Chickahominy Creek
Of All Possible Worlds
Chapter 5: Quivering Melody
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
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Sesshoumaru's eyes snapped open as he felt something wriggling against his chest. Before he could register what had awoken him, his hand came up and grabbed for what was causing the irritation. His palm came into contact with a thick pelt of fir and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found himself looking at a pair of piercing green eyes.
With the exception of a slash of white over one eye, the cat was completely black and blended in extremely well with the darkness of the room. The creature swished its tail back and forth and despite the grip he had on it, no sound of protest was drawn forth. Instead, it seemed to absorb him with its emerald eyes; slit pupils narrowed.
A thrust of his hand sent the cat sprawling to the floor. He heard a light thump as it hit the ground, landing on its feet, and scampered. The demon lord swung his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately began dressing himself, throwing on the familiar billowing layers, missing his armor, which unfortunately had not followed him into this nightmare. When the obi was tied in place, he grabbed Tokajin from where it leaned against the wall and secured it at his side.
The girl was still asleep in the other room. He could hear the slight intakes of even breathing from the other side of the wall and her heart beat in the steady pulse of sleep. Although there was no light in the room, Sesshoumaru knew that dawn approached and he wanted to explore this world the miko had sealed him in. Perhaps if he knew enough, he would be able to find a way out, and with her currently unaware of what was happening while she dreamed, he would be able to depart unnoticed.
Except for the cat. The black-haired creature stared up at him from the floor, following him carefully with slight movements of its head. Sesshoumaru glided toward the door and heard the steady padding of light feet behind him.
Weak light seeped between the curtains, casting the room in a dim haze. Sesshoumaru briefly considered the front door, but quickly banished the idea—he did not know what was beyond that. There was only one door that he knew for sure led to an exit.
First, however, there was another matter to attend to. His father's swords still rested upon the table. Although he rarely used the blade, Tenseiga was his and as such, it should remain with him. The sword soon lay beside Tokajin.
The demon lord threw aside the curtains and moved the glass door aside. He had managed to tone down the sounds and smells during the night, but with all barriers removed between himself and this world he had been thrust into, the chaos came back in full force. Despite himself, Sesshoumaru winced and covered his ears.
Never before had he heard such clamor—it was deafening. Slowly, the demon forced himself to adjust and tone down the noise to a tolerable level. When he could listen without the barrier of his hands, he moved to the edge of the balcony, staring down at the awakening city beneath his feet.
The miko told him last night that there were no demons left in "modern Tokyo." Although he wanted to deny it, the thought alone unsettled him even if there was no possible way such circumstances could occur. Demons, exterminated—preposterous. It was laughable. Humans simply were not capable of defeating his race. Such creatures with no physical defenses, little strength and short life spans stood no chance against him.
Yet—Sesshoumaru could smell no trace of his brethren. Then again, this was a mere image created by a weak woman. It was likely that what he sensed wasn't real. Yes, a mere illusion that he would have to break. No one, absolutely no one, captured the ruler of The Western Lands and imprisoned him against his will—especially not a weak miko.
Sesshoumaru growled softly and gripped his swords, making sure that the two weapons at his side were secured. Then, with a natural grace, he braced his hand on the rail and vaulted over, racing the wind toward the streets below.
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Kagome blinked as dappled flecks of sunlight hit her eyes with the full force of morning. Her watch alarm was going off, and she suspected that it had been beeping for some time. The dial was reading eight-fifteen—it had been going off for the last half hour. She jammed the button on the side and sat up, throwing the covers in a heap at the end of the futon. Every muscle in her body was complaining. It had been a long time since she had had to sleep on the floor.
She frowned when she thought of the reason she had been forced out of her bed last night. There was no noise coming from the room on the other side of her office door, and there was no way to tell whether her unexpected guest had awoken from his slumber yet or not. Recalling what she knew of demons in the Feudal Era, however, she thought it likely. He'd probably been up with the dawn.
After refolding the futon and returning it to its place in the closet, Kagome padded across the floor and out into the living room. She opened the door cautiously, expecting to see Sesshoumaru somewhere on the other side, but the room beyond the door was eerily quiet. Her heart began pounding at this revelation and she shoved the door the rest of the way open, striding into the middle of the room until she had a full view of her whole apartment. The living room was still and nothing seemed out of place. The kitchen was likewise deserted, the dishes from last night still sitting in the sink.
With increasing uneasiness, Kagome raced to her room, hoping that the demon lord was still in her bed asleep. Her hands shook as they hovered over the doorknob, partly because she was afraid of not finding him there, and partly because the thought of waking up a full demon from sleep in a strange place did not appeal to her first thing in the morning. Kagome took a deep breath to calm herself and gently pushed the door open.
The bed looked like it had never been slept in. The sheets and covers were neatly tucked under just as she had left them with the pillows on top. Not a single wrinkle could be found in the fabric. Every speck of evidence betraying that Sesshoumaru had spent the night in her room was gone, not a hair was left.
Kagome's hand dropped from the doorknob as she stood in the doorway, staring ahead in shock. She swallowed thickly and rapidly moved to the coffee table where she had set Tetsuaiga and Tenseiga the previous night. Inuyasha's sword hadn't moved from its position, but the Tenseiga was gone from its side.
Kagome sat down on the couch as she felt her knees give out. "Damn."
There was a demon, a full-fledged demon lord, loose in twenty-first century Tokyo. Kagome's mind couldn't fathom what Sesshoumaru could possibly do in the city. How many lives would be lost before he was finally subdued…if he was subdued? And he had Tokajin with him. A cursed sword capable of massive destruction…
Stop! Kagome gave herself a firm mental shake. He won't destroy the city. Although the thought sounded ridiculous, she couldn't help but find truth in it. Yes, Sesshoumaru was a powerful demon, but he hadn't killed needlessly in the past. He wasn't overly fond of humans in any degree, but he had never gone and slaughtered whole villages either. If anything, he usually ignored them.
Besides, it wasn't like she could do anything about it anyway. Not only did she have a book signing in a matter of hours, but even with her miko powers aiding her, there was no way she could find such a powerful demon if he didn't want to be found. Of course, that also applied to anyone else in the city as well. Despite his feudal garb, Kagome had no doubt that the people of Tokyo would never notice the demon in their midst. And if something did happen, at least she wouldn't have to go through the trouble of tracking him down.
With a shaky breath, Kagome managed to calm her rapidly beating heart. She couldn't afford to worry about Sesshoumaru right now. Even under the present circumstances, she still had a life that she was not ready to watch crumble before her eyes, not when she had worked so hard to rebuild it from the ground up.
The clock on the microwave was reading fifteen till nine. With renewed determination, Kagome went about her morning routine—a quick breakfast, an equally speedy shower before getting dressed, and a final once over before walking out the door.
There was a demon loose in Tokyo, but for once, The Feudal Age would have to work with her schedule.
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Chidori's Restless Haven, or as the students called it "Haven," was one of the most popular gathering places in the western part of Tokyo. Located three blocks from the university, it was a niche in the city carved for those looking for a place to fall away from the rest of the world. It was five stories high and simultaneously housed a music and dance club, book store, and coffee shop. The apartments above were periodically rented out to local artists, many of whom either had worked displayed at Haven or performed within its walls. The first floor, which was the coffee and book shop, was lined ceiling to floor with paintings from local artists.
This afternoon, however, there was a sign out front, announcing the appearance of a special guest—the author of A Feudal Fairy Tale.
Kagome stood on the sidewalk for a moment, not quite ready to walk through yet. Entering Haven was walking into a different world. During her studies, Kagome had come across the concept of a veil between worlds, such as the one used between Ireland's Sidhe world and the world populated by mortals. Under normal circumstances, the barrier between the world of magic and the world of man could not be crossed, but on certain nights in chosen places, one could move between the veil, along roads woven of magic and dreams to another place both similar yet so otherworldly that it is hardly recognizable as reality. Such tales had always been Kagome's favorites. To many of her classmates, the tales of Ireland's otherworld were unbelievable, but Kagome never dismissed them as ludicrous. After all, they were no more ludicrous than jumping down a well connecting to The Feudal Era.
Haven was an other-realm in itself. The building separated the life of the busy Tokyo streets and the calm atmosphere of colorful and imaginative sights and sounds. Entering the complex, Kagome was stolen from the noisy din outside into the soft whispers of Haven's main room. People sat at wooden tables about the coffee shop, drinking beverages from the bar and talking amongst themselves, relaxed and carefree. Like the paintings that dotted the walls, the people were a variety of characters, ranging from businessmen on their lunch breaks in their pressed suits and ties, decked in black from head to foot, to the resident artists in vibrant ensembles that were wrinkled or covered in paint. Men and woman, ranging in age from the young teens to well into retirement gathered in every corner.
Kagome's eyes swept the room until she caught sight of a familiar face amongst the black suited businessmen. Yuki, seated midway between the bar and the stage where a new band was just beginning set up, caught her wandering amongst the crowd and motioned her over.
Beside her with his hands folded on top of the table was a tall wiry man in a loose white buttoned shirt. His long black hair was tied back in a messy knot at the nape of his neck, the end draped over one shoulder. He followed Yuki's gaze and caught Kagome's form in the front entrance. The grin he flashed her was warm and he gave her a brief nod.
Yuki and her companion stood when Kagome made it to the table. "Kagome, this is Shu Nazeki, the co-owner of Haven."
Nazeki bowed. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Higurashi. My wife and I are big fans. I can not tell you what an honor it is to have you in our establishment at last. We have waited a long time."
Kagome bowed in return, but her mind was working overtime. The owner appeared pleasant enough, but his last words put her on edge. She had not been famous for what she considered a "long time." Perhaps it was due to her time traveling experience. For someone who had spent years going back and forth between epochs simply by jumping down a hole in the ground, a little over a year would seem like a short gap. Likely, he was just trying to be polite.
Her mind calmed with the rational thoughts. The side of her that faced reality, the more logical side, had taken hold—unfortunately, her logical side seemed to be losing to the irrational lately. The effect of the recent events involving Sesshoumaru and the two swords was enough to cause a case of acute paranoia in anyone.
She shrugged off her uneasy feelings and offered him a smile of her own. "I am glad to be here."
Nazeki nodded once and then gestured towards a long table weighed down by dozens of her latest book next to the stage. "Everything is ready for you Miss Higurashi, however, you are not scheduled to appear for at least another fifteen minutes, so if you would like to have a seat here until it is time for the signing to begin, you are more than welcome to. Have a cup of coffee on the house and listen to the next group. I assure you, they're quite spectacular. The lead player is particularly apt."
"Thank you."
"No, thank you." He bowed again. "Now, if you would excuse me, I have to be behind the bar by the start of the next performance. I have assigned two of my employees to help with the signing. They should arrive in another few minutes or so. Please let me know if there is anything I can get you."
As Nazeki walked away, Kagome and Yuki took seats at the table.
"This is excellent Kagome," Yuki said, eyes shining. Although she had been calm in front of Nazeki, her friend couldn't hide the rising excitement in her voice. Kagome had to admit that the excitement was contagious. Butterflies were beginning to blossom in her stomach, too.
"Do you have any idea what this is going to do for sales?"
Kagome held back a small chuckle. "No, I don't. Probably not much. People have already read these books. I'm just glad that sales went as high as they did."
"It doesn't matter that people have already read them! Given your popularity, that should actually increase the number of people here today. Yes, everyone has read the book, but now they can get a signed copy."
"Which probably won't be worth anything."
"It shows they appreciate your work."
One of the waiters brought them two steaming mugs of hot coffee and Kagome took it graciously, immediately bringing the mug to her lips. "I suppose that's true. I am glad that people enjoy my work." Even if I wrote it more for myself than for them.
She was about to elaborate when a voice behind her caught her attention. "Kagome? I thought you would be signing by now?" Midori Ashitaki leaned in beside her, offering Kagome a wide smile.
A beat later, Hojo appeared at his sister's shoulder, resting a hand on the table so he too could lean down. "The sign outside says the signing begins at twelve. She still has a couple of minutes, Midori."
"Yes, just enough to enjoy a cup of coffee. What are you two doing here?"
"Hojo wanted to come for your signing," Midoriko answered, giving her brother a small shove. Hojo returned it with an annoyed glance, his face taking on a hint of crimson.
Kagome arched an eyebrow in surprise. He had come for her signing? She felt something in her jump at the thought. With all that had occurred, she thought that he would have remained at the dig sight trying to sort things out, but here he was, leaning over her table, grinning down at her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Honestly, she was a bit flattered. This was a man who was nearly her boyfriend in high school, would have been her boyfriend had circumstances allowed it. Looking up at him now, she couldn't help but feel at faint flicker of hope.
Kagome was knocked out of her thoughts by a cough from across the table. Yuki was staring at her hesitantly, glancing from the woman sitting across from her, to the man standing over her, to the woman between them. "Yuki, sorry. I'm sure you recall Hojo Akitaki," Kagome said, indicating Hojo who gave Yuki a brief nod. Yuki's eyes widened at the mention of Hojo's name, obviously as surprised as Kagome by some of the changes. "And this is his sister Midori. Hojo, Midori, Yuki is my editor and a long-time friend."
Midori took a step back and bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
After brief introductions and a quick explanation, Yuki again swept her gaze between Hojo and Kagome. She gave her friend a sly grin and Kagome felt her heart speed up when she pushed her chair away.
"Well, I could use another cup of coffee. I'm getting a refill." Yuki tossed Midori a quick glance and then walked toward the bar. Midori must have gotten the message because a second later, the brown-haired woman excused herself and made her way toward the restrooms next to the stage.
For a moment, the two remaining at the table remained silent. Hojo pulled over a chair and took a seat, leaning into it with a sigh. "They've known each other for five minutes and already they're collaborating."
"It seems so." Kagome took another sip of coffee, taking more time with it than she would have otherwise required. Another second of silence went by. "So, how's the dig?" A touchy subject, but better than others she could have chosen.
"The dig is great, as well as it can be. I gave the workers a few days off, but most of them didn't take it. They seem to have gotten it into their heads that not finishing the dig on time would be a waste of two lives."
"Right—that's good of them," Kagome replied.
"It is." He removed his glasses, fumbling with them a little as he toyed with the corners. She now had a clear view of his eyes—calm, earnest eyes. "Listen, Kagome, you and I both know that I didn't come here to talk about the dig." He took a deep breath and closed the ends of his glasses with a soft snap. "My feelings haven't changed Kagome. You know how I thought about you in high school and…you were going through so much at the time, so I didn't really ask…and now…"
"And now would be a good time?" Kagome finished. I don't think it would ever be a good time.
Hojo shook his head. "No, probably not. With everything going on this isn't that much better, but still."
Something in her wanted to say yes. Yes because it meant that she had put everything else behind her. Yes because if she was with someone, maybe she would begin to forget. But that was the problem, she hadn't forgotten. Inuyasha still held fast to her heart and accepting Hojo while her heart was still captive, even to a memory, seemed wrong.
That was her answer. "Hojo, I'm sorry." She saw the disappointment in his face and she felt what was left of her heart tear. "It's not that I don't feel anything for you, I do, but there was someone else a while back. He's gone now, but I cannot forget him. I don't want to hurt you, Hojo. I'm sorry, but I think I still need some time."
To her surprise, the man beside her nodded in understanding. "It's okay." He put his glasses back on, breaking the spell that had been placed over the table. "Hell, it's nice to know that you feel something for me at all." Hesitantly, he reached out and grabbed one of her hands, giving it a light squeeze. "I can wait for you. As long as it takes. Perhaps though, you wouldn't object to seeing me from time to time?"
Kagome smiled. A few dates here and there actually sounded promising. "Of course."
Hojo looked as if he were about to say something else when a hush fell over the room. An eerie note cut through the stillness and though it was only the beginnings of a strain, Kagome could feel it almost as if it were a physical force—the jolt was so great that someone may as well have cut her with a knife. She could feel it catching in her throat and traveling through her body, flowing through her blood until it found a contented place in the recesses of her mind. Breathing became so hard that she had to put the mug down. Her eyes were drawn to the stage.
Two stage lights shown on a three member band, but despite the clear illumination of three human figures, Kagome's eyes were drawn immediately to the lithe figure in the center. It was a girl, her midnight hair shining dark blue in the lowlights, form draped over an instrument few would recognize. Though Kagome had never heard one played live before, she new immediately what it was—a shamisen. It was reminiscent of a guitar or a lute, but had a more slender neck and fewer strings attached to a round box at the bottom.
The woman swayed with the force of the music, her fingers flying over the Japanese instrument. The music being coaxed from the shamisen was not Japanese, however—it was Celtic. It was an odd combination, a traditional Celtic suite, light and carefree, combined with the sharp striking sounds of the shamisen. However, the effect was like rain falling on a sloped roof with a sharp initial tap then smooth and flowing.
The player was a master. She gave Kagome the impression of a siren, except she never opened her mouth and allowed her skillful fingers to enchant instead. The song had Kagome's heart pounding. It swept and rang, filling her with joy and excitement, building until she was about to burst. The skin on her arms was tingling, like they did when she activated her miko powers, but it was not unpleasant. The chords wrapped around her, laughing and tingling as they enfolded her in their essence. She felt like she had just jumped into a warm flowing stream. It wanted to pull her away, and she let it, allowing herself to flow along with the tide.
When the final note faded, Kagome was not surprised to find herself wiping tears from her eyes. Yuki, who had returned from the bar in the middle of the piece, was just one thread shy of bawling while simultaneously trying her hardest not to laugh. Her friend pulled a handkerchief from her purse and began dabbing her eyes.
The hush remained over the room at the end of the piece and the woman remained hunched over her instrument. She raised her head a fraction and stared straight at Kagome. Across the room, Kagome's dark eyes met with clear violet orbs. A slight pink haze began to surround her vision and she recognized her miko powers surfacing, but oddly enough, she felt no panic over it. The woman grinned and dropped her shamisen.
Suddenly, the audience was on its feet, clapping with a few cries of "encore." Kagome found herself swept up with them, the impact of violet eyes temporarily forgotten.
A hand brushed up against her shoulder and Kagome spun around and confronted two men in Haven uniforms, white t-shirt and khaki pants. "We are ready for you to begin now Miss Higurashi."
Kagome cleared her throat, still trying to find a voice. "Yes, of course. Lead the way."
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"Nabuo, can you pack up the sound equipment?"
Nabuo snapped the clasps on his guitar case shut and slung the instrument over his shoulder before rising. "Sure thing Nightingale. You want them on the truck first?"
The violet eyed musician in front of him nodded. "Yeah, it's the heaviest. Come to think of it, you may want to ask Rione to help you."
"Sure thing." Nightingale thanked him and walked in the direction of the bar. Probably needs to speak with the manager. Nabuo did not immediately start packing up the equipment, however. Instead, he watched Nightingale walk away from him, her long black hair falling down her slim back in silken waves. It swayed slightly as she walked.
Nabuo swallowed thickly and tried to catch his breath. The way she ensnared him was so natural. She had his heart racing and she wasn't even trying. The woman was almost inhuman in appearance with her raven locks, violet eyes and pixie face. Nightingale was gorgeous—and she had him under her little finger. He had been attempting for a solid week to ask her out, but so far had yet to display any relationship besides friendship.
And that was a golden opportunity right there! Nabuo cursed silently. It had been perfect. There was no one else backstage, the adrenaline from the performance was still running high and with all the rush in trying to get everything off stage and onto the truck, no one would have noticed that the lead guitar and shamisen player were absent. Now, he would have to wait for another chance.
In frustration, he yanked the chord to the guitar amp out of the socket and began bundling it up. When Nightingale said sound equipment, she didn't mean much: three amps, their connectors, cables and the mixer. It would only take him minutes to load everything into the truck in the back parking lot.
He was throwing the last surge protector into the crate when something next to the curtain caught his eye. He stopped, his hand hovering just over the box. A shadow rushed over the lights and Nabuo gripped the surge protector tighter. His muscles tensed, ready to move. "I know you're there."
Something moved on his left and Nabuo pivoted, eyes focused on a gap between the curtains. The rungs holding up the heavy material shuttered, the clack of metal on metal louder than it ought to have been. He wanted to look up, but he didn't dare take his eyes off the curtains.
At last, the shadows took form. A pair of slender legs and hips encased in tight jeans stepped into the light, hesitating for a moment before continuing. High heeled boots clicked as they encountered hollow wood, drawing steadily closer, revealing more—loose white tunic style top, long neck and dark woodland eyes. The girl was stunning in the light, with her lips parted ever so slightly and a question in her eyes. With the light framing her, she looked like something out of one of his wildest daydreams.
Nabuo blinked and dropped the surge protector. "You're not supposed to be here. Are you lost? I can help you find your way back if you want."
The dream creature moved closer. Nabuo shuttered, feeling a draft of cold air. They must have turned up the air conditioning after the performance. He told himself that was it. The lights made the stage very uncomfortable, especially in the middle of the summer.
The girl held out one slender limb, a pale, thin hand that reached out towards him. "Will you help me?" Her voice was soft. It sang out and washed over him. Blood pounded in his ears and without any thought, he felt his own arm raising. Never had he felt so heavy. It was like the air was too thick to move in, to voluminous to push aside. Finally, skin met skin as his fingers glanced over hers. He had never touched such softness. The pads of her fingers were the texture of new roses. He stopped breathing. Their hands clasped, fingers intertwined.
Without warning, pain shot through the connection. Roses turned to needles that tore through the thin barriers of skin. Then it pulled. Nabuo screamed as his body went rigid. It was like claws reaching into him, blowing his mind to pieces. Memories flashed across his vision—a boy on a bicycle, a birthday cake, high school graduation, his parents, younger sister, the band…and then they were forgotten. He called out names, screamed for help, screamed until he couldn't even remember his own.
Lips crashed down on his, drinking ravenously from his mouth, sucking and pulling more until he was dry. He felt his body slacken. He tried to flee from the onslaught, but every path led to a wall. There was no chance of pulling away and everything darkened—the pained never lessened.
He could not tell when the lips left his, but he heard her soft voice, like an echo from far away. "Mine," she whispered.
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Never before had Sesshoumaru encountered anything remotely like Tokyo. After attempting to move through the city on foot, he had finally taken to summoning a demon cloud to carry him over the mob.
He recalled the human villages as being noisy, bustling places of constant activity, but those tiny groups of huts were nothing to the towering masses of steel and concrete. There were people everywhere, occupying every space possible, crammed together and trying to move in all directions at once while being guided by only the streets that ran up and down, under and over. It reminded him of mud sliding down a steep cliff at a crawl in the spring after the snows melted. The sludge was thick with rock and debris smashed together and like the flow of people, it was directed by deep gullies.
It had to be a different world. Not only were the humans dressed in similar attire as the miko, but they road around inside metal beasts that exhaled smoke and talked into tiny bugs that they held to their ears. Many had holes in their ears and wore odd paint to mask their faces. Signs with fire in them drew his attention as did the huge portraits plastered onto the sides of the many buildings. No one seemed to carry a weapon of any kind.
He had actually attempted to touch one of the metal beasts. It had been the color of a fire dragon scale, shimmering with a cold gleam. When his fingers graced the metal, a man standing beside it began yelling. The man's tone had made Sesshoumaru flex his clawed hands, but he restrained from harming the insolent fool. It was not the time to be causing trouble. He needed to study this new world before making any decisive actions.
Not only were the people he encountered rude, but they were nearly unintelligible. The demon lord was able to recognize the language spoken around him as his own, but the words and sounds used were difficult to distinguish. The pronunciation was off somehow and it took intense concentration to decipher a sentence. It was giving him a headache.
And the smell was worse.
Before he left, the miko stated that demons no longer existed in her world. Naturally, that was impossible. Demons would never allow what lay beneath him to happen unless it suited their own purposes. It was very likely that there was at least one in control somewhere, intermingled amongst the filth so as not to be detected. The demon lord had to admit, the human population was great, and a ruler would be wise to keep his servants in ignorance. Still, it was odd that even he had found no trace of such a creature.
Sesshoumaru crinkled his nose in disgust. Even from above he could still smell them on the air—the stench of human flesh would cover anything. His stomach clenched and he had to shake his head to clear it. The thought alone was nauseating. Wherever the demons were, their scent was heavily masked by the dominant human population. Yet another difficulty to add to his already impossible experience. It would be a challenge—he had been given worse.
The demon lord was flying towards the miko's home when a strain of sound made him stop in mid-flight. The melody of a shamisen reached his ears and he unconsciously gave the order for the cloud to lower until he could hear it clearly. Each pure tone hung in the air, as if pulling him down with a chain of melody, the same way a kite would be pulled in with string. The musician's skill was great, but it was not the talent, or the unknown song, that attracted the demon lord—it was the power laced into every coaxed note. It was familiar, though he couldn't place it yet. Probably because the energy was held in check. Whoever was playing was more than a skilled musician; this person had a powerful spirit as well.
The music stopped and the demon lord peered through the clouds. His gaze fell on a small building west of his position on the streets below and deciding that the laced power warranted an investigation at the very least, he ordered the cloud to fly towards the source.
He touched ground in an alleyway next to the building and softly crept towards the street, clinging to the wall in an attempt to stay out of sight. A keen ear caught the clamor of voices inside and sounds of constant movement. Despite his reservations, he took in a deep breath through his nose. A familiar smell overwhelmed his senses.
It was the not-Jasmine he had smelled the night before, in her room. Just perfect, the miko was inside. Sesshoumaru growled and one of his clawed fingers scraped the brick beneath his hand, leaving a deep gouge in the foundation.
He wouldn't let her presence affect his decision. As the Lord of the West, he had a right to be wherever he pleased. The miko would have to cope. However, lord or not, he still did not relish returning to that particular woman's sight. If his search through the city had indicated nothing else, it told him that until he knew more of her spell, he would have to stay close to her. I'll know more about her enchantment later. It won't take long to get her to talk. Sesshoumaru flexed his claws, a smirk gracing his features. Such soft flesh humans have. If she won't speak voluntarily, I simply… He finished the thought with an image of the miko at his feet, begging for her life. After all the frustration she had caused him, it was a pleasant picture. So long as he restrained the instinct to kill her so the woman could return him to his rightful place, such a plan would serve his purpose perfectly.
Sesshoumaru pushed the miko from his mind. He would deal with her later. Right now, he needed to find the source of that music.
As he exited the alleyway, a crash inside had his hand poised on Tokajin. Someone screamed and the widow nearest him shattered as a chair was thrown through it, sending glass into the streets. He drew his sword and ran towards the fray, doubting that anyone would notice his weapon in the commotion.
Cautiously, Sesshoumaru eased himself through the shattered glass and launched himself towards a raised platform against one wall where he could see everything happening within the room. Humans were running for every available exit, pushing and shoving to get out.
The demon lord quickly scanned the room, ignoring the panicked humans…mud. Another piece of furniture went flying and Sesshoumaru followed the trajectory to a man near his position. The man next to the platform appeared human, yet the man held one of the room's tables over his head as if it were no more than a pillow. Sesshoumaru had never encountered a human with such strength. The demon studied the man for a moment longer, inching closer.
He was attempting to throw the table, but several humans in white shirts surrounded him, grabbing onto the table in an attempt to lower it. The table-man was pushing against them, head lowered like a charging bull.
Something didn't smell right. Sesshoumaru had forgotten the powerful stench of human and focused instead on the cause of the commotion. The odor pushed through his mind, tugging on something he should have remembered. It was not a strong smell, a mere trace of something much larger. He was tempted to get closer, but as of yet, his presence had not been noted and for the time being, it was best to keep it that way.
Suddenly, the man glanced up, giving Sesshoumaru a perfect look at his face. The features were blank and whiter than alabaster. Eyes that held only darkness bore into him and he felt a cold shock run up his spine. All the pieces fell into place in his mind and it left him reeling in shock. He filtered through the memories of the month before awakening in the miko's home and scowled. He knew that odor now, and it further complicated his situation.
The man froze as he focused on something just beyond the men barricading him in. The demon followed the line of sight until he caught a familiar shock of black hair moving away from him—the miko. Sesshoumaru saw the man's movement just before the table went flying, and a fraction before the woman turned with wide eyes to see the wooden missile barreling toward her.
Sesshoumaru leaped from the platform.
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Kagome had been rising from her seat at the table beside Hojo and walking towards the signing table when the man, whom she vaguely recognized as the band's guitarist, ripped the stage door off its hinges and flung it into the audience. The door had been a rock thrown into still water. The room's occupants rose simultaneously, throwing themselves out of their seats, sending chairs and dishes to the floor.
Now, the room was in an uproar as everyone tried to shove passed everyone else to get away from the stage area and out the door into the street. Kagome was no exception. Her tiny body was being crushed by the masses bearing down on her.
Kagome's heart raced as she attempted to push her way through the crowd. She had lost Hojo within the confusion and had given up any hope of finding her old friend within the faceless crowed. She was only one speck amongst thousands in a dammed river. Unable to push her way forward, Kagome fell back until she was thrust to the ground not far from where she had started.
Behind her, a man screamed as flesh hit flesh. She could recognize the voice of one of the Haven employees and she turned just in time to see a table being hurled at her. Something in the back of her mind told her to run or jump out of the way—something. It didn't matter though, her feet were weighted to the floor, holding her down. The miko could only watch as the table flew toward her with wide eyes.
She could see the headlines now "Famed Author Meets Death by Flying Table." This after an adolescence spent running through the demon-infested Feudal Era—ironic.
Her eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable impact, the feeling of wood crushing bone…
Something hit her from the side, throwing her off her feet. Her body fell in a heap onto the maple floors. For a moment she was stunned. She could feel a bruise forming on her back and her right elbow hurt painfully, but she was still breathing. Warmth seeped through her, covering her torso—someone was on top of her, pressed chest to chest. She could feel a heartbeat, slow and steady against her racing pulse. Hand pressed firmly into her shoulders. There was a warm breath on her cheek. Kagome shuttered. The commotion fell away into the background.
She slowly opened her eyes and peered through pale strands, into resin colored eyes, glimmering like polished Maplewood—
--she ran her hands through silver hair to move the offending strands from his eyes, delighting in the texture that was softer than lamb's wool. It was long enough to cover them both, pooling around them. The man above her offered a mischievous grin and reached down to cover her lips with his own, hungrily drinking what she so willingly offered. Kagome gave in to his ministrations, sighing into his mouth as his tongue proceeded to taste every inch of her mouth, each ridge and crevice. Without breaking contact, one of his hands snaked between their bodies, reaching for the hem of her shirt.
Startled, Kagome gasped and grabbed the wandering appendage. "Inuyasha, no." Her breathing came in hard gasps and despite the heat ravaging her body, she shivered. The man above her frowned, but one look at the shadows lingering in her face had him sighing in defeat. The hand that had reached for her shirt snaked around her waist instead, pulling her close before flipping them around so that Kagome's body was draped over his, her head pillowed securely on his arm.
Neither said anything and Kagome was content to just stare into the moonlit night through the filter of the trees. Stars wandered the sky, glimmering lights dotting a landscape of eternal void.
"There are so many tonight," she said softly, breaking the silence.
Inuyasha didn't answer for a moment, but finally, she felt a strong hand grasp hers. "There are thousands because there are thousands of fates—that's what my mother told me anyway. She told me I had to find my own."
Kagome sensed the hesitation in his voice. Inuyasha didn't speak of his mother very often. The human mother who bore him was a sore subject for the hanyou. It was best not to mention the former consort of the Lord of the Western Lands.
Instead, she propped herself up on one elbow to stare down at him, his hair fanned out beneath him, eyes focused on the canopy, shades of light and darkness playing against the plains of his features. It made him look stern, older than he was in the daylight. Every year showed on his face for her eyes alone—he had never been more beautiful. "And what do they say tonight, Inuyasha." She said it into his ear, her breath startling the tiny hairs from their place. She felt him jump beneath her at the tingling sensation.
The hanyou turned his attention to the woman gazing down at him. The hand that held hers squeezed tighter. "That we will win tomorrow. After tonight, Naraku will be dead. Forever."
"Good."
"Are you scared?"
Kagome shook her head and leaned back against him, seeking his warmth. His arm closed tightly around her, holding her close. She could remain there forever—would, once the danger was in the past. "I can't be scared. Not when everyone is counting on me. Not with you counting on me…"
A loud snap sent her out of her reverie as another piece of furniture shattered to toothpicks next to her. Suddenly she was pulled to her feet, claws digging into bared skin. "Sesshoumaru," she said, slightly surprised.
The demon hulled her away, forcing her towards the wall. "Move miko. We don't have all afternoon." The man who threw the chair was moving toward them again. Everything in his path was cleared away, torn to shreds with his bare hands. He came barreling toward them like a locomotive, ready to crush them. Behind her, she could feel Sesshoumaru reaching for his sword. Unconsciously, Kagome seized her miko power, grasping at invisible strands of her own life force, feeling the slight tug on her soul as it responded to her request.
She was just about to fling a blast of energy in their assailant's face when a piercing sound crashed through the din. It raced through the air like elfshot through glass, shattering the clamor into a million pieces. Kagome could not think of any other way to describe the note. It was like livewire, a distinct minor she could feel thrust into her heart. At first, she thought the touch was nothing more than her own overactive imagination, but she felt Sesshoumaru jump slightly behind her. His chest shook in a low growl, but it remained beneath the chorded notes ringing from what was unmistakably a shamisen.
Standing on the stage, Kagome caught sight of the shamisen player from earlier. She stood as calmly on stage now as she had stood during the performance before an appreciative crowd. Her fingers, gently strummed the instrument. Though the musician was the same, the song was completely different from what she had heard during the performance. Although she played alone, the power in the siren song had not dimmed; if anything, it had increased. Like the other piece, the tune resonating from the instrument was Celtic, but instead of elegant and rousing majors, this tune was low and mournful, a lament that quivered as it was released from its restrains. Each note shivered in the air before finally dying, rising and then falling in one long drawn breath. As one died, another was born from its ashes, holding onto its predecessor for a moment longer, enough to catch a final piece of precious sound before releasing. Every chord tore away a tear from Kagome's eyes. Her miko powers hummed, holding a resonance with the powerful sound. She felt the woman's soul in her music, tangible to her senses.
Her assailant was not unaffected by the music. With the first note, his back arched, as if he were suddenly struck by the most horrible agony imaginable. His eyes rolled back in his head as his limbs went stiff. The body fell to the floor, squirming like a fish on a hook. His mouth flew open, but instead of a scream, black mist burst through the open orifice.
Kagome reeled when the substance was drawn from the body, a liquid smoke that spiraled upward toward the ceiling, releasing a banshee cry as it floated. The miko had to resist the urge to cover her ears. Sesshoumaru tightened his grip.
"It looks like he was possessed," Kagome said softly. She didn't even want to think of the possibility.
The smoke disappeared from view and the man's body relaxed, letting out one final shudder before becoming still. The music continued for a heartbeat more, a shroud settling over what was once a living being, now clearly departed from this world.
The musician lowered her shamisen and met Kagome's eyes. Silence greeted the end to her song and it was with surprise that the miko realized that the room was now completely empty.
With a grace that Kagome swore was impossible to achieve, the woman dropped to the floor, tucking the instrument under her arm. She stopped just short of Kagome. "Miss Higurashi." She caught site of Sesshoumaru, but her eyes only widened a fraction. She said nothing. Obviously, a demon standing in feudal clothing did not warrant an explanation—at the moment.
Kagome stepped forward with more confidence than she felt. The woman had just saved them, but… "I'm not sure if I should be thanking you or not. I have never seen anything like that."
"I understand." She threw a glance around what was left of Haven's main room. "I wish I had the time to explain everything here and now, but unfortunately, I'm afraid explanations must wait. For now, my name will have to suffice—I am called Nightingale. I realize that this is sudden and you have no reason to trust me, but could we possibly talk later? I have a feeling that we could both benefit from shared information."
Kagome swallowed her shock. The rational side of her tried to remind her that she knew nothing about this woman, but another part was demanding that she trust her. She had just saved them afterall. "Where?" she asked finally.
"Wherever you wish. Someplace safe, where no one will hear us."
Before Kagome could reply, another voice interrupted them from the doorway. "How about your apartment Miss Higurashi, or if not there, perhaps the police station would suffice." Officer Soshiro Ichimura moved toward them, maneuvering easily through the wreckage. "I think this is going to be a very interesting conversation indeed." His young face hardened, eyes flickering between the two women. "I want answers, and I want them soon. I'm tired of tracing cold trails, and I get the feeling I can get them from you."
It was too much too fast. First the dig sight, then Sesshoumaru, then the attack, and now an officer was standing in front of her demanding answers to something he would likely never understand. Kagome suddenly felt more weary than she had in years. All she wanted now was to go back to her apartment, go to sleep and forget everything. She knew she couldn't, however, she never could. "My apartment would be fine. Tomorrow morning. I take it that you know where it is Officer Ichimura?"
"Of course."
"Please give Nightingale," she paused at the woman's strange name, "the information as well." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she made her way to the exit, barely noting the demon following behind her. He would be there tomorrow though, that much she knew for certain. It would be a day of answers all around.
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AN: Okay, that took awhile. The majority of the background will be dished out in the next chapter including more details about Nightingale, information about the whereabouts of demons in 21 century Tokyo, and what exactly happened in Sesshoumaru's past before his appearance in the modern world.
Also, thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I am so happy that people like this story. Your appreciation for my work is what keeps me writing. I cannot thank you all enough. By all means, keep sending them my way.
For those who are curious, the "soundtrack" for this chapter was:
"Swing Shift" – The Ahn Trio (Haven)
"The Fairy Queen" – Traditional Irish Melody (Nightingale's first song)
"Forest Hymn" (Kagome and Inuyasha)
"Aileen's Lament" (Nightingale's second song)
Please remember to review, and I am still looking for a beta. Having one would help make updates much faster.