I Will Find You Again

An InuYasha alternate by Wolfye Productions.

All InuYasha characters are © Rumiko Takahashi, Viz Communications, Inc., Shonen Sunday, Sunrise and Nihon TV. Characters are used without the express prior permission of the aforementioned. Story concept, other characters and original situations are © Wolfye Productions; this fanfic is written for entertainment purposes only.

I know many folks have been waiting for an update, and I apologize for taking such a long hiatus. Many unhappy things have happened to me over the past couple years. I hope you enjoy this new chappie, and I will now work on the next installment of FD. Jaa. –wolfye p.

Part 09: Imprisonment

Hojo trudged wearily home, having finally finished his last class of the day. The time was just after seven, and he was about a block away from his apartment. Chem lab was fun for the most part, but his lab partner left much to be desired for. Not to say that Noriko was a bad lab partner; it was more along the lines of her being a complete ditz, where he had to repeat everything at least two times before she would understand anything, and even then she would miss a step or two, forcing them to have to repeat the entire experiment all over again. It was annoying to ay the least; annoying and entirely draining. He couldn't wait until the semester was over and hopefully he would never have to see her ever again.

Immersed in thoughts of laboratory hell, he rounded the corner without looking and bumped into someone. After the initial shock wore off, Hojo looked up to apologize to the person when the words died on his lips.

"You!" he exclaimed, glaring pointed daggers at the very last person he would have asked to bump into.

"Hey, sorry about that," Minoru said quickly, raising his hands up in defense. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

Damn, Hojo thought as his hazel eyes narrowed a fraction, he's playing the nice card. He really didn't like the guy - something about him just seemed to rub him the wrong way, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it just yet. He quickly decided that he didn't want to get into an argument with the guy after his long day.

"Yeah, same here," he replied in as civil a tone was he could muster.

Minoru nodded at him, then started off again towards campus. After a few steps, however, he paused and called back over his shoulder, not even bothering to fully look around.

"By the way, how's Kagome doing?"

Hojo stopped again, this time out of suspicion. "Why do you wanna know?" He turned around, glaring heatedly at the other man's back. There was that eerie feeling again.

"Oh, just curious," the other man replied casually before taking off again, quickly disappearing around the corner where he had come from.

Hojo stared after the man for awhile, not knowing what to make of his cryptic question and subsequent brush-off. Too tired to thoroughly process what Minoru might have been insinuating, he finally shrugged off the strange encounter and continued on his way home, thoughts of the other man being crazy drifting wearily through his mind as he opened the gate to his apartment complex.

Roughly three-hundred years ago...

The famed Great Lord of the Western Lands shifted restlessly against the bonds that wrapped around his wrists, securing him to the wall he leaned against, and which prevented him from moving more than a few inches from the slime-encrusted stone. His hands were bound above his head as he sat on the floor, nothing but the shredded remnants of his once-pristine silk hakama shielding him from the grime, dirt and dried blood that covered the dungeon floor.

Sesshoumaru flexed his wrists a bit and inwardly winced as a jolt of purification shot through his system like a bolt of lightening. He grimaced, cursing the holy humans that had bound him into such a predicament.

It had taken roughly fifty of them—an odd conglomeration of Shinto priests and priestesses, and Buddhist monks—in order to finally take him down. He smiled, in spite of his current situation, remembering that it had originally been well over two-hundred of them, backed by an army of over ten-thousand soldiers that had first stormed his stronghold. His own army had fallen prey to the combined might of tactical offense and holy magic. On his own, he had taken down nearly half of the invading army before they finally managed to overpower him, using specially-made binds that coursed with the purification powers of their strongest. Though he was fairly impervious to being purified unlike his weaker youkai troops, when subjected to such strong amounts such as which flowed through the chains that held him prisoner long enough, even he was weakened to the point of a human.

The sound of a click, then metal sliding across metal, the high pitch resounding against his sensitive eardrums, signaled the opening of the main door to the dungeon area. Immediately, a bright shaft of light penetrated the dark and dismal surroundings, briefly obscuring the identity of the figure that strode down the steps and into the room. But he didn't need to see to know who the person was.

Her scent reminded him strongly of that of rotting fruit, and he snorted in a vain attempt to rid his nostrils of the disgusting smell. Her name was Kimeko, a miko of fairly immense power, and one of the leaders of the so-called Holy Order. Sesshoumaru scoffed at the thought. Although she was considered by many humans of this time to be extremely powerful, he remembered a certain priestess from over two centuries ago whose own raw power would make this female's power look like a simple light show. Mighty indeed. It appeared to him that the powers of these holy humans were beginning to slowly dissipate with time. It was very likely that his binds were imbued with the powers of more than a hundred of their kind in order for it to be so strong.

Another scent invaded his senses, even as the sounds of multiple footsteps made their way closer to his cell. The sounds of scuffling, accompanied by muffled shouting and harsh reprimands, indicated that one of the others in the party was bound, gagged and attempting to overcome its captors. As they drew closer, a niggling sense of familiarity in that one's scent made itself known, but to whom the scent belonged to kept escaping his weary mind. His question was finally answered when the group rounded the corner to his back area of the vast dungeon.

The young demon struggled in vain against the four priests that held and dragged him along. Kimeko led the group to their destination with head held high, the haughty bitch sporting a sneer of disgust at her surroundings. Sesshoumaru knew that her hatred of youkai ran deep, deeper than the average holy person's dislike of all demons, and he was fairly certain that it had to do with the three long scars that stretched over her right eye from the temple to her pointed chin. Whatever the cause, it was her extreme hatred combined with her supreme powers that had fueled the Holy Resistance since its infancy.

Any further thoughts on the subject were derailed when the screeching sounds of the cage next to him opened and the young demon thrown inside. One look at the shock of bright auburn hair and Sesshoumaru knew. So, the boy was still alive after all these years, he thought to himself as he watched the kit he remembered as Shippou attempt to regain his footing. With quick precision, a swiftness that belied the many times they'd had to practice the maneuver, he watched as Kimeko laid a hand on the kit, shocking the kit into unconsciousness, while the four soldiers chained the kit to the wall in similar fashion to his own. Lastly, as though an act of mercy, they removed the gag before shuffling out of the small cell and locking the iron gate to freedom.

Just as last time when he had been brought here, he watched as the human bitch placed a hand upon the rotting bars and chanted, effectively raising a barrier to encase the cell. It was odd, Sesshoumaru thought, that she would put the two of them in the furthest corner of the dungeons. He could smell and hear that they were not the only demons being held captive down here; and yet, he, and now the kit, were the sole occupants in this back area. To what purpose, he wondered to himself.

To his utter disgust, his fleeting thoughts apparently signaled the bitch to look his way, and his stomach would have up-heaved its revulsion at the wanton looks she gave him were it not for the fact that he was starved nearly to death.

"''Tis such a pity, my lovely pet," Kimeko crooned as she stepped over to stand in front of his own meager cell. "Should you have been human, I would have fancied you."

A feral growl that shook the ground they stood upon was her only answer, making her smirk in revolting joy. The soldiers wisely took a step or two back, but none advised the priestess to maintain her distance. She was widely known for her fearlessness for all demonkind.

"Now now, my pet," the priestess replied, the insolence in her grating voice enraging Sesshoumaru even more so than before, "You'll simply have to wait your turn. Do not worry; Kimeko shall not forget your role in what is to come."

That gave him pause. This was the first time since he had been locked down here that he had heard anything of why they were keeping him prisoner instead of killing him like they had everyone else. He lifted fiery golden eyes to hers, wishing for her to continue her little monologue so that he could gain more information.

Her smile grew still as their eyes connected, accentuating her hideousness all the more.

"Ah, I see you are a curious one," she cooed at him, and he had to clench his jaw to keep the growl from rising within his throat. "But alas, I cannot tell. You shall find out for yourself soon enough."

With that, she turned to make her leave, the soldiers following her out of the dungeons, and Sesshoumaru found himself alone again without any answers to his burning questions.

A pitiful groan and movement to his right caused him to divert his attentions to the filthy kit next to him. A cursory glance over the kit told him that the young one had not suffered too greatly from the human's malicious treatments, though he was covered in dirt and dried blood. A delicate sniff told him that it wasn't the kit's own blood that covered him, and he wondered why.

Golden eyes trailed down as something moved across the disgusting floor beneath the kit, and Sesshoumaru was surprised to see 5 long fox tails protruding from the young demon's pubic bone. Perhaps at one time, the tails were a magnificent sight to behold; but now the long hairs were matted in filth. Of course, the bearer was not in any better condition, he noticed as the kit finally righted himself, taking care not to jostle the chains holding him to the wall. He could smell where the chains had already burned the young one's wrists from when he had lain unconscious on the floor. To his credit, the kit never cried once from the purification burns.

Dirt-caked lids opened to reveal fierce emerald eyes.

Shippou's eyes swiveled wildly around in bloodstained sockets as he tried to get his bearings. Memories of cruel purification rose to the surface of the storm and he suddenly remembered where he was, but not why. Blinking a few times to clear his mind, he reopened his eyes to take in his surroundings with a clearer mind when he stopped up short.

Impossible, he thought, though his eyes and nose surely could not be mistaken. Next to him sat the Western Lord looking worse for wear, chained to the back wall in the exact manner as he was. He gulped. Much to his consternation, the Lord was directing frozen golden eyes right back at him as though searing into his very soul. Did he remember him? Oh crap! Immediately, Shippou dropped his gaze and shifted uncomfortably on the grimy floor, grimacing when he realized that his once pristine tails were now covered in whatever gross stuff caked the floors.

What the hell was going on?

- Oh Mama! -

Her breath hitched and her heart beat a million times a minute. It felt like she was going to end up fainting again, but strong arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders, and she leaned into them for support, uncaring at the moment of whom exactly it was those arms belonged to. All she could think of was her kit.

Shippou! Was he still alive? And oh gods! He had been in prison with that horrible, horrible woman! Tears threatened to spill in her horrific realization of all the possible atrocities that her kit might have had to go through at the hands of that wretched priestess, and she had been helpless to save him. Please gods, she prayed, please let him have survived and been okay! After everything she had gone through and imagined since being locked away in her time, she had never once considered her poor kit being in danger, the thought that InuYasha would have been there for him her one comfort towards her kit.

Then logic hit her like a freight train. If Shippou had been captured by that priestess, then what had become of InuYasha? Oh gods! Kagome felt like she was going to be sick. Her vision swam again. No, not again!

Large hands played soothing circles upon her lower back.

"I have said too much," a low voice murmured softly in her ear.

It was then that Kagome registered that she was now sitting in Sesshoumaru's lap, and he was cuddling her like a whimpering child. How the heck—

Attempting to extricate herself from the youkai's sudden vice-like grip on her, she struggled to put together a string of coherent thoughts. She finally decided on one.

"Lord Sesshoumaru, I need to go home."

He suddenly grew stiff. Had she offended him?

"I'm grateful for you telling me all this," she hurried to placate him lest he think her an ingrate. "It's just that this is more than I thought I could handle, even after all these years. Please understand," she said in a small voice. Really, she couldn't do much more.

Somehow, Sesshoumaru relaxed, and she quietly congratulated on not getting decapitated after all her years of surviving Sengoku Jidai. Wow, at least her sarcasm was back.

His arms fell onto the couch like iron bars being loosed, and Kagome shakily got to her feet. Turning, she bowed lowly to him. "Thank you Lord Sesshoumaru."

A long finger that should have been tipped in an elegant claw hooked her chin and tilted her head back up, and she found herself staring into pools of liquid gold, set off by the flames dancing in the fireplace. Whatever he had been searching for, she supposed that he found it, for he nodded once and got up from the couch.

"Do you require an escort back to your home?"

Kagome blushed, for reasons she knew not. "Um… No, I don't think so. Are we still in downtown?"

He nodded again, long silver locks flickering yellow and orange in the low light of the room.

"Then I can find my way home. Thank you."

Sesshoumaru blinked. "Very well. I shall escort you out."

"Thank you," she said again, making herself feel like a broken record.

"Kagome," he said, catching her by surprise at hearing her name drop from his lips, "You may call me Sesshoumaru. There is no need for formality between old friends."

Her brain skipped a step and stumbled. All she could do was nod back at him, following him out the door and back down the stairs. Friends? He considered them friends? That was… unexpected. She hesitated to give the feeling another name, her thoughts still in turmoil over hearing what had happened to Shippou centuries ago, and her imagination supplying wild information about her lost love.

They paused at the dining table, where the demon lord gestured to her long-missing pack. Reaching out with shaking hands, she picked up the worn yellow sack, fleetingly wondering at how the material managed to remain intact after five-hundred years. Surely it should have disintegrated by now. When Sesshoumaru made another gesture for her to take the lead to the front door, she missed the way the youkai looked longingly at the pack in her arms as she walked past.

Once out the front door, Kagome quickly realized that they were in fact in a hotel. If the ornate elevator right in front of them wasn't much of a clue, then the lobby was once they stepped out into it. Surprise and awe flitted over her features as the staff and many of the patrons bowed to Sesshoumaru as they passed. He was still truly the demon lord he had always been, despite how much he did not look the part any longer, which was still something she was dying to understand. Such a shame she had not been able to bear to hear any more of the story that night.

The couple reached the outer hotel doors much too soon for either party's liking, though for much different reasons.

She hesitated only a moment. "Will… will I see you again?"

Kagome hated how small her voice sounded just now, but it was the best she could do under her emotional strain.

Though his face did not betray it, his eyes did, as amusement swirled through the gold gazing back down at her. "Hn."

A small smile graced the angelic face before him, and his heart warmed at the sight. Before he could utter another word, or even feel the inclination to do so, Kagome turned from him and walked through the double-paned glass doors to the world outside. He remained there for several seconds, watching as her lithe figure disappeared amongst the crowds that plagued downtown Tokyo, and then he too turned and headed back to his suite.

As he waited for the elevator to return to the main floor, he reflected on the now-absent pack. For centuries he had had that pack in his care, taking it with him wherever he went in his travels, local and abroad. Now, it was gone, returned to its rightful owner, and he suddenly felt its absence keenly. But the pang did not overwhelm him as much as he had imagined it would, as he had found something much more precious to fill the void.

Pulling out his cell phone, he brought up his speed dial and called the first contact on it. Hearing it ring a few times, he was pleased when a deep voice answered.

"I want you here as of yesterday," was all Sesshoumaru said before he hung up, not waiting for a reply from the recipient.

A flash of green lighted the corridor briefly as the elevator doors opened to take him back to the top, and once again the lord wore his mokomoko upon his shoulder. Pressing the correct button, he turned his head and buried his nose into the soft silvery fur, taking in the strong scent of the miko that had graced his bed mere hours before.

Yes, he would sleep well tonight; perhaps the best he had had in many centuries.