She was assisting Miroku with the consecration of the new temple when the visitor approached. A traveling priest. More and more were trickling into Edo again, as word spread that the Shikon Miko’s mourning had ended.

Kagome scowled to herself. As though she would ever stop lamenting the loss of her husband. Glancing sidelong at Miroku, she had a good idea of just who had decided her mourning was officially over, with all the added revenue her fame could bring. Her friend was looking downright resplendent these days in his robes of dark lustrous silk. The solid gold chimes of his shakujou gleamed richly in the temple light.

Deeply, the visitor bowed to them both. “Houshi-sama. Miko-sama.”

“Welcome, brother,” Miroku said graciously, inclining his head in turn. “What brings you to Edo?”

“Pilgrimage,” the priest answered. His gaze lingered on Kagome in veiled wonder. “I seek wisdom—and bring tidings as well.”

Amiably, Miroku smiled. His own gaze lingered on the coin purse at the man’s hip. “Indeed—we are honored to receive you. Let us withdraw to the inner court.”

Once the tea was poured and the offering collected, the usual discourse ensued. Most of the man’s mysticism was directed at Kagome, who humored him just long enough for Miroku to smoothly pick up the thread of conversation and nip it before it grew too long for the price. He knew Kagome frowned upon such swindling, though a part of her was glad to be useful to him. It was by stringing together these small acts of usefulness, after all, that she continued to justify placing one foot in front of the other.

Still, being ogled and figuratively probed had grown tiresome to her long ago. She found her mind wandering even as she spoke. Her ears barely registered the priest’s replies as more than background noise, until a certain phrase jolted her back to the present.

“…bloodied and torn, as if by some beast…”

“What?” she snapped, drawing Miroku and the priest both short. As her friend’s brow furrowed and the visitor continued to gape, she briskly rephrased, “What did you say just now?”

“I said that a girl was found dead,” the monk answered, seeming to shrink under the force of Kagome’s blazing stare. “Not long ago. Her body was dredged up from a river and brought to our temple.”

Abruptly, Kagome stood. “A river—and she was torn, you said. As if by a beast.”

“Yes, Kagome-sama,” the traveler replied. His unease deepened as she began to pace. “Only…”

“She was defiled,” Kagome concluded shortly, drawing to a halt before him.

The priest’s face was bloodless, his voice little more than a whispered breath. “…Most brutally.”

Absently, Kagome nodded. At her sides, her fingers clenched and unclenched. In her ears, her heart pounded like a funeral drum.

Pivoting on her heel, she departed the room as Miroku called after her in vain. But she only fled faster. Clawing at her heels, the specter of the past pursued her as she hastened across the courtyard, through the torii arch of the temple, and out into the surrounding fields.

Tears streamed from her eyes, lodged in her throat. Her chest was afire. Her lungs seared so violently she could scarcely breathe. Only when the darkness of the forest broke the blurred line of her vision did she slam to a stop. Doubling over, she sobbed into the earth that had born her, buried her fingers into the grass roots and the dirt.

In anguish she glared up at the shadows of the wilderness. The darkness swelled back at her, mocking and proud, and her reiki burst from her in vain to lift it. But fear had frozen her in time. Stuck in the moment of Inuyasha’s death, she could go no further—

Until she felt it, a glimmer of youki.

Her breath caught as her legs propelled her forward, across the boundaries of civilization she hadn’t dared to cross since on her own. He was coolly radiant against that wild, twisting darkness, a beacon in the chaos that eclipsed her. Stumbling forward, she seized his arms for purchase.

“Sesshoumaru!” she gasped. A terrible ecstasy transcended her. “Sesshoumaru, I’ve remembered!”

Warily, he regarded her. “Have you?”

“You were right,” she barreled on, heedless of his reticence, almost manic in her fervor. “How could I have been so blind? My destiny—it’s been right in front of me all this time!”

His eyes were wide as a man’s as he gripped her back. “Kagome—”

Her reiki stirred. The chafe of his claws galvanized her. His expression was rapt as he drew her in. She gazed up at him in equal captivation.

“That monster who caused Inuyasha to die,” she said, her voice trembling with irrepressible zeal. “I have to put an end to him.”

Sesshoumaru’s features darkened as he bit out, “What?”

Kagome frowned up at him before dismissing this reaction as his customary overbearance. “He’s still out there, Sesshoumaru, that disgusting beast. Still raping and killing defenseless girls. There was another attack just recently, I was told—and who knows how many more there have been since Inuyasha and I stopped hunting for him.”

Seized by a profound restlessness, she gave her head a terse shake, breaking swiftly from Sesshoumaru’s grasp, though he was hardly restraining her. Eyes narrowed upon the forest floor, she stalked back and forth through the detritus in a measured circuit.

“He’s a powerful demon, of course.” Pausing briefly, she glanced up at her brother-in-law as if anticipating a confrontation on this front, yet he remained stonily silent. “I know I’m no match for him now—but I’ll train. I’ll get strong again, stronger than I ever was before. Inuyasha is gone, so it’s all on me to see this through. I have to avenge him. I have to stop this rampaging demon, and then—”

Breathless, Kagome turned to Sesshoumaru. Though he stood just before her, though only a moment ago he had been holding her to him, he had never seemed more remote to her than he did now. The cold hostility in his demonic aura chilled her through to the soul.

“You have already avenged Inuyasha,” he said, “by purifying the dragon who slew him.”

“Even if you say so, what about the others?” Kagome demanded, recovering from the shock of his inhumanity. “What about all the girls who’ve been murdered?”

Sesshoumaru’s pupils were slitted, his words an icy lash. “What are they to you? A few choice corpses among the countless dead. All mortals die—that is their fate. Are you the one to reverse this?”

“No,” Kagome whispered. Stricken, she looked up at him. “That was you.”

Sesshoumaru’s jaw clenched as his glance slid away. When his eyes returned to her, she felt near to him once more. Near enough to reach out and touch him, but she did not.

“Forget this baseless vengeance,” he said, stepping by to lead her home. “Lay the past to rest and look to the future.”

In despair, Kagome looked after him, knowing she could not.

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

Revised 8/18/23

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