Kagome stiffened. With effort, she kept her tone light as she replied, “Just checking in.”

Kohaku’s flinty eyes pierced hers a moment longer. “Checking in,” he repeated, as if weighing the veracity of each word, before his gaze cut past her toward the stair. “Who’s your friend?”

Kagome glanced behind her. Near the edge of the landing, the wild dog sat, upright and still on his haunches. Even sitting like this, the points of his ears rose to well past her hip—a beast of a creature, even without the feral stare and shaggy wolfishness of his appearance. As he regarded Kohaku, the dog’s posture was one of watchfulness, readiness.

“I fed him, and now he follows me around,” Kagome answered, turning back.

A humorless half-smile curved Kohaku’s lips. “That’s all it takes, I suppose.”

With a flick of his wrist, his half-eaten drumstick sailed past her—the dog snapping it straight from midair. In a matter of seconds, he’d stripped it clean of all the meat, skin and gristle, and settling down onto his belly, he busied himself with gnawing at the bone. Kagome’s mouth twisted grimly at the grinding and gnashing of his fangs. Her eyes strayed back to Kohaku’s.

“Rin-chan is distressed,” she began, folding her arms into her sleeves. “The bandit attacks outside Edo have escalated, and the injury toll keeps rising. To make the roads safe for travelers again, these bandits need to be cleared out as soon as possible.”

The scroll in Kohaku’s fist furled shut with a snap. “Rin-chan feels this way, does she? She hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

Kagome scowled. She wanted to retort that Rin was too flustered around him these days to do more than flush and nod her head. But Kagome was loath to betray her young friend’s confidence—especially since it seemed like Kohaku was either totally oblivious to or totally dismissive of Rin’s feelings toward him.

“Makes me think that all this ‘clearing out the bandits’ talk is your notion,” he quipped.

Thus goaded, what the miko said instead was— “Yes, though I can assure you, she’s of the same mind as I am.”

“I’ll bet she is,” Kohaku said, his gaze narrowing as he lowered his voice. “So, what—you want me to waste the militia’s time and resources chasing off bandits in order to protect those who aren’t even residents here? Explain to me how that makes sense.”

Kagome glared. “Maybe it shouldn’t be a ‘militia,’ then.” Raking her eyes scathingly over the dark mesh of taijiya attire still visible beneath the chest of his haori, she bit out, “Maybe I’m not the only one who envisions a different path for the armed force you’ve been mustering here.”

“Ah.” Kohaku smiled sharply, chucking the scroll onto the table where it scattered the others in a flutter. “Now we’re striking closer to the heart of the matter. You go around, healing the sick and collecting strays”—his eyes slid back toward the stair for emphasis—”but I think we both know that’s not where your real passion lies.”

“You’re forgetting yourself, kid,” Kagome shot back with enough vehemence to cow a lesser man, though Kohaku merely frowned. “I am the high priestess of this place, and if I say it’s in the best interest of the people to see to these bandits, then you should respect that.”

Kohaku’s expression darkened, and now there was no mistaking the derision in his tone. “You may see yourself as the ‘spiritual authority’ of this place, but I have Ani-ue’s backing on this matter—and others beside him. Maintaining order in Edo and defending the township are the militia’s top priorities. To that end, I recruit, train, and command as I see fit.”

Kagome forced her features to remain calm and composed, though inside she was seething. Of course Miroku would be most concerned about protecting his precious temple and its coffers. And as for these ‘others’—well, Kagome could guess what kind of stubborn cowards they were.

“So, you think you can cut me out, is that it?” she snapped, incensed. The corners of her mouth pulled upward in pure chagrin. “I never realized you were this petty, Kohaku-kun.”

And now he was striding toward her, closing the distance between them so swiftly and intently that Kagome fought the urge to retreat a step. Still, she couldn’t help but flinch when he thrust his face into hers, his coal-dark eyes smoldering in their resentment.

“You were the one who cut me out—remember that.”

Kagome’s lips thinned. This again… Steeling herself, she prepared to counter—when the pounding of heavy bootsteps up the staircase drew her short. As one, she and Kohaku looked to the landing, where one of his men—an aged samurai transplant—leaned against the wall gasping for breath.

“Kohaku-dono…on the north road just now…a large band of brigands was spotted—headed straight for town…”

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi