Shadows by Lillian

Shadows

Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim and do forever disclaim any possibility of owning Rumiko Takahashi's Inuyasha.

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I.

The first time she noticed she was being followed was on her way home, when she left her favorite dessert shop--passing by a couple sharing a piece of pumpkin pie and teasing each other with the crumbs--with her piece of Death by Chocolate cake secure in a white, plastic bag proclaiming Thank You! in bright red letters.

Kagome was always a bit preoccupied with some thing or another, and this day was like any other. Buyo, her cat, was home alone for the day as usual, but Kagome was running late and worried that the affectionate creature would be starving while she was away.

However, as she made her way from the the busy streets of Tokyo to the less crowded streets near her apartment as day turned to dusk, a consistent flash of brown flickered in her periphery; occasionally she’d glance into a storefront window and see the reflection of a man in a suit and briefcase with a loose gait making his way, it seemed, home, but she knew better because every time she turned a corner, he did, and every time she crossed a crosswalk, he did, too, and every time she sped or slowed her pace, he adjusted accordingly.

Needless to say, it was worrisome.

She feigned a pleasant conversation with Miroku on the phone, when, in reality, she was alerting him. It was a system they’d put in place in case of an emergency, where they would use an agreed-upon safe word to alert the other that they were in trouble. Of course, the word was something that didn’t come up often, so they’d settled on flaminco.

“Hey, Miroku,” she said lightly, feeling her hands moisten with sweat.

“Kagome!” he greeted cheerfully. “Have you called to tell me you’ve changed your mind and agreed to bear my children?”

She smiled despite her situation. “I was calling to see what you wanted for dinner tonight.” He made a confused noise, but she kept talking, hoping he’d understand in a minute. “I’m almost home and thought we could have an early dinner together, that is, if you’re finished teaching your flaminco lessons?”

There was an almost perceptible change on the other line, then--“Where are you?”

“Oh, thanks,” she said. “It’s kind of you to set the table for me. Can you take the chicken out of the fridge so it can thaw a bit? I’m on Karasuma Street so I’ll be home in about ten minutes.

“I’m on my way,” he told her. “I’ll meet you outside. Should I have my gun out?” Miroku worked as a policeman doing detective work with Sango, his partner.

Kagome faked a laugh. “No, I don’t think so, Miroku. No more cookies for you! You had enough yesterday!”

“Hang on, Kagome. I’ll be there with Sango,” he promised, “and you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll see you in a few!” She hung up and continued walking, ‘accidentally’ dropping her bag so she could turn and see how close the man was to her.

Kagome muttered, “So clumsy,” loud enough for the mean to hear, and continued on her way.

Miroku was waiting there, casually leaning against bright brick wall, hands tucked in his pockets, tie loosened. He strode forwards at the sight of her in ground-eating strides, leaning forwards to buss a kiss on her cheek and take her bag. “Evening, sweetheart,” he greeted, murmuring under his breath, “Is that him behind you with brown hair and briefcase?”

“Hey, ‘Roku,” she returned, saying lowly, “Yeah. That’s him.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist in a casual, possessive action, which in reality served to let him steer her where he wanted her to go and push her a bit in front of him--just the slightest bit--giving her protection.

“He hasn’t done anything, though, just follow me,” he continued, pulling her towards the door of the apartment building, inconspicuously glancing over his shoulder to check out the guy.

“All the same. It seems as if he’s just....continuing on, however.”

Sure enough, the man cast a glance her way and kept moving, disappearing down the street.

II.

The second time--the next day--there were two of them: one in front, one in back. She didn’t know how the one in front knew where she was going, but he turned where she turned while on her way home from work.

Like the last time, they made no move to contact her and no move to assault her. Miroku had given her a can of mace and a small, retractable knife to keep with her at all times, and she was prepared to use it if needed.

They didn’t exactly look like the type to do something bad, however: one was a woman dressed in casual chic clothes with her hands stuffed in the pockets of dark-washed blue jeans simply strolling along; the other, a teen with long black hair casually thrown up in a ponytail. The woman had passed by her office building just as Kagome exited and kept going, with the boy trailing behind her, casually pushing his way down the street on a skateboard.

Kagome pulled the knife out of her purse and concealed the small rectangular handle in her hand, making sure not to trigger the blade from coming out, and kept making her way.

Everything was fine, she convinced herself. Just fine. No problems, nothing suspicious about them (ignoring the fact that they were following her), just a normal walk home (excepting the fact she was also carrying a knife in her hand). Kagome shouldered her bag and determinedly continued on her way.

III.

“Mmm Friday!” Kagome exulted, spreading her arms wide in the air and spinning around. “Maybe I’ll make cookies tonight. I wonder if Sango’s available. We could watch chick flicks!” Walking down the street, she pulled out her mobile and dialed up Sango.

“Sango!” she greeted cheerily. “How are you? Please tell me you aren’t on a case right now? I’m feeling so in the mood for chick flicks and want a popcorn buddy! I’ll make oden,” she wheedled.

A laugh came down the line. “Bribery!”

“So that’s a yes?” Kagome bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet.

“Actually, I can’t, Kags. Miroku and I are working a case down in Kanagawa Prefecture. We think the murder there was caused by some gang activity, but we need to go check some leads.” Sango replied regretfully. “Maybe later this weekend? Crime just never stops, you know.”

Resigning herself to a night alone, Kagome trudged her way up the stairs and into her apartment, slipping her flower-patterned key into the lock and opening the door. She dropped her purse by the door and made her way into the living room.

“Wait. Why are the lights out?” She paused, and, in that moment, a figure silhouetted by the light shining in from the window rushed her and hit her in the head.




IV.

“Sir, the package is in route,” the man reported.

“Good. Now we have what he holds most precious, and everything will be easier to achieve. That is, if he’s willing to bargain.”

-

“Shit! Whaddya mean she’s gone? There’s a reason we put you on her tail, and that reason was to prevent something like this!” Inuyasha, second-in-command of the Kanagawa Yakuza, snarled into the phone. “He’s going to hurt you in the least, and it’s your own damn fault!” He snapped the phone shut and threw the dagger he was playing with into the wall, getting no satisfaction out of the thunk.

“Dammit. Why do these things always happen to me? I’m the one that’s gotta tell the bastard.” He grit his teeth and got up from the chair he had been lounging in, opening a door and passing through it.

“Sesshomaru. She’s gone.”

The sound of breaking glasses reverberated through the night, followed shortly by the sound of four motorcycles revving down deserted streets.

V.

This was possibly the most terrified Kagome had ever been in her entire life. The hallmark trade of the Ryuu Yakuza gang was everywhere: the red motorcycles parked inside the warehouse, the hard, cruel faces of the men, the known (and wanted) second-in-command, Bankotsu.

Trussed up like a chicken, Kagome lay on the cold floor of the warehouse, tears slowly making their way down her face. The gag in her mouth chafed her lips and tongue, and the rope binding her limbs rubbed harder and harder against soft skin the more she struggled.

What did they want with her? She wasn’t involved in the Yakuza in any way. Was she simply meant to be another one of those meaningless deaths associated in Yakuza wars?

A thought crossed her mind. Sango and Miroku’d probably be called in to investigate her death. This time, she’d be the body found in Kanagawa, or wherever they chose to dump her. A low moan escaped her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

A distant roar aroused her attention a few minutes later, distracting her from the leer one of the Yakuza was giving her. It became progressively louder until four motorcycles flanked by two black cars arrived, entering the warehouse. Without any hesitation whatsoever, the riders lifted up large automatic weapons, which had been slung over their backs with a strap, almost like a carrier bag, and opened fire.

The sounds were deafening, reverberating throughout the empty warehouse and magnifying the noise. Ryuu members returned fire almost carelessly, not stopping if one of their members fell.

Kagome simply curled up as tight as she could, hoping she would survive the fight.

Another, smaller part, hoped she’d die then so she wouldn’t have to go through something horrendous. It’d be quicker, at least, to die this way.

A figure clothed in black made its way to her, a small persian crescent moon embossed on his helmet and leather jacket. He picked her up with little effort and shielded her with his body, not saying a word as he opened one of the car doors, depositing her, and slammed it shut. She saw him turn quickly as the man that had earlier leered at her approached him from behind, and her rescuer seemingly magically conjured a knife, slicing downward and stabbing the man in the chest.

That was the last thing she saw as the car that held her peeled out the warehouse, leaving her in the possession of yet another gang.

Kagome wondered what she’d done wrong in her previous life.

Ten minutes late the car rolled to a stop and the driver got out, opening her door. A cold feeling of dread settled in her stomach, but, to her surprise, the driver, a short, stout man, undid her ties.

She stared at him.

“What are you waiting for?” he demanded. “Get out. Go. Leave.”

She stared at him uncomprehendingly some more.

“You are free,” he enunciated. “The boss declared that you should be taken back home.” A rapturous expression crossed his face at the mention of ‘the boss’ and Kagome almost chuckled. There were idols in every world, she supposed.

“So you aren’t going to kill or rape or maim me?”

“No.” He bodily pulled her out of the car and pushed her towards the building in front of her. “Here’s your apartment. Go in and pretend nothing happened.”

He got back into the car and left, leaving Kagome wondering what the hell had just happened.

VI .

Four days later, it was like nothing had happened. She still had shadows, but today there seemed to be only one.

A man with godlike beauty, blessed with silver hair that flowed like a waterfall down to his hips and piercing amber eyes walked behind her, following her from work to a nearby Starbucks, where she bought a sweetened passion iced tea lemonade, and proceeded outside.

He was waiting right outside the door for her, and she stopped short.

“Well, this is new,” she commented. “Usually you guys simply stalk me to and from work everyday. Are you going to kidnap me and take me to the Ryuu Yakuza? No,” she contemplated, “You’re with the other Yakuza, the one with the blue crescents on their stuff. The Ryuu just grabbed me and took me; you all just creepily follow me everywhere and rescue me.”

“At my command.” His voice was a smooth baritone, and she closed her eyes briefly to savor the sound. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he continued, “I am here to apologize. The Ryuu are...opponents of the Blue Inu Yakuza, my Yakuza, and they needlessly involved you because they are honorless.”

Kagome began walking, and the man walked beside her, shortening his gait to match hers. “Before I ask you things, I want to make sure you aren’t here to shove me in an alleyway and do bad things to me. Can I trust you on your word that you will not?”

He arched an eyebrow at her, as if disbelieving that she questioned his word. “You may. I, Sesshomaru Taisho, leader of the Blue Inu Yakuza, swear no harm will befall you in my presence.”

“Why was I involved in this Yakuza War in the first place?” She dove right in, wasting no time.

Sesshomaru hesitated, but answered nonetheless. “Because of me.”

“You?” Kagome stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at him. “It’s your fault?”

He nodded. “It’s because I--”

“Hold this.” She shoved her drink in his hands, which he took and somehow managed to make it look manly, and began hitting him with her brown leather purse. “You little...I can’t believe it! Because of you? I don’t even know why it’s your fault, but you’re the boss! I’m so angry right now I--”

“Could hit a Yakuza boss with a purse?” he interrupted mildly, easily grabbing her purse mid-swing with his free hand.

“Yes!” Kagome stood there fuming, and snatched back her drink, taking a long sip.

“What if I told you that you were taken because I hold you precious in my heart?” he questioned, effectively turning her world upside down.

“Wait wait wait. I don’t even know you!”

He pulled his hair back. “Imagine it in brown, shorn to my head. Does the name Hojo sound familiar?”

She actually stumbled back a step. “Hojo? As in Akitoki Hojo from Tokyo U?” Kagome stared at him, contemplating. “You...have the same facial structure. And he was tall, too.”

“Kagome,” he asked, “How are you feeling? Better today? Do you need assistance in studying for the math test?”

He sounded just like Hojo, who had disappeared from her life despite being her best friend (and secret crush) in University, never answering her calls or messages.

“You...you jerk! I waited for you! I called you, messaged you, worried about you, and you never answered!”

“I’m sorry.” Sesshomaru honestly did seem remorseful, taking a strand of loose black hair and tucking it behind her ear just like he had countless times before. “I did not wish to involve you in Yakuza life, which became integral in my life when I stepped up to take over the Blue Inu after my father, the then-current leader, was killed.”

She stared at him. “Are you...honestly, the same Hojo? Were you pretending back then to be someone you were not?”
 
Bending down, he pressed his forehead against hers. “You are the only one I could truly be myself with, where I had no pressures or expectations put upon me. I was only myself when I was with you.”

Kagome’s lip trembled, and she rushed him, flinging her arms around him. “Hoj-Sesshomaru. Whatever your name is. Please. Don’t leave me again.” Her nose pressed into the V of his shirt, skimming smooth skin. “I lost you once.”

“Even though I’m Yakuza?” He rested his head on hers.

She answered, “I can work with that, as long as you don’t go indiscriminately killing people. I’d prefer if you didn’t kill anyone, but...”

Sesshomaru smiled into her hair. “We’re mostly a legitimate business. We keep all illegals contained within the gang, and only attack unless we’re provoked. I have too much on my plate running an national corporation to do anything else, anyways.”

“Good.” Taking his hand and relishing in the feel of long, strong fingers closing over hers, she moved towards home.

“So. About those motorcycles,” she began.

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you may not ride one.”

“But why?” she whined. “I’ve always wanted to! And you can take me!”

“Your wheedling will not convince me. I have had much stronger opponents.”

“None of them had the ability to with hold homemade cookies from you!”

“...hnn.”

“Yes!”

And so, they continued on their way, relishing the beginning of something new, yet the renewal of something old.