by Momiji Hime

"Momiji, I don't suppose I need to tell you how much better you're doing. I'm glad, but I have to admit, it's startling how suddenly you've recovered."

Finally out of bed, Momiji kneeled at the table while everyone else talked around her. She'd spent the morning in bed, being poked and prodded by Matsudaira, and now, dressed in a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, she was finally permitted to emerge from her bedroom for reasons other than utilizing the bath and attending to similar matters.

Koume spoke around a mouthful of steamed, fresh rice. "We still don't know where the hell that mitama came from, though." She looked across the table towards Matsudaira, who met her gaze before speaking again.

"All I can say right now is whoever- or whatever- was the previous owner, must be feeling better. It's not much in the way of an explanation, but it's all I have to go on right now."

"No matter who or what it belongs to, it had to be really weak. You saw how slow it was pulsing.. it can't have been very strong, at least not at the moment." Sakura had seated herself next to Sugishita, and had remained uncharacteristically silent through most of the meal, but her point brought forwards everyone's attention, and no one could argue. "And if Momiji and this

other... being share the same vibes and feel the same things, we'd better pray that this other being stays healthy and out of trouble."

Matsudaira nodded. "Good point, dear." She set down her water glass and massaged a temple. "Which brings us to our current problem."

Yaegashi finished her sentence. "Finding out who this thing belongs to."

"Right." Matsudaira sighed. "And after that, finding out if this being can be kept safe, or rather, whether we can keep it safe. If it's an aragami, which is doubtful, it may not be wise to keep it living. But of course, we do have someone else to take into consideration."

Sugishita set down his chopsticks, already becoming lost in thought, and his earlier musings came into mind. If it was an aragami.. "herpes.."

"...herpes?"

"Er... I was just.. it's not what you think. I don't- what are you doing?" Sugishita stared at Sakura, who wasn't bothering to disguise the fact that she was trying to move as far away from him as possible.

She indiscreetly scooted to the other end of the table, next to Kunikida. "Nothing." She giggled a bit too loudly, causing everyone seated at the table to wince.

Ryoko fought off the urge to shrug. "All that messing around.. I suppose this was inevitable."

Yaegashi and Koume appeared dumbfounded, and then disgusted. Matsudaira blinked. Kunikida searched his pockets desperately for his spare pack of cigarettes. "Ryoko, have you seen my smokes?"

"Yes dear, I threw them out."

"You threw them out? But.. why?"

"Because I've decided that you shouldn't smoke any longer, especially with the baby on the way. You should try quitting. Sugi, have you been to a doctor?"

"I don't need a damn doctor!"

"Kunikida-san? You were never.. with him, right?"

"No- I mean, that's none of your business! Daitetsu, out of the garbage."

"I need my smokes, Ryoko.." Kunikida whined, looking at his wife pitifully.

Koume, never before much of an optimist as far as others were concerned, spoke up in an effort to be helpful. "It is treatable, you know. Not curable or nothin'. All those trashy lookin' girls that you date.."

"I haven't caught anything! It was just a comparison!" Sugishita looked disgusted, but exactly who he was disgusted with was unclear.

Momiji sat next to Kusanagi, who was doing his best to tune out the conversation. He gazed out into the yard through the sliding doors of the porch. She poked his forearm. He looked down at her, and it was obvious that he wasn't sure whether to be amused or disgusted. One look at Momiji's mystified face, however, decided for him, and mirth won over. His chuckle caused her to giggle, and before long, the two of them were snickering quietly to themselves. The comic relief was hardly appropriate for the current situation Momiji was in, but it was needed, and provided her with a moment of relaxation.

"Momiji, I don't think you should take this so lightly. This is serious. You should be more interested in finding out what's wrong with you. You may be fine now, but past experiences should have taught you to keep your guard up, no matter how things seem on the outside."

"But I'm fine. I mean, my bruises are pretty much healed over, I haven't so much as coughed in days, and my mitama hasn't been pulsing at all. And I don't have a fever anymore.. I'm fine. Can we give it a rest? Just for now?" Momiji pushed herself to her feet, heading for the back door.

Kunikida paused in his desperate search for his cigarettes to fix Momiji with an extremely annoying parental glare. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going outside." Without waiting for any to answer, she slid open the door and slipped outside, inhaling deeply before elaborating. "I'll be fine." With that, she shut the door and slipped into a pair of shoes, and proceeded to wander off into the yard.

Kusanagi frowned. "Dummy.."

Matsudaira sighed. "She has no idea just how serious this incident could become. A week of non-activity doesn't mean anything, especially for her."

***

Exactly how cold was it outside? On top of that, it was wet and extremely foggy. Mid-afternoon did nothing to burn off the morning's moisture; the leaves that still managed to cling to the tree branches were laden with droplets of water that plopped noisily to the ground, and the clouds above threatened to let loose another torrent of water later on in the evening. All in all, a gorgeous day.

Momiji ignored the cold that seemed to cling to her bare legs, and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt loosely over her head. She needed some privacy before she lost her mind.

Daitetsu had a gorgeous traditional style home, with a huge, very nontraditional backyard, with trees in abundance. She wished she could just wander among the trees and find a permanent hiding spot, where neither the TAC nor the Aragami could find her. That brought a smile to her lips, the thought of everyone searching frantically for her with no success. It was a brief smile, however, for she cared deeply for each of them in her own way, and felt guilty for finding the help that they desired to give her so irritating.

She wandered around a bit, into a grove of trees before leaning against a tree trunk and taking in this slight moment of calmness.

This would probably be one of the only times she would have a minute like this. The sky was already darkening, but she could still see her breath coming out in tiny puffs as she exhaled.

It was there that she let her musings overcome her, and became lost in thought.

This last week had been pure hell, with no exaggeration. The mysterious fever shivers, fatigue, and coughs. The mitama. The bruises. It was baffling, though she could hardly be shocked. If anyone had a less than normal life, it was her. But everything that had occurred before had at least some sort of explanation, however weird or absurd.

Her bruises had healed, and her mysterious flu-like symptoms had disappeared. Her mitama had all but ceased activity. That was confusing in itself. In fact, it was infuriating. She would rather have remained sick, riddled with bruises, coughing her heart out, and know exactly what was ailing her, rather than healing and unable to figure out why her body had went through so many changes so quickly. The worst part though, was the TAC. She loved them. She really did, but since the day she had fallen ill, she had constantly been surrounded by almost every member. If they weren't sleeping over, they stopped by on a regular basis. If they weren't doing that, they constantly phoned. Kunikida, in order to be closer to her, worked from home everyday. Takeuchi used Momiji as an outlet, as a way to practice utilizing her maternal instinct. Sakura was by her side constantly, even though most of her comments weren't particularly the most polite. Sugishita came by whenever he could, Koume and Yaegashi were there daily, and Matsudaira did routine checkups. Kusanagi was.... Kusanagi, forever unshakable and irritating, having the ability to be both insulting and coddling in one single action.

Her thoughts drew her into a half sort of trance, and she failed to notice that the sky had darkened considerably in the few minutes she'd been outside, a sure sign that it was going to rain again. The clouds swept over the sky, and the wind wandered in, stirring the fallen leaves around her feet, until a crunching sound from above snapped her to attention. She jerked her head upward, her hood falling from her head, and was startled when something bounced from an above perch, sending the remaining leaves that had managed to cling to the tree's branches spiraling downwards.

Momiji sputtered, brushing a leaf from her face, still staring upwards into the trees. Her eyes grew wide as a gust of wind that felt too foreign for comfort swept over her.

A dull thump accompanied a soft chuckle. "It seems I've startled you. Look at you, all grown up."

Crap. Double crap. Why hadn't she guessed? That voice, that annoyingly teasing, condescending voice.

"And sporting my mitama. You really shouldn't get into the habit of keeping other's possessions."

Oh, no. "w..wha.. this is yours? I should hav-" Momiji eyes went wide, becoming almost wild. She didn't bother asking why he was here, why he had returned. It didn't matter. No amount of questioning would help this situation make any more sense. Her life was funny that way.

Already pale, she took a step backward. Against her will, her eyes swept over him. He still looked the same, tall, lithe, and brooding. However, instead of the outfit she was used to seeing him in, his body was encased in leather, which, although a bit pretentious, wasn't exactly a bad look for someone like him. His snug fitting pants, black knee length jacket, and heavy boots seemed very like him. His long black hair was smoothed backward into a tight ponytail, and the unruly waves hung loose and heavy, resting against his neck and back.

"Correct. It's mine." His gaze traveled downward. "My.. what two years can do to a woman." He chuckled quietly. "It is, of course, inevitable, but what a change, albeit a rather pleasant one."

"What..."

Murakumo smirked. "What do I want? Is that what you were going to ask me?" He continued without waiting for an answer. "Silly girl. I thought it was rather self explanatory." His pale, slim fingers found their way to her cheek and gave her soft skin a gentle pat. "I've come to take what's mine," he murmured, his tone heavy. "Do you realize how much you've...blossomed.. much prettier than Kaede ever was." His gave traveled even further downward, resting on her most obvious indicative of blossoming.

"Don't touch me! Just leave.." But despite her protests, Momiji just couldn't bring herself to move. Her eyes dropped, following his stare. As petrified as she was, it seemed impossible to bring her body into motion, and she couldn't tear herself away, no matter how her mind told her to. Her breathing came a little faster, more furiously, and her face went from pale to hot under his watchful eyes. She returned her eyes to his face, and despite her fear, she took in his slender, almost inhuman face, involuntarily drinking in his features, his thin lips, his straight, commanding nose, and his cold, pale eyes... to find him boldly staring back at her. There was something frightening in those almost transparent orbs- a tinge of something unexpected. Murakumo nearly burned her under his perusal, his eyes blatantly angry.. or was that a hungry look?

She shut her eyes, and free of his gaze at last, spoke. "You're staring at me like-"

"Like?" His tone conveyed amusement. It seemed as though he was willing her to voice the obvious.

"I don't understand this." Momiji brought a hand to her forehead, then her throat, in a futile attempt to bring her voice back to it's original pitch. Dizziness was beginning to have it's way with her, and she blindly reached for something solid to break her fall. She wasn't planning on grabbing her enemy, but he was the only form present, and in her state of mind, it didn't dawn on her who she was seeking support from. To her surprise, she was immediately steadied with his aid.

"Understand this." He leaned close, so close the tip of his nose gently touched hers. "I want what belongs to me, princess. I'll get it, with or without your consent. Granted, it would be easier and more pleasant if you were willing, but life is full of setbacks, isn't it?"

Momiji attempted to rip her arms away from his, as he hadn't released them when he had steadied her. He held her fast by the wrists for a few moments, refusing to let her take any sort of control of the situation. The motion didn't help her dizziness, and she then remained still in order to keep her balance. Murakumo didn't hesitate to take advantage of her present weakness, and pulled her closer. Despite her disoriented state, mixed with fear and confusion, she still made a heroic attempt at being indignant. "By force, then? How.. like you."

His eyelids dropped, and another smirk wreathed his features as he began to run his fingers up and down her arms, almost affectionately, had it been anyone else. "No," he began in his low tone. "I have a few trump cards in my back pocket." He gave her what could have been considered a smile. "You'll see."

Momiji felt a rush of revulsion. "Let go, now."

His voice was playful, chiding. "Do you have any idea what I've went through to get to you?" He tsk tsk'd her gently, an unholy smile coming to surface. He stared down into her indignant face. She'd better be afraid. He'd had to wear golf pants for this, and she had the nerve to deny him what he wanted, what was part of him? In his eyes, that entitled him to take his possessions right this moment, but now wasn't the time. He had spoken with complete honesty; it would be far more pleasant if she was willing to succumb to him, and give him what he wanted. And in all honesty, he wasn't able to do much of anything by force just yet.

"Momiji...! Momiji, where the hell did you go?" Momiji blinked, finally managing to jerk herself away.

"Kusanagi." He was going to find them. "You have to leave. Now."

"Still with the imperfect soul, eh?" He definitely couldn't stay. The jerk had eight mitamas to his seven, and a serious beating would be coming to him if he hung around too much longer. "You could do better, but let's discuss that later, shall we?" He tipped his head, presenting her with one last smile, before he backed away, and disappeared into the fog.

She peered after him, struggling to see which direction he had left for a moment before giving up. "My god.." Murakumo's words suddenly became reality, hitting her full force, and she began to shake, uncontrollably. Her legs gave out, and she slid to the went, freezing grass. She heard Kusanagi's now frantic shouts, and merely sat where she fell, gazing at nothing in particular. Her legs raised, and she rested her face upon her knees, her hands resting uselessly at her sides.

There Kusanagi found her, and he stopped in his tracks. Wordlessly, he bent over, and grabbed hold of one of her hands.

Wide green eyes finally moved upward, meeting his, and Momiji found herself unable to cope. "Kusanagi.." He yanked her to her feet, and proceeded to drag her across the yard. She dropped her head to his shoulder, closed her eyes, and held in her tears as he escorted her inside.

Things couldn't get much worse.

HOME    BACK TO FICTION    NEXT