With creeping slowness, dawn approached, tipping fingers of pinkish link over the horizon. Raw-eyed and despairing, Kagome picked herself up from the moss and wandered from the cave.

She felt like the worst sort of fool. After all was said and done, she’d been duped by him just like all the rest. She didn’t delude herself into thinking that ‘something had come up’—no, she had pride enough to call this what it was: a classic ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ scenario. He’d gotten what he wanted from her, and then he’d dropped her like a bad habit.

As lowdown and dirty as it was, Kagome couldn’t help but blame herself. She should have known better. But like the naive little virgin she was, she’d thought herself above it all. She’d thought that she was special.

Wretchedly, the miko shook her head. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get played like this. Yuka and Eri would never let her hear the end of it. Not that Kagome intended on breathing a word of this to her friends back home—or to anyone for that matter.

Smothering the humiliated sob that was building in her chest, Kagome made her way to the stream nearby. Yet the gods didn’t seem inclined to show her the slightest compassion, because as she was splashing water onto her splotched red face, a familiar figure appeared through the trees.

Stiffly, Kagome straightened from her slouch. “Ah, Obasan.”

On the opposite side of the stream, the portly laundress started in surprise. Jostling the empty buckets in her arms, she squinted at Kagome in thought. Of course, it had been some months since the miko and her friends had stayed at the local inn, yet after a moment, the woman’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Ah,” she exclaimed, “the Ojou-san with the love troubles!”

Kagome suppressed a grimace. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Will you be staying with us again?”

“No,” the miko said, mustering a queasy smile. “Just passing through.”

“I see…” Setting the buckets down on the shore, the woman peered at her again, more keenly. “I take it you’ve thrown him over, that trifling man of yours?”

Kagome tensed. “Er…yeah. Yeah, I have.”

“Good, good.” The matron nodded, grinning broadly in approval. “And…have you met someone else?”

The miko paled. It was a bit of a loaded question—for all their rendezvous, she’d never once seen his face. She’d slept with the guy, and she didn’t even know his name. A fresh wave of mortification swept through her. Kagome swallowed dryly past the lump in her throat.

“…You could say that,” she managed at last, hoping this line of conversation would be over.

But the sharp-nosed Obasan scented her unease like a piranha on a blood trail. “Why the long face, then?”

“Oh, well…” The miko cringed as the world’s lamest explanation tumbled from her lips. “…It’s complicated.”

Giving her another shrewd once-over, the woman mercifully crouched and began to fill her buckets in the stream. “These things have a way of sorting themselves, dear,” she said, with a glib smile and a short, stubby wave. “Keep your chin up and your eyes open—you’ll see.”

Kagome’s shoulders sank as she glowered down at the woman’s bowed head. Hurt and irritation prickled within her. Her fists balled trembling at her sides. She wanted to scream out, ‘You give terrible advice!’

But what she blurted instead was, “How many sessions did you have with him?—the ‘spirit’ of that cave?”

The round-cheeked woman blinked up at her. “Ah?”

Kagome glanced aside, flushing slightly as she fiddled with the bow at her shoulder. “I didn’t mention it before, but I’m a priestess, you see—and I have reason to believe that the spirit haunting that cave outside your village is a demon who preys on young women’s innocence.” Hotly, she added through gritted teeth, “He leads them on for a while, gets them to let down their guard with his ‘good guy’ act, and then, when they’ve finally fallen for it hook, line, and sinker, he makes his move—and well, that’s that.”

Blowing her bangs out of her flashing eyes with a huff, the miko nearly topped over when the laundress began to chuckle.

“…Forgive me, Miko-sama,” the woman said, dashing a plump wrist across her eyes, “but you have him mistaken. Our good spirit is chaste to a fault, and never visits any woman more than once, besides.”

Now it was Kagome’s turn to blink. “Huh?”

“Why, if he would,” the matron continued heartily, “there’d be a regular line of us there each month!” Her chortling ended in a wistful sigh. “That neck rub of his was divine indeed, but it’s his voice I remember most fondly. How soothing it was! So rich and smooth…a true lord’s voice—though my husband’s is a passing match. Ha ha!” Hefting up her buckets, she gave the stunned miko a saucy parting wink. “Good luck to you, Miko-sama, in finding this demon of yours.”

Weakly, Kagome bid the cheery woman good-bye. Mind still reeling, she stumbled back through the trees. Clutching at the one where she and Kirara would meet, the miko slumped down to the roots. Her eyes were wide and staring as she let her head fall back against the carving in the trunk.

Just who, on earth, had she been meeting in that cave…?

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi