Subversive

AN:

Sorry if this chapter seems a bit intense. I'm linking everything together in the next couple of chapters, and making sense of the mess. There's a little taste of the big picture and the problem that's about to come to a head.

Feedback is always appreciated, never expected.

ninjamidori; THANKS. I'm so glad to be back!

SexyxAngelx09 Thank you too for the warm welcome. I'm glad that you guys are still enjoying it and being so supportive.

Anime Lady PIMP; She's going to be alright, I think. Kaede is a strong woman. ;)

Thank you as always to my readers and reviewers.

The cold blanket unfurled, letting tiny droplets of rain to decimate the snowy streets; washing away the beauty of white. It seemed that the world washed away the death, which grasped Nippon with iron fingers.

It was dreary blackhole that had sucked the attention of a stout man, vacantly looking out of his window. A fire crackled warmly in the corner of his ornate apartment, overseeing the preoccupation of tired that loomed in his eyes.

He was worn down, perturbed by the absence of particular phone calls which used to be more frequent than not. Idly, his lanky fingers toyed with the rim of his brandy glass. He was calm, collected as his peon combed his dark hair.

The man was young for a person of his status, but the stress of his life had struck his face with wrinkles and graying hair in places he kept hidden. As he reached for his phone, shooing away the maid, he slumped back in his gawdy chair.

"Well, Bankotsu," He murmured as he inspected the numerous calls. "It looks like you've finally given up. No one wanted that girl around here." He sighed, taking a sip of his drink. "She doesn't need to be involved in this."

A few calls came from some of his familiars and left a sour taste in his mouth. Whenever he received those calls, it seemed as though something was going wrong. Glowering, he pulled his leather wallet from his pocket, flipping through the plastic to find a photo of Kagome. A smooth thumb ran over it, reminding him of the childhood she had.

Part of him felt remorse for leaving her, and involuntarily involving her in this mess. Yet, it was just business. If she became a factor, then she would be treated as nothing more than a hinderance to the greater plan.

In someway, everything that he had built had been for her. The loss of her mother, his wife, had been so detrimental that lashing out was the only feesible way to survive.

And, as he closed his eyes, tucking his wallet back from whence it came, Naraku replaced the displeasure with a stout, powdery euphoria.

Numbing his senses made the entire ordeal more manageable. His dark eyes fell upon the brass clock on the wall. It was time for more business. There was no rest for the wicked, it seemed. His nimble hands dialed out a familiar number, finding solace in the fact that the woman answered on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Well, good evening darling." Naraku smiled, wooing the woman smoothly.

"How are you tonight, sir? I take it you've had a busy couple of days."

"There is no such thing as a couple of days. It's part of the job, sweetheart." He paused, raising his body from his chair. "Listen, have you heard anything from that cretin, Bankotsu, lately?"

"No, I haven't. I don't believe that Koga has either."

"Have you heard anything from your husband?"

"Not since the tramp came to town and started flying off the handle." Ayame quipped sardonically.

"Oh?" Biting his lower lip in interest, he cleaned forward in his chair. "Who might this be?"

"She was a friend that started spouting off about that no good Ito boy. She and Miroku had a relationship off and on, and I assume that he's been crammed further up her ass than shit."

"Well, Ayame, that's a lovely story. But, what the fuck is this business about Ito-san?" Naraku scoffed into the phone, wiping a hand across his mouth.

"Apparently, he's close to my friend and has a son. He's living in Akita, why?" Worry. An astringent emotion that she seldom felt, crept into her veins like a disease.

"It amazes me that no one in this goddamned establishment can do their jobs correctly!" Naraku yelled into the speaker. This was news that he had never expected to hear. That man was the reason that Bankotsu was up his ass for so long. He was nothing but an ant, but he caused more financial woes that he could imagine.

"I assumed that he was dead and gone since I got rid of him." "He had no place to go and the winter was brutal this year, I would have figured..."

"You figured wrong."

"I don't understand why this is such a big deal."

'Ayame, if you want to remain alive, you best tell me everything that you know."

"I'm pregnant, Naraku. You would really do that to me?" The woman's voice was rushed, ill with the smothering fear that gripped to her throat.

"You assume I have feelings towards you, which I don't. You come over tomorrow morning and have a written report of everything that you know, or can find out." Naraku demaned, lighting his cigar with the fire.

"I haven't spoken to my friend in several days." Ayame said, trying to reason with the nefarious man.

"Find her, or I will." He said calmly, as though it didn't matter. And to him, it didn't.

The conversation died, leaving Ayame gripping to her brow. It was the first time real panic had set in for her. Never in her life had she felt guilt. But, this was karma's retribution for the bad deeds that she had done.

Nausea struck her quivering nerves, making her frantic in her efforts to plow through her drawers for Miroku's address. She didn't have time to call, she had to see them. Koga wasn't due home for at least two more days.

Drawers and cabinets flew open, sending paper flying in disarray. Never had her body, or her home, looked as disasterous as it did within those five minutes. When the frenzy eased, Ayame slammed her palms down upon her marble counter. She huffed, looking towards her womb.

The address was laying in front of her. Swallowing, she closed her eyes and blindly grabbed the paper and her coat from the rack. There was no time to make pity calls, or find comfort in anything.

She wasn't sure if it was selfishness that kept her from telling Naraku Sango's name, or if it had been for sheer concern that she may be killed. This game was becoming far to dangerous for even her liking.

As she walked out the door, Ayame clutched to the breast of her coat, hoping that this would pass as swiftly as it came.

Worry was the furthest thing from the occupants in the mura.

The smell of a hot stew filled the shanty house with warmth. Sango was relaxed, stirrying the giant pot with vigor. Shippo sat beside her, clean and dressed in his pajamas. It was nice to have the company while she cooked and talked about her day.

Miroku smiled at her from his perch at the table, going over his stacks of folders for work. Partially including the last few unsigned pages of his own divorce. His glasses sat ontop of his head as he chewed the end of his pen.

There was something soothing about the presence of a child, and this particular woman. It had only been a couple of days, but it was something that he'd have imagined to be real. This was the life that he had begged for, and finally received in such short passing.

A moment of serenity was worth the lifetime of emptiness to him. Sighing, the man grimaced at his paperwork and untied his noose. He'd barely noticed Buyo sitting in the adjacent chair, looking at a book that the boy had left open for him.

Brushing a hand through his hair, he sat his glasses down and plucked up the story book and grabbed Buyo from his lonesome seat. Sango eyed him with a grin, knowing that he was content as well.

"Shippo, would you like to come sit with me and read your new book?" The man waved to the boy sitting on the counter. Shippo's round cheeks raised tiredly as he looked at Sango for reassurance. He'd been so many places, and met so many people in the past few days that he was overwhelmed.

The trust of a child is so innocent, and once it's broken, it's unrepairable. Yet, Miroku breezed past the woman and placed a kiss upon her cheek. "Is that okay with you, Sango?" He asked, glancing down at the child. "I think he wants you to say it's okay." Miroku nudged.

The woman smirked, "Shippo, you can go with Miroku and read if you want. I'm right here, honey. I'm not going to go anywhere."

Shippo rubbed his eyes and sheepishly looked at the warmth in her face. "Thanks. Have you talked to InuYasha?" He asked, reaching for Miroku to help him off the counter top.

Sango shook her head, "No baby. I haven't. He's okay, though." Rin had been kind enough to pass along messages, but that was about it.

Miroku gave the woman a look, as if they would have to discuss him later. Earlier in the day, they had only moments of quiet before Shippo roused from his nap. Bed time was something they both looked forward to, leaving gaps to build bridges.

Sango nodded passively, watching the men folk scurry into the living room. If only her entire life could have been this peaceful. This place was like the answer to all of the prayers she'd had. Granted, it was only temporary.

It still made her heart swell with ease. She just didn't realize how fleeting of a feeling it was, as she her the faintest of taps at the door.

Sango furrowed her brows and glanced at Miroku reading to the child in his lap. Shippo was nearly asleep, snuggling Buyo to his chest. So, with a sigh, Sango wiped her hands on her towel and walked cautiously to the door.

The moment her hands parted the door, she saw Ayame. Her heart fell into her stomach and her skin crawled with distaste. "What do you want?" Sango whispered. "Do you need to see Miroku?"

"I should ask you why the hell you're still here, but I'm not. I need to talk to you." Ayame said as quietly as possible. She wrung her hands together, feeling the dampness pool in her palms.

Sango furrowed her brows and stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind her. Defensively, the woman crossed her arms over her chest. The chill made her shudder as she danced from one foot to the other.

"What's going on?"

Reaching into her purse, Ayame pulled out a small pistol and held it nervously. "If you scream, I'll fucking shoot you myself."

Sango gaped in terror, ignoring the pounding of her heart. "Wh-what the fuck is going on?"

"Tell him you're going to the store. We need to talk." She demaned, nudging her head in the direction of the house. "If you say a word about me being her, I'll destroy everything that you care about."

Sango glared at the woman. She knew that Ayame was cruel, but she was no murderer. Something had to have happened to trigger this and she wasn't going to be apart of it. Closing her eyes, Sango forcefully punched the woman in the face, catching her off guard.

Miroku heard the clatter and bolted out of the door, chest heaving as his adrenaline spiked. "What the hell is going on? Are you alright? Oh my god!" He clammored, kneeling down to Ayame's body. He placed a hand on her womb, feeling the soft kick from her child.

"Okay, the baby's alright. I'm going to call an ambulance." The man quaked, looking at Sango as though she has committed a sin.

The woman showed him her bleeding hand, "I think I just broke my hand to keep her from fucking shooting me. She has a gun somewhere." She panted, "Is Shippo alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's fine." Miroku flailed, "What the hell happened?"

"I was cooking dinner and I thought I heard a knock, and when I checked..." Sango shrugged her shoulders. "This shit has been happening since I was in Akita. When Shippo and I left, InuYasha was supposed to come with me but there was a man shooting at him." The woman began to tremble as Miroku ran back outside with his phone.

"What do you mean there was a man shooting at him?" Miroku asked, dialing the emergency line.

"I-I-I don't know. He was tall and had a scar on his lip." Sango winced, cradling her hand as she shuffled to find Ayame's gun. "There it is."

A moment had passed, and Miroku glanced at the small object at the edge of the porch. "I want you to go inside and sit down, put some ice on your hand."

"I'm a nurse, I know." Sango said flatly, glancing back to Miroku as he scoured through his cellular.

When he was sure that she was inside, the man hunkered down next to his wife and rubbed her hand. If she hadn't been so wrapped up with herself, she would have been alright. It didn't matter the situation, the child she carried had interests above theirs.

This whole ordeal would have never happened had he not been involved to begin with. Every time he scrolled through his phone, he kept stopping on Bankotsu's name. Part of him wanted to dial the number. He had avoided dealing with him as much as possible.

The bad part about being someone's lawyer was that, good or bad, you still had to put on a brave face and defend the bastard that hired you.

When Ayame came to, he would figure out what the hell was going on and take care of the matter himself. It just terrified him that that matter may be something that he didn't believe in.

Though, as the whails and cries from the ambulance came creeping into his ears, he pushed it to the back of his head and resumed being the better man.

Sometimes, just like in InuYasha's case, being the better man just kept getting him into trouble. Kagome had clung to him like a child hanging onto a stuffed animal. He'd barely gotten enough time to go take a piss alone.

She had such a strange sense of rationality that it drowned him. The hospital was quiet, leaving no chance of him leaving without her. Someone would have promptly told her and it made even getting a soda from the machine hard.

But, it wasn't his place to tell her grandmother her feelings and the wants she had for herself. No, that was all Kagome. Every last agonizing bit of it was her choice.

And, as InuYasha slumped against the illuminated machine, he relished in the alone he had. The only thing he heard was the low hum of the refrigeration system kicking in, and the low whine of the crash carts skidding across the floors.

He didn't know what had happened to him. He was ready to leave these people alone, and let them exist the way they were meant to. And what happened? He caved like rocks in an avalanche as soon as those sooty eyes fell on him.

The man closed his eyes tightly, pinching at the bridge of his nose. He felt stupid for paying so much attention to her, and allowing herself to bind herself to him. It was like she was crawling in his blood, making him rage like a hurricane with want for her.

Kagome was damaging to him. She was poisoning his state of mind with this blatant failure to the plans he had made. No. It wasn't her fault, he conceeded.

It was his for falling for her. He felt like he was giving her a false hope that she could cling to. He was digusting.

Kaede had been in the hallway while they took Old Totosai's vitals, and he'd passed the girl off on her. He still hadn't seen the elderly man since they'd arrived. InuYasha wasn't sure of his condition, but he sure as hell wasn't leaving without seeing him, regardless.

It took him a while to slow his racing mind, but when he did, InuYasha reclined in one of the uncomfortable chairs. He stared at the red string on his shoe and played with the twine for a while.

It felt good to be blank.

Blank was what he needed.

Before long, he had lulled himself to a half sleep, leaving Kagome in the proverbial wolves den to be eaten and spit back out.

Down the hall, Kaede-baba was resting on her cot, knitting a scarf. Kagome was perched on her grandfather's bed, playing a game of cards with him. The night had faired much better for the old coot.

Dying or not, if they eased off the morphine, he could actually participate amongst the living; even if it was just a little bit hazy.

When he first saw Kagome, he had livened up a bit, curling his arms around her. He was careful not to tangle her in the web of tubing they had inserted into his plump veins.

She's told him a few stories of her time back home and what had happened the day she went missing. It was brief, and almost insincere. There was no need to dredge up the past, especially when she was the present.

There was a resounding sense of passiveness in the air. Kagome was unsure how to handle the gentleness in the room, but absorbed it as best as she could. She was antsy that InuYasha hadn't returned, but what could she do?

She wasn't about to excuse herself from her ailing family. And, it was that thought, as Old Totosai laughed his gruff laugh as he won the game, that she understood what he had meant. If she could tell them that she wanted to leave, to experience the freedom of her choice, then she could come with him.

A sad smile tugged at her lips as she sat down her colorful collection of fish print cards. "Good job, Jiji!" She exclaimed, finding his toothless grin adorable.

"Well," Totosai boasted weakly, adjusting on his pillows. "I had a little spark put back in me today, thanks to you being home." He wanted to ask her about a million things. Most of which, he had obsessed over in the past year.

Yet, he refrained for both of their sakes and breathed the clean oxygen from his nasal tubes.

"I'm glad that you're moving about a little, Papa." Kaede interjected, keeping her eyes focused on her fresh knitting thread. Cautiously, she configured it in the manner she wanted and laid it upon her lap.

Totosai slowly laid a hand out for her to take and eased back into the incline of his mattress. "I hope I can get better and get out of here before I croak. I don't want to die in no hospital." He said with a bit of lightness in his voice.

Kagome smoothed the sheet with her hand as she chewed her lip nervously. Her grandfather caught it and arched a brow at her rosy face. "What's gotten you all a flutter, girl?" He rasped quietly.

Kaede grinned a little and inhaled deeply. "She has had a busy few days. She and InuYasha have been working on the house and trying to fix a few things." She said contently. "I don't know what I would do withou either of you. And, frankly, I don't know what I would do without you, Kagome." The woman garbled, finding her eyes growing heavy.

The girl felt her heart convulse. Her mind was wandering in places she didn't dare go.

"Oh?" The old man chided, trying his best to not let the sedatives overcome him. "She met the old boy?"

"Yes, Jiji. He's been really good to me." Kagome smiled warmly, letting her eyes fall on the pattern of the sheet stitching. "He's here. He just went downstairs."

"That's good. I'd like to see him. I have something for him, anyway." He said, drifting off into a subversive space in his mind.

Kaede let out a sigh as she adjusted on her bed. Her eyes fell on Kagome as she leaned down to give the man a kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Jiji." The girl murmured, finding herself more upset than when she had first arrived.

As Totosai fell asleep, becoming apart of the world he had been consumed in for days, Kaede let go of his hand and caught Kagome's attention. There was something about the way that she looked at her...

It was different. The girl brushed her hair from her eyes as she brought her focus to her grandmother. The admission wasn't judgemental, but more so brutally honest than she wanted.

"I know that you've already become attached to that boy." Kaede said, rearranging her pillows to support her aching back. "You can deny it, or sing your sad story of why you can't care, but I know that I haven't seen you so lost, and I don't think it's because of what happened to you."

Kagome lowered her head, finding solace in her recoil. "Please, Baba, I don't want to talk about him anymore. It's just a crush and nothing else." She said, recalling how he vowed his words to be true. He didn't love her, she was infantile in comparision.

Kaede rolled her eyes and began to lay down when the moniter began blaring a singular, sinister note. Kagome and Kaede's heads snapped to attention, wide awake in fear. Moments later, as they scurried to Totosai's bed, InuYasha walked in only to be tramped by the hospital staff.

"Crash cart!" Screamed a doctor, as his hands pressed into the old man's chest. InuYasha chucked his soda on the floor and instinctively grabbed Kagome.

Kaede was holding her husband's hands. A blur of sound billowed past their ears, bleding the cries into the silence that remained captured in the halls.