Chapter Fourteen
To say that Kurama was upset might have been something of an understatement. Sango couldn't really understand why. Honestly, if anyone should be angry here it was she.
The huntress waved her hand dismissively, ignoring the look the fox had given his fire demon companion. Who did he think he was fooling anyway, Sango thought as she threw her chips in to call. It frustrated her, really. Kurama was always so damned composed, but the demon slayer knew better. She could tell by the stone-hard glint in the lush green of his eyes. He wasn't just irritated; he was down right angry.
Oh well. Piss on him.
"Two pair," Jin grinned devilishly, locking her gaze. He just knew he had this one in the bag. "Tens and twos. Let's see ya beat it, girl."
Sango smiled, and it was slow and deliberate as she laid her cards out on the table. "Trip Jacks," she said, ignoring the groan from across the way as she swept her pool in, leaving behind only enough for the ante in the next hand. "Too bad, Jin. Lose 'em."
Chu leaned over, slinging his arm around the wind apparition's shoulders. "Jus' 'tween you and me, mate," he slurred in a whisper that absolutely everyone in the room could hear, "I don't think she's not played this before. A regular barracuda, that one."
Jin sighed, shrugging the heavy arm from his frame as he stood and loosened the strings of his waistband. Poor sucker; she already had everything else.
"The only thing you're going to lose is your fingers if you proceed," Hiei interjected, pinning the apparition down with a scalding glare and ignoring Chu's hearty guffaw from his left. Hiei had clearly expressed his marked disgust with their particular choice of entertainment, but Jin couldn't help but notice he hadn't taken his leave of them.
Rather interesting, that.
"Yes, I believe that won't be necessary, Jin," Kurama spoke quietly, his response clipped and cool. He might have been speaking to the wind master, but the fox only had eyes for one person in the room. "We've got an early day tomorrow."
The slayer leveled him with a pointed stare, not at all ready to turn in for the evening. She cocked one perfectly arched brow and tilted her head to the side, slightly. "So, go to bed," she replied, tone pleasant though there was no mistaking the slight edge of her words. "We'll be quiet."
The fox regarded her coolly, no small amount of concern worming its way into his chest. 'How much, Hiei?' he wondered.
'More than enough,' the demon remarked, irritated. 'That ridiculous human pride will get her killed one day, fox.'
Kurama didn't miss the irony of such a statement, though he found no amusement at the moment. There was something strange about the girl. She was certainly more at ease around them, which would have been a welcome change in any other circumstance; however, something was amiss.
Kurama lifted his hand, watching carefully as her eyes followed his every movement with precision and caution. No hazy veil, no blinking or difficulty focusing—hell, she didn't even crack a smile. Honestly, he supposed he should give her credit for her poker face, if nothing else. By all outward physical appearances, she was perfectly sober, and while Kurama didn't have a great deal of experience with humans and their behavior under the influence of demon alcohol, he knew there was a certain amount of poor coordination and outright clumsiness involved, the absence of which he found somewhat…worrisome.
"We should all retire, Sango," he tried patiently. "We have a legitimate lead, and if it should pan out, we will certainly need our strength. Not to mention the fact that you've been wounded."
The demon exterminator's gaze grew calculating, and her tone was sharp as she slapped her cards face down on the table. "I'm not a porcelain doll, Kurama," she intoned.
"No, but you are human."
The tension in the room was palpable as she exhaled sharply, pride quickly turning to ugly aggression. "It's not a disease to be human," she remarked, standing swiftly upright. "I—"
The demon slayer's eyes rolled back in her head, and she came crashing down just as quickly as she'd come up. Kurama, perhaps the only one in the room that hadn't been drinking at least somewhat, lunged, though he knew he wasn't close enough to spare her a painful collision with the ground.
It never came. The fire apparition gave an irritated snort as the girl dangled like a marionette with its strings suddenly cut, slumped forward with his arm curled around her tiny waist from behind. "Humans," he sneered, exasperated.
Kurama let loose the breath he'd held, though his tension and anger were hardly spent. The verdant glow of his eyes became a malicious gleam, unnatural and otherworldly set in his human guise, and Touya cleared his throat and excused himself from the room when the kitsune leveled his companions with the focus of his fierce, stone-faced scrutiny.
"Take her to the balcony; get her some fresh air," he told Hiei, never so much as glancing in the fire apparition's general direction. "I'll be with you in a moment."
Hiei had known Kurama long enough to know when he should not argue. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times. He lifted the girl into his arms with a snort of general annoyance and slipped from the room.
Chu shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Sango lay against his chest like a rag doll, murmuring unintelligibly as he slipped through the doorway and into the cool evening breeze. Hiei allowed himself a moment of ease and minute contentment at the silken fingers of soft wind brushing gently across his skin, and he inhaled deeply. He'd been gone so long, he had nearly forgotten the smell of home, the taste of freedom.
His muscles unwound ever so slightly, and he suddenly found it easier to resist the temptation to drop the exterminator on her ass right where he stood. Had Kurama been in something of a better mood, he might have considered it anyway. Honestly, stupid girl. As if she wasn't enough trouble when she was sober.
He grumbled to himself and dropped to one knee, shifting her weight to settle between his legs as he lowered her to the ground and propped her body against the side of the building. He paused as he laid her head back and a river of black silk slipped through the tips of his calloused fingers. Funny, he hadn't noticed her hair was down before.
Not that it made any difference, of course, because it didn't. It was just…there was something so unusual about seeing her this way. Sango made it something of a personal mission to be nearly as untouchable as he was. He understood, actually. It was one of the very few things Hiei felt they could agree upon.
Each betrayal, after all, begins with trust.
He might have gained a deeper appreciation for keeping allies in his time with the detective, but that didn't mean he was foolish enough to bring them within arm's length. It was a common thread between them, he decided. Even among her feudal comrades, the fire apparition detected an air of detachment.
To know that someone typically so cautious would allow herself vulnerability in front of those she hardly knew puzzled him. Hn. The fool. The demon slayer had let her pride blind her to the potential dangers of her situation. Hiei glanced down upon her face in the moonlight. Honestly, he could have done whatever he'd wanted to her just then…
Consumed by an uncommon curiosity, he reached out before he could think better of it and ran his fingers through the ends of her hair, studying the subtle highlights of cinnamon muted in twilight. And he couldn't help but wonder as he crouched before her, worrying the feather light wisps of dark between his thumb and forefinger, if all human girls were this soft.
Hiei went still as the dead when the fingertips closed around his wrist, and the girl hiccupped and giggled. He snapped his gaze to meet hers, unfocused and hazy though it was.
"I knew you weren't so tough," she slurred, struggling to keep both of him in her line of sight.
He straightened, though the demon remained where he was as she rolled her head back against the wall, looking down at him through the curtain of her thick, sooty lashes. "Fool," he grouched, shrugging off the heated flush that settled in his cheeks at having been caught so unaware. "You're drunk."
Sango laughed out loud. "Shhhhh," she said between breaths of laughter, gesticulating with her index finger pressed to her lips. "Don't tell Kurama."
Hiei rolled his eyes in his standard gesture of annoyance. "Something tells me he already knows," he drolled.
"Oops!" she chirped, remorseless.
He sat back with an impatient sigh, ready to move far, far away; Sango, apparently, had other ideas.
"No, n-n-n-n-no, no, no," she whispered conspiratorially. "You can't go yet," she said, catching him completely off guard when she pulled him roughly; Hiei lurched forward, bracing himself against the wall, barely managing to avoid cracking his skull against hers, though she remained oblivious. "I wanna talk to you, buddy."
"I have no desire to talk, slayer," he snapped, distinctly uncomfortable with the situation. "Release me."
She giggled again, much to his chagrin and snaked her free hand into the collar of his tunic, fisting the material to draw him closer still. "You don't fool me," she said in a light, singsong lilt that told him she knew something he obviously didn't. At least she thought she did. Regardless, the demon's patience was quickly growing thin.
Not that she noticed. Sango tapped him lightly on the nose with the tip of her finger. "You, you, ummm…you," she began but stopped mid-thought, suddenly distracted. "Gods, you smell good," she said mostly to herself, tone that of total wonder as she buried her face in his neck and inhaled deeply.
Once again, Hiei froze in place, stone cold, eyes wide in an expression of blunt, open shock. He opened his mouth to speak, voice his disgust when her breath trilled across the exposed skin of his neck, bringing his nerves screaming to life. What the hell did she think she was doing? Worse, what was he doing?
The soft click of the door echoed in his ears, and Hiei jerked back as though he'd been scalded. He was halfway across the balcony before Kurama set foot onto the patio.
"Awwww," Sango groaned, disappointed. "But you were warm."
Kurama paused in his approach, eyeing them both growing suspicion. "Perhaps, I'm interrupting something," he remarked, tone void of inflection though Hiei had known he hadn't been exempt from the fox's anger when he'd sent them out here. The insinuation of something more…inappropriate, no matter how misguided, was like throwing gasoline onto an open flame. "Tell me, Hiei, did I come at a bad time?"
"Don't be absurd, fox," he hissed in response, deliberately slowing the beat of his heart with measured precision. It would not serve him well to dwell on the matter, especially not at the moment.
The heat of the kit's stare intensified, and had he been anyone else, Hiei might have withered beneath it. "I thought you were going to watch them," Kurama said, kneeling before Sango with a cool rag in hand. She fussed, pushing his hands away awkwardly as he attempted to wipe her brow.
"I told you before we left I'd not serve as some glorified babysitter for a foolish human girl," he growled, just as irritated with the fox as he was himself, now. "She drank of her own accord, Kurama."
"And it could kill her," he snipped in return, fighting with Sango to hold her hands steady. "Shhh, shh, shh," Kurama soothed, bringing the cloth up to wipe her cheeks. "I need you to be still, Sango," he said calmly. "Will you do that for me, please?"
"Why?" the girl said in an exaggerated hush.
"You've ingested…" Whatever logical explanation he was certain to give fell short at the look in her eyes, seriousness in the deep, chocolate haze not present just moments before.
"You want me to trust you," she breathed, "but it is you that does not trust me."
The fox swallowed hard, and Hiei could feel the tension mount as he studied her in growing silence. He sighed heavily after a moment, looking away. "A valid point, Sango," he spoke softly. "My apologies."
Sango had not let the matter of their escape from the bar drop as cleanly as either of them had assumed, it appeared. Hiei resisted the urge to snort disdainfully. He knew she'd been pissed off, but now he realized, much to his utter annoyance, that it was more than that.
She was hurt. That they had not told her of their intention to remove her from the situation had it become what they deemed as necessary had been not only a staggering insult but a question of her capability and reason. Her pride as a warrior had taken a serious beating.
The sudden inclination to drink at Chu's inadvertent prodding was beginning to make much more sense.
Not that it was any less irritating. For what must have been the thousandth time, Hiei couldn't help but think she was entirely more trouble than she would ever be worth.
"Forgive me," the kitsune said politely, sincerely. "It was not my intention."
The line of tension snapped between them, and Sango sagged, appearing rather tired and small just then, but more at ease, nonetheless. She brought her hands up to touch his face, expression scrunching up in question. "Kurama," she said weakly, pushing the curtain of beautiful red hair back from his forehead gently. "Why are you so fuzzy?"
Hiei could see the corners of his mouth relax subtly and thought he might have actually smiled then had he not been so angry with the rest of them. "We're going to fix that," he said softly, pulling some sort of clove from the pouch at his side. "Here," he said, holding it up to her lips patiently. "Eat this."
Sango did as the fox requested, and Hiei watched with growing irritation as Kurama fawned. "She's not a child," Hiei groused, inexplicably perturbed at the repartee between his teammate and the slayer. "You do the girl no service by coddling her, Kurama."
"And you do none in your indifference," Kurama growled, whipping around to face the apparition head on, brilliant green eyes alight with incandescent rage. It was the first time Hiei had seen the fox come anywhere close to losing control of his legendary composure, and he knew, then, there was something more brewing beneath the surface than human girls and demon alcohol.
Kurama sighed heavily, turning his back to the fire apparition dismissively. "She'll be very ill, soon. We will need to watch her closely tonight."
His participation, Hiei noticed, was not up for debate.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?!" Inuyasha cried. "You're the one who didn't want to go, Kagome! What if Naraku finds them?"
It was getting to be a tired argument between them at this point, Genkai noticed. Kagome had returned from the market with Yusuke two days prior, somewhat subdued. She was quiet—distracted, even. Genkai supposed she could understand. The dimwit had informed them of their surprise encounter with Yuka, and the psychic had no doubt that the girl's family weighed heavily on her mind.
She cast a sidelong glance toward her former student and couldn't help but wonder if it was somehow contagious. While she would normally welcome a quieter temperament where the young detective was concerned, Yusuke, like Kagome, had been preoccupied with something. Genkai got the distinct impression, however, it was not for the same reasons. The fact that he made it a point to avoid being alone with the priestess for more than a millisecond confirmed her uneasy suspicions.
It was a good thing Inuyasha was blind, Genkai thought, if only temporarily.
Things would only get complicated if matters of the heart were involved. She would have to make it a point to remind her young pupil of such when circumstances allowed. They had more pressing issues at the moment.
"They're looking for me, Inuyasha," she replied softly, brushing the thick silver muss of his hair from his sightless eyes. When he hadn't healed completely after the first day, the half-demon had finally consented to let Genkai take a crack at it, though it had done little good. Inuyasha had never once questioned the benefits of his heightened senses, and often cursed his monthly human vulnerability, wondering how anyone could stand to live with such a handicap day in and out. The drawbacks to such an advantage were decidedly more painful to bear, however.
His condition had only made him more irritable and difficult to tolerate, as well. He was recuperating, though the process was far slower than a typical surface wound would have been. Kagome had seemed to understand better than any of them, and the situation helped establish a tentative mend in the chasm that had formed between them in the wake of their argument, though it was a fragile one.
"I've thought about it, and I think if we're careful, it'll be okay," she implored. "I just need to let them know I'm okay."
"Why can't you just ring them on that phone thing?"
"They need to see me," she said as though it were obvious. "They need to know no one is playing with them and that I haven't been pressured into anything."
"Well, it's a stupid idea," he said, crossing his arms with a huff. "You're not going, and that's final."
Genkai knew what the problem was whether Kagome did or not. In the state he was in, Inuyasha wouldn't be able to defend her, or so he thought. It was flawed logic, of course; some of the strongest warriors she had ever known were blind. Still, so long as he couldn't see, Inuyasha wouldn't be leaving their room, she knew. No sense wasting energy pushing a rope.
That didn't seem to matter to Kagome, just then. Her gaze sharpened, sending the ocean of her eyes into turmoil, and her cheeks flushed in anger. "You," she said sharply, though her voice remained quiet, "don't get to tell me what I can and can't do anymore, Inuyasha. We're not in the Feudal era. This is my home, my city. And I will go anywhere I please in it."
It startled him, both her response and the quiet fury he felt there in her voice, Genkai could tell. Something more had shifted between them in the last few days than he had realized, and the psychic suddenly felt the need to diffuse the bomb set between them.
"Yusuke will accompany her," she piped up, drawing a startled look from both the detective and the priestess. 'Bingo,' she thought, congratulating herself for her perception. Now that she had identified the problem with a fair amount of certainty, she could deal with it accordingly. "She'll be safe with him."
"Wait just a damn minute," the hanyou began in simultaneous succession with Yusuke's, "Now, just hold on, Grandma!" response.
Genkai raised a questioning eyebrow, cutting any further remark Yusuke might have made off at the knees. "The Higurashi family draws far too much attention to themselves by actively searching for her," Genkai spoke as though it were the only logical conclusion to reach. "Your absence, Kagome," she gestured with a nod in her direction, "is as dangerous as your presence."
Inuyasha either agreed or he felt the intimidating stare leveled in his direction, for his loud use of expletives dropped to a minimum, and Genkai thought she might have heard his rough acquiescence of "fine" as he bitched under his breath.
"Good, now that that's settled," she concluded, smiling. "The two of you will set out in the morning; it's too late to try and take the long way, tonight, and you'll have to if you don't want to be seen.
"And as for you…" she directed her attention to Inuyasha and reached out to pull him up by the ear.
"Ow, ow, ow," he yelped. "What the fuck, lady?"
"You're coming with me, slacker," she informed him, dragging him toward the front door. "In all my life I've never seen a more sense-dumb demon."
"Hey!"
"Tell me I'm wrong, idiot," the old psychic chided. "You've got the nose and ears of a superior being, but you're hobbling around here like some kind of gimp because you can't see. Well, it's time to suck it up. You've got everything you need to see without your eyes, and you're going to learn to right now."
"Wait, where are you going?" Kagome called after her, poking her head out the door as she watched her drag Inuyasha down the landing.
"The roof," she answered. "We're going to see if dogs can fly."
Kagome's eyes widened considerably, and Yusuke rushed past her, laughing as he made to follow. He wasn't about to miss this.
Shippou tried ease the vice in his chest as he stepped to the water's edge, holding the tiny wooden vessel steady as Kuwabara stepped inside and turned to take the reaper's hand, gently guiding her to follow suit. It was quiet but for the steady hiss of rain as it fell from the clouds, bruised and swollen in the sky. Shippou supposed he should be thankful for the momentary peace but found it hollow and cold as the water that clung to his hair and slipped down the path of his spine, chilling him through as it seeped through his clothing.
He hated this place—hated the empty shadow eating away at them.
He glanced at Miroku surreptitiously, taking note of the sickly gray pallid settling into his skin, the inky void growing in eyes too bright from exhaustion. He'd been changing these last days in more than just appearance. Shippou had known something was wrong for days before, had seen the monk a million miles on the horizon, a restless discontent seeping in on him. After their talk on the mountain, when Miroku had told him the wind tunnel was sealing, it had become more pronounced.
The fox found himself strategizing more and more on his own, and it was he alone that brought them down the mountain to the next cycle of the river Styx. Miroku had been uncharacteristically detached. The monk rarely slept as of late, and he spoke even less. More than once Shippou had wondered if the wind tunnel had already taken him inside, leaving the golem in his stead.
And for what? Thus far they had nothing—nothing—save bloodshed and horror, and Shippou felt dark resentment for Reikai and its prince, bitter and shrill in the thick of his throat.
He shook his head in disgust, doing his best to rid the darkness in his mind as he shoved the boat forward into deeper waters, jumping in swiftly as it left the shore. Kuwabara eased the oar from Botan's unsteady grip and passed it to him in silence. Taking another from beneath the plank seats, the young detective's assistant slipped the flat beneath the surface of the water, and the kitsune matched him in fluid, even strokes.
Kuwabara had been the least affected, which was odd considering he'd had the most violent introduction into the spirit realm. Still, whatever had happened in that cave the week before had taken its toll. The young detective remained quiet and withdrawn, pouring the bulk of his time and energy into Botan's recovery, which was slow and virtually non-existent.
No amount of care was going to bring her back to herself. Botan was lost in her own mind, groping in the fog for something perpetually out of reach. He wished he could make Kuwabara understand, though he knew at least a part of him already did. Shippou was somewhat grateful for the part of him that did not. If nothing else, it gave the boy something to hold on to.
As hopeless as it seemed, however, once in a while, she would surprise him. The reaper managed to communicate with them in bits and pieces, brief smatterings that seldom made any sense; once, just moments after her emergence, really, she'd rattled off something about the Gods coming for them. The Kami were angry, she'd said, but it had only deteriorated from there.
It was frustrating, really. Fortunately, Kuwabara could get her to respond most of the time—kept her moving—and for that Shippou was thankful. He suspected the two had other ways of reading one another, as well, which was an encouraging thought. They had far too few of those.
"Faces…"
Shippou jolted from his thoughts and focused on Kuwabara, who had ceased rowing and was craning his neck over the rim of the boat, peering down into the water intently.
"What?" he asked, growing uneasy. He didn't like stopping out in the open like this.
"Faces," he murmured, gesturing down with his chin. "In the water. Look."
And indeed, there were. Twisting, writhing, screaming in silence beneath the rain-beaten surface of the river.
"Souls," Miroku offered quietly, gazing out into the hazy horizon. The monk shuddered inadvertently as the wind picked up, blowing in from a new angle and driving the rain straight into the neck of his robes. "The further we travel, the more we'll see."
Kuwabara turned to face him, fully. "No, it's not the same," he said, pointing at the dying glimmer of white lights in the sky some distance behind them, just barely visible through the fog. "They…they feel different."
Miroku turned his attention toward him, and Shippou noticed Kuwabara shift awkwardly in his seat, not entirely comfortable with the way his eyes stretched through him somehow. "Not all souls are good, Kuwabara."
The young detective blanched and looked down once more, completely unsettled.
"Let's go," Shippou prodded, tension curling in his belly. "We shouldn't linger out in the open like this."
He was right, as it turned out. Kuwabara's eyes widened in pure, unfettered terror a mere breath before the boat exploded from underneath them, lurching into the air from the force of a thunder so mighty it splintered into nothing. It had happened so quickly, no one made a sound.
Shippou felt his heart seize as they were hurled unceremoniously through the damp and heavy air, and his skin lit like hot coils when he met the surface of the water like concrete, full on. The stinging sick flooded in through his nose and burned in his throat as the river took him, down with the souls, down with the beasts of his own invention, down to the murky hell in the waters below.
Sango opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn't. The moment the light assailed her vision she felt every tiny ache, every sickening twist and pain her body had tucked away under the blanket of sleep, scream to life. She swallowed past the wasteland in her mouth, and her stomach rolled as she choked back the bile that had risen in her throat, face scrunched in disgust. Holy hell, she thought, snapping her eyes closed once more; what had happened last night?
She shifted slightly, realizing she was clothed, though she didn't quite recall having changed into anything after she had finished showering the night before. She pried one eyelid open to glance down at herself, neatly tucked away into someone else's bed—funny, she couldn't recall having done that, either. Come to think of it, Sango couldn't remember anything after she'd gotten out of the shower.
Disoriented, the demon slayer eased herself up onto her elbows…
…and promptly vomited. It was by an extreme measure of luck or strategy that the garbage can had been placed next to the bed as it was, or the demon slayer would have been cleaning Chu's floor, though she doubted it would have been the first time. Might have explained why the waste bin was positioned as it was, actually. But Sango didn't really care for the particulars as she lay draped over the edge of the bed, head pounding like her skull had split on her shoulders and face down in a tub of her own sick.
"You humans are very charming creatures, aren't you?"
Honestly, this day was just getting better and better. If she could have managed it, Sango would have crawled right under the bed and stayed there rather than face him; unfortunately, she could just muster the energy to lift her ashen face enough to see the fire apparition sitting comfortably in the windowsill above the rim of the trash can. Kirara was curled at his feet, tails swishing contentedly in her sleep.
Traitor.
"Oh don't worry," he mocked, "I'm sure Kurama will be in here to hold your hair back any moment."
Had she been able, a decent 'fuck you' would have been appropriate under the circumstances, but today she would just have to settle for a nasty look. She'd save the words for another time; Sango was certain he'd do something to deserve them again, anyway.
Hiei smirked triumphantly at her obvious discomfort and irritation. "Fool," he remarked, condescendingly, "I suppose you should remember this the next time you get the insipid notion to drown yourself in alcohol." He grinned maliciously. "I certainly will."
Of course there was no way he'd let her forget something like this, though at least she had an explanation for waking up as she did. However, the notion brought with it another alarming possibility, and Sango felt the urge to be sick once more when she sat up abruptly before she could think better of it.
The demon slayer clutched the bucket to her chest as she emptied her stomach again, heedless of her audience. She could care less at this point; chances were he'd seen more than his share of her less than stunning moments anyway. After all, there could be only one reason she did not remember dressing herself the night before. Sango flushed, resting her head against her forearm, wrapped around the top edge of the waste bin. She was fairly certain it had been Kurama to help her into her clothing, at least—not that that made her feel any better, really—but she would rather it have been him than anyone else.
Honestly. What the hell had she been thinking?
The bed shifted and Sango glanced up when she felt the brush of fingertips sweep the hair from her eyes. Her face burned as she found herself the focus of his glimmering emerald depths, a stark reminder not only of her immodesty but the fact that she'd, no doubt, made a total ass of herself.
Sango closed her gaze with a grimace, unable to look at him full on. She swallowed hard, wanting to make sure she got it right the first time.
"S…Sorry," she croaked.
He wouldn't tell her she shouldn't be, but Kurama had no intention of holding it against her. He couldn't help but feel he deserved at least part of the blame, anyway. The kitsune eased the bucket from her grip, setting it into the floor before retrieving the glass of ice water he brought in for her from the old, wooden wine cask Chu used as a makeshift nightstand.
"Here, drink this," he said quietly, placing it in her hand and physically wrapping her fingers around the base of the glass. "You're dehydrated. The more liquid we get into your system, the better you will feel."
She accepted gratefully and took a greedy pull from the glass, nearly choking on the icy flood that rushed her mouth and settled into her belly like liquid nitrogen. Ugh…
"Careful," Kurama admonished, making a grab for the glass before she could get a bigger drink. "You'll upset your stomach if you drink it too fast."
Duly noted.
Hiei gave a disgusted snort from his place at the window, and the fox cut him a sharp look of disapproval, though the fire apparition did little more than roll his eyes with an indifferent shrug. What the hell was he still doing here, anyway?
Whatever, Sango wasn't going to waste her energy fighting with him anymore; the little pain in the ass had goaded her for the last time. Though…she had to admit to being mildly curious. What was he doing here? She eyed him inconspicuously, taking in the rumpled clothing and shadow under his eyes. He almost looked tired, now that she thought about it. Had he been up there on that window all night?
Sango refused to consider the possibility, knowing if he had, he was most likely coerced. She returned her attention to Kurama instead, nodding politely as she took the drink once more and sipped slowly, relishing in the crisp, cool that cut through the desert in her throat. It helped considerably, she noticed. The exterminator still felt like death, but after a few minutes she felt somewhat more like the walking dead, at least.
Sango exhaled in preparation, passing her glass off to Kurama as she untangled herself from the sheets and set her bare feet softly on the floor. The bandage on her leg had been redressed, and she smiled softly at the fox. "Thanks."
He nodded wordlessly in acknowledgement, and Sango shifted, making certain to keep the overly large shirt—must have been Chu's—from creeping up any higher. She flushed, thanking Kami for the fact that she had at least put on her undergarments before slipping on the robe the night before.
The demon slayer cleared her throat, forcing the color down in her cheeks. "My clothes?" she husked, voice still a little strained.
"There is no need to hurry," he replied, ignoring the sharp grunt of annoyance from the other side of the room.
She shook her head quickly, clamping down on the grimace of pain that threatened her features at the movement. "We've a long day ahead," Sango croaked.
The fox quirked a brow, wondering. "I think, perhaps, it is unwise for you to accompany us this time, Sango."
She realized it wasn't a question of her abilities so much as a concern for her well-being. It was a nice sentiment of course, but that didn't mean she had any intention of listening to him. "You do realize I've fought in worse shape than this. Many times, actually," she said, incredulous.
He appeared reluctant, and she stood slowly, continuing. "This is my bed of nails," she ventured, not entirely familiar with the phrase, though she'd heard Kagome use it before and felt reasonably certain it applied. "Let me lie in it."
Kurama looked as though he might have protested, but the fire apparition beat him to it. "Don't expect us to pick up your slack, slayer," he informed her, sternly. "If you fall behind, we will leave you there."
"Whatever you feel like you have to do," she dismissed, interrupting the reproach on Kurama's tongue, and Hiei bristled, a little put out by the fact that she wouldn't take the bait. She always took the bait. "What, no witty comeback this time?" she asked dryly, looking him in the eye. She should have burst into ash at the pointed glare he gave her, but she waved him off with a tired sigh. "Don't worry," she said. "I won't trouble you with little details like my survival."
He would brood for the rest of the afternoon.
She felt the gentle sweep of his fingertips on her brow as he leaned forward and kissed her lightly, parting her chill lips so as to have one last sweet taste.
"I love you, Kagome."
She wanted to tell him she loved him, too. Wanted to make him understand just how much he meant to her right now, what it was he was really doing as he moved her to the edge of the old wooden well. 'Please,' she thought. 'Do this for me. For both of us.'
He shuddered, breathing against her skin as he snapped her neck and cradled her tiny, limp form to his chest. He threw back his head and howled in abject misery, screaming his loss to the skies as he uncurled his arms and let her tumble into the darkness.
He sank to his knees in the snow, no way of yet knowing what he set into motion. No way to comprehend when he would fling himself to the edge for one last bittersweet look what he would find.
Nothing. The well was empty.
"Kouga!" she cried, sitting up in a cold sweat, heart fluttering in her chest like a hummingbird's wings. Kagome scanned the darkness, eyes wild, and drew an unsteady breath; the image of her dream—her memory—etched a pain so keen, so deep into her heart that it burned. Her vision began to cloud and her throat tightened like a vice. Oh Kouga…
"Hey," the detective spoke in a hush, drawing up onto his elbows to peer at her through the shadows cast at night in their room. "You okay?"
She nodded, though even in the darkness, he wasn't convinced. "I'm fine," she breathed. "I just need to use the restroom. Go back to sleep, Yusuke."
He shrugged, settling back down onto his pillow, and Kagome sighed working her way out from under the twisted sheets quietly, hoping not to wake Genkai as she did. She was tired—rightfully so—and she didn't deserve to lose any sleep because of Kagome.
The priestess padded out of the room and through the door that led to the tiny balcony outside before her knees gave out from below and she collapsed, sobs of great despair wracking her frail body. It was too much. Gods, it was too much to bear, and Kagome hiccupped and struggled to breathe around the vice in her throat, wishing she had never been the keeper of a cursed gem, had never been through that damned well.
Had never broken that jewel…had never been the destroyer of lives and worlds…
In fact, Kagome wished she had never been at all.
She jumped to her feet when she felt the hand drop down upon her shoulder, and Kagome spun to meet the deep, chestnut gaze of the spirit detective. She hushed, choking back the painful desperation trying to claw up from within.
"Hey," he whispered, reaching out tentatively to touch her cheek, sweeping his thumb out to catch a stray tear as it traveled the soft planes of her face. "What's this?"
She could hold no more, and the priestess crumbled from the inside out, the grief and self-loathing exploding as she flung herself into his chest, wailing hysterically.
Yusuke was at a loss for what to do. He had never been good with crying girls, and the spirit detective had only come out to see what was going on when he heard the door shut. As a matter of fact, he'd done his best to stay away from Kagome in the last couple of days. He didn't particularly trust himself alone with her. Something about her...gah, he didn't know! Might never know, but Yusuke could feel it just the same.
And that was the problem here, wasn't it? The way he felt. When he'd seen her there, hunched over and bawling her eyes out, Yusuke hadn't thought twice about it. Hell, he hadn't thought at all. He went to her. Knowing that it had probably been a mistake to do so hadn't changed anything about it as far as he was concerned now. Either way, Yusuke found he was not sorry.
Slowly, he eased his arms around her, encircling her in what warmth he had to offer. "Shhh…" he soothed, rocking back and forth and rubbing her back in soft circles. "It's okay, it'll be okay."
"No," hiccup, "it," sniffle, "won't."
He sighed, letting the smell of her hair drift into his senses. "I promise, okay," he said in quiet reassurance. "I don't know how to lose. I'm too awesome for that."
Kagome couldn't stop the snort of amusement. Leave it to Yusuke and his ego. "So humble, too," she replied, voice muffled into his shirt.
He smiled, glad to have had the desired effect. "Hey, it is what it is," he said, and as she took a step back, the detective tipped her head up, allowing himself a better view of her face, wet and soft in the moonlight. With tenderness not many would have thought him capable of, Yusuke brushed the last of her tears away. "Please, don't cry," he whispered.
The night grew suddenly still, and Kagome swallowed hard, a storm raging in the ocean of her eyes as the spell wound its way around them, making her senses hazy. His eyelids grew heavy and fluttered closed as he leaned closer, breath feathering across her lips as he closed the distance between them.
"Yusuke," she whispered absently, and he stopped short, breath coming in shallow as his shoulders slumped and he dropped his forehead to touch hers lightly.
"I know," he breathed, eyes still closed tightly. "I know."
Whew. This was a particularly long one--about 7,000 words as is--and it would have been longer. I had about three more scenes in here, but for the purposes of reader sanity, I've determined to hold onto those until the next bit, which, should actually be out in the next couple of weeks. I've got most of it done, already. OH! Before I forget: the train of thought for the dream sequence involving Kagome and Kouga is not my original idea. This passage draws very heavily from Wheezambu's "His Woman" Kouga/Kagome one-shot. A wonderful piece of work, actually, and the fic that inspired the entire chain of events for Of Pride and Absolution. I sent her an email some years ago--whenever I first started writing on this--and asked her permission to allude to it or base another fic from it, and she gave me the thumbs up (I'm hoping she still remembers this if the question ever arises, considering the fact that it's been so long ago). So, if you're reading this little project of mine and enjoying it in the slightest, you've got Wheezambu to thank for it.
Also, I feel that now is probably the time to warn you, dear reader. If you're looking for warm and fuzzies where everyone ends up safe and happy and together and healthy and all that jazz, you're looking in the wrong place. There will be character death and plenty of it. And I don't discriminate. I'll off the major players just as quickly, if not quicker, than the minor ones or villains, so be prepared for that. Things are about to take on a very dark twist. Meaning not only will I likely kill your favorite character, I'm going to fuck with them too. Some of these characters in particular are headed for terrible and heartbreaking fates; they're going to do things and be things that, chances are, some of you won't like. BUT, it'll all be worthwhile in the end. Just thought now was the time to give you all a fair heads up.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I want to thank each and every one of you sticking with this story. I know it's slow going, but real life takes precedence, and let's face it--it's just for fun. Nonetheless, I'd love to know what you all think, so please feed the author. Peace, all.