—and had a basic idea about the furniture layout—there was always a chance for surprise.
A good assassin recognized this fact. A great assassin not only acknowledged it, but made plans to include it in their tactics.
And Sango liked to think she fell under the great category…at least when it came to hunting youkai in the wild forests of Northern Japan.
Still, Tokyo was its own kind of wilderness—a forest of cement, concrete, and asphalt. The demons that prowled those trails not only had the physical prowess, but the financial aid to keep them from harm's way. And—Sango believed—those were the most dangerous youkai out there.
"Ready?"
Kirara managed to adjust herself to the confining space of the balcony—restricting to her only since she changed into her bigger form—and brought up the rear.
The curtains barely moved as Sango snuck through them. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she noted the lump on the bed. Rolling her eyes at the stupidity of security, she levelled the sword where the neck should be, and brought it down in one quick, razor-sharp slice.
Only the spray of blood that she had anticipated didn't come gushing out. In fact no substance of the sort emerged from what should have been a fatal wound.
Leaning in closer, Sango narrowed her eyes, wishing that she had her night-goggles. 'Wait…what was that? Cotton?'
But her realization hit a moment too late.
Even Kirara barely had time to roar before something flew out of the closet and caught the assassin in a tight stronghold around her neck.
Sango swung her sword around, trying to make contact with any kind of flesh she could, but whatever was holding her dodged each swipe expertly.
Gasping, she bent down, gripped the arm around her neck, and flipped whatever was behind her onto the floor in a practiced move. Having a little brother had proved to be useful at moments like these…
The assassin wondered why Kirara wasn't coming to her side, and cried out when she saw her cat on her side, five large gashes oozing on one arm. Already her creamy fur was disappearing under a blanket of red, and her heaving chest wasn't a good sign either.
"Kirara!" She yelled, but barely had a chance to move before the thing was on her again. She found herself glaring up into burning yellow eyes that stared down at her as it pounced.
This time Sango was ready, taking careful aim at his outstretched arms, ducking thrown punches and outstretched claws. But it was truly those eyes that gave away just who her attacker was. And certainly no half-breed dog demon was going to get away with hurting her closest friend.
"Inuyasha!"
Startled, Sango let her guard down for a single instant as she looked to the darkened figure in the doorway.
And that was all the "half-breed" needed.
In one swift move, he had her backed up against the wall, sword dangling uselessly from her pinned arms, her neck at the mercy of his bared claws.
Breathing hard, Sango struggled against the unyielding force, cursing herself for getting distracted. But the panic only started to emerge when the figure in the doorway ran over to Kirara.
"Get away from her!"
Inuyasha growled and kept her pinned down. Her breath was making a funny rasping sound through the mask she wore, and the hanyou wondered if she was okay. But that didn't stop him from keeping her in an iron grip. There was no use trusting people who were out to get you.
"Shut up, wench!"
"Inuyasha, the lights."
A single claw stretched out further and Sango winced as it neared her face. This was it. This had to be it…
Click. Lights flooded the room, and the assassin flinched against the brightness, still anticipating the pain she knew she would be feeling.
A moment went by, then another one, and Sango realized that she was still breathing, and surprisingly intact. So he hadn't shredded her to pieces…yet. Big whoop. They probably wanted to find some things out before they did away with her.
When her eyes finally opened, they were faced with not one, but two pairs of eyes staring at her.
"What have we got here?" The dark-haired one asked to no one in particular, his hair more than a little frazzled. "Were you expecting a midnight caller, Inuyasha?"
"Shut up, pervert. Now, you better give us some answers, bitch, or I'll be more than happy to persuade you to give it up." The half dog-demon flashed his claws, a sneer etching his face.
"Do what you will," Sango spat, using her eyes to get her point across since they wouldn't be able to see the snarl her lips formed. "I'll never tell you bastards anything."
She didn't like the fact that the half-breed's sneer got wider, nor did she like the look the two men exchanged.
Following their line of sight, she caught her breath as all the confidence she had dissipated.
"Mew."
The now-small demon cat was tucked firmly the dark-haired man's—Miraku? Mironku? —arm, her tiny side bright red, and staining the robe of her possessor. Her fiery eyes were half closed with pain, and even though Sango knew she would regenerate quickly, it still pained her to see her best friend in so much agony.
"Put her down, you're hurting her!" Sango cried, struggling against the arms that held her captive. Nothing mattered anymore except making sure Kirara was okay.
"Give us some answers." Inuyasha watched her plaintively; his suggestive nod at her cat further stressing the hint.
Sango glared hard at the half-breed, fighting against losing all self-control she managed to keep. But her dignity wasn't worth the life of her friend, no matter how hard it would be.
"What do you want to know?"
Inuyasha smirked now, looking triumphant in her defeat. Sango hated him for that. "Who sent you?"
"You should know, half-breed." She made sure to stress the last name, and watched as it hit the one in question. He didn't dare show it, but the assassin recognized wounded pride when she saw it. "He's a relative of yours."
Inuyasha turned for a moment, and Sango saw Miroku—yes, that was his name—placing Kirara on a pile of pillows. If they weren't such bastards, she might have truly appreciated the care the man seemed to be giving her friend.
That single moment of Inuyasha's distraction was enough for even a weary mind to grab hold of and make a plan. And Sango's mind was hardly weary at the moment.
'Kirara, do not fret. I will come back for you,' Sango thought, revelling for an instant in her sadness at leaving behind her comrade and bit down hard on the half-breed's barely loosened arms.
"You bitch!"
But Sango didn't even flinch at the scream. She was already ducking out from Inuyasha's hold and flying towards the main door of the apartment, having memorized the entire layout that morning.
Her feet took her through the door, down a hallway and into the elevator—a risky move but one she had to make in order to get down from the top. If ever there was a fire in the elevator, Mr. Houshi would be trapped in his precious pad simply because the idiot who had designed the hotel had not included an emergency stairway to the top.
In the elevator, Sango took a moment to catch her breath. Her entire body ached from the amount of work she had put into the short fight. Normally all she did was fling her boomerang a few times at the demon's head, and it would crumble into pieces.
But this one, a half-breed no less, had taken her more effort than usual. She blamed it on the sword that she had left behind in the apartment. Swords were too flimsy, too unreliable to do any good damage when it came to those with demon blood.
The elevator halted and opened onto the eleventh floor. Sango quickly punched in a few lower numbers on the elevator then darted out towards the back staircase she knew was hiding behind a door marked 'Staff Only'. It would lead straight to the alleyway behind the hotel, and to her freedom.
'They really did hire an idiot planner for this place.'
She hoped that whomever was waiting at the bottom of the elevator would be delayed by the numerous stops it was making, giving her enough time to get out. No doubt Mr. Houshi had alerted his security team about her presence. His goons were probably crowded into the front lobby waiting for her appearance with handcuffs and raised batons.
'Not this time, boys,' Sango thought smugly as she found the door and started her descent down the cold, concrete stairs. Her breath was coming in short gasps now, but the assassin couldn't lose focus on her goal. So she took a few deep breaths and ploughed onward, berating herself for not having been better prepared.
She wasn't used to this kind of hitch in her plans. It wasn't failure though. There were still a few days of "leeway" time that Sesshomaru had outlined in case his brother had chosen to be difficult. And Sango planned on cutting that time into half. It wasn't anyone's demands she was answering to now. It was her own.
The fresh winter air met her senses as she burst through the door. Taking a sharp right, she ran headlong into the dark alleyway, ignoring the shouts of surprise she heard behind her. At least Mr. Houshi had thought to post someone near the door. It proved he wasn't as ignorant as she had first thought.
Gunshots rang across the empty roads, but Sango only smirked as she slid into her car and started it up—blocks away from the hotel. She would go home, have a quick shower then finish the details on the plan she had come up with during her run. It was a plan that was so simple, so easy, that no one in that fancy hotel would see it coming.
The image of Kirara's blood-soaked side appeared in her mind, and Sango instantly sobered. "Hang in there, my friend. I won't be long at all."
Little did the assassin know simplicity was never truly effective, and that her two male enemies were smarter than they looked.
Or, at least, they imagined they were.
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"I can't believe it. You own a multi-million dollar hotel with equally expensive security and that bitch still manages to escape!"
Miroku shrugged his shoulders. "I've been trying to seal that staircase up ever since I took control but the fire marshals say it would be a fire hazard if we did. At least I had people posted out there, or we would never know which way she went."
"So your people got a look at her car?"
"More than a look." Miroku smiled smugly. "I made sure that security was posted at the end of the alleyway on either end, so my men even got her license plate number."
"So what do you propose we do now, Mr. Hotshot?" Inuyasha growled. He didn't care about license plates. He cared about having that girl back in his grasp.
"You just can't see the bright side to anything," Miroku grumbled, still dressed in his robe and pyjamas, one hand gently stroking the head of the demon cat on the pillow. Every few minutes, it would let out a pitiful mew and glance at the door, as if expecting her homicidal mistress to come bursting through the door. "Besides, you're not exactly in a position to help out too much here. As I recall, you seem to be her target. I'm not risking you getting hurt again."
Miroku eyed the demon's bloodstained clothing, knowing full well that his friend had suffered almost as much as the assassin. She had been pretty quick on her feet for a human.
"I can take care of myself!"
"And tonight proved that it's harder than it looks."
Inuyasha growled again, and started pacing back and forth, the words of the assassin girl still ringing in his mind. 'A relative? What family do I still have that would want to kill me?'
Then—like the morning light that was creeping over the Tokyo skyline—it dawned on him.
"Sesshomaru!" Inuyasha spit, halting in the middle of the room. "It has to be him. This whole operation reeks of his oily, slimy style."
"Why would your brother want you dead?"
"How the hell would I know? He's had it in for me since we were kids!" The hanyou started up his pacing again. "But why a human assassin? Doesn't he think I'm good enough to handle a youkai?"
Kirara curled under Miroku's gentle hand, enjoying the absent scratching behind her ears. But Miroku was focussed on his agitated friend and didn't notice the cat's apprehensive but growing relaxation. The surprise attack had rattled both of their nerves. " If he's really out to get you, then he would want to offend you as much as possible. Don't you see? He's mocking your abilities to fight."
"Feh."
"Inuyasha, listen to me! Your brother means business. First that one out in the back alleyway, now this one in you very own room!" Miroku stood up, desperate for the hanyou to listen. He needed to understand, for his own sake and for the sake of the young businessman's sanity. "Sesshomaru wants your head on a platter, for some reason or another, and so far we've been playing into his hands. These attacks happened too easily for my liking, and—like I said—it's harder to protect you than we first thought."
"So what? What do we do? Hide away in some cave until my brother finds this game boring and finds a new toy? I won't let him get the better of me." Inuyasha crossed his arms stubbornly, taking up his usual defiant position.
Miroku rolled his eyes. "Not hide in a cave exactly. Ah! Before you say something, let me explain. I have a plan—not a detailed one, but it's a plan all the same. But it means we're going to have to leave Tokyo for a little while."
"No! Then he'll think he's won!"
"Not if we plan this right," Miroku placated, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. "First, you have to promise me that you'll come with me tomorrow morning."
"Where are you going?"
"Just promise me you'll come."
"Feh."
"Inuyasha," Miroku warned, finding it rather silly that he—a mere man—was threatening a hanyou that could tear him into shreds in a matter of seconds.
The hanyou's eyes were hard for a moment longer, before his ears drooped and the barrier fell down. It was then Miroku realized just how much of a toll this was taking on his friend. On both of them.
"Don't worry. It's nothing you don't want to do," Miroku said lightly. "Now, we have to do something about this cat before she heals fully and manages to claw my place to tiny pieces."
Inuyasha shrugged and pushed away from Miroku's prying eyes, embarrassed that his friend had managed to get a glimpse of what he was truly feeling. "Demons heal fast, but not that fast. She won't be doing anything for a few days at least."
"You must have gotten her pretty good," The young man commented as he turned his attention back to the cat, trying to examine the damage done. But there was too much blood, so he resolved to clean the poor demon up as soon as possible.
"Meh, I saw her before she saw me, so I took my chances. It was lucky."
'You were also 'lucky' that the assassin didn't do away with you for what you did to her pet,' Miroku thought. He couldn't tell Inuyasha, but the fire he had seen in that woman's eyes when she saw the cat had made even him worry. There was so much burning in those eyes that he found himself wondering what kind of woman she truly was. She couldn't have been a steely assassin—no one with an icy heart reacted that passionately when a minor demon was hurt.
So what was she then?
"Once you've finished playing with that cat, we should discuss plans," Inuyasha said gruffly, interrupting Miroku's pleasant train of thought.
"Sounds good."
The young man turned his attention back to the cat, waiting for Inuyasha to leave so that he could collect his thoughts. A sulking hanyou never helped anyone's attention span.
Once he had stormed off, Miroku let out a sigh. He wondered whether Inuyasha would protest at what he was planning to do tomorrow. After all, he hated being cooped up, and he definitely wouldn't like the responsibility that Miroku was going to take. But nothing could change this businessman's mind. And besides, he was the owner of the hotel and had a say in the welfare of his customers. He had to put their safety first, and having an assassin target around didn't help it out at all.
Oh well, Miroku just hoped Kagome wouldn't maim him too much for dumping an overnight patient on her for a few days. Maybe he could plead a veterinarian code or something. Whatever the case, he doubted he'd return to the hotel unscathed after tomorrow morning.
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Chapter 6 is on its way!