More harried militiamen followed in the messenger’s wake. Spilling into the room, they reported their own versions of these alarming sightings—not a few of their accounts clearly embellished by some combination of excitement and fear.

As Kohaku began giving out orders, Kagome hurried to the north-facing window. Squinting, she could just make out the approaching bandit horde—like black flies they’d descended upon the main road, flying at an unnerving clip toward the edge of town. Kagome’s heart pounded, adrenaline surging through her veins.

Her fingers itched to draw her bow. If these attackers were youkai, the distance wouldn’t have mattered—bolstered by the guiding force of her reiki, her arrows would’ve had no trouble finding their demonic mark. But these mortal targets were much too far away for her to land a killing blow on sheer physics alone. In this purgatory of agitation, all she could do was continue to watch their approach with bated breath.

Inevitably, the rider at the forefront caught her eye. There was something arresting about his litheness and fleetness, something about him that nagged at Kagome like a prickle in her mind. As a pinpoint of sunlight gleamed from the dark silver sliver of his blade, her eyes widened in recognition.

Turning from the window, she dashed toward the exit—managing to wrench her arm narrowly free as Kohaku attempted to restrain her through the crowd.

“Kagome,” he yelled as she slipped past him, “you stay out of this!” Then, in a brisk command to the others—”Hold her!”

The miko didn’t dare hesitate after that. Gritting her teeth, she barreled down the switchback stair, taking the steps two and three at a time. It was a miracle she didn’t send herself careening face-first to the floor. Still, even at her breakneck pace, she could hear the clank and clamor of men not far behind her. No doubt one of them would’ve managed to intercept her—if the dog wasn’t on her heels, his fearsome bulk preventing anyone from getting close enough to grab her.

Bursting out onto the ground at last, she didn’t so much as pause in her sprint. With the meager distance she’d gained, she darted quickly past a line of hanging laundry into an alleyway of sorts, and in the increasingly ramshackle weave of huts, sheds, stalls, and fences, she lost her pursuers for good.

Breathless and staggering from exertion, Kagome reached the perimeter of Edo to find the outlying regiment of the militia already assembled in wait. Perched on the roofs of shanties, the huntsmen-turned-archers were just beginning to take aim on the encroaching swarm when Kagome hailed them hoarsely to wait.

“Stop—don’t shoot!” Collapsing in half, she braced her waving hands on her knees and sucked in a ragged breath. “I know these men!”

Half-turned, the presumable leader of the regiment blinked back at her, his drawn sword lowering a little in surprise.  “…Miko-sama?”

Following his lead, the other men on the ground stilled their hands at their blade hilts, or eased their hold on their spear hafts. The archers’ grip slackened on their bows. Almost upon them now, the band of outsiders at last took on the shape of men themselves. The thunder of hooves began to dampen as they reined in their horses with curses and shouts. Through the clouds of billowing dust that surrounded them, Kagome perceived, just for a moment, the familiar, smirking face that she sought.

Still panting for air, she started forward to meet him—until an iron grip on her shoulder had her whipping back around in a start.

“Have you lost your mind?” Kohaku seethed, his dark eyes glaring daggers into hers. With a forcefulness that nearly sent her sprawling, he shoved her back toward town. “This is no place for a woman. Get out of here. Now. ”

“No!” Kagome cried, regaining her balance in a fury. “I know these men! They aren’t bandits—they’re mercenaries!”

Kohaku’s chin slashed aside in vicious denial, his katana hissing from its sheath. “Enough, Kagome—you’re speaking nonsense.”

“Their leader owes me a life debt,” she said, forcing the quaver from her voice as she looked stonily around at the militiamen. “We’re in no danger here. By the gods, I swear it.”

Uncertainly, the men glanced around at one another, torn as to whose orders to obey. But as the dust cleared at last, the leader of the band approached at an easy canter. His tawny eyes gleamed, his bloody sword sweeping downward in a flourish as he bowed low at the waist.

“Well met, Kagome-sama,” the rounin smoothly said.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi