In a tempest of frustration, Kagome paced back and forth across the length of the shrine house. The flames of the brazier bowed, flickering and writhing, each time she stalked past. She’d come here to meditate, but all sense of inner calm eluded her. Her train of thought was fractured, jagged-edged and incongruous as a sheet of ice breaking and drifting downstream.

Damn Ren for trying to force her hand. He was ambitious, she’d realized that much about him from the start. Admired and relied on it, even. But his ambitions had climbed too high for her peace of mind. He was like a roaring fire, threatening at any moment to blaze away unchecked.

Kagome resented that her first inclination was to turn to Sesshoumaru for help. But how could she, as a miko, embroil a demon like him in this human conflict of hers? It curdled her blood to think of begging him such a favor. Even if she were willing to ask him, even if he were willing to do it, she shuddered to think what his price would be…

No, Sesshoumaru was a moot point in all this. Kagome knew it as well as Ren did. She wouldn’t drag her brother-in-law into this confrontation any more than her opponent would—but just because the samurai wouldn’t be so reckless as to harm her or Rin didn’t mean he wouldn’t find a way to burn them, eventually.

Ren’s star was rising in Edo, Kagome couldn’t dispute it. But the fact that he still felt the need to court her allegiance meant that something else was holding those fiery aspirations of his in check.

Kagome’s shoulders slumped as she stood peering down into that bowl of seething flame. There was nothing for it, she decided. Swallowing her pride was a bitter pill, but she forced herself to the task, as she stepped out of the shrine house and made her way to the outskirts of town.

Beyond the great timber gates stood the watchtower, which had grown from a crow’s nest of sorts into a full-fledged outpost, with a compound of smaller buildings and keeps surrounding it. The sound of falling hammers, booted feet and clanging armor filled the air, along with the scents of iron, wood and leather. The rugged, martial atmosphere of the place reminded Kagome starkly of a certain village gone extinct.

As she approached the tower entrance, Ikiryou growled low in his throat. Thinking he was only echoing her own grim sentiments, Kagome entered and began the long upward climb. She was near to the top before she finally heard the sound of thin, ragged breaths panting after them.

“Kanako-chan!” Kagome said irritably, peering down from the landing. “How long have you been following me?”

“I looked for you at the fortress, Kagome-sama, but you were not there,” the waif answered hoarsely, hesitating on the step. “Then I chanced to see you headed this way.”

“The fortress?” Kagome frowned, narrowing her gaze. “What were you doing hanging around there? You’re supposed to be helping Rin-chan with her patients.”

“She sent me off to ask you something,” Kanako hedged, “but now I forget…”

Kagome pinched the bridge of her nose in consternation. She didn’t have the patience for this.

“Fine, whatever,” she grumbled, exhaling slowly. “Since you’re here, you can go exercise Ikiryou for me—he’s been cooped up today, and it’s making him edgy.”

Warily, Kanako eyed the bristling dog. “But, Kagome-sama, he seems the same as always to me.”

“Go on, now,” Kagome said lowly, and with Ikiryou taking a snap at Kanako’s hem, she fled promptly down the steps with the great grizzled dog loping after her.

The scattering of militiamen around them chuckled at Kanako’s scampering and squealing. Shaking her head to clear it, Kagome advanced toward the screen door and slid it back.

Within, Kohaku was conversing with a few of his lieutenants. Crossing her arms at the chest, Kagome hung back in the threshold. Though he didn’t cast so much as a glance in her direction, she knew he’d noted her presence long before she’d drawn back that door. He was snubbing her, and although she’d expected it, it chafed at her to be sure.

He alone of the group was facing toward her. But it wasn’t until another of the men happened to notice her standing there that Kohaku leveled his piercing dark gaze upon her. Kagome felt skewered by it, like a moth pinned within a frame.

“…Kagome-sama,” the other men murmured respectfully to her, bowing as they dismissed themselves, and closed the door behind them.

The moment it whisked shut, Kagome’s paralysis lifted. Stepping forward, she clasped her hands modestly before her and lowered her eyes.

“Kohaku-kun, it’s been far too long since we’ve last spoken, and I—”

“So,” he interrupted her ruthlessly, “you’re in trouble now, are you?”

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi