Alone in her home, Kagome stared up at the close, dark ceiling in paralytic numbness—unable to move, unable to sleep. As the air began to lighten, her lashes fluttered, her fingers twitched. Thawing slowly from her frozen state, she rose and wandered from the hut. Dawn had not yet broken. Still dressed in her sleeping

“Kagome—you still in bed?” Before she could respond, Inuyasha burst through the door of their home, a pile of parcels from the Modern Era balanced in his arms. She winced as the afternoon sunlight slanted full across her face. Her hand rose belatedly to shield her eyes from the glare. With an unmistakable spring in

Kagome’s face was still burning with indignation as she burst through the trees at the edge of the village, like the devil himself was at her heels. Furiously, she stalked her way toward the square. Swiping her sweaty bangs aside, she paused at the well to get a drink. Her hands shook with suppressed anger

For the second time, Kagome ran her hand along the rough edge of the submerged stone. Wincing, she turned her dripping palm face-up, watching as the angry red scrape in the center smoothed and faded before her eyes. An anxious frown weighed at her lips. She’d suspected it earlier that day, but now there was