Clothed once again in red hakama and white haori, Kagome made her way through the castle gates. It was early morning yet. Against the soft, thawing ground, her horse’s hooves made only a whisper of sound. On the way out of town, she encountered an army marching up the road. At their advance, the townsfolk

Kagome froze. In that bitter, breathless moment, she thought she might just die after all. Then the moment passed. She thawed from her frozen shock. Balling her hands into fists in her sleeves, Kagome clenched her jaw and glanced aside. “Well,” she muttered, low and fierce, “good for him.” Head cocked to one side, Hirokin

The last few days had been sunny and unseasonably warm. Whether this signaled another short winter or a false spring remained to be seen. But for now the residents of Tatsumi enjoyed the reprieve regardless. The thick blankets of snow covering the castle grounds had grown patchy and frayed, leaving great swathes of bare earth

Relieved as Kagome felt, it was still vaguely distressing to her that Natsuko didn’t even attempt to snub her or curse her upon arrival. Instead, cowering back in her bed, she gazed palely at Kagome in tremulous, tearful apprehension. “T-that beast,” she asked faintly, clutching the blankets up to her chin, “…is he gone?” “He’s

On the eve of Marika’s departure, the household gathered at the gates to see her off. Only her father was notably absent, unable to rise from his bed. But Marika had said her goodbyes to him privately, before. At the front of the farewell party, Kagome stood with Yahiko at her side. She hadn’t spoken

“Kagome,” a voice spoke to her, deep and even and cool. She knew that voice. It was the voice she loved most in all the world. “Kagome, I am here.” But when Kagome woke, she was alone. Her lashes weighed heavy, the very tips of them crystallized with frost. But she was dry. Around her fevered