After Kanako left Kagome lingered on, resting her hip against the rough granite face of the lantern. It was a slim reassurance, seeing to Rin’s needs now. Too little too late, in Kagome’s bleak estimation. Still better than nothing, she reasoned.

In vain, her gaze strayed off toward the distant graveyard. She could almost make out Inuyasha’s marker from here—its outline as blurred and faint as she felt.

But this was only the midpoint of her harrowing journey. Picking herself up at long last, she trudged on with Ikiryou trailing silently after.

Beyond the shimmer of the city gates, the outpost loomed like a dark mirage.

As she drew near, there was a general commotion which made Kagome forget her own inner turmoil for the moment—armored men scrambling about, carts being loaded and crates being shut, camps and lean-tos going down and fires going out. Lieutenants barked orders which servants and sentries hastened to fulfill. There was such a bustling confusion of activity that Kagome’s presence was scarcely noted, as she strode past it all with a determined frown.

Her brisk pace startled an already skittish flock of chickens into a noisy, fluttering retreat. Glancing up at her, Ikiryou whined.

“Go on,” she said, and he took off after them with a gruff bark of glee.

Clearly he didn’t feel the need to stick by her side in this place. Approaching the threshold of the highest watchtower, Kagome swallowed against the thick glut of her own reservations, and hoped that his instincts were right.

The room at the top of the stairs was in a similar state of upheaval. As the miko entered, a couple of maids scurried toward her with a rolled-up tatami mat shouldered between them. Stepping aside for them to pass, she stood near the back of the room, stern and waiting.

“I’m leaving Edo,” Kohaku said to her as he turned, clothed and armed like a taijiya once more. Curved against his back, the wicked blade of his kusarigama flashed her a steely half-smile. “I’ve decided to return to my home village, with those who wish to help me rebuild it.”

“Good,” Kagome replied, “the sooner the better.” Hurt and angry as she was, the cool evenness of her tone surprised her. “There’s no place for you here, after what you’ve done to Rin.”

No place for you anywhere, Kagome added grimly to herself, if Seshoumaru ever catches wind of it.

Kohaku’s dark gaze flickered. A faint line formed between his brows, before his entire expression smoothed over like stone.

“So she told you, then.”

“She didn’t have to,” Kagome said. As he glanced away with a frown, her voice began to shake. “You can’t even look at me, can you? Oh, Kohaku-kun, how could you…”

“How could I?” he said, rounding upon her. “Did she tell you how she came to me? How she stole into my room in the middle of the night, how she shucked off her robes and propositioned me like a common whore—”

“Stop it, Kohaku—she’s only a child, and you know it!”

“A child,” he said wrathfully as he advanced. “You love to throw that word around as it suits you. Was I a ‘child’ to you when you came to me? No, it was only after. It is always after with you.” Kagome’s jaw locked tight with pain and regret. Coldly, scornfully, Kohaku smiled down at her. “You’ve taught Rin well, haven’t you? She truly is your disciple.”

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi