A/N: See? I can update! Just.. Sparingly. And.. Christmas.
Fate:
Whatever is destined or inevitably decreed for one.
Synonyms: circumstance, destiny, doom, kismet, lot, portion, weird.
- Webster's Electronic Thesaurus
"He's soft. Like a puppy made of playdoh. Except he has a razor blade in the middle. In case kids want to play with him." -- Shippo, on Inuyasha.
"You're not going to.. Hurt her right? 'Cause you said you just needed to talk to her." His nose wrinkled faintly, and Kagome felt like she might have more than a snowball's chance of hell of not being killed, raped, maimed, or.. Well those made the top three right now.
"Right. I want to talk to her. I'm also going to rescue all the stray puppies and kittens and we'll all get high on life and parade down the streets of Tokyo." He drawled, face deadpan.
And Kagome died. Metaphorically, of course.
Because in reality she was still alive for the scant seconds she had left.
"That sounds nice, but I really have to be getting-- Uhn." He turned a knife-edge amber glare on her and her stomach again quailed with that pang of wrongness. Maybe this was one of her miko gifts being birthed?
Was running an option?
Someone nailed my feet to the pavement when I wasn't looking. Or I'm waa-ay too much LSD to function.
Besides, her only exit was being blocked by death in a black t-shirt and worn jeans.
So.. No.
"You can't hurt her. You.. You can't." The youkai bared his little teeth, and brought his fists up in front of his chest.
The teen smirked, showing his own rather sharp canines, which made the young youkai's fangs seem slightly less dangerous.
"Really?" He darted forward suddenly, grabbing Kagome by the scruff of her school blouse and pulling her up off the ground. "'Cause I can't see anything stopping me."
Kagome made a noise of protest as her shirt hem tugged out of her skirt and the collar of her shirt pressed against the column of her throat. She coughed less than lady-like, issuing an angry wet gurgle. Her feet dangled above the pavement and one of her brown loafers fell off her foot to sweet freedom.
Ow! Her vision went grey at the edges.
She was in awe of how strong he was. Sure, she had heard the stories of youkai strength, like everyone else, but having that same legendary strength hoist her up like a wrinkly puppy by the scruff of your neck had a frightening effect on her.
"Anyway, I like violence. It makes me all melty inside." He purred, shaking her a few times to give credence to his statement.
"Gukkkk--" Said her abused throat, possibly protesting, possibly being crushed to wet powder.
That did not bode well for her. In fact, it boded very badly.
A hand snuck into her peripheral vision to tear her fingers away from her throat. She squeaked at the sudden return of pressure against her windpipe before she felt her feet, one socked, one shoed, touch ground again.
Kagome sucked in a great lungful of air with subdued relief, and then went rigid when her wrists were caught in one clawed, clawed!, hand and pinned together with bone squelching force.
Oh right--! I'm still about to die..
There was a faint squeaky growling from her lure-turned-protector in protest.
"I thought I told you to leave, scruffy pup." Her captor's growl was definitely more intimidating. It rumbled up through the soles of her feet, and through the iron grip of his skin on hers at her wrist. It made all her nerve endings quail and tingle in fear.
"No! You broke our deal! I said I would get her in here, but only if you were just going to talk to her! You told me she wouldn't be hurt!" His slim body quaked with a mixture of fear and courage, and she was reminded of a small animal confronting a predator.
It was a very apt analogy.
"Well I lied. Tough shit. Now, you can either scamper, or I can knock your head off that wall until you get dead or unconscious, whichever comes first. I don't have time to deal with your little hero act right now, kid." He clamped her pinned wrists around her side and to his side with one hand.
She attempted to tug loose, giving it everything she had. His pinky finger didn't even wiggle.
Self-defense. Self-defense. Grampa gave you lessons for a reason, retard!
Something about a solar plexus. And a sternum. Her grandfather's voice was screaming "Eye! Groin! Eye, groin!" in her head, and her brow crumpled in confusion. She couldn't connect the two.
"I--," was as far as the young youkai got before the front of his t-shirt was snatched and he was dragged forward and crushed against Kagome's ribcage. "Mmph!" He cried, his face safely buried in her rumpled shirt.
"I don't fuckin' have time for this." His free hand came around and Kagome flinched violently, pushing herself into him in order to avoid what was obviously going to be a nasty blow to her head. His hand hesitated, his fist clenching spasmodically.
"Please.." She whispered, her back crushed uncomfortably against his gut. Her eyes clenched shut and she sucked in a frightened breath between her teeth. "Don't!"
She hated sounding so pathetic and helplessly girly, but she felt the sudden fear only a girl or a woman can experience. Utter helplessness.
Kagome had no defenses, all her grandfather's drills had come to nothing. If she was hit, she would break. Like a piece of frail porcelain.
"Damnit." He cursed, muttering under his breath. His hand retreated and she waited, trembling.
"You could just let me go, I won't tell anyone. I swear. I won't go to the--" Her pleas were cut off with a sharp jab to the side of her throat. She gasped and tugged her head sideways violently, trying to pull away from the fierce pinching on her neck. "Ow!"
What did he do?!
The pain receded slightly and she tugged her hand in a knee-jerk reaction to attempt to clamp her hand over her neck.
Her throat burned with a cold fire and she swayed, her eyes narrowing in confusion.
"This shit is expensive, you should be grateful, bitch." He bit out, his hand clenching painfully on her captive wrists.
"What--?" She managed and panicked at the swell of faintness that reached out for her. Her body quivered in protest.
"Not as fast as a knock to the head, but it does the same job." He tugged her wrists further up to pin them under his armpit, and then he dropped his hand away.
Kagome struggled faintly, thinking that she could free her hands now that he wasn't holding them, but her own weakness was frightening.
He injected me with something!
She swayed in his grip, held up by only her pinned hands, the irony not lost on her.
Fight it, fight it damnit!
There was a sharp gasp from the boy pinned to her front, and she managed to grasp with the failing threads of cognitive thought she had left that he had been injected too.
That hurts. Poor boy. She wondered at the fact that even her thoughts were slurred with a slow awe, her fear falling away finally with her consciousness.
Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek (tickly!), and she looked down at the cap of scruffy ginger hair with a curious affection. She gave a slow giggle at the sight of the three of them sandwiched together (sandwich!).
A thought occurred to her, rising, struggling, to the surface of the quagmire that was her mind.
"My bur--brother?" She slurred, craning her head with heavy exhaustion to look back at the amber eyes watching her intently.
"How the fuck would I know?" He shrugged negligently.
Kagome let her head drop to her chest, and felt her numb body being tugged up into a loose embrace-like grip. He had picked her up.
Sorry. Can't walk anymore.
Her hand reached out to try and grab at something, someone.. She couldn't remember now. Only, she didn't want to leave someone behind.
"Him." She breathed. "Him too."
There was a sharp string of curses from the chest she was crushed against. Kagome wondered at the steady thump-thump against her cheek.
"I can't. He stays here." He snapped, shaking her in his arms like he was scolding her.
She grunted in protest, coming back from the lure of sleep long enough to open her eyes and glare weakly.
"Him too!" She growled gutturally, reaching out for the limp form of the youkai on the pavement.
"Fuck. Mouthy bitch." He hissed between clenched teeth, and then looked down at her with a melty yellow glare that made her want to giggle, only she was too tired. "No." He enunciated.
She wondered at the spots of black that swarmed over her vision. Something occurred to her, far too late for it to have made a difference. Kagome would curse herself backward and forward when she was lucid for not thinking of it while it could have been effective.
At that moment however, it was only a clever threat.
"I'll scream." She smiled happily, her mind a roaring vortex of white nothing. It was a good bribe.
He looked as if he wanted to hit her. Badly. Instead he glared, bared his teeth in silent menace, and then tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. She watched her arms dangle by his spine in blank confusion.
Then they were bending over, and she saw another pair of arms dangle by hers.
Hi! She thought to them happily, as the darkness reached up to engulf her.
"--Kill her. Messy. Later. Dead." Kagome heard, as she at last surrendered.
Interlude
(page 365, 'A Brief Guide to Modern-Day Tokyo' )
This ain't your mother's Tokyo. Or even your grandmother's.
(Maybe it isn't ours at all?)
Tokyo has changed drastically since the death of Kikyo, the city's last great miko. In a little over eighteen years, Japan's center made the changes necessary for survival without our Strength.
The city underwent a period of intense mourning, which in fact, still hasn't ended. One can still find the black armbands the city, possibly the world, wore when Kikyo was at last announced MIA, at any major vendor. There are still those old enough to remember the safe days who will paint you a pretty picture with stories of our Strength, of our Salvation.
When it became apparent that the city would fall if drastic changes were not made, Tokyo became the source of its own strength. It is nothing like the protection the miko Kikyo offered, but it is suffice to get us through each day.
The city is protected now, of course, by the militia. What monks that have survived the Great Purging are an integral part of the militia's force. Their spiritual powers are meager when compared to the power of a Great miko, but is still vital.
Tokyo is now a less culturally-bound city. There are those who are displeased with the changes in morality, the changes in the very appearance of the city, but the force for change will not be stopped.
There was a day when it was a very rare sight to see any overt displays of public affection. Now, it is not unusual to catch teenagers groping in the street.
Perhaps we are entitled. So many die each day now, that modesty has literally gone out the window. Love is a newly looked upon coin. If the chances that you may never see a loved one again are steadily gaining, than, there are those that argue, why not love while you can.
But while love, perhaps better named lust, is seen more often, then joy is dying a slow death.
How often do we see a smile from our fellow citizens anymore? Or a friendly greeting? Instead, it is left to the children to pick up the fallen pieces of Tokyo's life, and smile, and play, and laugh…
It is only the young who retain Tokyo's spirit now.
They are the only ones who live life regardless. Who retain a social life, laughing in the slowly degenerating malls of Tokyo, as the young are wont to do.
It is our sincere hope that they can keep Tokyo alive.
Or we will have lost.