Author's Note: Okay, I know I've been a little slow lately, but look on the bright side – at least it didn't take a month! (lol) Even in the summertime it seems that life just can't resist throwing up roadblocks (the list of which I won't bore you with at this time – big cheer all around!).
Anyway, it's late so I'll try to keep this note brief – I have to get up tomorrow morning for a recording session, which means that as of now I have about…(let's see, carry the one, add 3 million, then divide by…yep, that's it)…five and a half hours to sleep – assuming I fall asleep this instant, which is not going to happen (--grin--).
HMPrune: lol – I never thought of it that way! (--imitates corny announcer's voice--) Tune in next week for more adventures on…Missing in Action! (--grin--)
Chibi Horsewoman: Of course, the whole 'name, rank, and serial number' thing…I've heard it in movies and on TV, but I completely forgot about it (he-he…oops --grin--). But like you said, I have no idea if it was in effect at the time (could it even have been part of the Geneva Convention maybe?). Then again, Inuyasha isn't exactly your average GI, so who knows if he would even have paid attention to it in the first place. (--shrugs--) I dunno…
Kaoru Mitsumi: I love chocolate! Can I have some?! (--grin--)
Fallen-Snow: First off, just to let you know in case I haven't already, I did get your email and it's saved on my desktop just waiting for me to get a chance to reply to it (which I'm looking forward to – is there anything better than a literary debate? I love the smell of semantics in the morning…lol – can you tell I'm sleep deprived? Ignore me --grin--). Second, glad you like my Kikyo – I have the most fun writing her in this one! She's exactly the sort of character (here) that I love to play (I've probably said that before, but I don't care) – all cool and collected and focused, yet with a darkness to her nature that makes her just that much more mysterious and elusive. She's not a woman to be loved, but worshipped. (I'm rambling again…) Third, I know exactly what you mean about being 'graphical' – it's just good sense to go for the most vulnerable spot (--grin--). Though I think women are more likely to stoop to that 'technique' because we can't sympathize with that particular pain -- you know? (--shrugs--) That's my theory anyway -- guys never seem to use it (in movies and stuff I mean)! Finally, the 'it's time' thing between Naraku and Kikyo was just him telling her to come downstairs for the interrogation. Whew! TTFN!
Crystal Music: A writing camp? Awesome! Oh, and glad you appreciated the comparison of Naraku's voice to velvet – I liked that one myself (--grin--). And I see what you mean about the Mir/San stuff coming off as a side note – I guess I was just so focused on Inu's plight that I didn't pay their part as much attention as I probably should have. I'd intended it as a sort of point-counterpoint relationship, but I think I lost sight of that idea somewhere along the way. Oh well…
tk293: Seriously? Cool…I'll have to remember to give Kikyo and Naraku more airtime then…
Izayoi: (--grin--) Glad you like it! Love ya!
Missing in ActionChapter 13: Flights of Angels
Inuyasha's eyes took on a hollow look, his mouth gone dry as the word 'execution' seemed to echo in his gradually dizzying mind -- the poison's effect was increasing, but not to the point of obscuring the weight of this most recent revelation. Indeed it brought it that much more into focus.
"Where is the antidote?" he questioned Naraku's retreating back in a growl, and the man paused, glancing toward Kikyo, who had remained so silent throughout the proceedings that Inuyasha had all but forgotten she was there. She nodded, apparently understanding his silent instructions, and the General turned back to answer his prisoner.
"It will be administered to you upon your safe return to your cell. Pleasant dreams, Inuyasha," he finished smirkingly and disappeared from the room, though the silver-haired hanyou stood abruptly, fury in his eyes, clearly intent on following him. But a wave of dizziness, accompanied by a particularly sharp knife of pain in his abdomen prevented him from going any further with his ambitions, and he was soon being hustled back into the corridor by a pair of soldiers who had appeared beside him, led by Kikyo who was toting a small black bag.
The hanyou stumbled several times, his balance thrown off by the substance coursing through his veins, blinking and gritting his teeth in an effort to stave of the agonizing headache building between his ears. He had to get out of this somehow -- he had to find Kagome, to save her. If anything happens to her, it's my fault. It was my fault she was caught in the first place. But he would be useless to her in such a state. If only he had the-
All at once, his eyes focused on the little black bag clutched in Kikyo's left hand. Of course -- it must contain the antidote! But how might he go about laying hands on it before they reached his cell...
Planning never having been his strong suit -- especially when he had fifty 'cc's of cyanide in his bloodstream -- Inuyasha went with his instincts instead. Loosening his muscles slightly to give the impression that he was weakening ever more quickly, thereby tempting the soldiers on each arm to lower their guard, he suddenly summoned every bit of strength and speed he had left to slip his arms from their grasp, crouch slightly and pull his elbows back with force, eliciting whimpers of pain from the pair of men as they doubled over. He wasted no time in kicking each in the head to knock them unconscious just as Kikyo turned back to see what the commotion was all about. But by then the hanyou had retrieved the guards' pistols from their holsters, and trained them both on the woman before him, amber eyes dark with menace, his jaw clenched and breathing uneven, body shaking slightly with the intense pain he was experiencing -- but he held it at bay, determined to complete his mission. "Give it to me," he growled dangerously, "or I will kill you."
"Kill me then," she replied in a devilishly confident voice just barely above a whisper, and yet so silky smooth and calm that he could hear it as if it had simply appeared in his mind without her actually uttering the words. For a moment they merely stood there in a deadlock, unmoving, observing each other for any signs of capitulation. Finally Kikyo said in that same soft voice, her eyes like black mirrors in the low light, watching him yet revealing nothing from within, "You'll never find her. She's as good as dead right now."
Inuyasha growled and lunged at her, securing his left-hand pistol in the back waistband of his cargo pants, using the now free hand to snatch the bag from her grip vehemently, yet all she did was smirk slightly as he glared at her, inches from her face.
"I knew you couldn't do it," she said with a subtle yet biting contempt. They both knew he couldn't bring himself to hurt her, but likewise there was nothing she could do to stop him from escaping...yet.
He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him in his tracks. "This place is a labyrinth, Inuyasha. At this rate, neither one of you will make it out alive; it's hopeless."
"Not for me," he growled without looking back, and took of at a slow run, the most he could manage for the time being. He took the first turn he could find, then several more, intent on getting as far away from the route they'd been taking as he could -- the more lost he was, the longer it would take for the soldiers to find him, once Kikyo got word of his escape back to Naraku.
Finding himself in a particularly shadowy corridor and quickly running out of breath and strength -- for his recent activity could only be speeding up the poison's spread -- he collapsed against the wall, falling to his knees with the bag before him. His ears strained for sounds of trouble as he ripped open the container and began to dig through it fervently. Most of the equipment within -- bottles of substances with complicated names and various instruments for combining and administering them, so it seemed -- was utterly unrecognizable to him, and he began to panic, wondering what horrible effects the alien compounds might have should he choose the wrong one.
But then, much to his relief, he discovered a syringe that was already prepared and labeled 'Sodium thiosulfate.' All his high school chemistry could tell him was that it apparently contained sodium and sulfur -- no, sulfate, because sulfate was an ion, and sulfur would have made the compound's name Sodium thiosulfide -- but that made no difference, because he didn't have the slightest idea what it was supposed to do anyway.
He eyed the syringe dubiously, glancing from it, back the way he had come, and back to it again, considering. Finally he took a deep breath and muttered apprehensively, "Here goes nothing," as he plunged the needle into his vein with a wince and drained the liquid from the tube. That done, he removed the needle and tossed it to the floor closing his eyes and clenching his fist, pulling his arm tightly to his chest and praying that he had made the right choice.
The moments ticked by and Inuyasha waited, still no sign of anyone in pursuit. But soon, he could almost swear that the pounding in his skull had begun to lessen slightly, the shooting pains in his abdomen growing duller and less frequent. He opened his golden eyes slowly and glanced down at the arm into which he had injected the compound. I did it...
All at once his left ear swiveled in the direction from which he had come, the slightest of far off noises having alerted his senses, and he recalled his mission. He got to his feet, leaving the bag and it's contents there on the floor, for they were of no further use to him.
Inuyasha took off down the corridor at a run, his hanyou blood aiding the antidote in it's quest to neutralize the poison and hastening his recovery, though he was far from peak condition. Still, without the bag or the hindrance of the toxin he was able to devote his full attention to his senses, straining to detect the faintest sign of Kagome -- a scent, a sound...anything. All the while he could hear the soldiers in the corridors behind him, still out of sight, but steadily gaining -- they knew these halls better than he, and didn't make the mistake of turning down dead ended corridors as he did. Besides, if Naraku was half the strategist he appeared to be he would almost certainly be using their number to great advantage, splitting them into groups when they weren't sure which direction he had gone. After all, hanyou or not, it wouldn't take an army to kill Inuyasha -- one well-aimed bullet would be enough. He could only hope that the Nazis on his tail were lousy shots.
At long last Inuyasha's nose picked up the faintest scent of vanilla. "Kagome..." he murmured, pausing to locate its source before hurtling down the corridor to his left. The scent grew stronger and stronger as he approached, but he could see nothing -- there were no doors, no break in the solid grey stone lining his path.
Finally the hallway came to a 'T' with another, broader corridor, and turning to his right he could see a heavy iron door directly at the end. That was it; she had to be there.
But just as he began to approach the door, a shot rang out from behind him and he ducked instinctively, throwing up his arms and stumbling to the ground as the sound of lead ricocheting off iron echoed through the corridor. In a flash he was surrounded by soldiers, their heavy, black, standard-issue combat boots thundering ominously against the cool stone. Yet there was one rhythm in the cacophony of footsteps that was different: it was slow and measured, unhurried and unmistakable. The silver-haired hanyou knelt on the ground, lifting eyes of molten gold to meet gazes with none other than Naraku.
There was a cruel shadow of a smile behind the demon's deadly scarlet irises as he said with smug yet indisputable certainty, "It is over, Inuyasha; I told you that you would be unable to help her."
"As long as she's alive, I won't give up. I can save her," Inuyasha countered, ever one to dispute the indisputable. "I know she's here -- I can smell her, just beyond the door."
Naraku's subtle yet haunting smirk grew ever so slightly. "You are a fool. Do you know what is beyond that door? It is a one-way portal -- prisoners pass through it, but they do not return. She has been taken there to die."
Horror clenched at Inuyasha's stomach, a sudden feeling of panic and dread washing over him. She had been taken there to... No, he thought desperately, No, I won't let it happen. I can stop them...
Getting to his feet, he narrowed his gaze with determination and opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment the unequivocal sound of rapid gunfire -- multiple rifle discharges -- came from beyond the door, muffled by lead and stone, yet cutting him to the quick as he realized what it must mean.
All of the blood drained from his face, and for a moment all he could do was stand like a stone, staring into space, an expression of devastation apparent from the depths of his amber eyes, wide with shock. "Kagome..." he whispered hoarsely.
Then, as quickly as it had left him, his spirit and anger returned ten-fold, so terrible that he shook with the force of it. "You killed her," he growled venomously, annoyed to receive no more than a raise of the eyebrow in return. "I'll kill you, you bastard!"
At these words he brandished the two weapons he'd scavenged from his guards, but instead of following through on his threat to murder the general, who merely continued to observe him as though fully aware of the hanyou's true intent, he aimed at the soldiers surrounding. All at once it was pure bedlam, adrenaline and anger taking control so that he was hardly aware of what he was doing, acting almost entirely on instinct. Guns were fired, but with so many soldiers in a relatively confined space, all aiming at the same target, the hanyou found he actually had an advantage. The soldiers were reluctant to risk killing their comrades, so their movement was somewhat restricted, and if Inuyasha kept close to the soldiers as he fought his way, bullet and claw, to the door he was able to dodge their shots with ease.
A couple of gunshots released the latch on the door, and the silver-haired hanyou burst into a barren, gravel-paved courtyard that reeked of death, catching his first glimpse of the sky in days, the clouds appearing as though soaked in blood for their harsh pink hue. As he ran across the courtyard and scaled the high stone wall opposite he tried desperately to ignore the lingering scent of blood in the air, the telltale stains and bullet marks covering the wall to his right, and the faint trace of sweet vanilla that was so out of place in the morbid setting.
At long last he reached the top of the wall and hopped down from it to the much-closer ground -- apparently the courtyard was a sort of pit, dug deep beneath the surface -- disregarding the protests of his still-healing and rapidly tiring body as he bounded away into the surrounding forests.
Far below him Naraku watched calmly, his expression unchanged from the quiet, pitiless amusement he had displayed all the while.
"Shall we pursue him, sir?" questioned his lieutenant, but the general shook his head slowly and turned to go inside, replying in his darkly supple voice, "Let him go; he is of no threat or usefulness to us any longer. There is nothing left for him to seek here."
-- -- --
The sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving the world cloaked in the eerie middle-blue shade of twilight, when the day had ended but the night had yet to fully set in. Inuyasha sat perched high in a tree, above the realm that prying eyes were most likely to search, far from the courtyard and the labyrinthine tunnels that must have spread beneath half of Asile, to have an outlet so far afield. He had run through the dense forest without thought of direction, his mind focused wholly on his escape in order to close out all else, but when the scents died away, assuring him that he was well and truly alone, and his still recovering body had begged him for rest, the adrenaline that had fueled him quickly spent, he had taken to the trees for cover. Now there was nothing to stand between him and his grief.
"Kagome..." he whispered into the half-dark. She was gone -- he knew it. Her scent was unmistakable, and the mere thought of how it's gentle innocence had been mixed with the stench of blood and terror and gunpowder that hung low over that hellish courtyard, drained of it's life and vivacity, was enough to make him ill.
The hanyou fisted clawed hands in his long silver tresses, golden eyes squeezed shut against tears of frustration and anger. He should have been there for her! He should have been able to save her, should have protected her with his life, if necessary. Self-directed fury lanced through him as swiftly as the poison had done, wounding him just as deeply; only this was a wound of the mind and the soul, not of the body.
She died...because of me, he thought darkly. If it hadn't been for me none of this would've ever happened. Oh god, Kagome, can you ever forgive me? Can I ever forgive myself?
What was he supposed to do now? Sango and Miroku would be returning before long, surely, if they hadn't already. They would be wondering what had befallen the two of them, and it would be better all around if they were to learn of Kagome's death from him rather than by other means. He didn't even want to think about the horrific picture the Nazis were likely to paint of her -- a spy, a treacherous whore who got only what she deserved. They would make an example of her, use her death to frighten others into submission. Or even worse, they might simply erase her from existence, dismissing her life in its entirety as though she had never walked the earth to begin with.
She may not have been perfect -- he knew that very well, of course -- but somehow all he could seem to remember of her was her goodness, her sweetness, her strength. He tried to remember his anger toward her days earlier, when he had discovered her betrayal of sorts, thinking selfishly that if only he could resent her the pain would become less somehow. But despite his efforts, the simple fact of her death caused all such conflicts to pale in comparison. All he knew was that he would never look upon her face again, and that thought in itself was killing him inside.
-- -- --
Sango and Miroku had returned to find the cafe dark and empty, an eerie stillness about the place giving one the sense of unfinished business, as though the entire building were haunted by the spirits of lives interrupted and sent awry.
The young woman's brown eyes flitted about apprehensively and an obscure yet prominent worry creased her face. "Something's not right," she whispered to the man standing close behind her.
"I know," was all he could think to say in response, his voice grim and dark with concern.
That was when another voice spoke up from the shadows at the very back of the room, startling the pair, for neither had observed the figure, so still and silent had he been until now. "She's dead." The words were like gravel under footsteps heavy with remorse, grumbled low and mournfully but with a dismal conviction.
Sango's blood ran cold and she raised a stunned hand to her mouth at the message, recognizing the voice and the shadowy profile from whence it came. "Inuyasha, is that you? Is she...is Kagome really...?" she inquired softly, incapable of speaking the words aloud. There was no response. "Oh my god..." She barely felt it as Miroku's arms encircled her shoulders bracingly, comfortingly, so numb was she with shock. Kagome was dead? How could that be true? How could things have changed so much so quickly?
Drawing in a sharp breath as astonishment slowly gave way to anguish, the woman slid her arms around her love and pressed her face into his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline, and he tightened his hold on her in response as they shared the pain of their sudden loss.
But across the room in the shadows sat Inuyasha, utterly alone in his despair, his amber eyes dark and staring with the look of a child who has lost his only friend, or a man who has lost his only love. All he had for company were his sorrows and a tall bottle of very cheap wine in which he prayed he would be able to drown them.
-- -- --
A/N: Man this stuff is heavy. Please, somebody let me know if I'm laying it on too thick…I swear I won't get mad if you say it's crap…(--grin--)
By the way, does anyone recognize the line '…only this was a wound of the mind and the soul, not of the body,'? Because as I was writing it I got this feeling of déjà vu, as if I'd either written it or read it somewhere before. Weird, huh? Did I use it in Alter Ego or something? I dunno…
Anyway, review pretty please! Oh, and I recently heard about this new fic contest site called Protégé, and I'd love a nomination if you're willing to give it (--grin-- I'm so subtle, aren't I? He-he…). Before I wake up and start kicking myself for campaigning, I'll just tell you that the url is at the bottom of my bio, if you want to check it out. Incidentally, there are links to a lot of great fics there, so even if you don't want to nominate me (for which I wouldn't blame you after such a shameless plea…) you should give it a look. Okay, shutting up now…
Bye! (I now have four and a half hours before I have to get up…the author's notes took an hour to do! Geeze…)