The Source of Solace

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, etc. Rumiko Takahashi has that singular privilege. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

THE SOURCE OF SOLACE

WARNING! Dark imagery and lime, adult situations and issues. Foul language omitted on ff dot net.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“This one…oh, and this one. Do you have it in a size smaller? Hmmm. That’s better.” Kagome pulled free something else that caught her eye, and turned toward the dressing rooms, where the distinctive, rustling movements behind the concealing curtains had stopped.

Putting her hands on her hips as the boutique’s helpful attendant carried her latest selections to the waiting rack that hung along side the fitting rooms, Kagome ordered, “Well? Come on out and let me see it.”

The curtain shivered, and Sango slid out shyly.

Kagome stared at her critically, frowning. “I don’t like it.”

Sango blinked.

“It’s the color. Doesn’t look right.” Kagome muttered to herself as she stalked toward the rack and started flicking through the hangers. The boutique was slightly old-fashioned, but then again, what did she expect on a backwater planet like Kyouko? Not that she didn’t LIKE Kyouko just the way it was, but it was hardly the epitome of technological civilization that Station Nine was. And, truth be told, she rather found the quaint notion that there was an attendant to point out particular articles and make suggestions charming. Kagome liked feeling the various fabrics, rather than trying to make selections from a vid-screen and wait for them to arrive by mechanized messenger…

Finding what she wanted, she pulled it off the hanger with a triumphant smile. “Here. This should be MUCH better.”

“It’s blue.” Sango said in confusion, looking down at the blue pantsuit she already wore.

“Yes, but this is ICE blue, silly, not BRIGHT blue.” Kagome explained, as if Sango should automatically tell the difference.

Sango’s brow furrowed.

Kagome let out a hefty sigh. “Just try it on.”

As Sango slipped back behind the curtain with the new ensemble, Kagome went back to rummaging through the other garments. Now that she had an idea of Sango’s size, she made quick choice of a few everyday items the girl didn’t really need to try on. The attendant, a retiring woman with grey streaks in her light brown hair, bowed when Kagome handed over her credit chit.

“I will take these to the counter, miss, and wrap them.” The attendant said softly. Kagome nodded distractedly, seeing Sango reemerge from the corner of her eye. She turned with a brilliant smile that had her brown eyes dancing.

“See?” She came to hug her friend, turning Sango to face the mirror.

Sango looked, but saw nothing different. The fabric skimmed over her thin frame, and felt softer to her skin, but clothing had never been more than a necessity. But whatever it was about her reflection in the mirror had Kagome’s brown eyes lit up with smug pride.

“Perfect. We’ll take THAT one, I think.” Kagome had already darted back to the rack to fish out another outfit, this one in a brilliant shade of eye-popping scarlet that made Sango’s mouth fall open in astonishment.

“Kagome-chan, you don’t have to…” She demurred, but Kagome wasn’t having any of it. Sango had protested before, but Kagome had just ruthlessly thrown aside any excuses the young woman could come up with, even adopting a piteous air of grief, demanding to know why Sango wouldn’t accept any gifts from her, as a true friend would. Wasn’t she good enough? Sango’s protests had crumbled as she rushed to reassure the sweet girl that she hadn’t known, dismayed that she had hurt her friend so deeply.

Kagome had barely been able to keep the triumph from her brown eyes as she had graciously forgiven Sango. Before the other girl knew where she was, Kagome had swept her up and into the fitting room, her arms piled high with various articles. Kagome was determined to outfit her friend with a whole new wardrobe, and had promised herself silently to have a bonfire and burn Sango’s ugly old coveralls in a farewell funeral pyre.

“I’m your boss.” Kagome thrust the red dress into Sango’s hands. “Now, do as I say, and get dressing.” She pushed Sango toward the curtained alcove.

Sango went, and Kagome sailed off to find some new clothes for herself. Inuyasha would have a fit over the money she was spending, but they could more than afford it, and Kagome thought she might find something…appropriate…to distract her growly hanyou with. Seeing something sheer and silky in the dark shade of emerald green he particularly liked on her, her smile grew almost feral.

~Perfect!~

If THAT didn’t do the trick, than nothing would…

She heard the curtains slide back, and turned again to view Sango’s figure. Kagome had been correct, that particular shade of scarlet WAS the same color as the tattooed line above Sango’s eyes, but Sango looked a bit overwhelmed at the color as she stared at herself in the mirror.

Kagome pursed her lips. “Maybe you should try on something a little less…loud.”

Sango surprised them both by giggling. Kagome went and hugged her, her eyes dancing. She couldn’t speak the happy feeling that warmed up in her, seeing how Sango was starting to bloom under her careful guidance.

“Now,” she gave the girl a final squeeze, “time to start REALLY shopping.”

Sango blinked.

*~*~*~*~*

Hojo was again sitting in the open, at a small eatery and café---this one with the tantalizing brews of various, imported coffees to recommend it---when he spied the two girls he remembered seeing on station Yoro, which orbited above the planet Kyouko like a fourth, metallic moon. Caught by surprise, he barely managed to rise out of his seat before the two, laden with various packages and parcels, disappeared into an impressively sleek and modern hover-car. The quietly expensive vehicle rose and gracefully moved on down the rutted street before it disappeared around a corner, the milling crowds who had shifted aside now moving back to swallow up the space it had occupied.

That particular type of vehicle wasn’t much seen in Agariba, which had sprouted up almost overnight around the only planet-side landing facility that allowed both ningen and youkai unrestricted access to Kyouko’s surface. Much of Agariba still remained a polyglot of pre-fab plaz-crete and hastily erected buildings. The most frequent mode of transportation, besides using one’s own two feet, were the ancient hulks of rentable ground-cars, which demanded too many credits for their relative worth.

The fact that the black-haired women had been picked up by such a vehicle meant that they were important enough to warrant use of that vehicle. And if he had read the identification numbers on the back of the sleek craft correctly, they were or knew VERY important people. And Hojo was still quite interested in getting to know one of them in particular. He remembered how the quiet girl Sango with the cinnamon-brown eyes had not even spoken to him. He wondered idly what her voice might be like…

He was not without connections of his own. He had arbitrarily dismissed the invitation to the large reception being held tonight, but he might reconsider his decision. It was a rather important affair, and he thought perhaps that the two young women might be in attendance. He had been assured that anyone and everyone who held interest in Yoro and Kyouko had been invited. He might have the chance to finally meet the young onna, and to reiterate his initial interest.

Having made a decision, and knowing he had quite a few things now to do, Hojo abruptly stood and left the café, his untouched drink still steaming gently behind him.

*~*~*~*~*

Kagome settled into the cushioned comfort of an overstuffed chair with a groan as she kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes. “I’m exhausted!” She pronounced, staring around her at the variety of piled purchases with smug satisfaction.

“I’m sorry, Kagome. I didn’t mean to---“ Sango began, feeling guilty, but Kagome quickly cut her off with an admonishing wag of her finger in the other girl’s direction.

“Enough of that nonsense, Sango! It’s not your fault, I’m not tired, I was just exaggerating and I want you to quit being so damn apologetic. That’s going to be my next project, you know. Now that I have the OUTSIDE made over, it’s time to focus on the INSIDE.”

Kagome looked downright determined, as if she could single-handedly make Sango over anew. Sango’s mouth quirked with humor. She wasn’t so sure she wanted that particular experience, but she had been right. Kagome certainly made life INTERESTING.

“Kagome!”

Both girls jumped as the hanyou’s volume bounced around the comfortable sitting room and back into the hall. Rolling her eyes at her mate’s callous behavior, Kagome called back, “In here!”

A silver head and two white ears peeked around the archway, quickly followed by an amber smirk and belligerent stance. Inuyasha’s gaze took in the virtual mountain of abandoned packages, and a wry twist contorted his firm mouth. “Been busy, haven’t you?”

Kagome tried to affect an air of casual dismissal. “Just a bit.”

She wasn’t fooling any of them.

Inuyasha chose to be gracious, and ignore the piled mountain to flop down on the chair across from his wife with a hefty sigh. “Well, it’s a good thing you went and bought out half of Agariba. It means you’ll have something decent to wear tonight at Kouga’s reception.”

“What?” Kagome bolted upright with shock.

“You heard me, wench.” Inuyasha said with a toothy yawn, stretching his arms over his head. His back popped, and his ears twitched as he looked smug at having discomfited his wife.

Sango, who had leaned against a small table behind Kagome’s chair as Inuyasha entered the room, looked from one to the other in confusion. What had Inuyasha said that had Kagome so worked up?

“But, Inuyasha! I didn’t buy anything NICE.” Kagome protested. “I wasn’t expecting that we’d be going anywhere fancy.”

“Then wear something you already have.” The hanyou’s reply was caustic. “Kami knows you own enough clothing.”

“But not anything NICE…” Kagome paused, looking thoughtful as she considered her extensive wardrobe, much of which she had brought along on this little excursion to the port-city of Agariba. Buying new clothes was one of her few weaknesses, and having left quite a sizeable quantity back on Thetis due to the strict baggage restrictions onboard the Eminence (or any space-faring vessel, for that matter, where space was at a premium) had been one of her few true regrets over leaving her homeworld. Still, she might have brought a few things with her that just might work…

Inuyasha snorted, seeing that gleam deep in his wife’s mild brown eyes. Knowing that Kagome would take care of it, he bounced to his feet. “Dinner’s at nine, the reception’s going to be fashionably late. Whatever. I have a shit load of crap to do before then, so I’ll meet you in the foyer downstairs at eight-thirty. ’Kay?”

He bent over his wife and snagged a kiss, though she waved at him with a distracted air. Rolling his eyes, he stalked from the room, leaving Sango to stir uneasily. She didn’t want Kagome to feel embarrassed by the fact that the order disguised as an invitation didn’t include her. It looked as if Kagome had more than enough on her mind, and Sango wasn’t averse to making herself scarce.

“Kagome-chan, I can have dinner in my room. You have a lot to do, and I would only be in the way…” Sango began inching toward the archway that opened the little sitting area to their impressive suite of rooms.

“Huh?” Kagome blinked, and then her brown eyes focused. “What are you talking about?”

Sango inched closer to the door, and Kagome was out of her seat in a flash. “Where do you think you’re going? You don’t think I’m going to this stupid thing ALONE, do you? Why, I won’t know anyone there!”

“Inuyasha…” Sango offered lamely, but Kagome rolled her eyes. Both mates seemed quite experienced with that particular trick, and Sango wondered distractedly who had picked it up from whom.

“Look, if I have to get rigged out and fancified for this reception thing, than so will you.” Kagome let out a long-suffering sigh, though her eyes gleamed with excitement. She didn’t seem as put-out by Inuyasha’s abrupt announcement as she wanted Sango to believe. “Besides, m’dear, I have the PERFECT dress for you…”

Sango winced. She had already been roped into more clothing than she had ever considered possible, but that determined look was back in Kagome’s eye, and she knew from past experience how little her protest would do against the rock of Kagome’s determination.

She was in for it.

*~*~*~*~*

“There.” Kagome stepped back to examine her handiwork, and she grinned with keen satisfaction. “THAT did it, Sango-chan.”

Laying the curler down on the counter, Kagome grabbed the girl’s white hand in hers and tugged her around to face the mirror, an echo of countless times from earlier that morning. But Sango’s eyes widened, and even she had to catch her breath in surprised amazement.

She didn’t recognize the woman who stared back at her. Through the artful use of some discreet cosmetics, Kagome had managed to hide the thinness of her features and emphasize the creamy pallor of her skin. Her thick lashes were inky circles around her eyes, making the scarlet line of her tattooed lids more of a casual choice than an odd discrepancy.

Kagome had pulled her hair back in a loose, high ponytail, but had painstakingly curled each strand so that it hung thick and wavy down her back---which had more of a purpose than just an easy way to look elegantly disarrayed. The ‘dress’ Kagome had had in mind was cut quite low, in both front and back, held to the shoulders by the thinnest suggestion of a strap, and when Sango had demurred with acute embarrassment, Kagome had first thought that it was simple modesty.

But when Sango had reluctantly tried on the gown, and Kagome had seen the cause of Sango’s anxiety, she had felt awful for being so insistent. But nothing else would fit Sango’s thinner frame without looking like a baggy afterthought, and Kagome had been inspired. With a loose, black wrap Kagome had just purchased for herself (adoring the little jet beads that had been hand-embroidered along the edge), and the girl’s ebony hair hanging thick and wild down her back, it hid any evidence of a scar on the milky skin along the arch of her spine.

“You know, a necklace would be perfect for the V-neck line of that dress.” Kagome said wistfully as she rummaged around in her rather empty jewelry box.

Kagome was not one for flashy jewels, but she wished she had something better to offer Sango than a pair of simple black beaded earrings. But Sango said softly, her voice thick with emotion, “Kagome-chan, you have already done too much, and we both know it.”

Kagome just hmphed under her breath, but she spontaneously hugged the other girl. Turning so that they both faced the mirror, Kagome allowed herself a smug smile of conceit. “I think we are both looking quite exceptional tonight, Sango-chan. We’ll be turning heads.”

The reflection in the glassy surface did not deny the truth. Attired in a deceptively simple turquoise-blue gown that belted one shoulder and ignored the other to fall in soft, silky folds to her knees, Kagome felt her breath catch, remembering the last time she had worn this particular gown. It had been on her rather hurried wedding day, and she had found and bought the article with precisely that fact in mind, though it was hardly a TRADITIONAL wedding robe. But it had been perfect, and a perfect match for the simple, expensively rare carved-turquoise bracelets Inuyasha had given her on their first dinner-date, when she had worn the gown Sango now wore, to meet her mate’s austerely elegant brother, Sesshoumaru.

Kagome touched fingers to her hair, which hung straight and silky down her shoulders and back, the front pulled up and away from her brow with a simple turquoise clasp that Inuyasha had given her a few weeks later. That was when he had first told her he loved her, and she was almost dreamy with memories of those earlier days.

“Kagome?” Sango broke into her reverie, and Kagome nearly blushed. But practicality overcame reminiscence, and Kagome broke away to pounce on a particular package that she was now happy she had had the foresight to buy. Sango stared at her in confusion as Kagome tore away the careful paper wrapping to pull out a pair of black sandals, strappy and heeled and perfect for this evening.

Kagome had a mountain of shoes, but none of them would have fit Sango’s surprisingly tiny feet. Kagome already had a pair of smart heels to wear with her turquoise ensemble, but Sango had nothing but a pair of worn, rubber-soled deck shoes and some rather sturdy boots Kagome had bought for her with the thought of just how fond Sango was for tromping around the woods surrounding their cabin---which she missed even now with a pang at the thought of her cozy new home.

“I hope Inuyasha’s business is done soon.” Kagome said wistfully as she placed the sandals in Sango’s hands.

“Kagome, you shouldn’t have---“ Sango began, flushing with guilty gratitude.

Kagome snapped out of her idle thoughts. With a fierce frown, she admonished, “I’ve already told you, Sango-chan, you can’t stop me, and if you keep protesting, I will go and---“

The threat was cut off by a discreet tap at her door---one of the hotel staff (probably sent by an annoyed Inuyasha) reminding her that time was a’wasting. With her typically mercurial changes of mood and focus, Kagome let out an “eek!” of surprise.

“Hurry up, Sango, and put these on. I hadn’t realized just how late it was. Inuyasha’s going to kill me…” Kagome’s voice grew muffled as she dove for her suitcase, pulling out her shoes and shoving them on her feet. Sweeping up a pale blue scarf to use as a wrap, she barely gave Sango any time to adjust her own beaded wrap before she wrenched open the door, this one the strangest yet to her experience, having to open sideways and swinging back on one pivotal access. It would be dangerous for the unwary…

The servant, clad in the same discreet dark-grey uniform as all the rest of the opulent hotel’s staff, bowed and motioned for the two women to precede him. The thick carpeting that covered the halls silenced their footfalls, which tapped loudly as they were directed toward the huge marble staircase that dominated the hotel’s foyer. Inuyasha stood waiting at the bottom, impatience oozing out of every strong line of him. Sensing her presence in that knacky way he had, her hanyou mate abruptly turned.

And frankly stared.

The look in his golden-amber eyes was enough to make Kagome’s blood sing, and her cheeks flushed prettily as she daintily curtsied to her speechless mate.

Inuyasha, clad in the violently red haori and hakama that was his sneer at a traditional noble’s attire, bound up the marble steps with youkai-speed, sweeping Kagome up in his arms to give her such a hungry kiss that it had the hotel staff grinning. He finally let her go, though he kept one arm possessively curled around her thin waist as she tried to recover both breath and composure---though the heated blush that now stained her cheeks made THAT a lost cause.

Sango smiled softly, and Inuyasha’s eyes glinted as he gave the other girl the once-over. “Looking good.” He pronounced with a smirk.

It was Sango’s turn to blush, though she bowed her head in graceful acknowledgement of the hanyou’s sincerely simple compliment. With considerably more poise than Kagome could summon right now, she took the hanyou’s offered arm, her fingers curling lightly over the draping red silk of his sleeve.

Inuyasha nuzzled his lips against Kagome’s ear, lightly nipping her creamy throat. “You are beautiful, beloved.” He said, making her glow with love for him. Inuyasha might be a barbarous oaf, but he definitely knew how to make her irritation with him melt away.

But then he could also summon it right back.

“Damn, but you took forever…”

Kagome’s look was murderous as he hauled the two women behind him, swaggering with the admiring glances sent their way. Kagome had a sudden desire to clout him over his silver head, but he chuckled, telling her that he knew her thoughts. She snuggled closer to him with a giggle as he led them from the tiled foyer toward the back of the sprawling hotel, where the faint murmuring of many voices speaking quietly soon eclipsed even Inuyasha’s growl at her giggling dismissal.

A pair of unobtrusive servants stood guard over a pair of impressively carved doors, and with a bow, they swung them open to emit the threesome into a world of light and elegance that Kagome had rarely seen and never aspired to. The murmur of lowered conversation overwhelmed her at first, and from Sango’s wide eyes, she wasn’t the only one. Perfume, rising from both flowers and people, wafted over the room and the faint strains of soothing music was accompanied by the humming buzz of hundreds of people speaking all at once. It took Kagome a few minutes to gain her bearings, and by then they were already being accosted by the first in a long line of strange people and strange faces in a stunning variety of formal dress and aphoristic costume.

Inuyasha kept his replies short and terse to the eager, almost obsequious greetings. He steered them across the open area with surprising finesse, growling impatiently under his breath at the curious glances sent their way.

“Damn vultures.” He groused, adroitly avoiding yet another sycophant eager to make their acquaintance. He finally found what he wanted, a relatively quiet spot in the milling noise around them. Gallantly seating both women before taking the outside chair around the small table for himself, he turned it so that he could watch both the small alcove and their surroundings with a delightfully protective air.

Kagome finally found her bearings, and the overwhelming scene settled into almost a dancing like pattern as she watched the people around her weave in and out, bowing and scraping to those who seemed to be more powerful in some way. Even though it appeared as if everyone was huddled together in this giant room with it splendidly appointed accouterments, she was able to see that it was rare for the youkai and ningen in the room to mingle. They kept to their own sides, almost like antagonists, the youkai nobles sneering, their human counterparts wary and almost overly demonstrative, as if making up for their nervousness with a pompous show of noisy bravado.

While the men were arrayed in somber colors and discreetly tailored uniforms, the youkai lords seemed a riot of color and dazzling designs. Most youkai preferred the traditional dress of silk kimono and embroidered patterns, each significant in some way to the wearer. The women present wore a variety, from the modish to the outrageous, the worst being a rather fat woman in a scarlet kimono-like gown. Her round face was topped by an even rounder turban, whose center was engulfed by a giant ruby that sparkled vulgar ostentation. A wispy feather of impressive height and hideously violet hue crowned the turban, clashing with the red of her cheeks and the red of her robes.

“Loud, isn’t it?” She whispered to Sango, who started in surprise, and then smiled faintly as Kagome waved in the fat woman’s direction. The feather waved back, the turban bobbing as the woman nodded vigorously to the rather small, dapper man at her side.

Inuyasha overheard her whisper, and grinned. “That’s Madam Rosa, who owns some rather lucrative brothels in both Agariba and Yorokuzo Station.”

“What?” Kagome gasped, staring at the large woman with renewed fascination, horrified at the notion that such a creature could be in attendance at such a fancy party. She could tell that anyone who was anyone had been invited to this little get-together, and was shocked that the owner of a whorehouse would be part of what amounted to ‘polite’ society on Kyouko.

“Don’t underestimate her, Kagome. She’s not as silly as she looks. She’s made quite a neat little stash for herself on Yoro. She has a smart head for business, and I’ve been thinking of investing in some of her…uh…ventures.” Inuyasha replied with a thoughtful gleam in his amber eyes.

Kagome glared. “Don’t you dare! If you---“

But she stopped when she realized that he was laughing at her, his chuckle making her shake her head at him and smack his arm, which he skillfully dodged, having so much practice at it in the past. Sango smiled at them, easing back into her chair, as the atmosphere became a little more relaxed with the familiar by-play between them.

“Excuse me, am I intruding?”

All three stiffened, and Kagome’s eyes widened as she recognized the handsome young man they had met on Yoro. The dark blue eyes were approving as he looked at Sango, his manner earnest and endearingly sweet and charming.

Kagome stopped Inuyasha’s reactive growl with a light, warning hand on his arm. The hanyou shut up, but he sat back in his chair, his arms crossed and his manner anything BUT charming. Banned from protesting by his wife’s whim, he settled for glaring. The man appeared not to notice---though his tensed shoulders testified that he did. Kagome was impressed with how polite he was, and how his attention was completely directed on Sango, which thrilled and flattered Kagome no end.

Not that Sango seemed at all appreciative. In fact, she looked distinctly nervous, but Kagome put it down to the fact that Sango had probably had little exposure to a man’s simple admiration.

“Why, Mr. Gentry! I’m surprised to see you here! I thought you were on Yoro.” Kagome said brightly.

The handsome man, clad in a dark blue uniform of elegantly simple cut, bowed. “I appreciate the fact that you remember me, Kagome.”

“That’s Mrs. Takahashi.” Inuyasha bit out, much to Kagome’s chagrin. She discreetly jabbed an elbow into her unrepentant mate’s ribs, which he took with a grunt and ambered glare in her direction.

“You remember Sango, don’t you, Mr. Gentry?” Kagome leaned forward. Sango shot her a wary glance, but the man did not seem to notice.

“I do.” The man softly picked up one of Sango’s hands in his, and bowed again, his gaze fervent, his look appealingly endearing to Kagome’s mind. He placed a light kiss on the back of her hand, and Sango stirred uncomfortably. Not unaware of the girl’s embarrassment, Hojo let her fingers go to bow once more in mute contrition.

“I apologize, Miss Sango. I can only say that I have been desiring to see you again. We hardly had any time to talk the last time we met…” Hojo’s voice trailed off with a hopeful air.

Kagome was quick to take the hint. “Why don’t you join---“ She jumped as Inuyasha’s sharp elbow found her ribs. “Ow!”

Glaring at her mate, who gave her an innocently golden look in return, she determined to win the silent argument. Taking sudden inspiration from the faint strains of music she heard in the sudden lull of quiet conversation around them, Kagome sat forward and said brightly, “Why, I think they are starting a waltz. Perhaps Sango would like to dance, Mr. Gentry.”

The dark blue eyes lit up with approval for the idea. Extending his arm with a handsome smile, he made yet another graceful bow. “I’d be delighted. Would you, miss?”

Sango stirred, starting to demur, but Kagome ruthlessly overrode her friend’s reserve. “She would be happy to!”

Kagome added a helpful kick to Sango’s chair, and Sango reluctantly rose. The deep V of her gown did not hide the flutter of her quickening heartbeat, or the nervous rise of her breasts as her breath quickened. Hojo’s smile was encouragingly solicitous, though his eyes darkened with appreciation as he stared down at her. Clasping her small hand in his, he drew her into the parting crowds as the dance floor was cleared for those couples who wished to partake of the enchanting music.

“Wasn’t he just sweet?” Kagome sighed as the couple disappeared, her chin on her hands as she gazed dreamily after them.

Inuyasha scowled.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kagome turned on him with a scowl of her own. “What do you have against that guy?”

“Nothing I can put a claw on.” Inuyasha drained his glass, which he had pulled from a tray offered by one of the hotel’s efficient staff. “I just don’t like him.”

“You never like anyone.” Kagome said in exasperation. That was hardly an excuse for Inuyasha’s rude behavior.

“Whatever.” Inuyasha abruptly stood. “Come on, wench. You won’t let up until I distract you with something else. Let’s dance.”

Kagome wasn’t one to let such a rare opportunity pass her by. Getting quickly to her feet, she followed her mate’s good suggestion.

*~*~*~*~*

He held her rather a little too close for comfort, and Sango tried discreetly to put some distance between them. But the dance floor was crowded, and she blushed as she bumped into someone, murmuring an apology to the offended woman’s glare. Her dance partner took the opportunity of her embarrassed distraction to pull her even closer to him, the warm, dry hand on the lower of her back firm, anchoring her to his side.

Sango fought back a faint sense of feeling trapped, and tried to focus on what he was saying. With the low heels of her sandals, he was only a few inches taller than her, and she dropped her brown eyes from the dark blue of his. He was charming, and solicitous, but she still did not like the feel of his hands on her skin, even though she could not complain that he was treating her with anything other than courtesy, even if he was a tad too familiar.

“I’ve been wanting to speak with you, Miss Jennar.” He said earnestly, skillfully sweeping her around another couple. Sango was surprised that she knew the simple steps of the dance, though it felt more of an echo of something else she remembered rather than the prosaic footsteps of the waltz’s routine. Whatever else this man was, he had easy rhythm and an almost sinuous grace.

“I would like to think we have much in common, Sango. We are both here, lone humans in a youkai world.” His grip, if anything, became more possessive, and his blue eyes turned almost soulful. “I was enchanted the first time I laid eyes on you. You captured me with your beauty…”

Sango stirred uneasily with his words. ~Captured…~

Sensing her sudden tension, Hojo relaxed his hold, and Sango hastily took advantage of it, not caring if she again bumped into another couple. With an overwhelming desire to flee the avid young man’s presence, she tried to politely back away.

But Hojo kept her small hand in his, and he kept on holding it, though she tugged lightly. His dark blue eyes were confused and slightly hurt. “I apologize, Miss Jennar, if I have some how offended you. I wish only the chance to get to know you better. Please forgive my uncouth behavior. I can hardly believe how boorish I have been. I can only say that there is something that tells me that you and I are linked somehow, perhaps through destiny.”

He tried to draw her close once more, and Sango did not try to hide the fact that she now wanted nothing to do with him. Perhaps he was only exaggerating, but she didn’t like the intensity of his speech, or the nearly ardent gleam in his dark blue eyes. She didn’t trust it, and wrenching her fingers out of his, she abruptly turned to put as much distance between them as she could, blindly seeking escape from his disturbing presence.

But she was captured against a hard chest, strong hands curling over her upper arms in an eerily familiar grip. Looking up with a gasp of surprise, Sango breathed his name in a sigh of mingled worry and relief.

“Kouga.”

The clear blue eyes stared down into hers, and Sango flushed at the look in them as his gaze wandered down to the deep V of her revealing black gown, her heart speeding up and her breath coming short in quite a different way now.

“Excuse me, sir!” Hojo’s voice rose behind her shoulder and Kouga’s grip on her arms tightened once before immediately gentling at her nervous surprise.

A black brow rose, almost elegantly arched. Sango couldn’t turn away from staring up at him, though his attention was now for the handsome young man who protested the youkai lord’s arbitrary usurpation of her person.

“I demand that you let the onna go, and right this minute!” The command drew gasps around them, as people turned to stare and recognized just who Kouga was. Kouga seemed more amused than anything else as Hojo stirred behind her, possibly recognizing the ookami now, as there was a mumbled apology.

“Anything else?” Kouga’s voice was deep and biting. Sango shivered, suddenly glad that she had never been on the receiving end of the youkai’s anger.

Another mumble, and then Kouga’s attention was back, and Sango shivered, this time with the strange sensations that flooded through her body, leaving her knees strangely weak and her breath come faint even as her heart sped up and her skin tingled from the gentle but firm touch of his claws against her skin.

“Are you feeling all right?” Kouga asked, his voice now sharp with concern.

Sango made a slight movement, an almost-shrug of her shoulders. “I feel a little faint.” She whispered.

“Come. You need to sit down.” Abruptly turning, the ookami lord let her go, though he caught her elbow, where the beaded silk wrap curled around it, in the cup of one palm, and easily steered his way through the crowded floor, his forbidding gaze keeping the assiduous at bay as he pulled her along.

Feeling grateful, Sango meekly followed until she realized that Kouga had returned her to the small alcove Inuyasha had commandeered for their use. Like the hanyou, the ookami helped Sango to sit in the protected corner before assuming a naturally guarding position by taking the outer seat next to hers.

Kouga jerked his head, and an attendant was there immediately, offering his tray of refreshments. Commandeering glasses, the youkai set one in front of Sango. Surprised to find it was water and not wine, she sipped gratefully and thanked him softly.

“Who was that?” His icy blue eyes were penetrating.

“Just a man.” Sango replied, another shrug shivering the beaded wrap from her shoulders. It slipped down her back with a slither of silk, and she let the ends fall as she relaxed into her cushioned seat. “Kagome and I met him on Yoro, and he asked me to dance.”

Kouga pressed, though Sango really didn’t want to talk about Hojo. “You didn’t look like you wanted to dance.”

“No, I…” She stopped, looking down at her glass, which she turned slowly in her fingers, noting how the light danced in the cut crystal with distraction.

“Did he say something to make you…uncomfortable?” There was a growl low in the ookami’s deep voice, and Sango looked up to meet his blue eyes, which were faintly misted with crimson light.

“No…I just…don’t like him.” Sango replied, regretting her honesty and thinking she sounded uncommonly silly. But Kouga seemed satisfied with her answer, the crimson mist receding from his blue eyes, and he even smiled wryly as their friends returned, an insult ready on the hanyou’s smirk.

“Quite a show, wolf-boy. Got the whole room buzzing.” Straddling a chair, Inuyasha grinned, fangs flashing.

Sango flushed with embarrassment even as Kouga sat back and eyed the hanyou with an arched brow. “Should I care, mutt-face?”

Kagome patted Sango’s bare shoulder before primly taking her seat. “Inuyasha, you’re an idiot.”

Her mate turned his head, growling, but Kagome just smiled serenely, not caring to explain. Sango felt guilty, though Kagome had often called her mate far worse. She dropped her eyes, and played with her empty glass.

Kouga leaned across the table, blue eyes glinting, and said succinctly, “Inuyasha, you ARE an idiot.”

Inuyasha growled, and Kagome giggled. The air of tension melted away as the hanyou fired back a return volley at the ookami lord. With easy familiarity, the two fell to bickering, and if Sango still felt oddly shy, she was the only one.

*~*~*~*~*

Ayame had watched that charming little scene unfold almost right in front of her, and her lips thinned as she remembered how Kouga had grabbed at the ugly little onna and march-stepped her back across the room amid the avidly speculative looks of the other guests. Quite a few of them, who had spied her own bee-lined march across the room to intercept Kouga---before he had decided to go and play the idiot over a stupid ningen girl---had smirked in her direction, the smug superiority in their fake smiles making her want to claw something…anything…though that ugly little onna in the black dress would do for starters...

Making a none-too-gracious exit, the red-haired youkai melted back into the crowd of old greybeards who refused to have any part of the dancing going on in the center of the ballroom. They, instead, chose to look down their long ookami noses at the younger youkai who had taken their partners to dance among the ningen, uncaring of their place in the world, and that mixing with ningen scum was beneath their notice---or should have been.

Ayame ignored the ookami around her, for once not caring how admiring their glances were. She felt forgotten and ignored, and did not like the sour taste in the back of her mouth at the mockery of her blighted ambitions. Grabbing a delicate goblet from the nearest tray, she gulped down the mild wine and reached for another.

“Don’t act the fool.” Her grandfather’s voice cut in, sharp with reprimand.

Ayame sneered, her green eyes flashing crimson. The older ookami, proudly clad in house-colors of navy and gold, stared her down, and Ayame looked away, flushing.

“You look like a harlot.” The disgust in the youkai’s voice made the younger female stiffen, and her head came up with defiance. She knew how beautiful she was, and she knew how best to display her perfect body to the best advantage. The old bastard would have her wear the suffocating layers of a noble lady’s traditional kimono, and nothing else, the close-minded tyrant.

She deliberately drained her second glass, her green eyes sparkling with anger. The older ookami showed his distaste with a faint, wry twist of his puckered old mouth. “Go right ahead, girl, if you feel the need to make a spectacle of yourself.”

The accusation left unspoken was the fact that she had already more than made a spectacle of herself, and not only for chasing after Kouga around the crowded ballroom tonight, but for flamboyantly chasing after him for the past few months like a lowly bitch in heat. Her grandfather had told her rather contemptuously that Lord Kouga was not to be won in the bedroom, no matter how skilled the occupant. Ayame had doubled her resolve to become Kouga’s lady in troth, just to see that mangy old bastard’s shock when she looked down her long nose at HIM.

And everything was going according to Ayame’s careful plan. Kouga, though not as easily manipulated as she had expected, was HERS, and she had had a taste of how life would be once she wore his signet on her finger as his wife.

But since that disgusting half-demon cur and his ugly ningen mate had come to Yoro, Kouga had seemed to change almost overnight. Not content to hang around his own superior kind, he actually sought out the hanyou dog and his human bitch of a wife as if he LIKED their filthy, contaminating presence. And look how they had infected him! Kouga had dismissed her, Ayame, with no reason whatsoever, to take up with some ugly stick of a girl with sallow skin and mud-colored eyeballs.

It was utterly revolting! How dare an ookami lord of the old blood flout tradition to consort with such…such…FILTH.

Her grandfather was nattering on at her, but Ayame wasn’t paying attention. The old fool was always mumbling about something just to irritate her. Ayame’s green eyes narrowed as she spied the object of her wrath withdrawing from the small table where she sat with the ookami lord, his half-breed dog and the dog’s human bitch. The others hardly noticed, talking as they were to a small group of fawning ningen and youkai supplicants, which included that ridiculous fat woman in the ugly red dress. The large ruby pinned to her turban was an insult to ookami sensibilities. A mere ningen, especially such a disgusting figure as that, should never have owned such a beautiful gem. Ayame would have done its sparkling crimson facets far more justice.

Fingering the heavy blue sapphire that hung between her breasts, Ayame noted how the girl slipped out the open doors to the garden verandah beyond. Quite a few people were taking a stroll out in the gardens, enjoying the fresh air or using the hint of an excuse for some privacy out there among the beautifully manicured lawns.

Absently handing her empty glass to her scowling grandfather, Ayame sailed across the room, a renewed purpose in her dark green eyes.

*~*~*~*~*

Sango inhaled the unclouded air with a deep sigh. Although it was chilly out here, and she had forgotten her silk wrap as she slipped away from the table, she felt a little revived by the clean air that whispered across the cultivated gardens below. She had turned away from the inviting paths, which were lit in welcome for the guests who lingered there, idly chatting. Seeking solitude, she slipped along the edge of the wide terrace until she came to the far corner where the ornately carved stone railing curved back around to meet the far edge of the large, marble-pillared mansion. Kagome had giggled that the expansive hotel with its wide-swept wings and its manicured magnificence reminded her of some old trashy vid-drama of the South, whatever and wherever that was…

This far, the buzz of conversation and music was only a faint murmur. Louder were the sounds of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees and the bubbling splash of a fountain somewhere beneath her. Wide windows allowed a glow of light to spill across the wide porch, but here she felt safe in the shadows.

Having been overwhelmed by the presence of so many people, all whom had stared at her with rank curiosity in their avid eyes, Sango felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her spirit. Taking a second, deeper breath and closing her eyes, she allowed the murmuring silence to close in around her.

“Did you fuck him?”

Sango’s eyes flew open, and she whirled around to face the woman who snarled at her with unfeigned hostility etched in every ounce of her almost too-perfect beauty.

“Who are you?” Sango stepped back from the red flash in the female youkai’s eyes. She felt the hard edge of the stone balustrade bump her back, and she straightened, somehow remembering (without recalling the source) that the smell of her fear would only feed the youkai’s excited emotions.

“You’re an ugly, thin little thing. I don’t know what he sees in you. Perhaps you have some disgusting little ningen trick that makes him howl. Maybe he just likes to take trash to his bed once in awhile. The thought is almost novel. Not to worry, though---his interest can’t last.”

“I don’t know what---“

“Don’t you?” The green eyes narrowed over the sneer that marred the full, red lips. The youkai, clad in white, wore a series of filmy scarves that did little to hide her perfect skin or her perfect curves. Her clothing was as much of a statement as the house-colors her kimono-clad brethren wore. The fact that the female ookami could flaunt her perfect body in such a way meant that she knew how to use that body as a weapon in itself, and had the confidence not to care who knew it.

“You are a stupid little slut, aren’t you? Perhaps THAT is your appeal to him.” At Sango’s confusion, the ookami sneered. “Lord Kouga, you idiot. I saw how you threw yourself at him. Don’t think that you could ever be more than just a passing fancy for him. First of all, you’re only a ningen, and an ugly one at that. Secondly, you’re a---“

The youkai stopped, her nose twitching. Her green eyes blazed, and she spat in a final parting hiss before whirling away in a cloud of airy white, “He might fuck you, you little whore, but that’s all you’ll ever be to him. And when he’s done, I will be there to claim him once more as my mate. Remember that, you skinny little slut!”

Sango sank back against the stone behind her, shocked at the youkai’s words. So THAT was why everyone was staring at her with such speculation. They thought Kouga, Lord of his Clan, was…and she…and that they were…

~Little whore…~

The red-haired youkai’s spiteful voice was replaced by the taunting purr of another, and Sango turned around to clutch at the stone railing with a soft, gasping sob as the velvety voice poured in around her as black memories rose up to drown her in remembered pain and terror.

~MY little whore…~

No…

She felt claws on her bare shoulder, and Sango spun with a cry, seeking escape from the dark lord’s grasp. But the grip hardened, and she was shaken gently.

“Sango! It’s me, Kouga!” His voice was harsh, but it broke through her dark terror, and she fell against his chest, feeling her body shudder convulsively as the tears ran down her face. Strong arms wrapped around her and held her close, safe and protected as she had not been since she was a young child, and she heard his voice, gentle now, telling her to let it out. To let it all out.

She did not know how long they stood there, Kouga’s arms wrapped around her, his claws tenderly combing through the wavy length of her hair as she softly sobbed out her litany of pain against the warm blue silk of his kimono. It felt as if she had cried forever, and that her heart had been wrenched tight into her chest. But, somehow, with the release of her tears, she had somehow released the dagger-sharp pain from her dark memories, and she felt oddly empty as her sobs quieted and her tears slowly dried.

It felt wonderful, to feel the strong comfort of his arms around her, holding her, supporting her, asking nothing of her in return but to give up her pain to him. But it was not in her to depend on another when she should only depend on herself. And as she grew calm enough to again see clearly, the female youkai’s bitter words echoed in her mind, and she stiffened.

~I saw how you threw yourself at him…~

If she hadn’t before, she certainly was now! And Sango could not bear for Kouga to think that she…would ever think of her as…as Naraku had.

A whore.

She put distance between them, feeling shame for her momentary lapse, for the weakness of spirit he must despise in her. Youkai, especially ookami, were so strong…

Kouga let her go, but his blue eyes narrowed as she bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to do that to you. Please forgive me.”

*~*~*~*~*

His claws reached out and took a firm hold of her chin, which he pulled up so he could stare into her reddened eyes. She flinched from the icy blue intensity of his gaze, but his whisper was warmth itself as it roughened with strong, unnamable emotions. “There is nothing to forgive, Sango.”

“I…” She jerked her chin away, and turned her back to him. Kouga growled, but he did not think she would know what that meant to an ookami. Turning one’s back on a pack-brother was an insult, stabbing far deeper than he could believe. But Sango was only an onna, she could not understand.

He growled his irritation, and the girl shied away, though she tried to hide it with a mask of nonchalance that both knew was mere mockery. He didn’t understand her, and could feel the faint stirrings of instinctive anger mist his eyes in crimson. She would deny him, alpha of his pack, lord of his Clan…

He was youkai, not some pathetic excuse for a man. His ookami nature surged, and he reached out to grab her, to make her admit that she needed him, needed his strength and his comfort, his rule and his dominion…

His outstretched claws paused mere inches from her shoulder as he froze, seeing the stark evidence of what youkai dominance had brought her already. The chilling breeze had risen, and a gust of wind had set the long curling waves of her hair dancing. He could feel his own long tail tugging at the simple strap that bound it back, but his eyes were riveted to the ugly scar in the middle of her back.

The crimson in his gaze died, and the ice-blue color of his eyes glowed as he followed the almost star-shaped lines that detailed her dark struggle to him far more than even her tears had done. That wound would have killed many a lesser spirit than hers, and he felt a surge of emotion that had him reaching out now, with a gentle touch, to trace the evidence of her inner strength with a single claw, following the arch of her spine down and then back up to her left shoulder.

Sango had stiffened with a hissed cry as she felt his touch burning a line of remembrance across her white flesh, and she bowed her head in shame, fresh tears trickling down her cheeks. He could smell the salty tang on the air, and knew that she shivered with more than the chilling bite of the night air.

“Steel…” He murmured, his voice harsh and deep with pride for this simple girl who could overcome the dark torment of her past to seek a new life for herself and the privilege of knowing such strength, such spirit, and such innocence.

“Please…” She whispered, feeling anything but strong.

Both hands came to settle gently on her bared shoulders in silent homage. She shivered under his touch, and Kouga deliberately chose to misconstrue her trembling. “Are you cold?”

“A little.” She admitted reluctantly, and Kouga quickly slipped off his outer kimono so that he could envelop her in the silken folds, the soft fabric warmed by its contact with his skin. Sango clutched the draping material, drawing the edges closed over her chest, and finally turning back around to thank him, her brown eyes dark with wrung emotions.

Kouga could not help reaching out to wipe his thumb gently across the evidence of her tears. Stirred by deep emotions, and knowing how she felt ashamed for those same tears, he said softly, reverently, “You, little onna, are beauty and strength and spirit and steel to shame a mere youkai.”

Shock flickered in her cinnamoned eyes, and she shook her head in mute denial. “You’re wrong, Kouga.”

“Am I?” He smiled, his eyes intense. “You are strong, little Sango.”

“No.” She said, bowing her head and tightening the pale blue cloth around her hunched shoulders.

“You lie.” He said.

“You cannot understand…” She whispered to her feet.

“No, I cannot.” He admitted, placing his palms gently on her shoulders to shake her lightly. “But I know what strength lies within you, Sango.”

“Strength?” Her head came up, her eyes wide.

“Yes, strength.” His voice was firm.

“But I was too weak to stop him, too weak to---”

“That is but strength of arm, and any ookami can be felled by a larger foe. What I speak of is strength of spirit, and the strength you have to endure…”

And he could not help it, her eyes were so wide and such deep pools of dark allure, and his claws had already tightened on her shoulders, to make her understand just how truly strong she was. The emotions and admiration that churned inside of him sought outlet, and he drew her close, his head lowering to touch those soft lips he had wondered about often enough.

For a moment, she was caught by surprise, but he was not new to this game, and he used every skill and charm he had in his possession to take the fear from her, using the gentle caress of his mouth to tell her what his body already knew…that she was his, that this was what he had wanted and desired, how much he would worship her with body, mind and soul if she would just allow it…

She melted beneath the sensual onslaught, her body fitting to his like they had been made one. With a low growl of hunger, he deepened the kiss, losing himself as she tentatively returned his heated caresses with shy response. His claws swept over her shoulders so that he held her closer, one hand tangling in the long waves of her heavy tresses, the other making soothing circles down her lower back, until he gently pressed her against him, wanting to feel her warmth surround his need…

But she broke away, her fear rising as she felt the evidence of his hunger for her. With a small cry, she pushed away from him, and he let her go, though his first instinct was to grab her and make her submit, he would prove to her that her fear was unfounded, that there was more to love-making than her past experiences in terror and pain. But therein lay the cause of her fear, and he fought the ookami nature that rose in crimsoning response to her sudden withdrawal.

By the time he had contained his more primitive nature beneath his fierce will, Sango had already stepped back, her head shaking so that the feathering bangs along her cheek whorled with the movement. “This is not right, Kouga.”

“Sango…” Kouga took a step toward her, but stopped when she shrank back.

“It is not only that, my lord. We are too different.” She deliberately used the title of respect to call him to his senses, to delineate the differences between them of caste, of specie, of nature.

Like he could give a good gawd damn. He growled, meaning it.

Sango’s eyes were dark and unfathomable.

“You are youkai, and I…I am a taijiya.”

He froze at the word, though confusion washed her deep brown eyes with cinnamon, as if she was surprised by the word as well. But when she turned and fled, he did not follow.

Taijiya.