Chapter 10

Hair From Here To Tokyo

...

Kagome laughed. She couldn't help herself.

She'd just lived through the two most confusing, horrifying, and preposterous days of her life and all she wanted to do was lay down and take a nap and this man—infuriating man — (who had started all of this!) wanted more from her.

And not just, a 'hey, can you do me a solid'. No. Nope, definitely not. He needed her to help him save the fucking world.

Right.

Fuck.

She snorted, although the glint in her eye was not lost on the man before her. "When I said, 'What do we do?', your response was supposed to be, 'We? There is no we. I. I'll go hunt down the demon bad guys and leave you in peace.' I wasn't really asking. I did my thing. Whatever that was. You have your sword and I assume, given your strange new appearance, your power. You don't need me."

Taisho had re-sheathed the sword, watched her closely.

"Unfortunately, that is not the case."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. I gave you your sword. I guess. I don't know how I did that, but I did. Go kill the demon. And while you're at it, tell him I say hi!"

Kagome stood from the chair and stomped out of his room. She meant it. She wasn't going anywhere with him. She wasn't going on some epic quest. She did not—did not—want to start out her Wednesday with anything having to do with demons, swords, or stupidly good-looking men named Taisho. Trudging down the darkened halls of his overlarge house she tried to remember how to get down to the ground floor.

Behind her, she heard the man leave his room, following her at a distance.

"I need your help and you need mine," he called out to her.

Kagome ignored him, turned a corner, and found the stairs. Gingerly, so as not to harm her ankle, she started down the steps.

"I don't need your help. Wait, never mind, you're right. I do. I need your help locating a ride back to the museum so I can pick up my car, drive home, feed my dog, eat my TV dinner, and fall back into my normal, boring, demon free, sword free, and you free life. Besides a ride, I don't need a damn thing from you."

He followed her down the stairs, keeping his distance.

"They know who you are now."

She glared at him over her shoulder, "I'm not falling for that you damn bastard. You just want me to do what you want. Look, I believe your story now. But that doesn't mean I have to be a part of it!"

She paused, her eyes darting between two dark hallways. Choosing the one on her left she walked into the gloom, well aware that the man was still following her.

"They will come after you—"

Deep inside, Kagome felt the sudden snap, the warning before she broke into tears. The pent-up emotion and detached feeling evaporated, the enormity of the situation pulling her toward the edge of a cliff, a yawning pit of fear. Her breath came short; it was hard to see straight under all that was happening in her head. The tears welled up in her eyes, stinging, begging to be let loose over her eyelids.

No, she willed herself. Don't cry. Do not. You are much stronger than this.

Kagome, in her bare feet, slipped and slide into the entranceway and toward the door. Stumbling into it, she wrapped her hands around the doorknob and wrenched the door open, only to have it immediately slam shut in her face. A hand above her head and one at her left side told her that Taisho had caught up with her. She leaned her head against the door and closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose.

What was the likelihood she could land one elbow to his ribs? Just one?

Low to none, she admitted morosely.

Behind her, she could feel Taisho breathing. But he was calm, inhaling and exhaling evenly as if he had not just dashed down the length of the hallway, as if she hadn't just run away from him.

He could do anything he wanted, she realized. He was immensely powerful. He knew things no one else in the world knew.

Yeah, elbows weren't going to do much for her in this situation. Dammit.

"Ms. Higurashi."

Kagome turned slowly, dejectedly, and looked up at him. She leaned back against the door. He wasn't angry, as she thought he would have been. Instead, his face held something that might even be empathy.

"They will come after you," he said and she looked away, unwilling or unable to hear it. His face followed her gaze, forced her to look at him. "They'll come after the sword, too. You are right. My motives are selfish but mine will keep you alive and whole. Theirs won't. You don't need all your fingers, toes, your legs to be useful to them."

Kagome blanched, felt immediately ill. "Fuck," she whispered.

"Yes," he said. "That's nothing. Believe me when I say it is for your benefit that you stay with me." He paused, his eyes searching hers, his emotionless face partially hidden in shadow. He seemed to be considering something. "If you could do anything you wanted, anything in the world, what would you do?"

Kagome, at a loss for words, air, a sane thought, looked at the floor, quietly thinking.

"I'd have adventures."

He ducked his head again, attempting to see her face. "If you come with me, you will see things you never imagined."

"And not get my feet chopped off?" she asked weakly.

"None of that," he said, almost amused.

"I didn't fancy you a salesman. Package deal, both feet, and no death." She looked up then, the humor returning to her voice, crawling into her eyes.

"Do you want to see what would happen if the sword fell into his hands?" the man asked.

Kagome swallowed hard. "No."

"Do you want him to harm and kill others?"

"Jesus, of course not."

"Then help me. For the greater good."

God dammit. He just had to pull the selfless routine, didn't he? He really was trying to save the world.

And for that, he deserved more than her respect. He deserved her willing cooperation. The story he told her was real. And despite his haughty, disdainful, and generally patronizing demeanor, (one that constantly made her want to put him in his place) he was, as far as she could tell, a good man.

Kagome groaned inwardly, knowing that she had made up her mind already. She had known on the boardwalk when he told he told her she was the key. She'd known then that to turn away would be selfish. To say anything other than 'yes', would not only go against everything she was brought up to believe, but it would, or could, potentially end the world in the process.

Why me, she thought, dropping her head and her shoulders, feeling beaten.

It wasn't even a choice. She had to do it and he knew it, too, the bastard.

Taisho waited, seemingly patient, but Kagome knew now that he'd had her on the hook since the pier, maybe since the moment they met.

Kagome raised her head and met his eyes. "This is crazy. But, yes, I have to help you."

Taisho drew back from her, his face shadowed, but she could feel his relief.

"But before I go traipsing off to more death and destruction with you we're laying down some ground rules." He waited before her, silent. She sauntered up to him, standing on the tips of her toes, trying to bring herself up to his height, which, given her stature, was impossible. She poked him in the chest with a cold, trembling finger. "Don't you ever, ever, let me get that close to death ever again. If you say you can protect me then do it." Taisho nodded, looking grim. Or annoyed. It was difficult to tell. "And my dog still comes first. The world can wait twenty minutes while I feed him. Get that limo back here. I have a mutt to take care of."

And with that, she slipped out of the front door, leaving it wide open; a self-assured sign that she knew Taisho would follow.

…

What felt like a year later, an entirely different life, Kagome found herself in the back of a limo again.

Just like that. Demons, limos, magic. She massaged her temples, trying to ignore the absurdity of it all. It was impossible, hence, the impressive headache blooming behind her eyes.

They rode in silence. Kagome was decently certain she was in shock anyway and she couldn't seem to jump-start her brain much beyond calling herself a god damn idiot.

When the car rolled to a stop, she peered out the window warily.

"It's safe," the man said, opening his car door. He grimaced slightly, reached for his wounded shoulder.

Kagome slid out into the chilly night air. The lights from her apartment building burned warmly and she thought enviously of all the people inside, unaware that nightmares were vindictive and power hungry.

"Why don't you heal that?" she asked, stepping up to the curb.

"I cannot," he replied, applying pressure to the spot.

"Why not? You healed me easily enough."

Taisho nodded. "Yes, that was different. Do you recall when I said that the war-" he stopped, voice momentarily lost in the past. "That I had lost my arm in the fight against the demon?"

"No, I forgot all the details."

He raised an eyebrow and Kagome rolled her eyes. "Yes, I remember."

"This is the arm that I lost. This isn't my arm exactly."

Kagome imaged some sort of freakish Frankenstein surgery scene.

"Ew."

It was his turn to roll his eyes, though he did it much more elegantly and without actually doing the rolling of the eyes. He just gave the impression of someone who had and looked disdainful. Kagome fought the urge to cow beneath the weight of the disapproval.

"A powerful priestess helped me. Much of my remaining power has been channeled into maintaining this arm."

"Bleh," Kagome said, stomach churning.

"It's second nature now, but exhausting nonetheless. Now that it is injured, I do not possess the skills necessary to heal it. I must go to those who can do what I cannot."

"Where is that?"

"Japan."

"I haven't been there in a while," Kagome said. There were shadows beneath her words, a loneliness flitting from corner to corner.

Taisho shifted, trying to get a better view of her face in the dark. "You do not wish to go?"

"Did I say that? No. I need to take care of my dog," she said suddenly, turning from the curb and toward the slick stairs leading to the second floor of the building. "I'll just go—"

Taisho was already following behind her, just a step back.

"Or, yes, please, come into my home," she muttered.

"I thought you didn't want to 'come that close to death again'?"

"Are they hiding in my one bedroom?" Kagome asked, ascending the stairs gingerly, hissing when her ankle tweaked painfully.

As she stopped at her door, she stood on the tips of her toes and slid her fingers along the top of the doorframe. A key fell from the frame and Taisho reached out, catching it in the palm of his large hand. He held it up to his face and then looked at the woman in disbelief.

"I left my keys in my purse, my purse in my car, and my car at the museum. I keep an extra above the door when the billionaires come to tell me they need me to save the world."

"It's a wonder you've survived this long," he said, brushing her aside to insert the key into the lock.

"What—"

He ignored her completely and stepped within the apartment, making a quick sweep with his senses. Inside, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Kagome pushed past Taisho none too politely. Upon her entrance into the apartment, Taisho heard the prance of feet, echoing in the kitchen. Kagome's spoiled mutt ran to greet her, ignoring the tall man who hovered behind her. The woman squealed happily and dropped to her knees, hugging the animal to her chest, scratching her fingers through its fur.

And then, to his utter displeasure, she turned toward the door, grabbed a leash, and hooked it around the dog's belly.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she stepped back over the threshold.

"He needs a walk," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

That was how Taisho, demon hunter, wielder of powerful bossy blades, found himself wandering around the block trailing after a creature that couldn't move any slower if it tried.

"Why is it so slow?" he asked more to himself than Kagome.

She ignored him, cooed at the dog and then, once they were back in the apartment, went off to the kitchen to feed the dog. When she bustled by the doorway to the kitchen she found the man peering at the picture frames on her wall.

"Snooping?"

He did not take his eyes off of the pictures. Instead, he leaned closer to get a better look. "Snooping would require me to sift through things that were not placed in plain sight."

But he got the hint and moved to sit on her couch.

"That couch sucks," she called from the kitchen and he heard her snicker darkly when he sat and hissed unhappily.

She needed a raise. No one, least of all guests, should be forced to sit on furniture that uncomfortable. Kagome appeared in the doorway a moment later. She was diminutive, swimming in his clothes.

"So," she said, perching on her uninjured foot. "What's the plan?"

"We leave tomorrow, early morning," he said, trying and failing to get more comfortable. It was an impossible task. "We'll take my private jet to Japan. I need to take care of this," he gestured to his injury, "and the sword has something it wants us to do."

"Who's the master here, you or that sword?"

There was a time Taisho would have beheaded a lesser man… or woman… for those words. Sometimes he missed those days. Annoying people? Threaten them with the sword. Bad furniture? Chop it up with the sword. Sassy, mouthy women? Cut their pretty heads from their shoulders.

Well, alright, no, he'd never actually done that but it was a very tempting threat.

"All that sounds great," Kagome was saying, "but I don't know what to do with Ajax. How long are we going to be gone? I can't leave him. A week tops. But I don't even know who to call to come to watch him on such short notice."

Taisho laid the sword on her rickety coffee table, his eyes trailing around the room, bored. "One of the benefits of being a very rich man is that I know plenty of people who can take care of minor inconveniences."

"Ajax is not an inconvenience."

"Not for you."

Kagome dropped onto the other end of her couch. He could see her working the muscles in her jaw. She was biting her tongue. "I don't care what kind of pet nanny or doggy spa you know of. I don't want to leave him for extended periods of time. How long are we going to be gone?"

Taisho scornfully examined the bloodstain on his white shirt, plucking it at and peeling it away from the tender wound.

"Indefinitely."

"Indefinitely?"

"I told you, I have plenty of people to take care of him."

"I don't doubt that you do, but I don't know your people and he's my only family."

"I thought that saving the world would come before your damn dog."

"Well," she said, and her voice echoed hollow and tired, "you were wrong." She stood from the couch and gazed down at him for a long, tense moment. Then she laughed darkly and the sadness lifted from around her, flying away on swift wings. "But you're a smart man. I'm sure you'll figure out something." She turned and padded down the hallway toward what Taisho presumed to be her bedroom. "If you come up with a solution I agree to I'll pack. I'm taking a shower and going to bed. Don't even think about coming in here," she said, head peeking back around the hallway corner, glaring.

"I would not dream of it," he said, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. "Though you did offer."

"You son of a—" the rest of the insult was cut off by the slam of her bedroom door.

The sword on the table began to glow. He could see it from behind his eyelids. Sitting upright, he reached out, drifted his fingers over the hilt. It heated to his touch. That was a familiar feeling that nearly sent him reeling. The fiery burning sensation that crawled across his skin was a precursor, a warning. It was the feeling he had experienced once, long ago, before he could touch the sword. Before the first Protector had given him the blade. For the first time in his long life, Taisho felt an emotion close to panic. His mind raced.

Her emotions could be felt by the sword.

No, he thought, as the heat flared warningly, it was worse than that.

She could still control the sword.

Kagome had given him permission to wield the blade, but she could take it away as quickly as she had given it. She was annoyed with him, distrusting, and the moment her emotions flared the sword replied in kind.

This knowledge was necessary to him and vital to his enemies. If she was taken, she could be coerced, forced, tortured, into reclaiming the sword. Reclaiming it for his enemies.

Just like he told her.

Well, he thought, that was all sorts of bad fucking news.

This was also a predicament for him because he would have to continue or attempt to continue the exhausting task of charming her. But, now that she had seen past his good looks and false appeal, he was not entirely sure that would work. She had seen the man he really was and that man made her regularly annoyed and furious.

A small disturbance at his feet made him look down.

The dog had returned and was now sitting, much to Taisho's indignation, on his feet. If he had not been so sure Kagome would take his sword and run it through his belly, Taisho would have skewered the thing where it sat.

"Ah, the bane of my existence."

The dog simply cocked its head at him before it started sniffing the legs of his expensive trousers, white dog hair appearing like a different sort of magic, all up and down the material.

Muttering obscenities, he shooed the dog away. He knew what he had to do. And he was not pleased to think that the silly creature behind him would soon be living in his home, snuffling, and getting its hair from here to Tokyo.

The dog slinked back around the coffee table and plopped on his feet again.

Dammit.