The Lies That Bind Us – Part Thirteen: The Resistance

Disclaimer: Me? I own zilch. ‘Cept the stuff in my room.

A/N: Rawr.

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Sango climbed out of the car first, looking - really looking - at the building in front of her. The last time she’d been here, she’d been too preoccupied with Kagome’s temporary insanity to notice much about the place to which she’d been taken. She stepped toward the building as Miroku’s car door swung open.

The large tinted windows provided no view inside; the only sign that the building was even being used was the sporadic flashing of the café’s lit-up name and the sign on the front door.

Sango stepped up to this sign, then turned to Miroku and remarked, "It’s closed."

"That much is obvious," Miroku answered calmly, smiling as if he knew something that she didn’t. In fact, he probably did. "Come on, this way." He motioned for Sango to follow him, and she did, without question. The amount of trust that she had for Miroku was almost alarming, but at the same time, refreshing.

Miroku led her along the side of the building, stopping once they reached a door marked ‘Employees Only Beyond This Point’. He turned to look at her, a serious expression on his face. "Sango, before we go in, there’s something that you need to know."

"Hey, I’m pretty tolerant," Sango replied easily. "As long as you’re not about to tell me that the place is full of convicted felons running from the l-" She paused at the look on Miroku’s face. "Oh."

"It’s not what you think, Sango. Every person in here has had his or her life altered by Naraku’s interference. Quite a few were framed to cover the mistakes that he made when he first began his work."

"Miroku, it’s not as if I couldn’t have guessed all of this, judging by what he’s done to you."

"Well, it’s just that you may recognize some of these people, and-"

"And you don’t want me to dash in, guns a’blazin’, and shoot a few of your friends?" Sango grinned. "Miroku, you know me better than that."

Miroku didn’t reply; by way of an answer, he knocked three times on the door in front of him. Absently, Sango noticed that there was no external doorknob. She occupied her mind by staring at Miroku’s back and trying her best not to reach for her gun as the door swung open, revealing a man who looked vaguely familiar.

Sango mentally shifted through dozens mental files, trying to place a name with the face until finally, she landed on the right one, appalled that she’d forgotten him in the first place.

Kouga.

One of the gang leaders involved in her parents’ murder, according to Naraku.

In the blink of an eye, her gun was out and pointed directly between his eyes.

Kouga merely raised an eyebrow at Miroku, utterly unconcerned. "Oi. Who’s the chick?"

"Her name is Sango," Miroku answered, just as nonchalantly. "She’s a rebel from Naraku’s side, and I think she’s on the verge of shooting you."

"Ah." Kouga looked down the barrel of Sango’s gun and into her face. "What did he tell you I’ve done?"

Sango’s mouth was dry as she answered, "That you killed my parents."

Kouga drew in a breath. "Ooh. Good one. I can assure you, I’ve never killed anyone. If you let me live until then, one day I’ll tell you the real story of what happened that day. Miroku here did tell you that Naraku’s a liar, right?"

Sango blinked, then glanced at Miroku, who nodded encouragingly. Rather reluctantly, she lowered the gun.

"Thanks for that," Kouga muttered, stretching. "And now, missy, I’m going to need that gun of yours. No one gets in while armed, you know."

With a glare at Miroku for not sharing that particular bit of information, Sango handed the gun over and glared at Kouga as he turned the weapon over in his hands, studying it appraisingly. "Never been fired. Nice size for a chick, too.... Somebody stiffed you on the bullets, though."

Sango tapped her foot impatiently, ready to get past the unofficial customs agent. "What are you talking about?"

Kouga said nothing for a while, then he aimed the gun directly at Miroku and pulled the trigger. Mouth wide, Miroku jerked back and fell, red spreading across the front of his shirt.

Sesshoumaru stepped up to the nondescript door of the condo, checking the address against the slip of paper in his hand. Once sure that he was where he was supposed to be, he knocked briskly.

There was silence for a few moments, then the door banged open and he found himself confronted by a small girl aiming a toy arrow at his chest with an equally fake bow. "What is your business here, foul demon?" the girl demanded.

Sesshoumaru regarded her for a moment. "Is your sister in?" he inquired at last. "I want to speak to her."

The little girl lowered the bow and put one hand on her hip. "Onee is out battling your kind, demon. If you want, I will be sure to tell her that you stopped by so that she can plan your dem-"

"Kaede?" A woman’s voice came from an adjoining room. "Who was that at the door?"

"No one!" Kaede chirped, turning around and putting her back to Sesshoumaru, deftly hiding her bow behind her.

Obviously, the speaker did not believe her, because seconds later a woman walked into the room, a laundry basket brimming with neatly folded clothing in her arms. "Kaede," she scolded. "How many times have I told you not to open the door for strangers?" As the girl pouted, the woman looked over at Sesshoumaru. "May I help you?"

"Yes," Sesshoumaru answered, dispensing the formalities. "I am here to speak with you about Naraku."

The woman’s eyes widened, then narrowed, and a look of dangerous distrust took over her face. "I am truly sorry, but I know no one of that name," she stated simply. She set the basket on an armchair and began to walk over to the door. "I wish you luck finding whoever it is that you are looking for, Mr....?"

"I know exactly who I am looking for," Sesshoumaru replied, ignoring the woman’s indirect request for his name. "Luckily enough, she is standing right in front of me. You cannot ignore my request, Kikyou."

Quick as a flash, Kikyou stepped up to the door and put herself between the man and Kaede, who looked slightly disturbed. "Who are you, and how do you know my name?"

Once again, he ignored her request. "Naraku is a dangerous man, as you well know. It is only now that I have begun to doubt his seemingly honorable intentions. You know more than I about the situation, so tell me all that you know."

Kikyou reached out and grabbed the doorframe, gripping it so hard that her knuckles turned white. "Get out," she spat. "I know no Naraku, I don’t know you, so please leave now."

"Have you become so selfish, Kikyou? There was a time when you would have done anything for justice. Do you know that, after your departure, Naraku hired another operative to pick up where you left off? She is called the Taijiya, but she is more naïve than you ever were. She may suspect that something is amiss about Naraku, but she lacks the ability to break free of his influence without getting those around her - maybe even herself - killed. She does not have the ability to escape as you did, Miko."

Kikyou froze at the sound of her old moniker. Memories rushed back, of her pursuing felons, of Naraku’s cynical praise. This man knew who she was, what she had been. "Kaede, go play," she said finally.

Kaede looked up at her sister, her brown eyes wide and unsure. "Onee...?"

"Go on." Kaede took off for her room with a furtive look over her shoulder at Sesshoumaru as she departed. Silence fell for a few moments before Kikyou motioned for Sesshoumaru to enter.

"So, where should I begin?" she asked, shutting the door.

Sango hadn’t even begun to panic when Miroku sat up, looked down at himself, and groaned. "Damn it, Kouga, I liked this shirt...."

"Eh?" Sango voiced intelligently.

Kouga returned to his close study of the gun. "Blood packs," he said. "Made of hard plastic, too flat and blunt to break skin, filled with a mixture that reddens when the bullet splits and exposes it to oxygen. Not harmful at all. They can bruise a bit, though, especially at close range."

Miroku touched the mess on his shirt, then glared up at Kouga, leaping to his feet. "You bruised me? My poor Adonis-like marble perfection..." Sango elbowed him sharply, hiding a smirk. Now that she was over the initial shock, the situation was actually quite funny.

Kouga lifted his button-down shirt, revealing a large holster that was capable of holding guns of all sizes. He tucked her gun into one, then pushed the door open wide behind him and nodded to Miroku and Sango.

"Anyway, you’re in. Miroku, keep your eye on her. She’s your responsibility for as long as she’s here."

"Yeah. Thanks." Miroku gave Sango a gentle push. "Let’s go. There are more people that you should meet, after all."

Sango moved forward, stepping over the threshold and contemplating the blood packs that her gun had been outfitted with. It was, without a doubt, the work of Shippou. He had mentioned something about a bullet that he’d come up with for her... Mentally thanking him, she moved into the entrance hall, Miroku just behind her.

Kagome burst into the office, skidding to a stop at Shippou’s desk and nearly falling flat on her face. Ignoring the whispers of her coworkers, she hissed, "Sango’s gone!"

"I know," the teenager replied.

"I went by her house and it was ransacked! Stuff was thrown everywhere-"

"I know."

"-and she was nowhere to be found! Plus, I tried to call her and she didn’t answer-"

"She couldn’t-"

"-So then I called the cops and they only just now let me go! They took my fingerprints and all that, the jerks! Like I’d ever hurt Sango-"

"Kagome."

"-or break into her house or-"

"Kagome."

"-anything like that! Shippou, we need to find her!"

"Kagome! Listen to me." Shippou waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention. When the young woman didn’t immediately restart her rant, he lifted up a small device that looked rather like a palm pilot.

"Ooh, does it have Pac-Man?"

Shippou sighed. "Focus, Kagome. It’s a tracking device. It’s meant to follow the chips planted in field agents’ phones. A while ago, Sango’s just winked out."

"So she is hurt?"

"Sango’s not a victim, whatever the evidence may be pointing at right now. The signal vanished right after she made a call to Naraku. My guess is that she smashed it herself."

Kagome tapped her fingers on the desk. "You think she’s run off?"

"Kagome, that’s exactly what I think. Her target was, judging by her reaction to his picture, absolutely gorgeous in her sights. Either Sango has defected, or she knows something that we don’t."

Neither said anything for a while, both mulling over this information. Finally, Kagome asked, "So what do we do now? Tell Naraku?"

Shippou winced. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, Kagome, but who do you trust more?"

"Sango, I guess," Kagome affirmed.

"Then we keep quiet. If Sango knows something about this case that’s made it impossible to complete, chances are that she’ll contact one of us. If not, we’ll have to take the side of our employer."

Kagome sighed. "So that’s all we can do for now? Wait?"

Shippou nodded. "We wait. And we trust Sango’s judgment."

The four scholarships that I was juggling are finally sent off, and I have more time for myself... and this fic, of course. Sorry for the wait on this one, but I blocked for a while, wrote this chapter, hated this chapter, was on the verge of deleting this chapter, sent this chapter off to be beta-ed, found out that the beta was grounded and - but you don't want to hear me rant, now do you? Until next time!