It wasn’t merely in Kagome’s head, this atmosphere of looming dread.

Fell, icy winds blew in from the west, and under the spell of this cold malignancy, strange happenings were taking place all throughout Edo. Vicious fights broke out between blood relations. Longtime friends remembered past grudges and fell into silent stalemates of resentment.  Dreams of violence haunted sleeping hours. Pots and vases splintered for no apparent reason, and roosters began to crow at dusk instead of dawn.

There were a hundred signs and more to validate Kagome’s paranoia. But knowing this—and the source of it all, for that matter—didn’t reassure her in the slightest. There was something pointed in it, something intensely personal. She ground her teeth as people came to her with their troubles. She said prayers for the sake of ceremony and promised an end to the unease that gripped her heart and theirs.

It had been more than a month now, and gods help her if she didn’t feel it down to the quick of her soul.

In this dismal state, Kagome did her best to carry out her duties unmolested. To put Sesshoumaru to the back of her mind, and not give in to his intimidation tactics—

Or the hostility they aroused.

“We’ve secured the main road, but there are other strongholds that need ferreting out, if the byways are to be made safe again,” Ren said, as he popped a chunk of meat into his mouth and chewed it with relish. “The bandits retreat like rats into the hills and fortify themselves there against us. It is nothing we cannot stamp out, of course—with enough resources to back the effort.”

“With every horde you route, you swell your ranks and stores with the spoils,” Kohaku said. The snap of his cup returning to his untouched tray echoed throughout the hall. “What more do you need?”

It was the first time he’d spoken all night. As Rin hastened to refill his cup, the samurai lifted and drank from his own.

“Begging your pardon, Kohaku-kun, but an army cannot be fattened on scraps alone. Whatever spoils we take are redistributed to us at Kagome-sama’s discretion, after she and Miroku-sama have had their due.”

Sitting aloft on the temple dais, Kagome continued to brood over her supper, while Miroku’s eyes slid shut over a slow sip of wine.

“Whatever spoils you present, you mean,” the taijiya commander shot back.

Ren smiled thinly. “Won’t you top me off as well, Rin-chan?” the samurai said smoothly, extending his cup toward her. At the young miko’s wary look, his smile deepened. “Come now, don’t be uncharitable—I have quite the thirst.”

On grudging footsteps, Rin approached him. Standing as far back as she could, she tipped the bottle toward him, while the samurai rakishly appraised her.

“What’s that peeping beneath your dress, priestess?” he mused, the girl gasping as he tugged her collar aside. “A lover’s trinket?”

Rin’s face flared red. Jerking back from him, she clapped a hand to the strand of pearls that ringed her throat. “It’s nothing like that! Sesshoumaru-sama gave this to me.”

“Your youkai guardian?” Ren smirked, holding to her still. “So much the worse.” At the sound of low laughter, the samurai’s expression curdled. “Something to add, Kohaku-kun?”

Kohaku’s eyes glinted darkly above his cup. “Only that if you’ve met Sesshoumaru-sama, and you still dared to harass her, you must really be a fool.”

“Then from one fool to another,” Ren replied just as lowly, releasing Rin abruptly from his grasp, “let us be glad Kagome-sama suffers us to live in her shadow. I balk at no demons—nor uppity brats, for that matter.”

Kohaku glared daggers at him. “Is that a challenge, rounin?”

“It is whatever you’d like it to be, boy,” Ren said, glaring back.

“Don’t think you can threaten us!” Rin said hotly to him, stepping in-between. “Sesshoumaru-sama would crush you like a bug.”

At yet another mention of him, Kagome’s nerves at last gave out. Sharply, she stood, glowering at them all.

“Ren, I’m levying a tax to finance your campaign. Kohaku, you’ll collect it in my name. Miroku, you’ll dispense the funds. Any questions?”

From her tone, this last part was clearly rhetorical. With various degrees of assent, the three men departed the hall, and Kagome rubbed at her jaw, which ached from the strain of constant clenching. Standing alone now on the tatami floor below, Rin frowned after them.

“Rin-chan,” Kagome said sternly to her, “you broke your word to me. Take that necklace off and hand it over.”

Rin’s lips trembled. “Kagome-chan, please…”

Incensed at this continued defiance, Kagome stepped down, and with a single, reiki-infused wrench, snapped the demon-forged necklace clean apart. Rin wailed as the pretty pearls spilled from her neck to the floor, bursting into glittering dust as they landed. Stricken, the young miko stepped back in despair. Casting a teary-eyed, wretched glance at her mentor, she turned upon her heel and fled the room.

In her absence, Kagome sagged, watching as the sparkling motes swirled away into nothing. At the sound of Kanako’s snickering behind her, the miko whirled.

“Shut up,” she snapped at the waif, then tensed at the look of severe disapproval lining Kaede’s withered face.

“Ye have gone too far,” the aged priestess said, rising slowly but resolutely to her feet.

Kagome’s gaze hardened. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that. Setting her jaw once more, she turned to leave herself.

“What’s done is done,” she said.

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

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