Ever since she had returned, she, along with every other person in the city, had been bombarded with images and information regarding the mysterious deaths that seemed to be escalating throughout the metropolitan area. But here in this artificial environment, none of that seemed real. Here, she felt as if she could shut out the present, and forget the past. Here, life was intransient; undisturbed – completely void of all meaning. It was like existing inside a cocoon where there was just her, and the blinking cursor on her computer screen. Nothing else.

That was how she wanted it to be, that’s how it felt right this minute. But that wasn’t how it really was. Midori had come here hoping to escape everything that had happened to her over the past week - to enshroud herself in the sterility of this place; to immerse herself in the flow of data and research and drown the futility of her thoughts.

Oblivion: that was the elusive draw of this cocoon - making her believe that it might be possible to forget. But from the start, reality had proven too strong for the fragile threads Midori was trying to weave around herself. Reality had intruded into her consciousness in the form of Ms. Matsudaira who had met her down in the lobby of the TAC building early this morning. It had clouded Ms. Matsudaira’s eyes with concern, and troubled her brow with care, starkly reminding Midori that the lives of others, possibly millions of others, could be affected by the information that she was keeping to herself.

How she truly wished that she could erase the past week. Then she wouldn’t have had to face those inevitable questions this morning; questions that Midori knew Matsu had every right to ask, like: what had happened at the iwatto, and why hadn’t Midori bothered to phone the others and let them know she was safe? Midori had known that the questions would come. She had even tried to prepare herself for them, spending an entire sleepless night thinking of what she should do, what she would say. In the end, she had once again let her foolish heart take precedence and decided that she would continue to maintain her silence regarding Murakumo, relying on the story that she had given Kusanagi to suffice.

But Midori wasn’t used to lying, and her conscience had weighed heavily upon her as she had stuttered her way through the weak story she had fabricated. Matsu had listened to her tale with consideration, far more consideration than Midori would have given it had their positions been reversed. And Midori was truly grateful for the older woman’s tact, because she knew that her story wasn’t fooling Matsu. Not even close.

"Midori," Matsu had finally said, her grey eyes solemnly moving over her assistant’s pallid features, "I don't know what happened to you, but I do know that you’re an intelligent girl. If you truly thought that what you knew was a threat, then I think that no matter what the circumstances, you would tell the rest of us." Matsu had placed her hand on Midori’s shoulder as she spoke, and Midori, riddled with guilt, had been unable to hold her gaze. But then, Midori had felt her body stiffen as Matsu added, "All the same, I feel I should warn you. Mr. Kunikida has already told me that he wants to speak with you on this matter. I know you’re not used to dealing with him, and he can seem rather harsh at times," Matsu squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, "but try not to let his gruffness alarm you. He truly is a kind man. And," Matsu had hesitated at this point, before finishing, "if you can find it within yourself to tell him what happened, I know that he will do everything in his power to help you deal with whatever it is that’s troubling you."

Midori had nodded in understanding, and Ms. Matsudaira had stood there for one moment longer, looking as if she wished to add something else, but she hadn’t. Instead, she had followed Midori up to her cubicle where they began going over the details of the TAC’s current investigation and battle with the Tengugaki. Nothing more was mentioned about the week that Midori had been missing, or about what might or might not have occurred inside the iwatto.

Matsu had spent several hours showing her all of the data they had collected thus far on the radio isotopes and what she was hoping to accomplish by isolating strands in the genetic code. She had given Midori the codes to work on, knowing that Midori was excellent at separating inessential coding and identifying genetic tags that were distinctive to some of the more complex protein chains. So Midori had spent her entire morning sitting in her cubicle, trying to lose herself in the long strands of code, while in the back of her mind lurked the dreaded knowledge that Mr. Kunikida would be coming to meet with her.

You wouldn’t have to worry about this if you would just tell him what really happened, a small voice chided.

Why was she continuing to protect him anyway? she was forced to ask herself miserably. She knew what he was, what he was capable of doing, rejecting him in her thoughts just by refusing to acknowledge his name. He was gone, so it shouldn't matter if she told the TAC about him. She had protected him long enough, surely?

But the reason for eschewing Murakumo’s name had nothing to do with rejecting him and everything to do with the effect that it had on her heart. Even when it was spoken only in her thoughts, she couldn’t control the rapid racing of her heartbeat. And why should she have to tell them about him when, so far, he’d done nothing wrong? As long as he remained inconspicuous and quiet, then how was she hurting anything by remaining silent herself? Besides, wasn’t it natural to want to protect someone you loved?

She didn’t have time to further debate the issue with herself before the phone on her desk chirped, making her jump as the sound flooded the vacuum of silence surrounding her.

"Fujisawa," she answered automatically

"Midori!"

Midori recognized Momiji’s cheerful voice right away, and her heart pounded; whether in relief or in dread, she wasn’t quite certain which.

"Momiji!" Midori intoned, infusing her voice with false brightness to try and match her friend’s genuine tone, "it’s so good to hear from you! Did Kusanagi tell you that I saw him yesterday?"

"Well, yes," Momiji responded, "that’s one of the reasons why I am calling. He was concerned, as we all were -"

"He’s staying with you there, isn’t he, Momiji?" Midori rushed on, ignoring Momiji’s comments to try and avoid any questions that might go with them.

"Yes, he is –" Momiji just barely managed to insert.

"That’s so great!" Midori exclaimed, "I had hoped things would work out between you two! I just couldn’t imagine you guys not being together – it just didn’t seem right somehow."

"Well," Momiji paused awkwardly. This wasn’t exactly how she had planned the conversation to go. But perhaps it would be easier this way. If she talked for a while, then maybe she could help narrow the distance that she felt Midori trying to put between them. "– yes, you could say that things between Kusanagi and I are traveling along at the speed of light."

"Really? How so?" Midori wanted to know.

"He – he – asked me to marry him last night," Momiji confessed quietly, all too aware of the nervous current that lay beneath the surface of her friend’s voice.

Midori sat in stunned silence for a moment. She had been completely unprepared for what Momiji said.

"You’re… you’re right," Midori uttered weakly, "that is definitely traveling at the speed of light, considering that not even a month ago, you thought he’d gone forever."

Midori stopped, a funny feeling beginning to settle over her. She was truly happy for Momiji, but despite that, Midori could feel her heart squeezing itself into a tight knot over what a shambles her own life had become in comparison to her friend’s.

"Congratulations, Momiji," Midori murmured, her enthusiasm sounding brittle in her own ears. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her own troubles aside and managed to drum up a bit of real enthusiasm. "I sincerely hope you said yes."

"Well, yes," Momiji responded sheepishly, "several times, actually."

"That sounds like you," Midori replied with a ghost of a chuckle. "- So… when is the wedding to be?"

Absently, she picked up a pencil from her desk, rolling it between her fingers as the hard lump in the middle of her chest began to sink and settle in the pit of her stomach, spreading uncomfortably outward.

"I’m not sure," Momiji replied as Midori struggled to concentrate on her words, "but soon, I think. Kusanagi doesn’t want to wait, and neither do I; especially considering what is happening with the Tengugaki and the possibility that the Aragami are –"

Midori bit her lip and tightly clenched her brown eyes closed for a long second, bracing herself as Momiji broke off, knowing with full certainty what would be coming next.

"Midori, I – you’re not acting like yourself." There was a long, uncomfortable silence and Momiji awkwardly tried to fill it. "I know there’s something wrong. You seem," she hesitated, searching for the right word, "- hurt. What happened to you at the iwatto that day?"

This was the one person that Midori longed to confess to, the one person whom she trusted above all others. Momiji would understand. Midori knew she would understand. Midori’s throat crowded with tears. She couldn’t tell her, though, because of Kusanagi. But even as she accepted this sad fact, words were already beginning to seep out, spilling over the wall of silence she had erected. And Midori knew that if she didn’t let them flow, she would lose complete control and her carefully erected façade would shatter entirely.

"It was – horrifying," she mumbled tightly.

Closing her eyes, she relived that day in her mind, seeing the mottled slimy skin of the Tengugaki, its grotesque frame bent over Murakumo as it struggled to overpower him. She could still hear its harsh cry, and a chill crept over her, making her blood run cold.

"Poor Midori," Momiji comforted sympathetically, "You must have been terrified."

Midori ‘s brown eyes snapped open, stretched wide and sightless as she stared in front of her, her body beginning to shake with suppressed emotion, still locked in the memory of that day.

"It was going to kill him," she whispered, unaware that her words had caused Momiji to hold her breath, afraid that the slightest noise would keep her from continuing. "I could hear him struggling with it – trying to keep it from tearing him apart - pinned beneath it. He was going to die," she repeated, her voice taking on a desperate note, an echo of the urgency she felt back then, "At the time, I didn’t know that he was –" her voice faded out for a moment and then got stronger, "but even if I had known, I still couldn’t let it kill him – no one deserves to die like that.."

There was a defensive note in her voice as if she expected Momiji to disagree with her, but Momiji had no intention of agreeing or disagreeing. She just remained silent, wanting Midori to continue.

"I hit it in the back with my hammer. It was the only thing that I had - and it let him go, but then, it came after me. It was so – huge – so – overwhelmingly… evil," her voice quavered, and she was oblivious as the pencil in her fingers snapped. "I really thought that I was going to die… I really did, but…" she stopped and Momiji waited.

She didn’t add anything and Momiji quietly prompted, "But what, Midori?"

"It didn’t even get a chance to touch me," she finished, her voice oddly calm. "He was covered in his own blood, and could barely stand up on his own feet; but instead of fleeing for safety, he attacked the Tengugaki to save me. He had nothing to gain for doing so, and yet he did it anyway.

Momiji realized after a few long, silent moments that Midori had volunteered all the information that she was going to.

"Who, Midori?" Momiji demanded, "who was he?"

"Who?" Midori repeated in a soft, confused voice, almost as if she didn’t understand the question.

"Who?" Momiji prompted a little more urgently this time, realizing that her opportunity to find out was slipping away.

Midori looked at the broken pencil lying on her desk, remembering how broken Murakumo had been.

"I – I can’t, Momiji," Midori replied, stricken, the distress at having to deny telling her best friend clearly reflected in her voice. "Please, don’t ask me," she whispered beseechingly. "Isn’t what I’ve told you enough?"

"There was green blood in the iwatto, Midori, and the Tengugaki don’t have green blood. That can only mean that he was Aragami," Momiji supplied, knowing that Midori already knew this fact. "Why won’t you tell me who he is?" she demanded after another long moment, struggling to understand her friend’s reticence. Only silence greeted her question, and Momiji sighed and tried coming at it from a different angle. "What happened after you left the iwatto? Did he follow you? Threaten to hurt you if you said anything?"

"He was in no shape to threaten me or anyone else for that matter," Midori replied, even though she had no trouble recalling the many threats that Murakumo had made against her.

But that was different, she silently defended, because she knew that they were empty words that he couldn’t carry out. And she knew he had known that as well, especially when he ended up in the floor, flat on his face.

"I thought for a while that he was going to die," she admitted.

"A while....? - does that mean that you were – with him the entire time?" Momiji asked, alarmed, "- This whole past week?"

"- I couldn’t just leave him at the iwatto, Momiji! I know for sure he would have died then," Midori defended.

Momiji closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against them in frustration. This was getting complicated. Much more complicated that Momiji could have ever imagined. The Aragami were a fearsome race, and Momiji could have understood Midori being afraid to tell anyone about what had happened, afraid of recriminations from an angry Aragami if he found out that he’d been betrayed by a human. But the fear that she felt was driving Midori was far from the kind engendered by the threat of violence or anger. She couldn’t yet understand it, but it did tell her one thing. It told her that the Aragami hadn’t been Orochi.

If it had been the great dragon Orochi, then Midori would not have survived her encounter with the Tengugaki. That left only Murakumo or perhaps another unknown Aragami altogether. But because Kusanagi had recognized the energy pattern, Momiji felt that it had to be Murakumo. He was the only logical choice. The only thing that eluded her now was a plausible reason why Midori was afraid to tell her who he was. And then, Momiji’s thoughts were arrested by a single notion that began to take shape, and grow.

"You’re in love with him, - this Aragami that you saved –" Momiji stated in stunned certainty after a protracted silence. "- aren’t you, Midori?"

"Me!? In Love? N-n- "

"It’s Murakumo, isn’t it?" Momiji interjected grimly, cutting off Midori’s denial, and felt her stomach sink when she heard her friend’s softly indrawn breath.

"I – I – " Midori stuttered.

"The TAC need to know," Momiji said.

"No," Midori flatly denied.

"You need to tell them," Momiji continued as if she hadn’t heard Midori’s refusal.

"No!" Midori repeated more vehemently.

Oh god, what was she supposed to do now? Momiji thought with dread. She felt horrible knowing that she was going to have to betray her friend’s feelings.

-Then you leave me no choice, Midori. I’ll have to tell them," Momiji informed her painfully. "He is too dangerous. Surely you realize that?"

"What? - No! Please, Momiji!" Midori objected desperately, "you can’t! What if I said that you were wrong? That it wasn’t him?"

"I know it would be a lie," Momiji softly observed. "I know you too well for that."

"Please, you don’t understand –" Midori entreated again, trying her best to reign in her alarm, and then she broke off when she heard someone clear their throat from behind her.

Swinging around in her chair, she saw Mr. Kunikida framed within the entrance to her cubicle, and she wondered how much of her conversation with Momiji he’d overheard. "H-h-hello, s-s-sir. I’ll be right with you," she managed to stutter before turning furtively away to speak to Momiji in an almost inaudible voice. "Mr. Kunikida is here."

"Please, Midori, tell him what you know. - Don’t make me betray your trust!" Momiji urged after straining to understand her friend’s words.

Midori clenched her fingers together, fighting the clash of emotions inside her.

"I’m sorry," she finally murmured woodenly. "I can’t. I’ve got to go."

Midori hurriedly disconnected Momiji and then turned her chair around and slowly stood up, hiding her bandaged hand behind her back and smoothing the damp palm of her other one against the dark material of her skirt. "I’m terribly sorry, sir," she apologized with terrified politeness as she bowed, feeling insignificantly small in comparison to the director of the TAC’s broad frame. "I hope you weren’t waiting there too long?"

"Not at all," Mr. Kunikida assured her blandly as he noted her obvious unease.

He was quite aware of the unspoken question she was asking, but he was unwilling to tell her. He wanted the unvarnished truth from her, and he didn’t think he would get it if she knew how long he’d been standing there. She would mostly likely try to find a way to work around what he’d overheard, determined to hide the truth because of her feelings for the Aragami whom she’d helped and who, it seemed, had helped her as well.

"I just wanted to go over a few questions about your encounter with the Tengugaki, Ms. Fujisawa, and I’m hoping that you can clear up a few details," He began brusquely.

Midori nodded mutely, her brown eyes staring timidly up at him.

"I’ll do my best, sir," she mumbled appropriately, while inwardly quaking in fear.

"I’m sure you will," Mr. Kunikida replied cordially with a small smile. "How long have you been with us now, Ms. Fujisawa?" He asked, his first question catching her a little off balance, since it was not in the vein she had expected.

"I’m not sure, sir," Midori replied uncertainly, trying hard to make her brain function properly so that she might respond. "I think it’s been close to two years now."

"And in all that time, has anyone done anything or said anything to suggest that you don’t belong here?"

"No, of course not sir," Midori assured him stiltedly.

"Even when you’d made mistakes?" Mr. Kunikida probed further, his eyebrow soaring.

Midori finally understood what he was getting at with the dawning realization that he must have overheard quite a bit of her conversation with Momiji.

Looking away from him, she softly acknowledged, "No one has ever suggested that I don’t belong here, sir. Everyone has always been very kind to me."

"You are a part of this team, Ms. Fujisawa, no matter what happens." Mr. Kunikida informed her and Midori, feeling as if he was chastening her for forgetting that fact, nodded her head. "- And as a part of this team, I expect you to always do your best." Midori nodded again, her eyes remaining steadfastly lowered. "You were sent to the iwatto in Takachiho to gather rock and water samples from the area, but while you were there, something occurred to keep you from carrying out your assignment. A further investigation of the site by other members of the team revealed the decapitated body of a Tengugaki and your satchel containing your keys, your tools, and your lab I.D.; but you were nowhere to be found, and your failure to report in alarmed us all.

"I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that knowing you’re safe was, and still is, the most important thing; but still, there are procedures and protocols that must be followed, no matter what the circumstances. Those procedures have been sadly compromised in this case, and no one is really certain as to what exactly happened inside that cave. Most troubling of all the missing details is how the Tengugaki lost its head and why Aragami blood was discovered there. However, now that you have returned to work, I am sure you can help us solve these mysteries. Isn’t that so, Ms. Fujisawa?"

Midori stared at the floor, feeling like a trapped animal. Help them solve the identity of the Aragami? She could do that, just as Momiji had advised her to, but Midori wondered if Momiji would have considered it so cut and dried if she’d been the one in that iwatto that day and the Aragami had been Kusanagi and not Murakumo.

If she refused to answer his question, Midori wondered what he would do. She finally looked up at Mr. Kunikida then. He was gazing steadily at her, his eyes, stern and yet, not unkind. He was expecting an answer and she had none to give. If she told him, then she was betraying her feelings towards Murakumo. But if she didn’t tell him, then she was betraying what she knew to be right.

"Daitetsu!" Ryoko Kunikida urgently called, cutting through Midori’s agonizing thoughts as she came rushing towards Midori’s cubicle, her face pulled into taught lines of alarm.

"What’s wrong," Mr. Kunikida automatically asked, his craggy face falling into a heavy scowl as she hurriedly rushed into speech.

"Aragami and Tengugaki have been spotted in an underground railway tunnel near Shinjuku Gyoenma station!"

Mr. Kunikida stiffened in alarm, reaching for his cell phone and dialing it even before Ryoko had finished speaking. He put the cell phone to his ear as he tersely demanded, "Which direction were they heading?"

"Towards Yotsuya station." Ryoko supplied, her blue eyes pinned anxiously to her husband’s face.

Mr. Kunikida jerked his head in a nod and then without preamble began speaking into the phone, "Kome, it’s Kunikida. There’s been a sighting. Gather the team. I want you and Yaegashi to head to the Shinjuki Gyoenma station where Ryoko and I will meet you. Have Matsu, Sakura and Sugishita head to Yotsuya. Ryoko is phoning the transit department right now," he made a motion to his wife, and she immediately acted upon it by pulling out her own cell phone. "She’ll have them close down the lines all around that area. Be aware that it’s not just Tengugaki that have been sighted in the region but also Aragami. I want you to be prepared to go into the tunnels, but wait for Ryoko and myself to get there. If anything emerges before we get there, call the Self-Defense Force for backup. Is that understood?"

Kome’s answer was brief and to the point, because less than a second later, Kunikida was putting his phone in his pocket, his eyes swinging back towards Midori.

"The information that you have might be the only advantage we get in facing our enemy," he informed her intently without pretense.

Murakumo’s words rose in her mind and she knew now that he had come out of hiding, she couldn’t protect him anymore – he’d meant to warn her of her own destruction by his hand, although what he’d failed to realize is that she would have willingly given him her life if it meant keeping him safe; but the lives of others – they were not his to take, not if it was in her power to prevent that from happening.

"It was Murakumo," Midori told him quietly and without hesitation. "He was the Aragami in Takachiho."

Mr. Kunikida stepped forward and put his hand on Midori’s shoulder. Much to her surprise, he gave it a light, comforting squeeze before stepping back. There was no condemnation, no recriminations. Just a simple thank you, and then he and Ryoko were gone.

Midori remained standing after they had disappeared, staring at the worn carpet of the empty hallway until its color blurred and her brown eyes brimmed with tears. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shivered, feeling beaten and cold as the tattered remnants of her cocoon proved insufficient to stop the slow bleeding of her heart.

Where in the hell did that little Aragami bugger go? Kusanagi silently scowled as he landed on top of a building in downtown Tokyo. His piercing eyes scanned the busy streets below, trying to find it, but it was nowhere to be seen. All the way from Izumo he had played tag with the lizard as it had dodged in and out of sight. It had made the most out of the dead, winter foliage, using it to cover its scurried movement, and Kusanagi hadn’t wasted the effort of trying to keep it in visual range as he tracked it, knowing that its tiny size would have made such a task virtually impossible.

Instead he had relied on the Aragami’s energy pattern, biding his time, not really wanting to catch it anyway, but instead waiting for it to lead him to its master. The only problem was, now that he was in Tokyo, about the only thing he could feel was the heavy, dark energy of the Tengugaki. It pounded around him like a jackhammer, drowning out the smaller pulse of the Aragami lizard as if it was nothing more than the subtle ticking of a clock.

Kusanagi clenched his fists and closed his eyes in frustration. He had not come this far to fail, dammit! Trying to relax, he willed his mind to find the Aragami’s flow, concentrating on his own mitamas and the energy that was contained within them. After a few minutes his eyes flew open and he turned his head sharply and stared at a passing railway train. His cat-like eyes followed it as it moved into a tunnel, and then he leapt down off the building and headed towards the train tracks.

How predictable that an Aragami would choose the darkest place it could find to hide, he thought, his lips twisting in bitter satisfaction.

Ducking inside the tunnel, Kusanagi began moving swiftly and silently forward, along the steep slope of the tracks, all of his senses alert as he stared intently ahead through the darkness. He had hoped that the farther down he traveled, the more protection the earth would offer him from the Tengugaki’s energy, thus making it easier to follow the flow of Aragami energy. But much to his disappointment, that didn’t happen. The Tengugaki’s energy was just as strong here, if not stronger, and Kusanagi found the intensity extremely unnerving as he went deeper and deeper into the darkness.

He turned his head, his eyes scanning the dark walls of the tunnel as he recalled that Zan Kazai had said there were nine Sentinel Tengugaki in Tokyo. He could detect no movement along the smooth tunnel walls, even though it felt like one was right on top of him. Despite the lack of movement, the dark draw of energy was chillingly close and he couldn’t help but wonder if he would end up encountering one of the slimy bastards before he’d had a chance to catch up with the Aragami lizard.

And then his thoughts were shattered by an unexpected, shrill sound that brought him up short. It was the urgent squeal of brakes from a subway train. It was followed by an explosion of noise - the crunching of metal, a loud boom of collision and then, the hissing thunderous roar that Kusanagi recognized as a Tengugaki. Swearing violently, Kusanagi jolted forward. The Aragami lizard was forgotten for the moment, and his thoughts focused on the train full of people that the Tengugaki would use to fuel its mitama - unless he could get there before it had a chance to start harvesting human souls.

Flitting like a shadow through the darkness, the wail of human suffering mingled with the crackling and popping of what had to be the train on fire, painting a grim picture of what lay ahead, and Kusanagi’s urgency increased. Five hundred yards in front of him lay a bend in the tracks and as he drew closer to it, he could see the faint, flickering orange glow against the tunnel wall; a warning sign of the tragedy that was waiting to greet him.

Just a little more, he thought, and tried to prepare himself for what he would see. Clenching his jaw tightly, he turned the corner and stopped abruptly. He was completely unprepared, despite his efforts to the contrary, to deal with the shock of what met his eyes.

Several lifeless bodies were strewn about the tracks, bloody and eviscerated, the bleached color of their skin standing out in ghastly contrast to the crimson stains of torn flesh. But Kusanagi barely noticed them. His eyes, just like the eyes of all the terrified people huddled around the edges of the wall, were centered on the tracks where the Tengugaki raged, fighting with a lone figure with pale skin and long, flowing dark hair.

"Murakumo." Kusanagi hissed the name, his voice throbbing with hatred.

His cat-like eyes narrowed to mere slits as he stared at his all too familiar enemy. He had fully expected to come across either Murakumo or Orochi sooner or later, knowing it was to one or the other that the Aragami lizard owed its allegiance. But not like this, he thought dazedly watching the two figures dance around the tracks as they lunged at one another. Never in a million years, would he have expected to find Murakumo in what looked like a heated battle to defend a train full of humans against the hell-born nightmare with the black mitama. It was like some sort of twisted dream.

"Just how much longer are you going to stand there gaping like a useless blade of grass, Kusanagi?" Murakumo ground out, letting Kusanagi know that he’d seen him as he dodged the long, deadly talons of the Tengugaki at the same time.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Kusanagi demanded caustically finally snapping out of his surprised stupor.

"What does it look like I’m doing, you cretin?" Murakumo replied coldly. The effort of talking to Kusanagi affected his ability to parry the Tengugaki’s swiping attack and this time when it lunged, its claws ripped into his shirt, the sharp, pointed talons scoring his side with several thin lines that welled with blood. "I’m trying to rid myself of this abominable eyesore. Even as imperfect as you are, that fact should be obviously clear!" The Tengugaki darted forward again, and Murakumo stopped speaking long enough to flit sideways and make a lunging counterattack, the glancing blow of his blade bouncing off the jagged blades along the Tengugaki’s forearms. "- I would think that since it is the humans that this pile of refuse seems to prefer as food," Murakumo scowled furiously, "that you would be more than happy to help me exterminate it!"

After a muttered oath, Kusanagi unsheathed his blades and flitted forward, viciously slashing at the Tengugaki. The creature was unable to parry both Murakumo and Kusanagi at the same time and Kusanagi’s blow tore a long gash in its shoulder. Dark, foul-smelling blood oozed down its slimy skin and with a howl, it reared on its powerful hind legs. Sharp fangs shimmered with a coating of blood and long strings of saliva dripped down its chin as its cry reverberated off the walls.

"Dammit," Kusanagi swore darkly when it turned and took off running in the darkness. Without pausing to look at Murakumo, he turned and began pursuing it.

Traveling as fast as he could, the wind whipped against his body, his clothing catching the gusts in a rustle of movement so it took a few moments before he realized that he wasn’t alone in his pursuit.

"Why didn’t you kill it when you had the chance, you fool?" Murakumo’s voice hissed with recrimination from beside him.

Surprised, Kusanagi briefly turned his head to see the pale profile of Murakumo who was keeping pace with him, his cold grey eyes focused intently forward. What in THE hell !? Kusanagi wondered. Why was Murakumo helping him to chase down a Tengugaki? If before had seemed like a bizarre dream, then this went beyond even that. Kusanagi was having trouble comprehending what was happening and he stared blankly at Murakumo watching as the pale Aragami’s well shaped lips pulled into the deep lines of a frown.

"It’s too late now," he sullenly proclaimed. It’s already fled underground."

He abruptly pulled up ending the chase, but Kusanagi stubbornly continued onwards, not wanting to acknowledge that his hated enemy was right. Ahead of him lay only darkness, and after a few more seconds he reluctantly stopped too. He might not be able to finish this battle, he thought grimly, but there was another one waiting to be started.

Right where he had left Murakumo standing.

Spinning on his heel, he prepared to double back after Murakumo, but discovered he didn’t have to when he found the arrogant Aragami lord standing only a few feet behind him, brooding emotions shadowing his eyes. He was staring silently at Kusanagi, his hands in his pockets.

Without a word, Kusanagi lunged at him and with seamless motion, Murakumo pulled his hands free, the sword in his right hand clanging loudly as he parried Kusanagi’s sudden thrust. With his other hand he pushed roughly at Kusanagi’s chest, causing him to stumble. By the time Kusanagi had recovered his balance, Murakumo had flitted out of reach and was once again standing in his silent, watchful pose.

"Where’s your little spy, Murakumo?" Kusanagi jeered softly, standing with his legs braced apart in a crouch. "Did it get eaten by the Tengugaki? Is that why you were fighting back there? To avenge the death of your faithful servant?" The last words came out in a growl as Kusanagi sprang forward to attack.

Small sparks ignited in the darkness as their blades met and locked, the small orange embers quickly dying away to the hiss of Murakumo’s voice, "The reasons why I fight are my own, as I believe you once said to me – and no – I sent Sekage back to the Kingdom of the Roots. Why let the Tengugaki slaughter both our races?"

Kusanagi continued to press his blade forward against his own, and with effort, Murakumo threw him off and darted out of reach.

"Why won’t you fight me, dammit?" Kusanagi shouted in frustration, his face pulled into a feral growl as he glared at Murakumo. "You ran away from me in Takachiho as well. Are you afraid to lose?"

The brooding lines in Murakumo’s face up until now had almost been as hostile as Kusanagi’s, but his eyes widened incredulously at Kusanagi’s words and he gave a bark of harsh laughter.

"Afraid?" he scoffed, "of losing!? To an imperfect fool like you?!" He waved his hand dismissively at such an idea. "The thought never even crossed my mind. – No, Kusanagi, the reason I choose not to fight you has nothing to do with fear – It is simply that I have come to realize that there are some things worth fighting for, and some things that are not."

There was a moment of silence while Kusanagi digested this piece of information and then he exclaimed caustically, "You expect me to believe that you aren’t fighting for the Aragami race anymore?" Kusanagi lunged again, believing that Murakumo was toying with him. "Just how big a fool do - you - think - I - am!?" With every last word he struck a blow, the ringing of steel punctuating each syllable he uttered.

Murakumo deflected each one, but now his own temper was beginning to rise. Despite his parries, Kusanagi kept pressing towards him relentlessly, and Murakumo knew that if he slipped or let his guard down, for even a fraction of a second, Kusanagi would gain the upper hand.

"ENOUGH!" Murakumo bellowed in rage.

Drawing up his fist, he fired a bolt of energy at Kusanagi. Just as he’d anticipated, Kusanagi vaulted backwards to avoid the blast and Murakumo made his move, lowering his shoulder and rushing at him, hitting Kusanagi squarely in the stomach. Kusanagi’s feet made a scraping noise as he was dragged backwards against the subway tracks until his heel caught against the edge of one and he went down hard with Murakumo squarely on top of him. Kusanagi arms shot up, his hands encircling his enemy’s throat. But he couldn’t maintain any kind of pressure against Murakumo’s neck. His arms were shaking, struggling as Murakumo’s strong fingers pulled at his own, threatening to rip Kusanagi’s hands away completely.

"There’s nothing that I would enjoy more, than to give you the fight you are craving," Murakumo panted. He leaned heavily against Kusanagi’s arms with the full weight of his body and Kusanagi felt his muscles further weakening. "- How regrettable that that’s no longer an option - since I must now consider you an ally instead of an enemy."

Kusanagi grunted in derision.

"Sleeping for three years has seriously impaired your reasoning if you think that I’m going to believe that the King of the Aragami," Kusanagi spat the detested words out, "considers me as an ally!"

"Why in god’s name would I lie about such an unwanted turn of events?" Murakumo demanded, "and why would I bother saving a train full of your kind from one of those hell-born, abominations if that wasn’t the case?"

Kusanagi didn’t have an answer for that one and Murakumo pressed harder, knowing he was close to overpowering his opponent. Kusanagi glared into the cool grey eyes above him, his teeth gritted, an agonizing howl rising in the back of his throat as his arms finally gave out and Murakumo pinned them to the ground.

"Are you ready to concede?" Murakumo inquired challengingly.

"Don’t count on it, you bastard!" Kusanagi hissed, lifting his knees and flipping Murakumo off of him.

Kusanagi hastily scrambled to his feet but not before Murakumo had managed a lithe roll, recovering just as quickly. Brushing the dirt from his elbows, he shot an irritated look at Kusanagi, finally taking up a defensive stance instead of just standing there with his hands in his pockets.

Instinctively, Kusanagi wanted to jump at him again, but finally, his logic began to overtake his emotions and it made him pause. He studied Murakumo’s stance, and he reflected on what he’d seen and what he knew, his mind coming to the same conclusion over and over. Murakumo’s current behavior was nothing like the Murakumo of the past – saving humans, refusing to fight – that just wasn’t the Murakumo Kusanagi was used to. So, did that mean that the Aragami lord was telling the truth? And if he was, what could have possibly caused such a radical change in him?

Kusanagi’s mind flitted to the iwatto in Takachiho where Murakumo had first appeared and he tried to imagine what had taken place there. It wasn’t too hard to envision the battle between Murakumo and the Tengugaki – except for the part about Midori. Where exactly did she fit into all of this? - For it was patently obvious that she knew about Murakumo - she had tried to protect him. Of that Kusanagi was certain. Had she in some way effected a change in Murakumo?

"You haven’t changed at all, Kusanagi – you’re still the same irritating little bug you always were," Murakumo intoned nastily, breaking into Kusanagi’s musings.

"And you’re still an arrogant bastard," Kusanagi countered with a scowl, "even now when you claim to be my ally. The last time I checked, Hell had yet to freeze over, so that leaves me with only one question: why your sudden change of heart?"

Heart…

Was that the answer? Kusanagi gave him a speculative look which Murakumo met with a blank stare.

"Could it be that Midori Fujisawa has something to do with you changing your mind?" Kusanagi watched Murakumo closely as he framed the question and he was able to see a swift change in the Aragami’s expression before the calm mask was once again in place. "She was there at the iwatto, the same day you were, even though she denies it. Are you going to deny it too?"

Murakumo shrugged his shoulders, "Why should I? She distracted the Tengugaki long enough for me to kill it."

"But that’s not all – it can’t be," Kusanagi interjected, Murakumo’s impassive expression offering him no clues as he tried to fit the missing pieces together. "There was green blood inside the iwatto, which means that you were injured – Midori was missing for about a week," Kusanagi rapidly deduced, his eyes sliding pensively over Murakumo as if he were looking for signs of injuries or infirmities. "so, she must have been trying to help you, - you must have been pretty bad off – I mean, normally, with your regenerative capabilities, it shouldn’t have taken that long – and to rely on a human, you must have been close to death – "

Murakumo’s lips quirked in grim amusement and he snorted, "You have quite a vivid imagination."

Kusanagi’s eyes traveled back to Murakumo’s face. "Tell me I’m wrong," he murmured, his brow soaring in challenge.

Murakumo refrained from replying, his haughty expression sending the silent message that he wasn’t going to help Kusanagi by explaining anything. But Kusanagi wasn’t about to accept what Murakumo was telling him unless there was a damned good explanation – and so far, the only one Kusanagi had come up with was feeble at best.

"Just because she helped you - that doesn’t justify your sudden acceptance in the existence of the human race and it sure as hell doesn’t explain why you would try to save a train full of humans, either..."

"With that fertile imagination of yours, I’m surprised that you didn’t make the most obvious connection, Kusanagi," Murakumo replied coolly, his hands finally going back in his pockets as he realized that Kusanagi was refraining from further attack for the time being. "- the one connection that closes the gap between humans and Aragami and is the main reason for my willingness to change the path of my goal for the Aragami Kingdom."

"And what might that be, exactly?" Kusanagi inquired dubiously.

"My son," Murakumo announced, a cold smile carving into his arrogant expression as he saw the shock register on Kusanagi’s face. "Yes, Kusanagi, the child that your Kushinada has is my son. I’m very surprised that you didn’t make that connection earlier – how else did you think that I was able to awaken?"

"Noa? Is… your son?!?" Kusanagi muttered under his breath, utterly dumbstruck. He struggled with the concept of Murakumo lowering himself enough to conceive a child with a human, and concluded that the Aragami lord must have been quite desperate.

A brief expression of distaste flickered over Murakumo’s face at hearing the name of his son for the first time. Noa? His sense of pride chafed at the soft sounding name. Why couldn’t Hikaru have chosen a stronger name for him, like Shun, or Ryu?

"Your son?" Kusanagi repeated incredulously, still unable to resolve the idea in his mind.

‘Yes. My son," Murakumo reiterated coldly. "It was after careful consideration, that I was inclined to agree with Lord Susano-oh. My son is indeed the key to the survival of the Aragami kingdom."

Kusanagi started at the mention of Lord Susano-oh, his mind working rapidly. After everything that had happened, he couldn’t believe that Susano-oh would champion the Aragami race over the humans – he had taken too much care with the life of the Kushinada for that to be the case. No. It was more likely that he was trying to bring about a peaceful co-existence between the two races. Noa was a hybrid, just like Kusanagi and just exactly the type of peacemaker that the Storm God would rely on for that to happen. Kusanagi looked at Murakumo again, as if seeing him for the first time. He was beginning to believe that the Aragami lord was telling the truth, but still…

"If you have changed, then why was Midori afraid to tell anyone about your existence?" Kusanagi asked curiously.

Murakumo stared down his nose a Kusanagi and replied haughtily, "What passed between that human girl and myself is none of your concern."

Kusanagi blinked and a slow smile slid across his face.

"So that’s how it is," he murmured knowingly.

Murakumo ground his teeth in irritation, and replied irritably, "What are you insinuating?"

"I’m not insinuating anything – just making a surprising observation," Kusanagi murmured, the little smile curving the corners of his mouth at Murakumo’s reaction taking on a smug twist. "Getting close enough to a human to sire a child has really changed your… tastes, hasn’t it?"

The color of rage suffused Murakumo’s face and for the first time since their meeting, he took an offensive stance, stepping aggressively towards Kusanagi. Just because Midori had shown that she cared for Murakumo did not mean that he felt the same, he muttered furiously to himself.

"The hell you say!" he hissed through clenched teeth breaking off as he heard the gruff accents of the leader of the TAC from the darkness behind him.

Abruptly he turned and looked over his shoulder. A small contingent of the TAC was heading towards him and Kusanagi, their way lit by the beams from several flashlights and their handguns held at the ready.

"Kusanagi!" Mr. Kunikida called urgently, his voice sounding hollow as it bounced off the tunnel walls.

Murakumo turned again, his cold, grey eyes locking with Kusanagi’s cat-like ones.

"It seems our little chat is at an end," he noted frigidly.

"Why don’t you stay, Murakumo, and greet your new comrades," Kusanagi couldn’t help but suggest in a goading way.

"I doubt they would believe me any more than you have, so I will leave it for now," Murakumo replied tonelessly, adding, "perhaps in time you will see the truth in what I have told you."

"Oh, I see it now, it’s just that I don’t like you," Kusanagi contradicted.

"The feeling is mutual, I can assure you" Murakumo replied caustically and then with less emotion, "- after all of this is over, Kusanagi, my decision regarding the humans will remain the same. Nonetheless, my son belongs with me and you can tell the Kushinada that I will be coming for him."

Kusanagi didn’t bother replying as, with a curt nod, Murakumo turned and in a flicker of swift movement he was gone.

Mr. Kunikida paused as Murakumo zipped past him before he and his group continued on to where Kusanagi stood waiting for him.

"What the hell happened here?" He began without preamble, studying the pensive look on Kusanagi’s face.

"It seems," Kusanagi slowly replied, "that we have an unexpected ally."

"Murakumo!?" Kunikida demanded amidst the murmured voices of the other team members who were expressing their disbelief as well.

"Murakumo," Kusanagi verified, "Lord of the Aragami and father of Noa."

"You don’t believe him, do you," Kunikida asked, his shocked brown eyes locking with Kusanagi’s sharp, cat-like ones.