- CHAPTER THIRTEEN – CAGED -


- TWO WEEKS LATER -

Kagome let her legs dangle over the ledge, swinging bare feet above hundreds of feet of rock; high breezes caught her ankles and calves, raising goosebumps and making them sway. Gone was her fear of the dizzying height – shed with other fears and worries the longer she was away from life in Kanaka. The one who had liberated her sat next to her, grumbling to himself and determined to show her the sunset.

The last string of days had been a blur. Between stolen moments in dark hallways, and breathless stammers upon meeting, they had been divided among a multitude of Ouja who required their time and attention with a tenacity that seemed on purpose. As Shiori and Baku had cornered them in the main hall, insisting Kagome travel the ceiling's catacombs so she wouldn't be caught unawares again, Inu-Yasha had snarled his frustration and whisked her away before they could argue otherwise.

Finally alone, they surveyed the landscape below.

The girl palmed the frost-laced stone beneath her, peeking over at the hanyou still muttering about subordinates with too much free time. "I'd be great at watching them," a layer of cajole weighted her voice. "Miroku's going crazy being around them all the time."

"But they want to kill me," Inu-Yasha took in the afternoon light with half-interest, keenly aware of her proximity. "Or my brother," they were only an hour or so from the big event, but all he could suddenly see were her moving lips and the plunging neckline of a new outfit Moegi had goaded her into wearing. It peeked alluringly from under her open coat, allowing glimpses as she shifted or gestured.

Unaware of her effect, Kagome continued, "Doesn't he hate humans, hanyou, and all joy in others in general?" She lifted her hand, placing it on his. "You haven't seen Sesshomaru in years. It doesn't sound like he's going to turn up anytime soon," her fingers sunk down between his. "Please? The children and I can soften Sango and Kohaku's attitudes towards the Ouja."

Inu-Yasha resisted. "That's another thing," he was slowly becoming savvy to her many forms of persuasion – whether they were conscious or not. "You're spending so much time with Shippo and the orphans. Shouldn't you be cataloging our medicinal stores with Jinenji or playing matchmaker for Ren?"

Kagome grinned. "Shippo's boyish charm is a bit distracting," she nudged him with her shoulder. "He's so much younger than sixty-five. Falling for an old man does have some wistful 'what-if' moments."

Inu-Yasha forgot her dress, feeling irritation ignite. "Woman!"

She laughed and turned back to the vista, stroking his broad knuckles with her thumb. "I just want to help."

They watched the sun's slow descent wordlessly, Kagome savoring the sky, and Inu-Yasha barely noticing its first hints of color. Kagome warmed his right side, and the hanyou tried not to focus on the line of her body against his, knowing he should be more vested in the horizon. He had worked diligently to put extra pounds on her over the last two weeks, coaxing the men on kitchen duty to make dishes of unprecedented care and flavor, and the new curve to her hip and thigh was beyond distracting.

"I know your tactics," Inu-Yasha turned from the forest and hills, banishing the desire to palm her knee. "You think holding my hand will help sway me."

Kagome squeezed his fingers. "It doesn't?"

He sighed. "Those taijiya are dangerous – the woman in particular. She's manipulative and driven."

"She has a name," she reminded.

Inu-Yasha released another sigh. "Sango's bent on justice, no matter the casualties," he reached for her chin. "She wouldn't bat an eye at trading you for Sesshomaru's head."

Kagome let her face be lifted. "Almost like she has nothing to live for?"

"Exactly."

"So who better to show her she's wrong?"

Inu-Yasha rolled his eyes and let go of her jaw. "Always twisting my words…."

Kagome grinned and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You wouldn't have me any other way."

His expression grew sullen as he masked his pleasure. Kagome's kisses – whether quick and impromptu or long and exploring – were the highlight of his days. "Were you always this cocky?"

Kagome started to scoot away, her face falling. "Maybe you're right…."

Strong arms engulfed her, pulling her back to his hip, and Inu-Yasha gave an exasperated look, knowing she was only teasing, but succumbing anyway. "Fine," he slipped a hand over her shoulders. "You can guard the hunters," wide haori sleeve covered her back. "But only with someone else's help."

She leaned into him. "I won. Point for me."

"We're not keeping score."

"Jinenji is."

Inu-Yasha hung his head. "You're still impossible."

Kagome craned her neck up, staring at the side of his face. "It's nice, right? That we're the same?"

He gave a half-smile. "I'd be alright if you were slower at comebacks."

"To match yours?" She exhaled in a huff. "I don't think so."

He laughed and reached for her face again, claws light at her skin. "Careful. You're going to make me fall in love with you if you don't watch it."

She let him lead her to his mouth, batting away his mention – of which he'd made several – with a casual smile. "I'm on my guard," she spoke against his lips. "Don't worry."

They kissed, the waning sun warming their faces. As Inu-Yasha pressed his lips deeper into Kagome's, urging her to relish and enjoy, he was vaguely aware of a nagging qualm that had nothing to do with the conscience that often plagued him. It almost felt as if they weren't alone….


Far below, hidden in a thicket of pines, three figures and a scatter of wolves watched as the contact atop the ledge grew ardent. One, holding the hand of small, toddling cub, turned away as fingers combed up into hair and fisted with desire. The man released the boy, less than a decade old, into the care of his four-legged brothers and watched him grab the closest wolf's neck-ruff eagerly.

The tallest voyeur was oblivious, staring at Kagome and Inu-Yasha mutely, his whole body shaking in a suffocating vice of jealousy at their happiness. Tense with anger and hatred, he grinned savagely.

"That's how we get our revenge," his voice came out strangled and low. "We'll kill his future mate."

The youkai on either side of him exchanged a look.

"My Lord," Hakkaku shot another glance to the cub his best friend had saved in his final moments. "How will we get to her?"

Kouga tore his eyes from the pair. The wolves around him, save the one occupying the child, snarled on his behalf, fighting the instinct to growl and give away their position. "She's surrounded only by hanyou," he said. "Half-bloods with muddied senses are no match for us."

The girl at Hakkaku's side flushed. "Those 'half-bloods' have more fight than you know," she ground out. "You've already underestimated them once."

Kouga glowered. "Watch your tone Ayame. You've chosen your side," he grew vicious. "The Ouja won't take you back. You're a traitor to them."

Her flush darkened, stretching up to her pointed ears. "Don't speak to me like that!" Indignation shook her words. "I can offer council without my previous allegiance being thrown in my face!"

"Quiet!" Hakkaku barked, eyeing the ledge warily. "Muddied or no, Inu-Yasha will hear us if you don't lower your voices," he shot a glare to his leader. "Both of you."

The trio resumed their surveillance, each wrestling down unsaid things demanding release. Ayame pulled her white pelts tighter around her shoulders, turning to Shoka's son and thinking how much he was like the children in the mountain she'd once called home.


Afternoon sank through the buildings of Kanaka, pouring light into doorways and down alleys, pooling over poorly-swept streets and slow-moving masses of people traveling home from their days of toil with weary feet.

Above them all, a great estate with impressive gardens sprawled out across the city's center. A man with dark hair and red eyes stepped out onto its balcony to enjoy the last of the sun's light, curling his lip in disgust as he caught sight of the populace, moving in an exodus. Covering his mouth and nose with a palm, as if the sweat of their labor could reach his height, he snapped his fingers.

Scrambling sounded inside, and a bent figure appeared. "There's still been no word from the youkai slayers sir," the servant said reluctantly, knowing his master's question before he'd asked it.

Naraku's palm seized, gripping the flesh of his cheeks. "It's been so long," he hissed between fingers. "Are you sure?"

The man nodded, wishing he could join the people below who got to go home. "Your spies have found nothing."

Naraku cursed. How could Kagome have vanished? The girl was resourceful, but enough to avoid him for almost a month? She didn't have it in her. He withdrew his hand. "Keep looking," he watched the shuffling forms in the streets below. "She's out there," his mouth curled down in a frown. "And she's laughing at us."


Kagome laughed as Inu-Yasha imitated his second-in-command around Sango. The taijiya was the first woman Miroku didn't seem to want to bed, which caused a flurry of gossip among the range.

Puffing out his cheeks, Inu-Yasha exaggerated an annoyed brow in a close mimic of Miroku's irritation. "I hate you human."

Kagome joined in, deepening her voice. "But I actually want you to father my children."

"Except I can't tell you," Inu-Yasha countered.

"Cause you're too pretty."

"And you want to kill me."

Kagome grinned. "So I'll just stare at you when I think no one's watching."

"Which is never the case, because we live in a mountain full of busy-bodies," Inu-Yasha shook his head. "We do by the way."

"I know," Kagome huddled against him as a harsh breeze blasted through. "I had someone ask again today if I planned on staying in the women's wing."

"You did?" The hanyou tightened his arm around her and tried to sound nonchalant. "Who?" He knew exactly who; he'd told them to ask.

Kagome paused at his carefully-measured tone, crinkling her brow at the uncharacteristic guard. "Kenta," she said slowly.

"Ah," Inu-Yasha pretended to watch the sky-line, but his ears gave him away. They strained so hard toward her she was surprised they didn't pull his head down. He fought for casual, unaware of their treachery. "What… did you say?"

Kagome's jaw fell. She straightened from her lean and shoved him in the chest. "You jerk!" Extracting herself further, she scooted until cold rushed her newly-exposed side. "Have you ordered everyone who's come up to me to do so?!"

Inu-Yasha's ears flattened, and he panicked, unsure if he should play dumb or answer truthfully. "What?"

Kagome lifted a finger to his face. "Don't even try."

He risked the latter, reaching for her again. "Maybe."

A palm smacked his arm. "Inu-Yasha!"

"Sorry!"

"Why would you do that?!"

He shrugged. "Someone has to be a lech now that Miroku's reformed," he said lightly.

Kagome searched his face before reacting; she was learning Inu-Yasha's words, though candid on emotion, rarely mirrored his true thoughts. His boyish features were lined and heavy – holding much in their frame. He was frustrated she wouldn't come to him – but more – he stung from rejection. She could see humiliation in his eyes.

Her anger softened. While Inu-Yasha bottled his most intimate feelings, she had discovered she let hers explode everywhere. Time – and a great many shadowed corners – had changed the dynamic of their relationship drastically.

"Hey," she relaxed her shoulders. "It isn't your fault."

"What isn't?"

"That I haven't returned to your room.

A blush started in Inu-Yasha's cheeks and spread across the bridge of his nose. "I-I know that."

She scooted back to his chest, sliding her arms in a hug around his torso. "I mean it. I just need more time," her face was near the folded neck of his haori, and her thoughts drifted from the exchange, in complete opposition to her words. What would happen if she slipped a hand through the opening, feeling the muscles below without a pretense of healing? Let her fingers travel down, pushing layers back as they went, tracing circles and raising shivers?

Kagome tensed, knowing she could do none of what she imagined. "I lost a lot more than a year in Kanaka," she said quietly.

Inu-Yasha was still coming to understand the extent of Naraku's theft. Like the scars on her back, Kagome kept much of what had been stolen hidden. Her breathing was fast below his collar, and her body had gone rigid. He could smell her shift – from idle talk and thoughtless kissing – to desire she both wanted and didn't. She thought her inner wars went unnoticed, but they broke over her with alarming strength and debilitating determination.

Though he did want her to share his bed for reasons far from platonic, there was also something else. "What about your nightmares?" He echoed her volume. "Moegi told me you can't sleep through the night unless someone stays with you."

Kagome jerked against him. "What? That's not true!"

His chin jutted to the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes. "She said even when you have company, you still scream and startle yourself awake," Naraku's control stretched far beyond the girl's waking world, strangling her even from a distance.

Kagome frowned. "Well if she's getting tired, I'm fine sleeping by myself!"

Inu-Yasha gave her a patient look. "You didn't rouse once when you slept beside me. Remember? The night of the new moon?"

She started pulling out of his chest. "We were tired. We'd been up most of the night."

Inu-Yasha held her fast. "Did you have a single nightmare in my chamber? Even when I was unconscious?"

Kagome ducked her head and searched her memory. "No," she admitted. "But it was the shock of my new circumstances."

Inu-Yasha squeezed her shoulder in a display of tenderness he'd practiced in the privacy of his room, far from the eyes and advice of his brothers and sisters. Such an act of support didn't come naturally to him, and he'd rehearsed twice with his pillow, two more times than pride allowed for. "What if it wasn't?" He asked gently, pleased as she sank back against him, placated by the gesture. "What if I helped?"

Kagome offered a weak grin and retrained her eyes on the horizon, watching as it slowly filled with yellow, pink, and orange.

Inu-Yasha dropped it, not wanting to push, and followed the sun's descent into the west silently.


Naraku reclined in the largest of his lounge pieces, blue and orange taffeta hanging over the chair's stiff sides in carefully measured abandon. He waited impatiently for his new favorite to arrive, trying to quell the swirl of excitement climbing up his chest. The girl was younger and less vocal than Kagome, but held the same spark of character that captivated him.

A servant appeared from the dark hallway that led to his harem, towing a small form by the elbow.

Naraku sat up, looking at the girl in the light of his parlor. Her mouth was drawn into a thin line, and she moved with her weight braced back, ready to rip free should the hold on her arm loosen. She wore her hair in her customary fashion – down except for a small side ponytail she refused to stop wearing. It made her look childish, and Naraku worked not to frown; the very sight of it angered him.

He beckoned them forward, quelling his annoyance. Rin had been in Kanaka just over a week, and there was still much she needed to learn. Starting with that damned ponytail. "Good evening," he called genially.

The girl acknowledged the greeting with a clipped nod, and then stared off at a far wall.

Naraku's frown appeared. He rose swiftly and waved his servant away. The other man bowed gratefully and released Rin's elbow, backing up hastily and keeping his gaze downcast.

Free, the girl rubbed her wrist, eyeing the pair of guards against the wall she studied. They were alert, and already beginning to crouch for a sprint. Her penchant for running had obviously been established among those of Naraku's household, sweeping through the different shifts yet to encounter her. Rin resigned herself to rolling her wrist; her handler's touch had been like a vice, and she winced as her thumb brushed where his grip had throttled.

Naraku stepped forward. "Did he hurt you?"

She jumped at the question and shook her head, making her side ponytail whip back and forth.

Wearing the classic orange of Kanaka elite, the man closed the distance between them, suppressing the urge to wrench the tie from her hair. Why should she cling to such a young fashion? She was sixteen. He wasn't a monster.

"Let me know if he does," he tried to keep his voice even, but she didn't react, oblivious to this magnanimous display of patience.

She stood numbly, her borrowed kimono too big. It pooled at her feet and fell past her fingers as she let her arms dangle woodenly, making no attempt to look seductive or inviting.

Naraku's teeth clenched. "Rin…," he started.

A third guard appeared in the parlor. "Excuse me sir," his face shot for his feet as he saw the girl. "You have a visitor at the front door."

Naraku glowered over, wishing the power of hateful stares could destroy someone on sight. "What? At this hour?"

The guard nodded. "It's a woman," he began. "She was found by one of your farthest patrols."

"Oh?"

"She's heavily wounded – it appears she fought a demon."

Naraku instantly perked, his annoyance evaporating. "Go on."

Injured women were often at his mercy, their servitude easy to obtain in exchange for medical attention. It was how he'd gotten Rin.

The man shifted, flicking an uneasy look at the girl in the ill-fitting kimono before finding his voice. "She's been babbling nonsense since she was brought in. Something about hanyou mutts and giant swords."

Naraku went cold. "Hanyou?"

"Yes, I believe so sir."

Rin watched her new master carefully, studying his expression with a shrewdness she had kept hidden from his palace spies. Sensing his preoccupation, she began edging back down the hall, creeping for the shadows that led to the harem's sleeping quarters.

Naraku didn't notice her subtle movements at all. He strode for the man, beckoning him forward. "Lead the way – I want to see her," he said. "Now."