Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or anything to do with that company's marketing. Thank you.

Quick Translations:

Domo (doh-moh) – in this case, it's used as thank you

Shi (shee)—one word for four, this word also means death

Author's Note: Yay! The fourth chapter has arrived! About time, huh? Oh well, I can't help it. Music school was INCREDIBLE, if you wanted to know. I'm sure you could care less. You're all sitting there saying, "Get on with the chapter, damn it." Well, I won't make you wait any longer. At last, the fourth chapter of Project Armageddon:

Chapter 4, Requiem: Libera me

I am the enemy you killed, my friend.

I knew you in this dark; for so you frowned

Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.

I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.

Let us sleep now…

- Strange Meeting, Wilfred Owen

After that first day, things began to improve. It wasn't a drastic change, but it was enough to make me complacent. The morning after the wedding, I woke up to find a fresh set of clothes spread out on the bed. More had been stuffed into the dresser drawers. I recognized them at once—they were all my clothes. I slipped into a comfortable outfit and ran into the kitchen. Inuyasha was there, pouring himself a bowl of Wheaties.

"You went back?" I exclaimed before I could help myself.

"Alright, alright, don't hurt yourself," Inuyasha said, raising his hands to pacify me. Then, he deflected any gratitude I might express by saying, "It was really Sango's idea to go back for some of your things."

"But you're the one who went," I pointed out. "So, thank you."

Inuyasha tightened his lips and looked away. "Feh."

I smiled and sat down across from him. He pushed the box of Wheaties in my direction, but I refused. "Good, then get on your feet," he said curtly. He grabbed a set of keys from the table.

"Where are we going?" I asked at once.

"To meet Sango." He walked out the door, not waiting for me to go through first. Quite the gentleman, that Inuyasha. We were in the living room again. I looked around briefly. I hadn't really gotten a good look at the living room, but Inuyasha wasn't in the mood to give a tour. He kept walking, setting a brisk pace so that I had to jog in order not to be left behind. We descended the stairs of the apartment building and walked out onto the street.

"Where are we meeting Sango?" I asked, gasping for air as I caught up to him. My side was irritating me even though the wound had closed up a few days ago. I clutched it as we went.

"Are you already tired, girl?" Inuyasha said, raising an eyebrow at me. "Maybe you're more trouble than you're worth after all."

I puffed out my cheeks in frustration. Inuyasha wasn't going to put up with anything that even sounded like complaining. So, I would just have to make due. I was determined to prove my worth to the hanyou.

After a few blocks, Inuyasha turned onto a perpendicular street that led back into the heart of Tokyo. I shrank back in surprise, remembering I had come down this same street with Souta just days before. If Inuyasha noticed my distress, he gave no indication; I was forced to keep going. We walked and walked, and I got more and more agitated as we went. A swell of emotions worked at the lining of my stomach; I fought the urge to throw up.

We finally stopped. We were at the edge of a small park. A bench and a trashcan stood like sentinels near the entrance. Both were covered with graffiti. Inuyasha positioned himself at the bench and sat. After a few moments, I sat next to him. Neither of us spoke for a very, very long time.
"Ano, Inuyasha?"

"Sh, stupid girl," Inuyasha snapped.

I shut my mouth tight and looked around. It was a fairly nice day. The sky was clear and blue. People passed by in small groups. Some of them were leading small children. Some of them smiled. Inuyasha grunted at these people, and they quickly moved along. Hours passed. My stomach rumbled hungrily. I tried to be discreet about it, but Inuyasha noted my discomfort regardless.

"You hungry?" he asked, his ears twitching.

"Hmm?" I looked up embarrassedly.

Inuyasha's golden eyes narrowed in annoyance. He surveyed the crowd critically. "I asked you: are you hungry?"

"A bit," I admitted sheepishly, pushing a leaf around with the toe of my converses.

"Wait here," Inuyasha said, standing up. "Don't talk to anyone. If someone approaches, don't make eye contact. You'd be surprised at how well it works. If you recognize anyone, I don't care if they're your first-grade teacher or a Government pawn, hide yourself. I'll be back in a few minutes." He was off before I could protest.

I shrank back into the bench, trying to make myself as small and insignificant as possible. I imagined that I was invisible. As I disappeared, I watched the people walking by. No one seemed to notice me. Maybe I really was invisible. I picked out a small woman and glared at her. She turned around, but didn't seem to see me. Maybe I had worked it out! I smiled smugly to myself.

"Hello, is this seat taken?"

I jumped several feet and looked up into the face of a handsome young man. He was smiling warmly. He had black hair and the most amazing amethyst eyes I'd ever seen. He seemed faintly familiar… I was momentarily stunned, and then quickly began trying to ignore him. It was impossible that he could be talking to me. I'm invisible!

"Excuse me? Miss?" he questioned politely, his smile not faltering for an instant.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath. I had failed Inuyasha; I was simply no good at ignoring people. Still, what harm could this young man possibly be? "Yeah, go ahead. Sit if you like."

The man sat. "Domo," he said.

I looked away. My eyes raked the crowds for Inuyasha's face. I wished that he would hurry up and get back with the food. I was starving, and I was overly conscious of the fact that people were noticing me again.

Suddenly, I felt the prick of cold steel against my throat. I froze instantly, and my eyes flickered to the man sitting beside me on the bench. He was smiling still, but his amethyst eyes were cold. To the passerby, it would appear that he was simply resting his arm on my shoulder, but they were not feeling the bone-chilling point of his dagger. "Don't move," he advised in a flat, emotionless voice that was nothing like the one he had been using moments before. "Don't make a scene."

"What do you want?" I asked, pretending to be looking through my bag for something. The bag was actually Inuyasha's; I hadn't had time to grab anything from the apartment. My fingers closed around a pack of cigarettes. A moment later, I had a lighter. Barely thinking, I took out a cigarette and the lighter.

"Why, thank you. I would love a smoke," the man said cheerfully, taking the cigarette and lighter from me and lighting up. "Would you care to go for a walk?"

I got to my feet shakily. The hand with the dagger slipped around my waist. My face burned with embarrassment and fear. "Where to?"

"Leave the bag, behind, Higurashi Kagome," he said under his breath. I dropped it at once, my blood turning to ice as he said my name. Still, if this Government agent was using my maiden name, it meant that the Government did not yet know about my marriage to Inuyasha. So, at least Inuyasha was safe—which was more than I could say for myself. "We're going into the park."

"Sure," I said, as sweetly as I could manage. Visions of violence, blood, and guns flashed rapidly behind my eyelids. I was shaking all over. We began to walk.

We stepped into a secluded grove. It was the kind of place you would normally catch kids sneaking to in order to share a kiss. I only wished that our business in this grove was half so light-hearted and silly. I looked up into the face of my captor. It didn't look like a cruel face, but the ice in his eyes told me otherwise. I wondered how such a kind face came by such an evil look. I wondered if he practiced it in front of his mirror at night and dreamed of the day he would be able to use it on someone. The knife stayed at my back.

"Alright now. I want you to know first that I fully intend to kill you. Do you doubt it?" I did not. "But before I do that, I want some information. What do you know about a man named Inuyasha?"

"Who?" I asked. I wanted to be as helpful as possible, but if he planned on killing me anyway, what was the point in telling him anything?

The dagger got closer to my back. I heard the sound of a gun being cocked. My captor stopped, and the dagger point weaved through the fabric of my light sweater. "Let her go, Miroku," demanded Inuyasha from behind us.

"Inuyasha!" I breathed in relief.

The man named Miroku released me at once. I ran over to Inuyasha. "Inuyasha!" I exclaimed, running into his arms. "I was so frightened!"

Inuyasha pushed me away at once. I looked up at him in confusion. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Pull yourself together, you big baby," he said with disdain. "Miroku's no Government agent."

I stiffened. "What?"

Miroku laughed apologetically. "Sorry about that, Kagome-sama. I'm Takara Miroku—I work with Inuyasha."

I turned around to face him, color rising into my cheeks. "You mean…this was all an act?"

"That's right," Miroku assured me. "Inuyasha and I picked out this meeting place, and then Inuyasha worked everything out so that he would be away when I came. He wanted to see how well you could disguise your presence. I must say, though: I give you full marks for a beginner. Even I was fooled for a moment."

I blinked. I still didn't comprehend all of this. Disguise my presence? A beginner at what? What had I managed to fool him about?

Miroku tried a smile. "I guess it's a little hard to understand, and you probably don't remember me yet. I was at your wedding."

I jumped a bit. I remembered him now. "Oh, the wedding," I muttered, looking back at Inuyasha. "So, you guys worked together? You guys are…friends?"

Inuyasha scoffed and Miroku frowned. "I don't have friends," Inuyasha said contemptuously. "Miroku and I fought side by side against the Government, that's all. So, when I took you on, I called in a favor from Miroku. You're going to need training, after all, and Miroku's the best one for the job."

"Oh," I said, though I was still confused. It was probably just nerves. Nerves? Oh my God! I just had a knife against my back! These were my last thoughts as I lost consciousness.

I woke up on the sofa in the living room. There was a glass of water on the table nearby. I took a huge swig and then sat back and tried to collect my thoughts. I must have passed out…again.

"You're awake?" said Miroku as he walked into the living room. He was carrying a tray full of food from the kitchen. Setting it down in front of me, he settled into the armchair across the sitting area. "Look, I'm really sorry about all that crap in the park. If you're still uncomfortable, I can leave."

I brushed a hand in front of my face and took a large bite out my sandwich. " I just can't believe I passed out."

Miroku smiled again. "Well, I can't say I blame you. You were in shock still and you were starving. Anyone else probably would've done the same thing."

"You and Inuyasha wouldn't," I said dejectedly.

Miroku seemed surprised by this statement, but then nodded slightly. "Ah, I see," he said in a soft voice. One hand reached out reassuringly and cupped my left knee. I immediately stiffened, but Miroku took no notice. "Kagome-sama, Inuyasha called me up to train you. By the time I'm done with you, you won't need to worry about stuff like that. I'd be surprised if you needed to worry about even being seen by a Government pawn."

I blinked. "Are you serious? How is that possible?"

"In the same way it was possible for you to become invisible in that crowd today," Miroku said with a shrug.

"I really was invisible?" I exclaimed in astonishment.

"Well, not in the more popular sense of the word. That really is impossible. People don't vanish; instead, they simply evade our senses. It is a highly developed and difficult art, and some people will never be able to achieve it. You, however, are already halfway there."

I didn't know what to say. That is, until I remembered that Miroku's hand was still on my knee. I cleared my throat. He didn't move it. "Ano, Miroku-sama?"
Miroku looked up at me innocently.

"Get your hands off of her, bouzo," Inuyasha said, walked into the room with fire in his eyes. Miroku's hand was gone at once. Inuyasha crossed the room and collapsed on the coach next. He scooped up one of my sandwiches and shoved it down his throat. "You're going to have to watch out for that, girl," Inuyasha advised. "Miroku has a very large problem controlling his hands."

"The problem runs a little deeper than his hands, I'm afraid," Sango said as she stepped into the apartment. She was dressed in street clothes now, and carrying a large bag around one shoulder. Her long brown hair ran down her back, and a white ribbon struggled to contain it at the ends. She smiled at me and sat as far from Miroku as the seating area allowed.

"Sango-chan?" I questioned in confusion.

"Time for your brief, girl." Inuyasha looked at me squarely. "We've all decided that you're trustworthy and, to some extent, capable of handling the things we're going to be throwing at you."

Sango and Miroku smiled. Inuyasha frowned. I sighed; I had no idea what it was going to take to get this hanyou's trust. He hadn't removed his hat since I pulled it off, even when we were all alone, and he still had yet to call me by my name. As I was pondering this, Miroku's hand found its slippery way down my thigh. Sango's slap rang through the air before I even had time to register just what was going on.

"Anyway," Inuyasha continued with a bored expression that told me that he was used to such situations, "Our names, for the record: Takara Miroku, Kawate Sango, and Masashi Inuyasha. From a young age and for various personal reasons, the three of us were members of the Rebel movement. Our superiors recognized our unique abilities and grouped us together. We were the ultimate killing team. Once we were assigned to a mission, there was no question that it would be completed."

"Ours were the most feared names in all of Tokyo," Miroku muttered. "The Shi, we were called."

"Shi?" I repeated. "But there are only three of you…"

Miroku frowned. Sango shifted uncomfortably. Inuyasha stood up and walked into the kitchen. I watched it all with growing trepidation. "Aren't there?" I asked, lowering my voice. I felt like I was asking a profane question at a church service.

"There was a fourth, Kagome-chan," Sango said in an equally quiet voice. "Her name was Kikyo. She never gave us her surname, and we never asked for it. Many people in the Rebel movement used only their first names, or simply gave out names they themselves had made up. So many people had pasts and homes that were either gone or better off forgotten. We didn't ask Kikyo about her past, about her unique abilities, nothing. We didn't ask her because we never asked anyone. It wasn't important. They were in the Rebel movement because they hated the Government. It was never even taken into consideration that a leak could be sprung so deep in the heart of the Rebel movement's inner-workings."

"But there was, right? Kikyo was the leak?" I asked.

"Yes…yes, Kikyo was the leak," Sango said sadly, hanging her head. She looked over at Miroku, as if pleading him to take up the tale. Miroku nodded.

"But, Kagome-sama, it wasn't as simple as discovering that Kikyo was the leak. Kikyo had been working with us for more than two years. We had collaborated on more than a hundred missions, taking down Government officials, causing unrest in the seven sectors, and the like. Kikyo was as integral to the Shi as any of us, and perhaps more so, because she had the ability to heal wounds at an accelerated rate.

"By this time," Miroku continued, "the Shi had become so powerful and feared that our superiors decided that we were ready. We were given the biggest mission of our entire career: a direct attack on President Naraku himself. We spent months working on the mission, putting together all the little cogs and pieces so that the machinery of our assignment would run smoothly. Everything seemed to be working out perfectly; the Government was easing into our carefully laid trap.

"The night our mission was to take place, Sango and I arrived as planned. We secured the area and entered, counting on Inuyasha and Kikyo for back-up…but the two of them never came." Something was agitating Sango now. She seemed extremely upset, though she fought to keep her unease out of her pretty face. One hand worked restlessly the fabric over her stomach.

"What happened? Where were Inuyasha and Kikyo?" I asked.

Miroku and Sango looked at one another. "We don't know, Kagome-sama," Miroku said at last. "Inuyasha's never told us. All that we know is that the next morning, Inuyasha's name was all over the news, and Kikyo was dead."

I jumped. So it was true, after all. "And…do I really look like this Kikyo person?"

Sango sighed and reached into her bag. From it, she extracted an official-looking manila folder. "It's from the offices at the heart of the Rebel movement," Sango explained as she noticed the direction of my gaze. "I borrowed it for the purpose of this explanation." She pushed the folder towards me.

I held the folder loosely in my trembling fingers. For some reason, I was shaking all over. I looked behind me at the kitchen door. It was closed and no sound issued from the other side. I wondered if Inuyasha was listening to our conversation…I wondered how he would feel about the file that I held in my hands. He had told me that he hated Kikyo…he had given me every reason to believe that this was so. But if he hated her, why had he gone into the other room?

I looked back at the manila folder. I felt like I was somehow betraying him by opening this folder. What would it prove if Kikyo looked like me? What difference did it make? We were obviously not the same person—the mere thought of working for such a corrupt and disgusting Government made me ill. I tried handing the folder back to Sango. She stared at me blankly.

"Go on, Kagome-chan," she said in a quiet voice.

Biting my lip, I ran my finger along the opening of the folder. The thin, sharp edge cut into my finger pads. I lifted the top half away and lowered my eyes to the picture. I observed the paperclip first, biding my time, building my courage. It secured the picture to a stack of papers that probably contained all the boring facts of Kikyo's life: her age, her hair color, her weight, etc. I followed the paperclip's curvature like a monk follows his mantra. I studied the ribbing like some important artifact uncovered in the tomb of a pharaoh.

Why did I have this overwhelming feeling of dread?

I forced myself to finally look at the picture. What I saw ripped the air from my lungs.

- Ichimu