In the days that followed, Kagome considered what additional measures still needed to be taken to ensure the safety of the people in her charge. Rin’s near-flight from Edo had given her cause for alarm. No matter how fortified the village was, all these defenses amounted to nothing the moment a person stepped one foot outside that circle of protection.

This concern in mind, she called an assembly of Edo’s five elders to propose a solution to the problem.

“Ye would forbid women and children from leaving the village?” Kaede surmised with a frown.

“I think it’s for the best,” Kagome replied, taking a sip of her tea. “There’s no real reason for them to venture outside the boundaries of the village—they have everything they need right here.”

“But there are particular roots and herbs the women gather from yon woods.”

“Men can gather roots just as easily as women,” Kagome countered evenly. “As for the herbs, we’ll provide them. It’s safer for us to prepare the remedies the villagers need, anyway.”

Kaede fell silent at this, though her frown remained in place.

“I understand the men may need to put forth a little extra effort,” Kagome continued on in her most diplomatic tone. “And of course the children won’t be able to run as wild as they’re used to—nor the women, for that matter,” she added, flashing a disarming smile as her insinuation was not lost on the gathered elders. “But I’m sure we can all agree these things are a small price to pay for added security and peace of mind.”

One thing that could generally be counted upon, Kagome had learned, was the prudishness of old people. It was a bit low of her to pander to these stuffy and often hypocritical sentiments, but these were dangerous times. The stakes were simply too high to worry over these little moral scruples.

Another thing that could always be counted upon was the motivating power of fear. This was the uniting factor, the underlying drive, that Kagome and her elders shared. This was the real reason why they would acquiesce to her line of thinking. The sugaring of self-righteousness she’d sprinkled on top would simply make her appeal more palatable for them to readily accept.

“A small price to be sure,” elder Haruko concurred at once, her permanent scowl of disapproval etching that much deeper into her wrinkled jowls.

“There be more dangers on the roads and in the wilds than rogues and demons,” elder Arata said, inclining his wispy-haired head in a sage nod of agreement.

“‘Tis true that the young ones and womenfolk oft behave too liberally—we must needs protect them from their weak natures.”

“Ye speak wisely indeed, Kagome-sama. I, too, am in favor of what ye say.”

“Thank you for your support,” Kagome said, bowing deeply.

While this decree would certainly help prevent people from straying into harm’s way, it was far from foolproof. She knew that there would still be a few rebellious villagers who’d defy it. As she parted ways with the elders, Kagome’s thoughts ran ahead, envisioning a high timbered fence not unlike the one guarding Tatsumi castle—only without any gaps for silly young girls to slip through in the night…

“Kagome, child.”

Pausing, she glanced back to find that Kaede had followed her out of elder Arata’s home. An expression of pointed concern creased the aged miko’s features.

“This notion ye’ve put forth—it strikes me as sudden and severe.”

Kagome’s lips crooked in a conciliating half-smile. “I know it may seem that way, Baa-chan. But I think a mandate like this is long overdue—and mild really, if you consider the alternative.”

Turning, she began to walk away, Kaede’s voice trailing after her in stern reproach.

“It would not be amiss, methinks, to seek the gods’ guidance in this.”

Hesitating half a step, the younger miko continued on her way to the shrine—not to pray for guidance, as Kaede had instructed, but to pay her daily respects to her departed husband.

Kagome had met enough gods—aided enough gods—to know that their counsel was no better than her own best judgment. The fallibility of her brother-in-law, who was godlike enough in her estimation, only reinforced this theory. She could ask for strength, for supernatural favors even, but in navigating the dark shifting landscape of this reality, the hard truth of the matter was—

The gods were as lost as the rest of them.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi