The Lord of the Western Lands lifted a hand to his chest as a brisk wind rustled through the trees, attempting to tug loose the white ribbon tied to his armor. Securing the ribbon’s knot anew, he let his claws return to the smooth face of the boulder upon which he sat, idly watching as

Hiyoshimaru trailed from Nobunaga’s shoulder like a small furry banner as they barreled ahead through the demonic wood. Unable to see it coming through the miasmic darkness, the miko and samurai yelped as a sharp-edged wooden tendril speared through the thin barrier surrounding them, only Entei’s swift maneuvering keeping their heads above their shoulders. Drawing

One Year Later “Amari-kun,” Kagome said, stepping lightly over a puddle of simmering, shouki-laced tar, “I don’t have a very good feeling about this place…” Gliding above the ground beside her, Entei tossed his flickering mane in agreement. “I know what you mean…” the young samurai replied uneasily, his monkey companion Hiyoshimaru digging all four

“Jakken-sama, please tell us another!” “Please, please!” “Oh, all right, all right!” the imp huffed in feigned irritation. “I suppose.” A small cheer went up among the gathered children as they circled closer to him in the grass. Perched upon the stump of a felled tree, Jakken straightened theatrically. “It is said,” he began with

“…No.” All the happiness, all the relief–all the sheer joy and elation Kagome had felt upon defeating Naraku and reclaiming the Jewel, upon returning home with her friends, upon reuniting with Sesshoumaru–all of it was being stripped away, torn out from underneath her until nothing remained but that dark place of pain she’d prayed she’d

With the tinny sound of breaking crystal, the portal closed behind them, Kagome and the others descending toward the village square. At once a cheering crowd swarmed around the returning heroes as cries of “Kagome-sama–Kagome-sama is back!” rang out through the fields and streets. Swept off Ah-Un’s saddle, the weary miko found herself half-escorted, half-carried

As the last of Naraku drifted off glittering into the ether, Kagome sank to her knees. It’s over, she thought, closing her eyes with a sigh that welled up from the very bottom of her soul. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the Shikon no Tama lying before her. Dark amethyst in color,

Swiping a furious hand across her lips, Kagome scrambled back from Naraku in revulsion. The hanyou laughed, assuming the form of Hitomi Kagewaki once more. “Does Sesshoumaru’s kiss so revile you now, Kagome?” The miko glared. “It’s you who disgusts me, Naraku. You can put on whatever face you want, but I see what you

Perhaps his power alone was not enough, but— Channeling his full strength into Tessaiga, Sesshoumaru unleashed the Wind Scar in a torrent of blinding light, directing it toward that divergence in Magatsuhi’s youki and his own. His attack blazed through the gap, prising into it and driving the demon’s own power back onto himself with