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Dancing with the Devil

By Zeldagurl

Chapter 1

Authors note: Alrighty... I'm not sure when this idea came to me, but ever since I thought of it, I've been trying to figure out a way to make it work both culturally and historically. I've asked around and done a little research on the subject of the 442 regiment (correct me if I'm wrong) which was a Japanese regiment serving the United States. They were sent to places like Italy and France and fought some of the toughest fights, and actually came through them alive.

So, out of admiration of what this regiment went through, and inspiration from my father and his writing and interest in war, I'd like to write this fic from the point of view of a japanese spy infiltrating the 442 regiment, two japanese nurses and a doctor. Yeah, you guessed it! It's the Inu-tachi, World War II style. Sadly, Shippou and Kirara might not make the fic, but, if I'm able to fit them in, I will.

Having gotten past my inu initiation fanfic (Cast in Stone), I want to take a break from the long chain of one-shots I've been writing and try again to make a good inu fanfiction, worthy of reading. Thanks so much to the fans and readers of my past fanfics, without their advice and encouragment, I wouldn't be writing.

I don't want to beg you for reviews (although I do love them) because, I believe that it's up to you whether you tell me your opinion or not, whether it's good or bad. Just try to tell me if I'm doing a good job once in a while, believe me, it helps!

This will be a detailed fiction, serious, dark, negative, slow maybe even hard to digest at times (ach! My stomach!), but I hope you stick with me, like a lot of you have always done. Thank you...

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any of the other characters belonging to Rumiko Takahashi, I simply like doing funny things to them.


The nurse worked quickly, surrounded by her fellow nurses and a doctor. She shook as she moved, but she didn't let that bother her as she coughed quietly. It was just from lack of sleep, she told herself, she wasn't afraid. Thats what she convinced herself to believe.

At least she was more useful here than in that internment camp... She couldn't sleep there either anyway... There was always someone crying, or screaming; always that uncertain feeling that she could be yelled at, or beaten because she was a Japanese girl loyal to the United States. Because she was a Japanese girl, imprisoned in a camp for a reason she couldn't quite understand.

She shook her head, reminding herself to concentrate on her task at hand. She wiped the man's forehead gently. He was trying to talk, but failing miserably. In an effort to calm her patient down ,she placed a shaky finger to her mouth to shush him.

"Save your strength..." She smiled thinly, hoping her tired anxiousness wouldn't show through.

Blood was splotched all over her uniform, she tried not to let the smell get to her. It was putrid; the stench of wounded and dying men that she had to wake up to every morning and go to sleep breathing every night. But that wasn't important now... Nothing was as important as saving this man's life.

Sweat rolled down the sides of her face as she tried to supress the bleeding of the man who lay on the table in front of her. As in everything she did, this nurse was determined. She would not let him die. Right now, her and her counterparts held his life in their hands; She wouldn't let him slip through her fingers, not like all the others.

"Sango, I need some water and some bandages; tell Satsuki to get some painkiller over here! Stat!" She barked at her friend. The said woman nodded and at once took off running towards the medical supply store room. Her thoughts willed the woman to run faster, hoping she would be back before the man died. He was losing way too much blood; she needed to supress the blood flow to the outside of his body. It wasn't looking good...

'No!' She thought, shaking her head in stubborness, she couldn't think like that!

'I won't let him die! I can't!'

She looked down at the solider, meeting his eyes with hers, trying to encourage him in any way possible not to give up. He gasped for breath, his eyes seemed hardly able to focus on any one thing. But still, the look in his eyes found hers and quietly disturbed her with the degree of urgency it portrayed.

"Sir! Calm down, we can save you! Just hold on!" She pleaded with him, holding an iron grip on her emotions. She looked at the doctor, who was busy trying to remove the bullet in his stomach. She wished Sango would hurry up with those supplies...

The man let out the most teribble noise; it was as if he was trying as hard as he could to breathe, but he couldn't get the air into his lungs. It was like a shriek of an unearthly creature, and not the gasp of a dying solider. He was immobilized by fear, and the nurse stood beside him, mopping his forehead with a wet rag. She felt so helpless, in the face of this agony.

"Kagome!" She whipped her head around to see Sango, leading Satsuki who was cradling an injector full or morphine, ready to be used.

"C'mon! We're losing him!" She yelped, immidiately turning back to the man, surprised to find that the man's gasping gutteral noises had somewhat quieted. She looked in his eyes, crying out when she saw the light fading n his eyes. The telltale sign that he was dying right before her eyes.

"NO! STAY WITH US!" She cried out, tears finally falling as she lost control of all the restraint, and all of her emotions that she had pushed away, inside. She coughed violently, covering her mouth as her lungs shook with pain at the heightened state of panic her being was in.

But his body had already become limp, and his eyes, his life was leaving him...

Kagome could only stand there and watch him die, the same way that she had sworn she wouldn't let him do., breathing heavily from her slow recovery from her cough.

Why was this happening? Why was he dying despite her efforts? She was trying so hard... Why couldn't she just keep him alive?

"No...! No...!" She whimpered, letting her hands fall limply to her sides.

"There's nothing more we can do ladies..." The doctor said from somewhere beside her... Kagome coudn't tell. She was feeling numb again, she felt numb and shocked everytime a solider died in front of her or anywhere near her.

His last breath escaped his lips in a whisper and all signs of life ceased. Doctor Miroku grabbed a sheet from a pile laying on the table beside him. He then threw the sheet over the now dead body of the solider and lifted his clipboard, still panting from the exertion of trying for all he was worth to save the man.

"Name: Takeo Mitsuki..." He turned to Sango, ignoring the little gasp that both her and Kagome had just made amidst the latter's rasping breaths.

"Let the coroner know his name as soon as possible, then all of you, make your rounds." He laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"Be strong..." He smiled sadly as she turned stoic brown eyes on him. He squeezed her shoulder once before leaving to record the death and grab himself a cup of coffee to calm his own nerves. Satsuki followed with the shot of morphine still ready in her hands.

Sango sidled up to Kagome, grabbing her hand gently and looking down at the body.

"It's our Takeo isn't it? From school..."

"Yeah... the class clown." Kagome sniffled and used her other hand to wipe the tears from her eyes childishly.

"I never imagined that I would watch him die." She couldn't start bawling now, she had work to do. She couldn't be weak, she had to be strong. There were other men that needed her help, or else, they might all die too.

As Sango led her away, she glanced back at her former classmate... Once he had teased her about her pigtails, smiled at her from across the classroom, even though he was supposed to be in trouble He ran to get Sango when her period came with a roaring vengence of cramps and she was in pain. He had been worried about her, despite his reputation.

They had been good friends.

And now he was dead...

He had died without a soul to comfort him, alone and afraid on a metal table somewhere in Italy. And now he would be sent home in a bodybag to the people who loved him... Except, home didn't exist anymore anyway... Not in the literal sense, not in the emotional sense...

No matter how many men died, no matter how different they were in life, and how loved and cherished they had been; It seemed that, in war, they all died the same way... Slain for a country, that, in their case, had imprisoned them and treated them like they were dirt. Even though they were loyal, and they fought for the same reason that the white-americans fought. They weren't so different... Yet, they had been shut away for lack of trust on their home countries part.

Were they so different that they couldn't be trusted, even though they were abused by their own country-men for siding with the enemy.

Were they so different?


He shifted uneasily in his seat, drumming his fingers impatiently on his knees. The ship would soon dock, and he would soon begin his mission.

His objective was simple, to find out the plans of the japanese units in the United States army and to upset anything that might help the enemy to win the war. Because of his looks, and carefully calculated moves, he was successfully able to volunteer to join the four hundred and fourty second regiment. He had been planted into a japanese family that was loyal to the japanese empire, taking the place of their son who had been sent elsewhere. The operation had taken place just before the bombing of the American port of Pearl Harbor.

He had then been sent to an internment camp, like all of the other Japanese people, and had volunteered to join the army with a motive to drive him as far as he had gone.

But, this wasn't important to him; not beyond the sense of duty instilled in him by his superiors and peers. He didn't care about the war, he didn't feel a sense of national pride in his country. He didn't care about anything Japan had offered him. This job was only something to do, something to pass the time. He had lost the will to aspire long ago, and so, drifted through life from one military mission to another.

After his mother had died before his very eyes, he kind of lost the will to try and live on. He just lived... He didn't take any pleasure in anything he did. He thought that, at least he was doing something worthwhile with a meaningless existence.

If he was required to decieve, steal, lie, betray; it didn't matter, he would do it. And he wouldn't falter and fall with emotions like his fellow infiltrators and spies. He WAS emotionless, so he didn't have to think about what was right and wrong. That was how he had been trained, how he had lived since his mother had died. It seemed the perfect persona for a person who lied to and betrayed people for a living.

That was why, his superiors had picked him over all of the other possible agents. And that was why he was on such a mission now.

"So you think we'll actually see some action?" The solider next to him nudged him excitedly, earning a glare from the spy. He sobered himself up of his excitement, noticing that the man beside him hardly shared his enthusiasm nor his cheerful anxiousness.

"Of course we will." With a last glare at the solider beside him, the spy settled deeper into his seat, setting his mouth in a tight line. He really didn't want to talk, he wasn't required to socialize,except to further the mission, so he meant not to...

But he figured that the guy next to him wouldn't leave him alone anyway, so he might as well at least try. It wasn't like he didn't know how...

"It's war after all." He reminded the overexcited solider beside him.

"Yeah,I guess I shouldn't be so excited. Seeing as we were all put into those camps and all..." He shifted and gripped his gun tighter with a wary smile on his face.

"But... This is the chance for me to show that I'm a man to my family, to fight like my fathers have." The spy scoffed inwardly at the idea. He couldn't even remember what his father or grandfather looked like, he hadn't ever known them. He would never be willing to fight, just because they had. They had probably stepped on other people and cheated for their positions of high power if they were anything like his brother. They wouldn't have gotten their hands so dirty as to fight with honor.

He would never give them the satisfaction of fighting to be just like them...

"Good luck with that." He said moodily, eyeing his surroundings, and the observing the tense contemplation that his fellow soliders were struggling with. Great... one hundred volunteer soliders, and he got stuck with the talkative one...

"So what's your name? Mine's Hojo." He chirped to the spy, who sighed and blearily wished that the boy would just shut up.

"Inuyasha. The name's Inuyasha." It was as close to the truth as he could dally. He couldn't give his full name away, his superiors had warned him heavily about that. But he could at least tell the truth to an extent, if that was all he could say, No point in lying uselessly.

The boy, Hojo, stuck out a gloved hand with an honest smile,

"Nice to meet you Inuyasha!" The spy awkwardly took his hand and shook it, pulling back as far as he could after the handshake was done and over with. He had never been good with physical contact. He hated it whenever he had to touch another person. Maybe it was just another part of his withdrawal into himself after his mother had died.

"Good luck on the field." Hojo said brightly over the call of the seargent in charge of them, saying that they would soon be landing into their first battle in Italy. Inuyasha felt a nervous trill in his stomach as adrenaline began pumping as fast as his heart. This was his first time in battle, no matter that he was the best at fighting in the legion of men he was trained with.

In war, he had heard, it didn't matter how good you were at what. In the end, it was 'kill or be killed'. He was good at one-on-one, and maybe even two-on-one, but he had never faced an entire army before. He imagined that if you took a second to think about your actions, that you were immidiately killed.

He wasn't scared, not even nervous. That's what he told himself until the commanding officer shouted that they were almost upon the drop off point. He ignored the fast beating of his heart and his heightened breathing.

The tension in the air built itself considerably as each solider concentrated on the rough landing ahead. The commanding officer had said that they were in for a rough landing, since this was a new route, efficiently cutting the American forces traveling time in half. But it was dangerous, considering the shores were controlled by the enemy.

They all had to make it out of the rafts and onto the shore, giving their ship time to escape enemy bombs. They would have to fight like hell to survive and join the other part of their group.

They all piled into their assigned rafts, Inuyasha ending up next to Hojo again, to his momentary displeasure. It really didn't matter, the spy just hoped that the boy wouldn't distract him while he was fighting in the battle. The boy would have to fend for himself...

The door to the outside opened to reveal a bland smoky sky, emboldened by an angry sea.

Each raft would be pushed off consequtively after the other, until finally the ship retreated, leaving the men in the rafts to fend for themselves. They were supposed to stay in the rafts until they got close enough to the shore to walk or swim the rest of the way with their heavy equipment.

Inuyasha felt himself feeling the anxious terror coursing through his veins, even though he wasn't even on this damn side of the war. There was still a chance that he could be killed, no matter his mission. And then what would he have ammounted to?

He shook his head and settled himself forcefully, pushing himself onto the task at hand, ignoring his pounding heart.

The raft's were pushed out at the commanding officer's order; and with a loud splash, Inuyasha found himself at the forefront of the battle.


"Agent Takashi, we do not expect you to come back alive." Commander Sesshoumaru turned from the window to look directly into Inuyasha's eyes.

Inuyasha couldn' t help but notice the lack of emotion in his superior's eyes. The commander had never been known to show much love or worry for his soliders, not even if they were his own kin...

"Your mission is solely to inspire your fellow nisei to rise up against the white devil's commanding them and do as much damage as you can."

Inuyasha didn't move, he didn't flinch; even being told that he was expected to die didn't bother him much. He didn't have anything to live for anyway... Nothing to come back to here in Japan, except a nearly empty house and a rock garden. He wasn't supposed to care about anything, so he had been trying not to.

"You have your mission, now you may go and prepare. Dismissed." The commander sat down at his desk and began to shuffle through papers piled off to the side. Inuyasha stood up to leave, not making any eye contact with his... superior.

"Little brother?" Inuyasha turned sharply at the name and glanced at his half-brother, who once again looked up from his desk.

"Instead of wasting your life trying to come back, Make your death's ending worth our while." He sneered slightly and then went back to his papers, signaling to Inuyasha that he was done.

Inuyasha turned once again and walked stiffly out of Sesshoumaru's office, keeping his eyes straight ahead of him. He was just told that he was expected to die... That they wanted him to die

He felt nothing, He could feel nothing... Nothing at all... He chanted in his mind quietly, pushing away any emotion his heart was dragging up from the dirt where he had buried it...

He felt nothing...

(End flashback)

They had made it to the land now, struggling ashore with all of their equipment, not to mention their wet clothes. All the while dodging bullets and watching for mines planted in the ground beneath them.

Inuyasha panted as he trotted forward, bent slightly to make himself seem a smaller target. Hojo followed him closely, apparently deciding that his best bet was with the man he knew best in the group. Inuyasha didn't mind as much as he thought he would. Hojo covered him as he moved from rock to rock, while he covered hojo as the boy followed him. It was safer than being alone...

Although the boy, after this, would probably think they were friends or something... Oh great...

He concentrated instead on his objective, reaching the rocks where the enemy was shooting from. As soon as they cleared the beach of the minimal enemy force, they could join the men waiting for them just beyond the beach. Then they could join the main force, and he could get on with his job.

His adrenaline pumped his body for each quick movement, watching out of the corner of his eye as he moved for his fellow soliders and the weapons aiming for them. This was part of his plan... He covered for them, taking down their enemies for them so that they would trust him. So that when he told them his intentions, they would trust him more than the American pigs they were fighting for.

He looked back at Hojo, frowning because the boy had stopped. He checked back with their enemies and made sure none of them were directly aiming for him, making a mad dash back to where the boy had stopped.

"Hojo! What the hell is wrong with you?" He shouted over the noise of guns going off and cannons firing over his head. When the boy didn't answer but with a grunt, falling to his knees. Inuyasha knelt down beside him, seeing a small dark red stain moving slowly down the boys torso.

"Shit!" He swore, immidiately looking around for help. He knew he couldn't leave the boy behind... The boy needed help, or else he would die. Inuyasha knew he couldn't let that happen. Maybe the boy was annoying, maybe he wasn't yet on the japanese side; but he was still wounded, and right next to the spy at the moment. And that seemed enough for Inuyasha...

"Don't..." Hojo grunted in pain, looking up at Inuyasha with a labored glaze that Inuyasha was sure wasn't good news, in his eyes. He seemed unable to breathe right, coughing violently

"Just leave me..." He gasped as he looked up; surprising the spy with sight of blood trickling out of his mouth. Inuyasha looked back once more to see if anyone was coming to help.

Guess not...

"No way kid." Inuyasha growled, hoisting the wounded boy to his feet, using himself as support so that they could both walk in the direction that their companions had gathered. The rest of the troop had noticed the straggler, like Inuyasha and Hojo, and they provided cover fire for them, allowing them a little more safety while they struggled towards the group.

He REALLY hoped that he didn't get shot because of this. Then he wouldn't be able to acomplish anything but to end the mission, and he knew the military of Japan would not be happy... It would be a lot easier if he didn't have to dodge bullets every other second. But then, he was in war. Your enemy didn't wait for you to toddle over to join your main force, they took their chances and shot.

As far as Inuyasha could tell, they were sure as hell taking their chances.

"Almost there." Inuyasha grunted as the sweat rolled down his face, straining to go as fast as he could go with the boy, who was quiet except for his moans of pain. Two other soliders jogged towards them, intending to help.

Suddenly, the spy felt a blinding pain, coming from his leg. Ripping through it with the force that could only be a bullet. He fell to his knees, screaming in pain as both he and Hojo fell to the sand. This was it... What he feared; What he had taught himself not to fear. It was happening right before his very eyes.

"Hold on!" One of the soliders shouted, pciking up speed and deciding to give up watching for mines.

Inuyasha gripped the sand with a hard ferocity, groaning as he became accurately aware of his surroundings.

He could make it... If he just tried hard enough, he could do it... He could survive.

Ten feet in front of him, lay a mine. It was hidden well, with only part of it showing from beneath the sand.

He looked up, realizing that the solider coming his way was about to step on it. The solider had no idea, with his eyes focused on the two wounded men.

"Shit! Stop!" He screamed, before throwing himself and Hojo as far away as he could from the mine, turning himself away from it and crawling with panic as far as he could get before the solider stepped on it, realizing too late what he had set off.

It was silent for a second, before an explosion ripped through the solider and engulfed Inuyasha and Hojo, Throwing them roughly twenty feet away. Suddenly, the only possible comprehension Inuyasha could make in his mind was basted with pain ripping through it. It was the most incredibly mind-blowing agony that he felt, laying there suddenly burned on the beach.

His violet eyes bored into the gray sky, losing focus as the pain engulfed his senses.

The only thing Inuyasha thought, as he blacked out, losing conscieosness from the pain; was about his mother, seeing her face as he lost his grip into an unconscous void. Her face as she had smiled at him, all of the days she had been with him.

'I'm coming mom...'


Authors note: I know! I know! I'm terrible, leaving you on a cliffie in the first chapter! I should be starved of chocolate for a year! (Not that I'm suggesting you try to withhold my chocolate!).

Whew! This is probably the longest chapter I've written, probably the best too! It took me a week to write this, coupling with doing research and modifying my characters. If my chapters keep being so long, my beta (Starting chapter 2 of this story and the gardener) will try to kill me for sure...!

Oh well...

But! This authoress has done her research! I looked up a bunch of stuff on the internment camps and took out a few books to scour for more info on the 442nd regiment and the internment camps. Although I still have yet to look at army tactics and policies... I figured this is good enough for the first chapter. If anyone has any info to contribute, I'd be glad to include it in my research and use it to better my accuracy in this story.

I hope you like it, and find it a worthwhile read for a first chapter. While it may be shorter than most chapter stories, it will definently include longer chapters like this. Believe me, I know how much short chapters can annoy people. But I also ask that you give me time to do as much as I can with each chapter... With school back on, I might have less time than usual. But that probably won't matter, since I have no life other than my band, school, and writing... (sigh)


"Every drop of flame light's a candle in the memory of the one who lived inside my skin!"

-Audioslave, Shadow on the sun