-Chapter 7-

What met Kagome's eyes several hours later, inside the enormous insurance building on the basement floor, was the same metal door Yasha had left behind him what felt like ages ago.

She openly stared at the futuristic looking scanners, the sound of she and her rescuer's footsteps echoing about the small entrance area as they approached. It was simple but professional, like the main lobby had been when they'd entered. The floor was polished white tile while the walls were a typical cream-ish color. The faint beeping sound of the scanners caught her attention most and she watched as Yasha passed through each one of them with ease. A part of her was still denying the reality of where her existence now stood. She didn't know what to do or how to act.

When the entrance slid open Kagome blinked in surprise. Her jumpiness hadn't gone away. She stared into the open entryway, seeing what looked to her at first glance like just another office floor, but even she knew better. Tightness clenched within her chest, and she struggled to catch her breath.

"Ready?" Yasha asked calmly, turning to watch the response he got.

Kagome hadn't the courage to look him in the eye and focused attention forward. "Uhm hmm." She mumbled with a small nod, her doubts breaking through from the hesitancy in her voice.

Eyeing the girl carefully, Yasha wanted to say something to loosen both their nerves, but knew there really was nothing he could say that would make a difference. He was a man of action. Even speaking normally for him was like reciting the perfect poem. It never came out the way he wanted it to. She just seemed so lost, unstable in his eyes. He'd seen such a look before, in himself. 'Am I sympathizing?' He exhaled a short breath through his nose, pushing away the frustration already building, and led the way forward in silence.

The moment the two stepped inside all audible noise within the 'office' stopped, attention magnetically pulled on them. Whether it was because the news of Sango's capture had already spread, or because of the battered appearances of her partner and his tag along was a mystery. Yasha scowled at the onlookers, hardening his demeanor to cover the feelings of awkwardness and shame that were again rising from their suppressed state. He balled his hands into fists and clenched his jaw to tame his temper, slowly continuing the death march.

Even with his thoughts so haunted and cluttered, he didn't miss the faint whispers of his collogues. The crude gossip they were already starting. Pressure in his fists increased. They didn't need to make a scene like this, to shine a spotlight on him and wordlessly mock him for his failure and weakness. His chest burned with the overwhelming emotions, and he forced himself to look straight ahead, to openly ignore the sensation of being judged.

Kagome watched Yasha's disposition shift. She didn't understand it, until she dared to look into the eyes of the people around her. Their expressions varied between cold to something beyond disappointment. 'That woman Sango must've meant a lot to these people for them to be acting like this...' It should have been touching, but witnessing everything from such an ignorant stand point, it just felt wrong. Her own feelings of loss worsened for some reason, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears from blurring her sight.

Yasha counted the steps that remained up to Boushin's closed (and yet to be repaired) glass door. The blinds were shut, but the light was on. The shame intermingled with dread, and Yasha had to take another shaky breath to keep calm. Before approaching the door, he turned to Kagome who instantly looked up at him nervously. "I'll come find you later. Ask to see Myoga, he'll get you settled." Kagome's eyes widened in panic, opening her mouth to protest before she was cut off. "Remember what I told you, wench."

Struggling to ignore Yasha's casual 'insult', the conversation from just before they had walked up to the building echoed through her mind.

They'd pulled up in Yasha's worn down old pickup truck, their destination casting a shadow over their parking spot in a strangely intimidating way. Kagome had stared at it in awe before the vehicle's engine was turned off and her rescuer turned slightly to give her instructions.

"Now listen. You don't know anything about this place, you're the rookie. There are things you can and can't do right now. Keep your cool, don't ask too many questions, and you'll be fine."

Kagome found herself irritated at his tone. She narrowed her eyes, planting a hand on the busted leather of her seat, defiance in on her face. "Do you expect me to just take that like an idiot? I want my answers and I want them right now!"

Yasha rolled his eyes with a loud groan. "Don't start that again! We've been through this already. You'll get your damn answers eventually, but only if you cooperate. Act stupid and you get shoved out with nothing. Believe me, I would know. Now shut up and get out of my car."

Insensitive as it had been worded, Kagome realized she was pretty much at this organization's mercy, and had no real room for opinions. Maybe later, but as she had been told, it would only be after she proved herself worth the time. With a slouch of her shoulders, Kagome curtly nodded her consent. Turning to face the audience that was still shamelessly staring at her and Yasha, she stepped away from his side to approach the nearest agent about this Myoga person.

That taken care of and out of his hair for the time being, Yasha refocused his attention on the door before him. Raking a hand through his hair, he forced himself to knock on the door. It swung open instantly, taking him by surprise. He hadn't expected a response so quickly. His slightly widened eyes met the narrowed ones of Miroku Boushin, whose expression told him what he already knew. He was in some deep shit.

"Come inside." The boss spoke coldly, stepping aside while his charge wordlessly marched in and took a seat in front of his desk like a scolded child. Boushin followed, sitting back in his own chair behind the desk. He folded his hands as he had a habit of doing when he was trying to find words, staring almost blankly at the agent before him.

The silence seemed to drag on longer than Yasha was willing to handle and he finally spoke up. "If you're going to bite my head off just get it over with." His tone was low, tired.

Boushin eyed him irritably, what composure he had been fighting to keep already slipping. "The phone call was less than promising." He remarked offhandedly.

Yasha scoffed with a glance to the side, avoiding eye contact. "Look, I already know I screwed up, alright? Your little posse outside made it loud and clear." He sulked. It was obvious how he truly felt, but he tried to hide it behind an immature mask.

Boushin leaned forward with his metal arm planted on the desk in all seriousness, hand half fisted. "I'm trying to be as reasonable as I can with this-situation. But I can only be so fair, Yasha. Sango was a valuable asset to this division, this cause. To lose her under your watch doesn't make the situation look good."

Yasha fought the impulse to shoot back a heated retort about Sango's true value, clenching his already sore jaw.

There was no way to be fair based on lies. Even though Sango had been head of the mission in the field, when it came time to fill out mission prep reports to Boushin beforehand, Yasha had instead put down that he was in charge, to save her reputation if they were caught. Just another thing that had completely backfired on him.

There was no way out of this. He would get demoted, and lose his clearance into the Phasmatis databases. He would lose his main link to find out about the past, his past. His objective would never be reached. He had risked everything only to lose it completely with no gain in turn. He should have been angry with Sango for talking him into such a crazy and reckless thing, blame her for it all, but he couldn't. He'd had the chance to say no and inevitably save her from the disaster that waited, but he didn't. He'd gone along with it. This was his personal burden to bear, and as stubborn as he was, he didn't have the gall to deny that truth.

"However," The word stopped Yasha's mental sulk fest dead in its tracks. "Given the fact you did retrieve Kagome, and assumedly trashed a confirmed Deceiver HQ, I think I can work you through this."

Yasha stared at his boss in genuine shock. 'He's-letting it slide?'

"Don't give me that look Eiyuu; I didn't say you were off the hook." He actually earned a glare for that.

"Then what are you saying? What's my punishment?"

Boushin studied him thoroughly, as if to second guess himself before giving a simple reply. "The girl."

Yasha raised a brow. "Kagome? How is she my punishment?"

"I'm assigning you to look after her."

A contemplative pause, then it clicked. "You mean as-as a mentor? That's only for unassigned agents."

"And you are an unassigned agent as of today." Boushin patiently reminded him.

Yasha fought the urge to smack himself. 'Right. No partner.'

"For the time being you'll be suspended from active field duty in place of your new task. Think of it as a temporary substitution."

Yasha thought it over, gaze drifting down to his shoes. 'He didn't say anything about a demotion, and if I know Boushin, the higher ups told him what punishment to give.' It was a lesser of two evils, and he had already told himself he would accept whatever consequences that came. 'Nothing to do but go with it for now.'

Then he realized something else.

Locking eyes with his boss in an intense stare, he spoke. "What are you going to do about Sango?"

Boushin's shoulders slouched at the question, head lowering slightly to stare at his folded hands. This was the part of their conversation he had been dreading all morning since his phone call to the Capital base. He forced himself to say the words without losing control of himself, his tone hollow. "Nothing."

That one word felt like a cold slap in the face. Yasha had been keeping himself together by a thread, only because he'd had a purpose, had a hope. Now even that was being taken from him. Nothing. Sango's rescue party wouldn't be coming. That's what he was saying?

Yasha slapped his hands on the arms of his chair and gripped them angrily. "What do you mean nothing? You can't just leave her back there to DIE!"

This reaction had been expected. "I inquired to the Capital as to what should be done, and that was their answer. There's nothing we can do. She chose to disobey orders and whatever happens to her," Boushin swallowed hard, "would be a fitting punishment for her disloyalty."

Yasha shot up from his chair, hovering over Boushin's threateningly, ire aflame with malice. "You know that's a load of BULLSHIT! You cannot expect me to sit here and take this crap from you and be fucking FINE with it! There is ALWAYS a way to save someone from those bastards! Your damn arm is proof of that!" The loud boom of his voice bounced off the walls, and Boushin's stone faced composure was slipping.

His expression was hard and forced. "Sit. Down. Eiyuu. Before I have you thrown out. You are in no position to question my actions and I could easily worsen your punishment if you do not calm yourself."

His threat had no effect. Yasha banged his fist on the wood of the desk. "Calm myself? CALM MYSELF? We are talking about Sango's LIFE here you son of a bitch! There is no way any damn consequence is worth sacrificing something like that! I will not stand here and let my partner get MURDERED because you don't have the balls to speak your mind!"

It was enough. With such seething intensity rarely seen in Boushin, he slammed his hands on his desk, shoved himself to his feet, jammed his finger toward the door and hollered, "Get the HELL out of my office! NOW!"

The outburst silenced them both, Yasha glaring daggers in wordless profanities at the man before him before bitterly scoffing, marching to the door and walking out with the loudest slam one could make. The door shattered behind him.

Glass wasn't the only thing that was broken that day.

-[]-[]-[]-

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Myoga?" Kagome asked, peeking her head into the doorway of what she assumed was the man's office. It was on the smaller side, having only a bookshelf, desk, two chairs, and a lamp. It would have been rude to say, but it also smelled of old man.

Said man himself had his back facing the etrance at being called, but perked up when he heard the girl's voice, and turned around to face her. His eyes were slightly enlarged by his big round glasses, and were a dark solid tone of brown. His nose was rather pointy, underlined by a traditional Japanese mustache. He was also balding. "Ah, you must be the infamous Kagome. I was told you might come and see me when you arrived. Please, have a seat." His accented voice was unexpectedly raspy and low. Was he sick?

Kagome nodded and took the open seat in front of Myoga's desk, while he took the one behind it. She raised a brow at his statement. "Infamous? Everyone knew I was coming?"

Myoga chuckled lightly at her suspicious tone. "Not to worry my dear, only the ones to which it concerned."

It was obvious he knew more than he was letting on, but Kagome supposed it was to be expected he would hide things from her. She decided to take on a different route. "And you're one of them. Why?"

"Well, as you probably assumed from the sign outside my door, I'm this division's counselor." He must have seen the distasteful face Kagome made afterward, his own expression becoming serious. "Most don't enjoy seeing me much either, but it's required when victims of the Deceivers are brought here."

"To become agents." Kagome added knowingly.

A pause. "Well-sometimes. It's for, shall we say, important or special people that come to know of our organization."

A cryptic answer at best. She voiced this. "Fair enough. So what are you supposed to be talking to me about then? What it was like after being kidnapped?"

Myoga gave her a small smile, readjusting his glasses. "We can talk about whatever you're comfortable discussing."

Kagome fought the urge to roll her eyes. A typical response. This was why she didn't believe in therapy. With a fold of her arms and without even realizing it, a defensive wall was constructed in that moment. "Look, I won't deny I've been through some-things, but I don't need to talk about them to anyone, let alone a stranger. I know you're just trying to do your job and see whether I'm crazy or not, but you can save your breath. I'm doing fine."

Myoga just laughed. "I'm not surprised. But in truth, I'm just here to see if you know anything."

Now they were getting somewhere. "Know anything?"

"About why you were captured. If you overheard anything important. Saw anything."

Even if he wasn't asking for her life story, it suddenly felt like he was. There was this feeling of being overwhelmed, haunted. Her throat nervously tightened and her heart rate felt fast. 'Whatever I say would be facts, so why am I-?' It only took a moment for her to realize. It was still too fresh. What she did remember was plaguing her, and understandably so. Then there was the problem of trust. Who would Myoga tell once she 'spilled the beans'? Who needed to know? She still had so many questions herself, but it was becoming clear these people were only planning on sucking her dry for information. She wouldn't get anything by playing nice.

She must have been thinking longer than planned, as the counselor had to get her attention. "Kagome? Is there anything you can tell me about your capture?"

She didn't hesitate. "Not that I can recall, sorry." She wasn't sure if she'd intended on sounding so stone cold against talking, but she did.

They sat in mutual silence for a few moments more as Myoga studied his new patient. It was clear she wasn't going to tell him anything, whether it be for her sake or the cause's. Perhaps it was just too early to ask anything from her. But from what he could sense Kagome's reserved attitude went far deeper than a posttraumatic stress disorder, something from as early as childhood perhaps. Myoga simply sighed at his findings, unsure if this one could ever be cracked. He'd had his experiences with stubborn agents, but it was going to take some serious determination to clear this task. Only time at the very least would get him progress. "Very well. Maybe you will feel more inclined another day."

Kagome didn't miss his implication. "You mean I have to see you again?" She didn't care if it sounded rude, she'd decided she didn't like this guy.

The elderly man stood from his seat with a regretful look in his eye. "Until you tell us something of value, it will be every other day."

This earned him a very put off glare. "Exactly how long does your boss expect me to stay here?" She demanded. "I came for answers as to why the hell you people seem to care so much about me and my life and so far, I've gotten squat. So you know what? I'm not saying anything to you until I get what I came for!"

"Kagome-"

"No! Those are my terms and nothing you say will change my mind."

Myoga's eyes became genuinely sympathetic. "Kagome, in all fairness, you know nothing of how our organization works. This is not a place where you simply wave something of value in someone's face and you're given what you want on a silver platter in exchange. We are a rebellion, the only one left. There are rules. Agent Eiyuu had to have explained some of this to you already?"

Kagome had forced herself to listen to the old man's speech and been brooding so intently the ending question took her by surprise. He was right. Yasha had explained all that. Just before they'd come in fact. She'd been so caught up in everything she'd forgotten again. 'Darn it.'

Her counselor watched as the girl's nearly hostile disposition began to ebb, displeased about it as she was. Admittedly, he hadn't expected her to give in at all, but the aged man wasn't vain enough to believe it was really any of his doing.

Kagome leaned against the back of her chair, arms unfolding and falling to her sides in a subconscious form of submission. Her eyes softened ever so slightly, and she took in a deep thoughtful breath. "I don't really remember much..." She mumbled.

Myoga nodded in understanding, taking out a notepad and paper. "Just start with what you do remember. Take your time." He coaxed smoothly.

Kagome looked at the man sitting in front of her behind that metal desk of his, attention fully on her, expecting her to open her mouth and recall the horrible memories that had sent her over the edge only a short time ago. Her insides were trembling again. Could she do it? So soon? Despite herself, Kagome knew she wouldn't be able to handle the pressure if she revealed everything all at once. Putting on an act was her best chance at preserving any sanity she had left. She closed her eyes slowly to appear as if she were trying to recall something. She shook her head, expression hardening as if the memories were impossible to reach. 'Sound lost. Desperate.' She told herself. "I can't-"

"Don't force it, Kagome. Take your time. What's the first thing that comes to mind? A sound? A smell? Glimpse of a face or color? Anything is a good place to start."

Kagome took another short breath as if trying to apply his words. Now it was a matter of deciding what information to give that would cause a minimal amount of discomfort. She let her mind sit in the blankness of her thoughts for a few seconds. There were flashes and blurred images, loud sirens and heavy breathing echoing around her, the things she'd seen and experienced all rushing around her at high speed while she struggled to find just a few to briefly retell. Kagome gripped the chair subtly to keep a weakening hold on reality. She took a small breath. Though the room she was in had lighting, behind her eyelids was pitch black. She felt a dull ache on the back of her neck similar to how she'd felt upon awakening in the medical ward after being rescued. There was a bruise there, she knew the old man could see it. 'I'll start with the obvious.' She reasoned finally.

"I was-knocked out."

She heard Myoga jot something down. "Go on."

The next thing she felt was something sharp, a prick in her arm. There was a small purple-ish dot on her forearm, she knew. That was next. "They-injected me with something. I think it woke me up or-maybe it was after I'd already been awake?" Her head was starting to throb. 'Only one more and I have to stop.' She felt a tug at something around her neck as she continued to sort through her memories. She sucked in a surprised gasp. She hadn't known what had become of her adoptive father's gift until now. She knew she'd been wearing it when she was taken. If she was remembering the feeling of it being pulled off-

Without meaning to Kagome voiced her unexpected discovery, thrilled excitement causing her voice to louden even to her own ears. "My necklace! They have it!"

For some reason, this also perked the counselor's attention. "Necklace? What did it look like Kagome? Draw it for me."

Kagome stared at the paper and pen that was offered her, a distrustful sharpening of her eyes. 'I've already given them enough. The necklace was mine and it shouldn't be any of their business!' she reasoned, before another thought struck her. 'But I can't find it on my own. I wouldn't stand a chance in a gun fight, or know where to start looking besides. If it's valuable to them, they'll find it.' Shoving the sense that this could be a terrible mistake to the back of her mind, Kagome took the pen in her left hand and laid the paper on the desk with her right and drew out the pendant as she could remember it. A diamond carved into an upside-down arrow, edged with silver at its tip and holding the chain by a thick base at its top. Her last remaining treasure. Once she was done she examined the image with a tidal wave of nostalgia. Even seeing a poorly drawn sketch made her want to cry. For not the first time since she'd come here, she felt vulnerable.

The paper was quickly snatched away from her and carefully studied by the counselor, and the strange look in his eye made it seem like he was witnessing some kind of miracle. He hastily stood from his seat, and Kagome followed suit out of surprise. "Forgive me for cutting this short my dear, but I must deliver this to Boushin at once!" His voice was excited, alive.

Kagome's expression was bewildered, her eyes wide, tone urgent. "Who's Boushin? What did I do?"

Myoga stepped close to her, taking her hands in his in such a way it was almost creepy and looked her dead in the eyes. "You just may have won us the war, Kagome." And without another word, ignoring any further words from the girl herself, he was out the door and down the hall out of sight, leaving Kagome more confused than she'd already been that morning. Standing alone in that office that smelled of old man, Kagome scowled deeply at this infuriating turn of events.

"Will somebody please just tell me what the bloody heck is going ON?"