Kagome woke with a start as Miroku patted her cheek to wake her. The pre-dawn light softened his hard expression.

She sat up quickly, "What's wrong?"

His expression didn't change as he answered, "She left."

"No.." she whispered, her brow furrowing in concern. She saw the blood on Miroku's injured left hand.

"Yes." he said with resigned finality. His shoulders were slouched forward, lacking even the energy or will sit up. He turned his stone gaze to the barred window and remained silent. It had been a trying night.

Because of her volatile nature, Sango always left in a violent rush. Her padded room was still in ruins due to the halted construction and there was only one other room safe enough to hold her.

"Where is she now?" Kagome asked quietly, knowing the answer.

"The one room that can hold her right now, next to Onigumo's..." he covered his eyes with his bloodied hand, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No..!" she protested weakly.

He looked at her in exasperation, "I had no choice. All we can do now is hope that he quiets down."

Almost as if on cue, they were both interrupted by Onigumo's high pitched shriek. Miroku sighed and lifted himself off the edge of Kagome's bed, his back to her. It was then that she saw how tired he was. Sango was not an easy person to subdue.

He stood there for a moment, taking in the noise from Onigumo's room and holding his bloodied hand.

"What pushed her?" Kagome asked gently.

He sighed again and turned toward her, "Kohaku. She found an old blade of his while hanging clothes in the wardrobe." He chuckled humorlessly, "I should have thrown it out, but I know that she'd never forgive me if I did."

Kagome's sadness deepened. In happier times, she knew that Sango had been possessed of a loving family. She was especially close to her younger brother, who she'd helped to raise. Kohaku had enjoyed swordplay, a hobby that ultimately led to the families end. The trauma of their loss continued to be too much for Sango's untried heart to bear.

"We haven't heard from the police in a while." Kagome commented, thinking of recent events on the subject.

Miroku shook his head, "We won't again. The only fingerprints found were Kohaku's. As far as they're concerned, the case is closed."

"But there's no way." she continued ardently. "Kohaku was a child."

"He was," Miroku agreed, "but they did not know his character as we do. They only saw a suspect, a weapon and evidence. Not that the evidence mattered anyway. They only used it to justify what they did to him."

She looked down at her hands that rested atop the patchwork quilt over her legs. She knew he was right.

"You know," Kagome said, still looking down, "she was here for so long.. I was beginning to hope.."

His expression fell, "So was I."

The pair fell silent again. Hope was dangerous. It made everything harder when those hopes were dashed. All they could do each time was find what had pushed her and hide it so that when she returned, she might never leave again.

Miroku shook his head and walked briskly to the door, "I'll be preparing breakfast." he said.

They both jumped, startled, at another shriek from Onigumo. He began to yell horrible obcenities, calling out all in the building by name. The only one spared from the barrage of filth was Kagome, who listened only to see that her name remained absent from his list.

This was the loudest either had ever heard him. And the most graphic. He'd chosen a new personality this time, and his howling continued for well upon an hour. His shrill voice screamed through the walls, "I know your thoughts! Goshinki sees all! It's mine! Mine!" What followed was every dark detail on every patient in the ward. It was as if he were reading from their case files.

He punctuated these case readings with high pitched, joyful laughter, almost a cackle. To Kagome, he sounded very much like an ogre; full of evil. She'd always known him to be this way.

She shivered and stood from the bed, knowing sleep was hopeless and glad that breakfast would be coming soon anyway. She walked over to her art table and sat down but the only thing she was able to paint amid the screeching noise was Sango's name.

As she painted, Onigumo's raving had grown darker, more disturbing and much more detailed. She was subjected to every bone shattering detail at his willing hand and voice. It was more than she could take.

By the time Miroku returned with breakfast and a bandaged palm, Kagome was weeping into her shaking hands.

Miroku sighed. How was he supposed to care for his patients when a single resident had them all by the throat.

He approached her gingerly, "You need to get out of this room. There's no telling how long 'Goshinki' will be with us. You'll sleep in my quarters and I'll stay in here." He offered his hand and lifted her to her feet.

She shook her head, tears still flowing, "You can't." she protested, " you've got enough to overcome without… this."

"And you don't?" he countered with emotion, "You will not remain in this room a second longer while 'Goshinki' is here. I will not abide it. That's final."

Kagome managed a weak smile until 'Goshinki' began singing a jovial song from the point of view of a young boy who was being mutlilated. Miroku paled and pulled Kagome quickly out of the room and through the large metal door. He shut it quickly, locking all sound in the other side.

He walked over and wrapped the shaken Kagome into a comforting embrace as she sobbed into his shirtfront.

"Shhh…shhh.." he soothed, rubbing her back.

The color stayed drained from his face as he processed this new development within his most challenging patient. He suspected 'Goshinki' was the personality who spoke horrible things late at night for Sango to hear. Knowing that within her angry walls, she heard every word…

Miroku vowed to find balance and safety once again. There had to be a way to treat everyone successfully without one patient ruining all progress. He was glad at this opportunity to sleep in Kagame's room for the foreseeable future. He hoped it would prove fortuitous and give him insight into the many minds of Onigumo.

As Kagome quieted, Miroku forced a smile. "Why don't we eat breakfast in the garden?" he asked in an attempt to coax a smile from her.

She managed a nod and Miroku moved away to retrieve two breakfast plates from the forgotten cart. She followed him out to the white, iron table near the peach tree. They ate quietly, enjoying the silence and the peaches Sango had picked.

Kagome looked around as she ate. A warm breeze rustled the leaves overhead and the ivy that was beginning to creep onto the garden wall. The warmer weather had brought more birds to the garden and their musical voices were a welcome tonic for her troubled heart.

Eventually, Miroku gathered their plates and returned indoors to finish distributing breakfasts. Kagome remained at the small, outdoor table for the rest of the morning. She at lunch there as well, only leaving when the last light had faded in the west.

The ward's two caretakers passed the next few days in a similarly subdued fashion. The weather continued to warm and the fruit continued to ripen. Their breakfast plates were now a rainbow of ripe berries and sliced fruit.

As the days wore on, Kagome began preparing the breakfasts herself, in an effort to let Miroku rest in his own bed for a time. She watched him wilt a little more with each passing night. He was already drawn and pale thanks to Onigumo's clairvoyant and loud personality.

His bloodied words were becoming unexplainable. Miroku simply could not account for the level of knowledge this personality had.

"Something interesting occurred last night." he said to Kagome one morning after breakfast.

"Oh? What's that?" she asked, propping her chin on her hands.

"Goshinki sang a song about my own grandfather. He died of infection last year: a fact Goshinki seemed to know." he said.

Kagome lifted her head in surprise, "How on earth could he know that?" She softened, "I'm so sorry you had to listen to that."

Miroku shook his head, "It was nothing compared to his previous 'songs'. But what's more interesting is that halfway through the song, Naraku surfaced and seemed to abuse 'Goshinki'. Naraku punished him for disobedience."

"Does that make Naraku their leader?" Kagome asked seriously, trying to piece together this information.

Miroku's eyes lit up, "More like the tyrannical ruler. It seems as if these personalities are his lackeys to punish at will if they displease him."

"How do they displease him?" Kagome asked nervously.

"So far, only when they reveal too much." He said. It was all the information he had, "In any case, Onigumo has been quiet since."

Kagome nodded, wanting to move on from the subject at hand. They were treading on old battlegrounds where one false step meant more episodes.

She suddenly needed reassurance, "Are you sure he doesn't know?"

Miroku reached for her hand, "Yes." he said with finality, "You are our best kept secret."

A shiver ran up her spine and stayed with her for the rest of the day, despite the comfort from her friend. Her thoughts ran wild to the ward, her haven, and all that it protected. But who would protect the ward? Their benefactor was still missing and if he didn't return soon, all would be lost.

Miroku never wavered in his confidence of their benefactors return, however Kagome could see the cracks starting to form. He was getting tired and she didn't know how long he keep things up.

Kagome spent the remainder of her day weeding the garden and tidying up the main room as Miroku prepared meals and emptied bed pans.

A quiet evening filled with her worried thoughts.

It was dark when her thoughts finally left her. She was tucked in plush blankets up to her chin, glad to let sleep finally claim her.

It was then that a knock sounded at the ward's front door.

It was one o'clock in the morning when Kagome knocked on the metal door of her usual room. Immediately, she heard quick steps and the door was flung open by an alert Miroku.

His eyes fell on a frightened, barefoot Kagome who shivered in her nightgown.

Her lip trembled with fear. "Someone's knocking at the door." she said in a shaky voice, "And they're not going away."

He reacted quickly, taking her arm and pulling her into the room. He stepped into the hall and locked the door behind him. After this, Miroku took great care in closing and locking the larger metal door as quietly as he could.

His stockinged feet padded across the room and down the hall until he reached the front door. The persistent knocking was sharp and pointed in intervals of three. Kagome was right. Whoever was at the door, they were not going away.

Miroku looked down as the knocking stopped and the knob was tested from the outside. He took a few steps back and then stomped his feet back to the door, signaling his approach. He steadied himself for the worst, expecting to see the man they all feared with a long black braid and a sharp-toothed grin.

He took a deep breath, opened the door, and slumped against the frame in relief.

"Good heavens, Sister, you nearly killed me." he accused breathlessly. His hand covered his pounding heart.

The nun on the front step pursed her lips impatiently, "I thought we had an agreement that if I needed ye I could knock at the appointed time, which was a half hour ago."

He nodded, "Yes we did, however we are in the middle of an unusual sleeping arrangement and I was out of earshot."

The elderly sister sighed, obviously tired herself. "I am here with a favor to ask." she began seriously.

Miroku did not like the sound of that. He didn't like to leave a woman shivering in the middle of the night either, so he offered her an invitation, "Sister Kaede, please come inside. We can discuss this favor in front of a dry fire instead of making ourselves ill out here in the damp air."

"Very well." she accepted, "Shippo, come along."

A very small child draped in a thick blanket appeared from the shadows. Miroku was hit with the metallic smell of rotten blood.

He fought not to cover his nose. 'A favor indeed..' he thought. Kaede, what new challenge have you brought on my doorstep this night?

The nun led the child into the warm hall and they followed Miroku into the kitchen. He lit a small fire in the fireplace and joined them at the kitchen table nearby.

He walked over and kneeled in front of the child who was still draped in the blanket. "Hello there," he said cheerfully, fighting his gag reflex at the smell, "My name is Miroku. I take care of everyone in this big house. What's your name?"

Instead of responding, the blanket seemed to shrink until it was a tightly curled ball on the floor.

Kaede chimed in, then. "He won't answer ye. I'll have to pass along his story."

"Very well then." Miroku said. He motioned for her to begin.

"Shippo is, of course, a new orphan. He's been with me for a full 4 months now." she explained, "His father's life was taken by the Spider."

He returned her meaningful gaze. The Spider was a particularly cruel serial killer that had filled the community with paralyzing fear only a few months before. In a very short time, he had managed to snuff out several dozen lives.

"I see." he looked down at the crumpled blanket and reached out to touch the boy's covered head. At his touch, the blanket stilled even further.

Kaede continued, "This case was one of The Spiders worst, for reasons I do not want to repeat in front of the child. He's lived it once already. It is enough."

Miroku's eyebrows rose. The child must still be dealing with a great amount of trauma. A confused expression soon crossed his face and he asked, "Why are you bringing him here? You know we are a last resort, especially for children."

"The decision was not mine. He has attempted to harm a few of the other children, for no other reason than his single-minded need for safety. Mind you, he is not malicious." she added quickly.

"I wouldn't think so." he readily agreed, "So the best way to ensure the safety of all of the children in your care is for him to take up residence here?"

"Aye. You are the best chance he has at healing." she confirmed.

Miroku leaned down and reached for the edge of the blanket, lifting it. The fire light flicked over the boys rounded cheeks and blank, glassy eyes. What he could see of his face was caked in old, rancid blood. It filled his heart with sadness.

"Very well." he said as he lowered the blanket once more, "It seems we have no choice. You may leave him with me and I will care for the boy. But I will eventually need more information on his experience."

Kaede removed a small envelope from her front pocket and handed it to Miroku. "Yes ye do," she said, "This letter contains all of the information ye will need. Please read it in private and keep it away from his eyes."

He nodded and asked a few more pointed questions before rising to see her to the door. She offered her sincerest thanks and promised to visit the next afternoon to help him settle, as well as deliver his meager belongings.

Miroku pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion after locking the front door securely.

He returned to the fire to find that Shippo had not stirred. Lifting the blanket, he saw that the boy was fast asleep, his long lashes resting on his bloodied cheeks.

He leaned down and scooped him up, careful to keep the blanket wrapped around him.

A detail from his conversation with Kaede danced around his mind, lighting the way of this new challenge before him. This child must be a very special case indeed for Dr. Taisho to send him here. Miroku hadn't been aware that he shared such confidence with Kaede.

In her desperation, she had written to Sesshoumaru for sound advice, which came in the form of the nearby ward.

Shippo stirred then, a small whimper coming from his lips. Miroku put his thoughts away for the morning and carried him to bed.

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Hello all! This was a very melancholy chapter, yes. You'll notice that I've changed the rating from T to M because it's about to get gory and disturbing up in here. Buckle your seatbelt.

Don't worry though, there will still be happiness and humor.

Thank you for all the reviews! You guys make me blush so easy. I truly appreciate your commentary and your reading this story.

I'm missing Sesshoumaru big time. I hope he comes back soon.