Kagome scowled. “Inuyasha and I didn’t ‘steal’ anything.”

Hirokin cocked his head, a shiver of watery sunlight gilding the platinum fall of his hair. “Is there another term you would prefer, Kagome-sama, for taking that which does not belong to you? I am speaking, of course, about the red barrier crystal, split and leached of its essence in your quest to defeat the hanyou Naraku.”

The miko stiffened. “That crystal was given to us by its bearer Shiori,” she protested, “in exchange for saving her life.”

“Shiori.” Hirokin’s lip curled with a repugnance that made Kagome want to blast his head off after all. “No offspring of Tsukuyomaru, or Taigokumaru for that matter, ever had the right to throw it away. That crystal belonged to my mother Haname.”

“Your mother?” Kagome blinked. “…Your mother was a bat daiyoukai?”

“Gods no,” the river demon said with a grimace of distaste. “My mother was born of the sea, Kagome-sama. The Blood Coral Crystal was her invention—a bauble which was lost to her long ago, while she was dozing on the crest of a wave.” Below her at the shoreline, Hirokin paced as he spoke, the flowing blue and white silk of his hakama whispering like lapping water over the stones. “Tirelessly, she scoured the seas for it, yet the crystal had been spirited away beyond her reach. Perhaps in time,” he added, his tone softening as he paused in his circuit, “she might have crafted another, yet the gods did not permit it to be so.”

Kagome’s eyes trailed over him, lingering for a moment on the strand of glittering red coral fragments that encircled his throat. “She was very special to you, wasn’t she?”

Cold and dark, an undercurrent stirred the placid surface of his youki, as if welling from some abyssal depth of the soul. Hirokin smiled shallowly at her as he inclined his head.

“As all mothers are, I suppose.” Elegantly, he waved, as though to banish both the subject and the sentiment. “With Haname’s death, the art of the barrier crystal’s creation perished from this world. Trapped in that sword of yours is the only living trace of such power—a power so great that its very nature defies reclaiming by force, a power that if it were yet extracted and refined might prevail against an empire…”

Kagome’s expression darkened. “What exactly are you insinuating, Hirokin?”

The demon prince’s eyes glittered like chips of blue crystal themselves. “Only that you and I have now demonstrated something of our usefulness to one another, and may do so again, to the benefit of us both.” Before she could retort ‘what usefulness’, Hirokin pressed on, “Do you like your new army, Kagome-sama? The good thing about chaos is that it creates opportunity, for those shrewd and powerful enough to seize it. Although based on how well you’ve withstood Sesshoumaru-sama’s tyranny thus far, I had expected no less from you.”

The miko blanched, her knees going weak as her mind began to reel. In her soul she sensed it: that Hirokin knew…that he knew everything. From the start perhaps he had known—

What Sesshoumaru had done. What she had done.

The knowledge rose like bile within her. But even still, she couldn’t risk betraying their secret based on an assumption—no matter how accurate it felt. Grimly, Kagome choked back her accusations, cold sweat breaking out across her brow.

“What you’re suggesting,” she grit out instead, her bloodless fingers numbing around Tessaiga’s hilt, “sounds a lot like treason.”

“Treason is a matter of heart and perspective,” Hirokin replied, all trace of irony vanishing from his tone. “My first loyalty will always be to the ones whom I love—in this, Kagome-sama, I think we are very much alike.”

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi