InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Phoenix Blade: Time Lapse ❯ Darkest Before Dawn ( Chapter 84 )

Disclaimer: Don't own…don't sue. Tormenting them purely for my own sadistic pleasure. All characters and most situations owned by Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan Publishing, and VIZ is in the dog-pile somewhere, too.

 

A/N: Whew! Almost done, after a three year run; only one more chapter and an Epilogue to go!

 

The medal presented to Kagome is the Grand Cordon of the Order of the Chrysanthemum, the highest award attainable by a Japanese citizen. The military equivalent, the Order of the Golden Kite, was abolished by the Occupation government in 1947.

 

Many thanks to Sharibet for sharing her information on the Great Kanto Earthquake.

 

Bouquets: As always, heartfelt thanks to my bunny-wrangling team of Forthright, Nokomarie the Snake, Ranuel and Susanne TJ!

 

Warnings: Coarse language and plenty of angst; if you don't like to see Kagome struggling emotionally, I can guarantee you won't care for this chapter. I've based her experiences on real-life examples of young men and women returning to the home front from the battlefield.

 

The Phoenix Blade: Time Lapse

Chapter 84: Darkest Before Dawn

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

Present Day

 

After Kagome's desperate, confusing apology, she passed out again in Yashita's arms in the rain-slicked courtyard. In the moment of stillness that prevailed, the hushed sounds of wind and water were broken as the varied onlookers dashed towards the fallen girl.

 

Shimano jumped to his feet and flung his arms wide. “Stay back!” he shouted, accurately anticipating what happened next. The scent of Kagome's blood cracked Yashita's control as the primal instinct to protect his mate brought his youki to the surface. Red flames boiled up around the hanyou as he bared his fangs and held Kagome even tighter. Half-rising, he snarled furiously, his head darting from side to side as if looking for an escape route; Shimano dropped into a low crouch and bared his throat. “It's all right, Otou-san,” he murmured. “Please don't run… Okaa-san needs help.”

 

The second's hesitation was all Sessaki needed. Flaring his aura, he wrapped it around the agitated hanyou. Yashita's energy briefly struggled against the overwhelming odds; Sessaki growled once, in a low, commanding tone and five centuries of conditioning took over Yashita's responses. When he raised his head, golden eyes locked on the taiyoukai. Slowly standing up, Yashita allowed Shimano to approach before carrying his unconscious wife over to his brother. “Will you take her to the infirmary… quickly?” he requested, his voice cracking.

 

Sessaki glanced at the waiting medics before declaring, “There is no need for dramatics; her injuries are no longer life-threatening.” At his calm words, Kioko Higurashi sagged against Touma's chest, crying tears of relief as the atmosphere immediately lightened… for some people.

 

“What do you mean, `no longer life-threatening'?” Shimano asked in disbelief, his nose twitching at the coppery stench which usually meant a mortal wound in his experience, but the taiyoukai shook his head.

 

“She had been impaled by a piece of wood in the aftermath of Naraku's destruction; when I entered the well to retrieve her, it was gone without a trace.”

 

Less than an hour later, infirmary staff carefully stripped Kagome out of her blood-drenched clothing in her mother's and husband's presence. Just like the vanished scars on her face, it was discovered that there wasn't a mark of any kind marring her skin. When this information was relayed to those waiting outside of the examination room, Sessaki frowned thoughtfully. “It's as if she's been reborn,” he finally said.

 

“She is the Phoenix… however, will she rise again to face the future or choke on the ashes of the past?” Rin mused quietly, arching her eyebrow when Shimano spluttered indignantly.

 

“My Okaa-san has never run from a challenge,” he protested, plainly upset at this apparent lack of faith in the young woman.

 

“We know that Kagome has enough courage for several people,” Rin acknowledged with a gentle smile and a soothing pat on the kitsune's arm. “I simply meant that the transition between the daily stresses of war-time service and the relative boredom of peace is not always easy. We have seen first hand many times in the past the difficulties faced by our guardsmen as they redefined themselves.”

 

A shadow passed over Touma's face before he murmured, “Only time will tell.”

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

Three days later, Imperial Military Academy infirmary.

 

Kagome studied the ceiling tiles in her curtained-off cubicle, mentally connecting the dark speckles within the grid while she waited. When she heard footsteps approaching, she closed her eyes. She'd been playing this game, too, since the previous day, preferring to avoid the inevitable for as long as possible. Focussing on keeping her heartbeat and breathing even and slow to fool youkai senses, she waited to see who had been detailed to sit with her when Yashita could not. They all talk, eventually, so I don't have to detect auras; it's simply a matter of time.

 

The curtains rustled and scraped on their metal rings as a body passed through the fabric; the metal legs of a chair screeched as it was dragged closer to her bed. A body settled itself, and then a warm calloused hand slid under hers where it lay on top of the bedding.

 

“You gotta wake up soon, Sis. We're goin' nuts here,” Sota said in a low voice, massaging her cold fingers.

 

Yes, he'll do. Kagome turned her head towards her brother and opened her eyes.

 

“Sis!” Sota's face broke out into a wide grin. He leaned forward and planted an exuberant kiss on her cheek, then jumped to his feet. “I'll go get Yash!”

 

“No.” She tightened her grip as his expression changed. “I want to go home, Sota.”

 

“Home?”

 

“To the shrine… please, Sota. Take me home.”

 

He carefully studied her face before slowly nodding. “All right. Give me a few minutes to organize something. The only reason I'm here instead of Yash is because he's in some kind of emergency meeting with Shimano, Sessaki and Kogashu.”

 

Kagome gave a small smile, but held onto his hand. “Thanks, Sota.”

 

“Why don't you want me to…?”

 

Her eyelashes fluttered closed, and she sighed. “I'm not ready to face him… them… answer questions… I just can't.”

 

“Okay.” He stooped to kiss her forehead. “Put in a good word for me when your husband finds out… I'll go locate Akagane. If anyone can sneak you out of here, she's the one.”

 

Sota was as good as his word and returned a few minutes later with Akagane, who had a bundle of clothing tucked under her arm and wore a disapproving expression.

 

“Obaa-chan? Are you sure you want to do this?” In reply, Kagome sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Akagane exchanged a worried glance with Sota before holding out a set of fleeces. “The story is, you're one of the first-year female cadets; you felt sick in class and threw up on the way to the toilet. I loaned you my spare gear and gained permission to escort you home.” As Sota stepped outside the curtains, Kagome quickly dressed in the garments and stepped into a pair of gym shoes that were a size too small.

 

“My scent on the clothes should disguise yours, and I'm tweaking your appearance to resemble my classmate. You're about the same height and build, but her hair is shorter and her eyes are darker.” Akagane concentrated, imbuing a leaf with her youki before pinning it into Kagome's hair, adding, “Because of Ojii-chan's junkyard-dog disposition, the nurses will give your cubicle a wide berth for the next few minutes even though they think Sota's here. All we have to do is get you down to the service entrance and into the taxi.”

 

“Service entrance?”

 

“My mom and I used it to visit my dad at the Armoury when I was little,” she replied. “It's unguarded.”

 

Sota slipped back inside the enclosed space, snapping shut a cell phone. “All set. The taxi will be there in five minutes or less.”

 

Akagane quickly kissed him on the cheek. “Make yourself scarce so they'll think you're still sitting with Kagome.”

 

“Yes, ma'am.” He snapped off a salute before frowning at his disguised sister. “I really don't agree with this; promise me you won't do anything stupid.”

 

“I promise,” she replied stonily.

 

Akagane's simple ruse worked extremely well; her solicitousness in escorting the `sick cadet' convinced the few people who saw them that the unfortunate girl was in good hands. They were out the service entrance and into the waiting taxi in no time flat, but Kagome didn't begin to breathe freely until the Imperial complex receded behind the vehicle.

 

The shrine gates were still closed and locked, so Akagane came with her up the long, wet staircase while the cab waited down in the street. As they paused under the dripping torii, the vixen peered at the house before catching hold of the young woman's sleeve. “Obaa-chan, I don't like this; let me call Ojii-chan…”

 

“I can't stop you from calling him, but I really need some time to myself… before I have to pretend to be someone I'm not.” Her bleak expression unnerved Akagane.

 

“I figure that you have between half an hour and forty-five minutes, tops, before the meeting is over and the shit hits the fan when Ojii-chan finds out that you've flown the coop.”

 

“Thanks,” Kagome said, smiling wanly. “I appreciate the risk you took to sneak me out of there.” Akagane watched her trudge across the courtyard towards the house. Chewing her lip and rubbing one foot against the other as she debated on how best to avoid Yashita's considerable ire, she made a decision before bounding down the stairs to the idling taxi.

 

The fresh wood of the well house walls gleamed in the light drizzle; Kagome pondered this, plus the structure's newly tiled roof, as she slid open the entry door and stepped into the foyer. The silence wrapped around her as she shucked Akagane's spare shoes. Ojii-chan must still be in Chiba… Touma would be at the Imperial Household offices, and Mom's probably wedding planning.

 

When Yashita nearly tore her bedroom door off its hinges eighteen minutes later, he was greeted by the alluring sight of a naked young woman standing in front of her mirror. All those bare curves were momentarily distracting, but her reflected expression stopped him cold. He watched her hands move over her sleek, smooth, undamaged skin; even the white mark of the Jewel's emergence from her body was gone. When she raised her eyes to meet his in the mirror, he was taken aback by her dark, anguished glance.

 

Dropping his rain-soaked fatigue jacket onto the floor, he strode forward and scooped her shivering form into his arms. Carrying her over to the bed, he sent her long bow clattering to the floor as he flipped back the covers. After tucking her between the sheets, he stripped out of his trousers and joined her. Holding her close, he bit back a multitude of questions and concentrated on soothing her with his touch.

 

It took a long time, but Kagome finally whimpered as if giving up a struggle and burrowed into his chest, her fingers twisting into his t-shirt. As the first sob welled up in her throat, Yashita wrapped himself around her and held on, waiting patiently for the storm to pass. When she was hiccupping quietly, he brushed back her bangs and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Kagome snuffled miserably, half-heartedly wiping at her face as the tears continued to flow. “I-I couldn't draw my bow,” she confessed.

 

Yashita thought rapidly while continuing to stroke her hair. “Why were you testing yourself?” he asked in a carefully neutral tone, and was deeply concerned when she began trembling again. “Tell me, koishii… tell me so I can help… please.”

 

“I've lost my strength,” she whispered, and he knew there was more to this than being out of practice with the weapon.

 

“How?”

 

“The Jewel,” Kagome replied through chattering teeth.

 

“I don't understand,” Yashita murmured, deeply puzzled. “What does the Jewel have to do with it?” The young woman shuddered, her icy hands sneaking up under his shirt.

 

“I was supposed to die, so that my soul could reseal the Jewel. Kikyo took my place because she wanted me to live.”

 

He tightened his embrace, appalled at the very idea he still might have lost her to the infernal pink bauble when all was said and done. “Kikyo protected you? That was incredibly noble… keh. She really had changed before she died again.” The girl in his arms sniffled loudly, bringing him back to the main question. Choosing his words carefully, he asked, “Did the Jewel somehow twist her wish?”

 

There was the barest of nods against his damp chest, and then a very long silence as she screwed up her courage. “I'm human now, Inuyasha… an ordinary woman, without any powers or special abilities. The Jewel took everything…” Clawed fingers tilted up her chin, breaking her off in mid-sentence.

 

Amber eyes full of warmth and tenderness gave her pause. “You'll always be extraordinary to me; don't forget that.” Kagome was struck speechless; after a moment of silence, in which her madly-whirling brain only gained speed, Yashita said slowly, “In a way, I think the Jewel may have done you a favour.”

 

“Wh-what do you mean?”

 

“A very long time ago, you said you were afraid that you wouldn't be able to meet my expectations.” When she nodded, he continued, “You've had quite a few labels hung on you, like `the Celestial Bodyguard', `the Protector of the Jewel', `the Phoenix of Legend', `the Reincarnation'… `the Weapon'… and you've lived up to each and every one of them. Now, your slate has been wiped clean and you can decide your own course.” As Kagome gaped at him, he continued, “You might feel like you've lost a part of your identity, but in reality, you've actually regained a bit of who you were before you went through the well.”

 

“B-but I can't talk to Fenik or Midoriko,” she said miserably. “They helped me when things became difficult… between us or on the quest.”

 

“I'm sorry that you've lost their guidance, but from now on, you have to make your own decisions and your own mistakes. Time seemed to pause while you were on the other side; it's now moving forward.” He fell quiet as she digested his words. After giving her a few moments to think, he asked, “What happened to Midoriko?”

 

“She said she would ascend…”

 

“That's good, isn't it? You brought her peace; that's an accomplishment. As for your sword, he was blood-forged specifically for you, so I'm sure that he'll find a way to let you know he's around… like when Tetsusaiga growled at me the night before the final battle.” She looked so mournful that Yashita couldn't decide whether to be jealous or sympathetic.

 

“Where is Fenik?” she asked.

 

“At the forge; apparently Totosai went off on a truly spectacular rant about how the House of the West consistently mistreats his works of art,” Yashita grinned. “While the old man gnashed his gums and wailed, his apprentice quietly promised Kira that you'd have Fenik back in time for the Emperor's birthday.”

 

She fiddled with the neckline of his t-shirt, feeling the distinctive bumps of the rosary underneath. “It doesn't bother you… that I'm not the same person you fell in love with?” she mumbled.

 

He chuckled softly, nuzzling her hair. “Five centuries ago, we were together for only a year and a half; while that brief time with you was incredibly intense, I could hardly claim to truly know you by the end of it.” Yashita pressed another kiss to her forehead. “On this end of time, I had twenty years to fall in love with you all over again before you went through the well… when you were still an `ordinary woman'.”

 

As his words sank in, she clung to him like he was her anchor. Yashita began rumbling deep in his chest as he held onto her just as tightly, soothing away her fears. “I'm here for you, Kagome; anything you need, anything you want to talk about… I'm here.” He wondered why her scent abruptly flooded with sadness and her tears again started to flow.

 

Unable to decipher her suffering expression, he resumed purring. “It's all right, koishii… whenever you're ready, I'll listen.” That reassurance only made her cling more tightly, which in turn puzzled him even more over the source of her distress, but he smoothed his hands up and down her back instead of questioning her further.

 

In a little while, her sobs trailed off and she searched for a dry area of fabric. “Just a minute,” he said, letting go long enough to sit up, strip off his t-shirt and tenderly dab her eyes, then tossed the damp garment onto the floor beside his trousers. Taking her into his arms again, he cuddled her against his bare chest. “Take a little break, Kagome. Naraku wasn't defeated in a day, and no one expects you to recover just like that.”

 

Kagome sighed deeply and rested her head over his heart while he ran his claws through her hair. Letting the sound of his heartbeat and his gentle touch soothe her turbulent thoughts, she drifted off into that warm, drowsy zone… until the cadence thudding beneath her ear identified itself. “Our heartbeats… they're the same,” she mumbled.

 

“Ever since you came back through the well for the final time,” he said contentedly.

 

“So that means… you knew something was up today before you found out I'd disappeared,” Kagome mumbled, peering up at him through her bangs.

 

“Yeah. Akagane called me on her cell to `fess up, luckily before I tore a hole through the wall on my way out of the meeting.”

 

“It wasn't her fault; I kinda bullied her and Sota into busting me out.”

 

“I figured as much. Don't worry; I'll only make them scrub the latrines two or three times,” he teased.

 

“Will I be disciplined?” she asked apprehensively.

 

“Technically you went AWOL, but I expect Sessaki will let it slide.”

 

She sighed again and allowed his presence to soothe her while the rain pattered against her bedroom window. “Tell me about Miroku and Sango?” she asked, wanting to hear his voice as much as she wanted news of their lost friends.

 

“You'll have to ask Shimano, since he lived at the village with them. I had to be within touching range of Sess' aura for almost a hundred years, so we only visited for important occasions while he consolidated his power. We went back to help with the village's Spring rice planting, but my youki reacted badly at being so close to the place where we lost you, and Sess had to bundle me off like an obnoxious pup to prevent a scene.” Yashita was silent for a few moments before continuing, “I was in better shape when Kohaku got married about six years later; Rin was so excited about seeing everyone again that Sess couldn't say `no'.”

 

“Who did Kohaku marry?”

 

“One of the orphan girls from the village destroyed by the Band of Seven; her name was Chiyo. I met Miroku and Sango's brats at the same time… two little boys the spitting images of the houshi and a brand-new baby daughter, named after you.” Kagome went utterly still in his arms, and her scent again became heavy. A vague suspicion formed at the back of Yashita's mind, but he dismissed it when she seemed to shake off whatever was bothering her and her breathing steadied as her body relaxed. He adjusted his hold to make sure she stayed asleep, supremely happy to hold her and listen to the rain.

 

She dreamed of being trapped alone in the dark, helplessly listening to the crying of a distant baby, and woke up in the midst of a panic attack.

 

The pattern was set for weeks to come.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

Two weeks later…

 

“May I extend sincere congratulations on your singular honour, Lady Kagome?” Suzume said, his narrow face enlivened by a brilliant smile.

 

“Thank you,” she replied, bowing politely. Her movement dislodged the precisely-positioned cordon of the Imperial decoration she had received an hour earlier in a hushed private ceremony; the sparrow-youkai darted forward to straighten the broad band of colourful silk. “I think I was more nervous about being presented with this medal than I was facing Naraku,” she confessed as he fussily tweaked the white-enamelled sunburst circled by golden chrysanthemums now secured to her kimono.

 

“You have been in the Imperial presence before, so why would you have cause for concern?” he asked, fixing her with his bright, beady eyes.

 

“Of course; but coming so soon after… to be the focus of so much attention… I just wasn't sure if I could keep it all together.” Her fingers twisted the rich material of her sleeve; Suzume frowned at this sign of stress.

 

“You did well, Lady Kagome. You accepted this award as a representative of your entire unit… for the monk, for the demon-slayer and for your hanyou.” A cloud passed over her pretty face; he wondered but continued, “Lord Kogashu will arrive shortly to collect you at the appropriate moment.” Bowing, he withdrew from the antechamber of the Imperial Palace currently doing duty as a dressing room, and she was alone with her thoughts.

 

Not exactly alone, but she found herself highly reluctant to approach the other being in the room for fear her heart would break.

 

Rolling her neck to relieve some of the tension creeping up from her shoulders, she again reviewed the procedure for the afternoon's special court celebration of the Emperor's birthday. I wonder what on earth His Imperial Majesty was told? I'm sure it isn't every day he awards medals for mythical victories that took place several centuries ago!

 

She'd been somewhat taken aback two weeks before, on the evening of the day following her `escape' from the infirmary, when Touma had arrived at the shrine bearing the official notification of the medal ceremony. At her plaintive, “Don't I even have time to mourn?” the rest of her family had exchanged glances, but apparently the traditional forty-nine day mourning period simply did not apply to a modern Celestial Bodyguard. She was also plainly appalled to find out that she was expected to attend a victory party celebrating Naraku's defeat as soon as possible.

 

Her near-panicked reaction managed to stall the victory party until after the New Year's celebrations, raising official concerns that all was not well with the young woman.

 

Even though Kagome attended the protocol training sessions in Touma's offices every morning for ten days, usually followed by lunch with Shimano or Yashita at the Armoury, it was impossible for those who loved her to miss the darkness in her eyes and in her scent, which grew heavier with each passing day. By the end of the training, she was absolute perfection in her turnout and in her deportment… as perfect as a porcelain doll, and as hollow.

 

Yashita was beside himself with worry, but his gentle inquiries caused her to retreat even further into her shell. He continued to stay over at the shrine every night, trying to be as understanding as possible, even when Kagome emphatically rebuffed his tentative attempts to re-establish a deeper intimacy. His presence did nothing to mute the nightmares that continued to stalk her sleep, leaving her hollow-eyed and pale in the mornings, a shadow of her former self.

 

Kogashu will be here soon. With that thought, she rose to her feet and squared her shoulders. I have to do this, but it just hurts… so much… Forcing herself to look across the room at the sword reposing in a starkly beautiful holder on top of an exquisite rosewood chest, a huge lump rose in her throat and her chest tightened. Fenikkusuken's gleaming black leather-covered sheath and gilded blade guard were accentuated by a new red, gold and green tasselled silk cord now swinging from the hilt. She hadn't carried any weapons during the medal presentation, but now the full arsenal was required.

 

Slowly shouldering her unusable long bow and freshly-polished quiver, she steeled herself for the worst. He's lost to me, just like Miroku or Sango or Kaede… Fiercely biting her lip to stave off the tears, Kagome reached for the katana. It felt strangely heavy, and the lump grew larger. Will I ever be able to perform the Imperial kata with him? Swallowing hard, she took hold of the hilt and pulled the blade partially free of the sheath.

 

The cleaned and honed blade shone brightly, looking very much as it had the day she was presented with it a year and a half earlier. “You look good, Fenik… really good,” she choked out, hoping he could hear. Turning the weapon over in her hands, her brow furrowed at a chop mark newly-stamped into the fang just under the blade guard. Squinting at the symbol, she risked wiping away her tears on her silken sleeve for a better look, then gave a watery smile. “Totosai finally claimed you for his own, huh?” Sliding the blade back into place, she pressed her lips to the hilt… and was rewarded with a deep thrum that vibrated right through her body.

 

“Fenik?” she whispered, scarcely daring to hope, and the weapon cheerfully hummed again.

 

When Kogashu stepped into the antechamber a few moments later, he was confronted with an apparently-distraught Celestial Bodyguard sobbing over her sword. “Kagome! Shit… what's wrong?” he demanded, quickly closing the door behind him. He was flabbergasted when the young woman flashed a brilliant smile, her eyes shining with happiness even as the tears streamed down.

 

“He's still with me,” she said, as if that explained everything.

 

“Who's still with you?” Kogashu warily asked, privately wondering if her mental train had finally jumped its track. She shook her head, still smiling, and hugged her sword. Puzzled, he extracted a handkerchief out of the voluminous sleeve of his court costume and held it out to her. “Wipe your eyes and blow your nose, princess. If I take you out there all teary-eyed, Yashita and Sessaki will think I had something to do with it, and then the guardsmen will be scraping me off the floorboards with a trowel.”

 

She gratefully accepted the handkerchief, her soul feeling lighter than it had in days. Kogashu cocked his head to one side, inspecting the intimate way she held the katana, then thoughtlessly reached out to tap the gilded pommel cap. His fingertip didn't even make contact, because a stream of silver sparks shot out of the scabbard and the katana audibly hissed. Kagome giggled and soothingly stroked the sharkskin-bound grip. “Behave yourself, Fenik,” she chided as she handed back the damp fabric square.

 

“What was wrong with your sword?”

 

“Nothing… absolutely nothing. He's perfect.”

 

The baffled wolf prince scratched his ear, then shrugged. “I dunno about `perfect'… maybe `perfectly annoying'. Shall we get on with it, then? The ceremony is about to start.”

 

As Kagome took his arm, she asked, “I'm curious, wolfling… what story was spun to justify this medal?”

 

“The Imperial Family isn't as out of the loop as you might think.”

 

That night, Yashita was mightily perturbed when Kagome brought her sword to bed, falling asleep with it tucked under her chin. He did his best to not resent the way that she curled around it like a lover, leaving him to contemplate her back into the depths of the night.

 

She dreamed of grasping tentacles and glowing nightmare eyes… and the vivid fear brought her lurching upright and into his arms, her heart thundering in both of their chests.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

During the New Year'sholiday…

 

“Granddaughter, I really must insist that you are properly married on this side of the well as soon as possible!” The truculent old man glared at her, his hands fisted on his hips as he blocked the doorway of the main shrine, handily preventing her escape.

 

Kagome fidgeted unhappily, wishing desperately that either Kioko or Touma were in the vicinity to fend off the elder Higurashi. Upon his return from Chiba, once he was over the shock of the damage to the `national historic site' and had digested the revelation that Inuyasha was now known as Lord Yashita Nishiyori of the Western Lands as well as Sensei Yashita of the Imperial Military Academy, he had become positively terrier-like in his insistence that Kagome make her relationship with her hanyou legal on this end of time `to save the family honour'.

 

What was I thinking when I told Inuyasha that I wanted to stay here for the New Year's holiday instead of visiting the fortress? “Ojii-chan, I am married to Yashita...”

 

“Yashita-san. You should show your husband his due respect by referring to him properly. Why haven't you taken up your wifely duties and moved into his home? It is unseemly for you to remain here at the shrine like a child!”

 

Kagome closed her eyes and counted to ten. “I'm not ready, Ojii-chan,” she gritted out.

 

“Not ready? Then why do you welcome him into your bed? Irresponsible, granddaughter… highly irresponsible. What if you become pregnant?” His tirade was abruptly shut off when Kagome's fist collided with the sturdy timber next to his shoulder; he was sure he heard something crack, and it wasn't the wood.

 

He stared at the young woman, her eyes hidden by her bangs, as she held onto the doorframe with a white-knuckled grip, blood dripping onto the wooden floor. The only sound was her laboured breathing before she executed a shallow bow. “I apologize for sullying the sacred precincts,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “I'll be at the clinic if anyone's looking for me.” Straightening with an obvious effort, she pushed past him and headed across the courtyard to the house.

 

Yashita was extremely unimpressed with the splint adorning Kagome's hand when he returned shortly thereafter, but he chose to focus on soothing her unhappiness with the projected six weeks of disability she now faced without her enhanced healing abilities, rather than the conversation that led up to the injury. He politely listened to the elder Higurashi's fussing while the young woman sat silent and miserable beside him. While not grinding his fangs too loudly, he wrapped his hand around her fist, then pointed out that his wife had recently gone through a highly traumatic experience and he was willing to wait until she was ready.

 

Grandfather Higurashi grumped and huffed, plainly put out that Yashita didn't see things his way, but he finally agreed that perhaps it was best to give Kagome time to recover… but not much longer, he declared. The forty-nine days of mourning were over, and the wedding should take place as soon as possible.

 

Touma and Kioko had been watching in worried silence from the sidelines; after exchanging a glance, he cleared his throat. “We would be more than happy to formalize our relationship at Setsubun. The traditional lunar new year celebrations are an auspicious time for new beginnings.” As the elder Higurashi's attention swung to the other `irregular' couple in the family, Kagome slumped against Yashita's side. He gave her a comforting hug while Touma emphasized to Grandfather Higurashi that it would take a Herculean effort for his lady mother to organize suitable festivities on such short notice, but he was reasonably certain that she would rise to the occasion.

 

That concession seemed to placate the old man, especially when he realized that his family was gaining not one but two scions of a noble house. When he took himself off to look up the genealogy scrolls in the storage shed, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

 

“You sure you want to be rushed into a wedding only to keep a grumpy old man quiet? If it isn't this, he'll find something else to bitch about,” Yashita warned.

 

Touma slung his arm around Kioko's shoulders and tugged her against his side, smiling fondly down at the blushing woman. “Sooner rather than later suits us just fine,” he said. “He has old-fashioned sensibilities, so I can't blame him for wanting his family to conform to societal expectations.”

 

“Human society, you mean; does he have any idea that you're an inu-youkai?”

 

Fangs glinted as Touma briefly dropped his concealment spell. “Not a clue; just like he doesn't know that Kioko will be accompanied by another important guest… under her uchikake.”

 

Kagome went perfectly rigid as she and Yashita stared at the other couple, who were smiling with all the quiet contentment of a pair of cream-lapping cats. “Y-you're p-pregnant?” the hanyou finally stuttered.

 

“The signs so far are positive,” Touma blandly allowed, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

 

“In other words, your scent has changed,” Yashita said, giving Kioko a direct look; she nodded shyly. Glancing at Touma, he asked, “May I?”

 

“If my lady permits.”

 

Yashita approached Kioko, who smiled brightly up at him before tilting her head on the side. He bent down and inhaled deeply before backing up, wearing a toothy grin. “Congratulations.”

 

Touma cocked his head. “You can detect that?” he asked in surprise.

 

“My nose isn't as good as yours, but I can tell there's a difference in her scent.”

 

Kagome silently rose and crossed the room to kiss her mother's cheek; she hesitated only a moment before bestowing the same sign of affection on Touma. “I'm very happy for you,” she said, clasping their hands; Touma had to be careful of the splint. Bowing, she left the room; they heard her rapidly ascend the stairs.

 

Touma waited until Kagome's bedroom door closed before meeting Yashita's worried gaze. “Her scent is as heavy as it was before her sword was returned to her; what's going on?”

 

Yashita sighed and ran his claws through his bangs. “I have absolutely no idea… Okaa-san, do you have any clue as to what else might be bothering Kagome, besides the obvious? Losing her powers, losing her friends…?”

 

Kioko shook her head. “There are stages of grief that someone must go through; her outburst this afternoon is typical.” She smiled, a bit ruefully. “Not long after my husband passed away, I smashed the kitchen window in a moment of sheer fury that he was gone and I was alone.”

 

“Kagome appears to be suffering from depression,” Touma carefully suggested. “Grieving is one thing… but her sense of loss seems to go much deeper, like she's missing part of herself.”

 

Yashita nodded thoughtfully, rubbing the tip of his ear. “She seems to think of herself as somehow a lesser being without her enhanced powers… look sharp. Here comes the old man.”

 

Touma's concealment spell flowed over his features, removing the cobalt stripes and his claws from view just as he snapped his fingers. “We both know an expert in dealing with depression, grieving and loss.”

 

Yashita's golden eyes sharpened. “Yeah. We should have called her right at the beginning.”

 

The need for outside assistance was emphasized an hour later, when Yashita attempted to open Kagome's bedroom door. Locking it was purely a symbolic gesture, considering that he could remove the entire panel with merely a flick of his wrist, but he was crushed. He looked around at Kioko, who had paused in her own doorway at his dismayed noise. “What did I do?” he asked in confusion.

 

Kioko quickly came forward and hugged him. “Nothing, Inuyasha… you've done nothing wrong,” she said fiercely.

 

“She hasn't let me to touch her since the night before the final battle,” Yashita murmured tightly. “She brings that damn sword to bed every night, and her wedding ring sits on her desk, gathering dust.”

 

The twosome considered the mystery of the locked door, and the young woman secured on the other side of it. “We'd better get to the bottom of this, and quickly,” Kioko said, squeezing his hand. “Touma said that the victory party is now scheduled for the middle of next month, but I honestly don't think she's ready.”

 

“I don't think so, either, but the Court is beginning to talk. It's been delayed for five hundred years; we'll have to find some way to help her cope.”

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

First day of classes after the New Year's break

 

The rain poured down in the grey of early morning as Shimano's car idled next to the entry door of the Higurashi home. Akagane dozed in the back seat; it was comfortably quiet in the sedan after the excitement of the recent holiday. The kid better not take too long; Sessaki's always a stickler for punctuality the first morning of classes after the break… and I know Yashita hasn't been staying here since Kagome locked him out last week, so he'll be in fine form to kick some cadet ass. He didn't look up from his paper or his steaming travel mug of tea when the house door slammed, but he did startle when his window was sharply rapped.

 

Hatless and coatless, Kagome impatiently banged on the streaming glass.

 

Frowning, he unrolled the window, but he didn't have a chance to chastise her before she blurted out, “Where are they?”

 

“Where are who?” he asked, stalling for time.

 

“Sango and Miroku… Kaede and Shiori?”

 

“They're dead, Kagome,” he said flatly.

 

Her beseeching gaze instantly turned icy. “I know that, dammit! Where are their graves?”

 

The kitsune regarded her solemnly, probably judging her level of sanity, before he slowly nodded. “All right. I'll show you; grab an umbrella.”

 

She wiped the water out of her face. “Screw that. A little rain won't hurt me.”

 

“Humans are fragile, Kagome,” he said pointedly, and was rewarded with an absolutely poisonous glare.

 

“Just show me where the hell they are. Sota's brushing his teeth; we have five minutes.”

 

Shimano tried to stare her down and failed miserably, while she became wetter and more furious. He finally handed his tea over his shoulder to a now wide-awake Akagane and neatly folded his paper. “Fine. Don't blame me if you come down sick.” Kagome muttered something rather vile under her breath, but he pretended not to hear.

 

She backed up as he exited the car; with a final disapproving look at her weather-inappropriate clothing, he turned away and headed across the courtyard. Kagome was right on his heels, jogging to keep up with his longer strides as he made for the tall fence next to the well house. This wooden barrier held back the lush forest that covered the rest of the grounds, making the shrine a green oasis in the midst of the city. “Our first choice for the burial ground was the area under the Goshinboku, but then we realized we couldn't put anything where you might see it. Yash identified the future locations of the well house, the shrine proper, the family home and where the forest began, so we went from there. The fence went up before you were born, to keep a curious little girl from accidentally messing up the flow of time.”

 

The kitsune fluidly leapt over the barrier; Kagome heard metal grate against metal, and then one panel of the fence swung inward. Shimano pocketed a padlock as he held the gate open and she hurried through. It was dark and wet as he led her deeper into the dripping undergrowth, but she didn't complain. “Better bring clippers next time; we let the path become overgrown to disguise it,” he commented. Half-blinded in the dim light, Kagome grabbed the tail of his jacket. Shimano reached back and caught hold of her uninjured hand; if he noticed that she was shivering, he didn't comment.

 

“Here we are,” he announced, stopping beneath an ancient spreading magnolia.

 

Kagome looked around, puzzled. “Where are the grave markers?”

 

“Look carefully. They're all around us.”

 

Squinting into the gloom, Kagome scanned the vicinity. Finally, her eye picked up an apparently-random cluster of small boulders… and then another and another, scattered beneath the trees and stretching away into the undergrowth, dozens and dozens of them. Smooth ones, jagged ones, small ones, big ones… newer ones standing tall, older ones sinking into the loam under thick coats of lichen.

 

“That's Etsu and her second family's graves… and Shiori's,” Shimano said, squeezing her fingers as he pointed at a particularly large grouping of stones about twenty feet away. “Now that you're back permanently, we can start visiting them again. I snuck in to do a little annual clean-up for the past twenty years, but the area's due for a major tidying.”

 

“So… many…” Kagome murmured in surprise.

 

“This was the village's burial ground for three hundred and fifty years; there's lots of people here, not just your family,” he commented as he led her towards a large granite boulder sheltering under the magnolia's branches, surrounded by a fan-shaped array of smaller stones. “Kaede, Sango, Miroku and Kirara are here…”

 

“K-kirara?”

 

At her stricken look, Shimano smiled gently. “She wasn't a kitten when she fought alongside us, Kagome. Just before she died, she told us that she'd been Midoriko's companion in her youth. That would make her about two hundred years old in the Sengoku Jidai, and she died three hundred years after the well closed.” When Kagome barely stifled a sob, he turned and opened the front of his jacket, pulling her inside the heavy garment.

 

Shimano held her tightly, his chin resting on her head as she struggled to control her emotions. “Kirara's descendents are still with us, Okaa-san. Until the beginning of the twentieth century, the Sunset Shrine was famous for its resident population of unusual twin-tailed cats.” The young woman's dark head snapped up, her grey eyes wide.

 

“Buyo's a neko-youkai… wearing a concealment spell?” she squeaked.

 

He chuckled at the stunned look on her face. “Nope. He's just a regular ol' pussy-cat, because we weren't sure when your powers began to develop. We used the chaos of the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923 as a cover to remove the neko-youkai from the shrine; by the time you came along, no one remembered they'd ever been here.”

 

“Where are they now?”

 

“Scattered throughout the family; between the two of them, Masa and Shina Kosaru are owned by half a dozen. One of Shina's neko-youkai is about to have a litter, and she wants to give you a kitten. It's become a tradition that each descendent has a fire-cat in their home, so Yash will have to put up with one bossing him around.” Kagome went very still in his embrace and he mentally cursed his slip of the tongue while waiting for her inevitable question.

 

“S-sango a-and M-miroku… were my ancestors?” she finally asked in a very small voice.

 

Shimano soothingly rubbed her shoulders while framing his answer. “Yes. The main branch of the family took the surname `Higurashi' in the Meiji era.”

 

A short silence ensued while he could practically hear her mind turning over. “I was groped by my own ancestor… unbelievable.”

 

“How many people can claim a living history lesson like that?” he chuckled, squeezing her.

 

“But then why aren't Masa and Shina Higurashis? Aren't they my cousins?”

 

“Their great-grandmother was a Higurashi who married her distant cousin, a fellow descended from Kohaku's line, which had taken the name `Kosaru' back in the day. The granny was a formidable old girl, known to kilt up her kimono skirts, chase down opportunistic kitsunes, and thrash them for ruining her afternoon tea party.”

 

“Who could that have been, I wonder?”

 

“I have no idea,” he grinned, showing the tips of his fangs. “She took exception to her delicious ohagi being replaced by charmed leaves.” Shimano sobered. “You were the right person with the right lineage, born in the right place at the right time. You did good, Kagome.”

 

Kagome sighed heavily and leaned against him, soaking up his warmth while a myriad of emotions ran rampant through her head. Shimano cuddled her close, glad that he was the one sharing this moment with her. “I think I've made three people late on the first day of the new session,” she finally said, reluctantly moving away.

 

“Write me an excuse note, Okaa-san?” he teased before tucking her under his arm; she tried to pull away, her intentions to stay plainly obvious. “No way, Kagome. You're not lurking around out here without at least an umbrella. The gate won't be locked, so you can come back once you're properly dressed.” He began walking her through the misty trees. While she pouted, he mused, “It's really pretty in the spring, when the magnolia is in full bloom and dropping pink petals over the grass. Nice place to sit and reminisce, with a picnic lunch. Before you were born, Kogane and I would bring the kits here for an afternoon and tell them stories about the slayer, the houshi, the hanyou and the miko who changed the world.”

 

“I'm really not that special… not anymore,” she murmured regretfully as they stepped through the gate.

 

Shimano stopped in his tracks and took her by the shoulders. “You are very special to us, Okaa-san, and you have no idea how happy we are that you'll be with us for centuries to come. I can imagine how hard it is for you right now, because you've just said goodbye to everyone on that side, but try and cheer up a little, okay? You're worrying me.”

 

She gave him a tired smile. “Thanks, Ship-dip. I hope I feel better soon, because I have to make nice at a party I don't want to attend in another week.”

 

“The party's been delayed a few centuries until you could attend, Kagome. Suggestion? Let your husband help you through this difficult time; don't shut him out.” He stooped to kiss her forehead before pulling the gate closed behind them. As they headed across the wet pavement, he glared at his car and its suspiciously steamed-up windows. “Aw, hell, are those two making out in the back seat already?”

 

“Chip off the old houshi, eh?” she suggested in a wan attempt at humour.

 

“Sota better not take after Miroku, or I'll be locking Akagane up until she's two hundred and ten,” Shimano declared before thumping on the foggy glass with perhaps a little more force than necessary.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

Second weekof January…

 

“What's all this?” Kagome asked in dismay, eyeing the silken garments in hues of rose and green draped over her bed. She had just emerged from an after-breakfast soak, her wet hair wound up in a towel, to discover her formally-dressed mother laying out a selection of delicately carved wooden boxes on her desk.

 

Kioko turned around, smiling gamely. “It's the victory party today, dear… surely you didn't forget?”

 

“I thought it wasn't supposed to be until tonight!” she exclaimed, her chest immediately tightening.

 

“Lord Sessaki suggested that we also acknowledge your coming-of-age with a belated Seijinshiki party and make a day of it.”

 

Her heart rate accelerating, Kagome gave her mother a panicked look. “Mom, I really don't…”

 

“Oh, yes, you do,” Sota interrupted from the doorway. “There's a whole bunch of people playing hooky today from the Academy, the photographer and caterers are standing by, and Mom made me wear this, so hurry up before I start itching in embarrassing places.” He turned from side to side, showing off wide-legged striped hakama, two layers of immaculate kimono, and to complete the ensemble, a cobalt silk haori adorned with formal crests embroidered in silver thread.

 

Kagome peered at three familiar stylized dogs chasing their tails, but this time they enclosed a six-petalled flower. Noticing her interest, Sota ran his finger over the embroidery. “This is Touma's family crest as the First Sword of the Western Lands. Pretty sharp, huh?” After an encouraging pat on her back, Sota disappeared to help Touma organize Grandpa Higurashi, who had coped remarkably well with the recently-imparted knowledge that Kioko's fiancé was a full-blooded inu-youkai.

 

To her surprise, Suzume arrived a moment after that and set about readying her for the day. The sparrow-youkai chattered away with her mother; it took Kagome another cup of tea to realize that he must have dressed Kioko while she was soaking in the bathtub. Twenty minutes later, she was ready, her hair twisted up by elegant combs and her body cinched into the hand-painted green furisode kimono gifted to her the previous winter by Rin. As Kioko carefully fastened a delicate spray of handmade silk flowers into her coiffure, and then pinned the circular `dogwood' brooch onto the elaborate layered obi while Suzume made sure the sleeves hid her splint, Kagome soberly inspected herself in the mirror and was struck by a morbid thought. I wonder if it's harder being alive and feeling dead, or being dead and forced to live?

 

“Kagome… it would please Yashita greatly if you wore your wedding ring,” Kioko said, offering the silver-toned band on her palm. The young woman decisively shook her head, setting the silk flowers to dancing. “Would you at least wear it as a pendant?” Her mother was plainly distressed, so she acquiesced rather than explain her refusal in front of Suzume. The dresser produced a thin silver chain from one of the jewel cases, and Kagome tucked the impromptu necklace under the layered neckline of her kimono.

 

A beaming Grandfather Higurashi met her at the foot of the stairs, every inch the proud patriarch as he praised her appearance; she dredged up a smile and pinned it on her face, as artificial as the flowers in her hair. Touma appeared, dressed identically to Sota and bearing a long, fluffy white twist in his hands. “What is that?” Kagome demanded, momentarily startled out of her dark musings.

 

He smiled broadly before carefully draping the luxurious fur stole around her shoulders. “Lady Yukihime thought you might like to borrow this; she wore it on her Seijinshiki. Before that, it was Lady Rin's mogi gift from Lord Sessaki.”

 

Kagome fingered the soft fur before glancing around the circle of smiling faces. “I am honoured,” she replied mechanically, shrinking a little more inside.

 

“Let's go! I'm ready for my close-up!” Sota proclaimed, receiving a good-natured swat from his mother.

 

As the group moved towards the foyer and the waiting limousine, Kagome steeled herself to maintain a serene façade through what was sure to be a very trying day. I must do this. It isn't for me, it's for everyone else... my duty, I suppose.

 

There were photography stops along the way at the Meiji Temple and in the Imperial gardens before they arrived at the hotel in time for lunch, where they were joined by the rest of the extended family… who came bearing gifts. From the House of the West came a slender dagger that momentarily gave her pause until she remembered that a `woman's knife' was customary in traditional families. Coupled with the bolts of exquisite silk from Touma's family, there was a clear indication that she was expected to quickly take on the role of a married woman. There was a small awkward moment when Yashita presented her with a finely carved white jade bracelet as her Seijinshiki gift. She felt a pang at creating the artificial distance between them, and couldn't quite meet his eyes when she thanked him. He was very understanding… much more so than she thought she deserved, and the guilt added to the burden on her heart.

 

Smiling on command until her cheeks ached throughout another photo session, she docilely endured constant joking and teasing as she posed and posed again with various guests, including one picture where she and Rin stood between Yashita and Sessaki. The photographer especially liked that image, of the two human Ladies of the West framed by their silver-haired, golden-eyed youkai husbands, and he snapped several versions of it. As Sessaki and Rin moved off, Yashita gave her shoulder a lingering squeeze as he made room for Shimano. The kitsune winked at the hanyou and scooped Kagome into his arms; the photographer chuckled at the unorthodox `family portrait' that resulted. “At least your smile is real in this one,” Shimano murmured in her ear as he handed her over to Yashita with a significant look.

 

Just when she thought she couldn't take it any more, the photographer's assistant was packing up his equipment; she sank into one of the chairs used in the group shots and took several deep, calming breaths. A glass was pressed into her hand; Sota winked as he plopped down beside her. “How are you holding up, Sis?”

 

“I'm glad it's over,” she truthfully replied, discovering that the juice had been mixed with something fizzy as she gratefully sipped the cold liquid.

 

“Over? It's only just starting, Kagome. There's a banquet being set out down the hall, there are speeches planned… and several dozen barrels of saké.” He looked over as she slumped dejectedly. “Buck up, sis. A victory party like this only comes around once every five hundred years.” His eyebrows disappeared into his bangs at her defeated groan.

 

“I want to go home,” she whimpered; he recoiled.

 

“No way! I have no intention of scrubbing any more latrines this year!” he exclaimed as he scuttled off.

 

Later, from her position at the head table, she felt strangely disassociated from the whirl of activity and the laughter, and was even more conscious than before of her inability to detect auras in this mixed group. When the party broke up into less formal groupings, she stayed close to Yashita's side, much to his obvious pleasure. She had drunk quite a bit of saké during the many toasts, and was feeling more than a little tipsy; his arm around her waist supported her as she was re-introduced to the courtiers. Some of the faces were indeed familiar; she was pleased to recognize Lady Ichige as well as several others.

 

The waiters continued to make the rounds with brimming cups, and she had a few more as they circulated around the room, until she had a distinctly `sloshed' sensation. “Yash… I need to sit down,” she whispered unsteadily, clutching the front of his navy blue silk kimono as her balance became suddenly precarious.

 

“Of course, koishii,” he replied, glancing around before leading her to a chair next to an enormous floral arrangement. “Would you like some water?”

 

“Yes, please.” She smiled gratefully up at him; he gently stroked her cheek before tracking down a waiter. Before he could return to her side, he was briefly cornered by two elderly courtiers, and she couldn't help but be amused by the body language he exhibited. He'll have a story when he comes back…

 

“Congratulations!” Rin's bright voice cut through the loud chatter, very near at hand but filtered through the flowers. “Shizuka and Kira are absolutely thrilled, and so are we!”

 

Made unsteady by her mildly inebriated state, Kagome peered around the foliage while Rin burbled excitedly to Kioko. As the Lady of the West moved on to speak to someone else, Touma tenderly tucked a stray hair behind his fiancée's ear before leaning in to murmur something; the softness suffusing Kioko's expression at his words caused a huge lump to rise in Kagome's throat… and she was suddenly overwhelmed by intense feelings of anger and envy.

 

When the water arrived, she snatched a saucer of saké instead and knocked it back in one gulp; as the shot burned its way down her throat, she attempted to rationally analyze the resentment twisting her gut. I'm happy for them… really, I am… but… but… Another shot of liquor followed the first, and then another as the waiter's meticulously groomed eyebrows rose higher and higher into his hairline. I truly am pathetic. I'm angry that someone I dearly love is happy and content, the man she loves at her side… angry that she's having the baby and the wedding while I…

 

By the time Yashita intervened, it was too late to avoid gossip.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

The next morning…

 

For once, Kagome was grateful not to have her enhanced sense of smell and taste, as yet another violent spasm brought up a mouthful of bile. Gasping painfully, she tried to keep her hair out of the way as her body veered wildly between fever-like heat and icy tremours. I'm never drinking that much saké again, no matter how sorry for myself I'm feeling… has anyone ever died from a hangover, I wonder?

 

As she heaved again, clinging desperately to the sides of the toilet bowl and her hair again threatening to join the contents of her stomach in the discoloured water, gentle hands gathered the dark tresses and twisted them away from her face and neck. The handle was turned, and the mess vanished as a cool cloth wiped down her cheeks and forehead.

 

She wasn't expecting her nurse to be amber-eyed and silver-haired; he recoiled a little at her dismayed expression. “What the hell are you doing here?” she croaked.

 

“I'm worried about you, dammit! I don't like having to sit up with my wife all night to make sure she hasn't given herself alcohol poisoning!”

 

Her stomach lurched, providing a brief moment of respite to gather her thoughts. “I didn't ask you to baby-sit,” Kagome rasped, anger rising despite the vigorous prodding of her conscience.

 

“It's my duty, but it was too late to stop you from making a spectacle of yourself,” he snarled, throwing the wet cloth into a basin, sending water slopping across the tiles.

 

She spat into the toilet and yanked her hair out of his grasp. “I didn't want to be there in the first place,” she growled. “Go catch up on your beauty sleep and leave me alone.”

 

In answer, Yashita grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. “Dammit, Kagome… what the fuck's the matter with you?” he thundered, his cheek stripes fraying.

 

“Everything!” she screamed back, startled by the sheer fury boiling through her, overwhelming the little voice protesting in the back of her mind. “I can't deal with your shit right now!”

 

He let her go, raking his claws through his hair. “My shit? This isn't about me, dammit… it's about you! Why are you being so fucking difficult?”

 

Her demeanour went from volcanic to icy in a split second. “Get the hell out, asshole,” she hissed, curling her lips back from her teeth. “If I'm so difficult, go find yourself someone less complicated.”

 

“I could, you know,” Yashita mused in a wintry voice, his eyes gone hard. “Once a soul bond is established with one person, you can screw anyone you like. Didn't you wonder why the fortress has quarters for concubines? My father and all the other clan leaders before him had their Chief Wives and as much official ass on the side as they could handle.”

 

Kagome turned her head, hiding behind her hair. “Don't let me stop you if that's what you want.”

 

“I love you, dammit! Doesn't that mean anything?” When she didn't respond, he growled in frustration, “I waited for you so that we could be together, Kagome… quit fucking pushing me away!”

 

“If you wanted happiness, you shouldn't have picked Kikyo's reincarnation,” she said flatly, the fiery anger dissipating and leaving her shivering. “We seem to be allergic to good karma.”

 

Yashita swore luridly before calming himself with an effort. “How do I help you, Kagome?”

 

“You can't.” Her expression was frighteningly bleak, but it was her next words that shook him to the core. “It would have been better for everyone if I had died that day.”

 

“How can you even think that, never mind say it?” he demanded, truly appalled even as fear snaked into his guts. Kagome remained silent, her face turned away; it was a long time before she spoke.

 

“Because it's the truth,” she said bitterly and refused to say anything more to him or anyone else.

 

She discovered that a largish dose of her grandfather's high-octane saké prevented nightmares, and she made liberal use of this discovery. However, it couldn't loosen the darkness tightening its grip on her heart.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

A week later…

 

Damn, damned, damnable! What the hell? Kagome sat up in bed, her heart pounding irregularly and stared wildly around the darkened room. The blinking red numbers of her clock indicated that the time was just after midnight. I didn't have a nightmare… oh. She concentrated on the leaping rhythm of her heartbeat, added in the time of night and jumped straight to the obvious conclusion as a large, hard lump rose in her throat. He deserves better than a broken doll; I hope… she makes him happy. Her erratic heart finally slowed and she wrapped herself in her blankets, trying to convince herself that this was for the best even as she worried the hair bracelets on her wrist.

 

Ten minutes later, her window slammed open and a tall figure swung into the room. Kagome flicked on the bedside lamp, illuminating a bare-chested and wind-whipped Yashita, dressed for slumber, not seduction, in a pair of baggy fleece trousers. “What…?”

 

“Just shut up,” he snapped, crossing the room in two strides. Hopping onto her bed and seating himself against the wall, he tossed her sword aside and bodily hauled the bewildered young woman into his lap. Pulling her hair out of the way, he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

 

After several long moments of rigid confusion, during which his warm breath shimmered across her collarbone, Kagome cautiously flattened her palm on Yashita's chest and slid her hand up around the back of his neck. “What happened?” she quietly asked.

 

“Fucking nightmare,” he hissed, his lips brushing her skin with every syllable. “It was the Final Battle all over again, except instead of Koga, Naraku impaled you.” His arms tightened, his hands clutching desperately. “He dangled your body in front of me, laughing, and I couldn't do a fucking thing except listen to you scream and watch you bleed…”

 

“Shhh, koibito… I'm here… I'm not hurt,” she soothed, rubbing her cheek against his chest.

 

“You are hurt, but there aren't any visible scars,” he mumbled. “The bastard's won after all, because we aren't together any more.” The pain in his voice touched her heart, but she remained silent. After a while, Yashita loosened his grip enough to pull the blankets up around both of them. “Don't worry… I won't try anything,” he muttered sourly when she tensed.

 

Kagome could have wept at the bitterness in his tone. “I trust you, Inuyasha,” she protested.

 

“No, you don't. You haven't trusted me with anything important since you came through the well,” he snarled. “Just go to sleep, bitch.” She died a little more inside, but she couldn't bring herself to argue since he spoke the bald truth. Lying quietly in his lap, his heartbeat under her ear, she fell into a restless sleep.

 

He was gone when she woke up, and her heart ached so badly that saké barely numbed the pain.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

The wedding of Kioko Higurashi and Touma Kenjou was the social occasion of the late winter, and invitations were highly coveted. Despite the short notice, or perhaps because of it, preparations went from zero to a fever pitch only a couple of days after the victory party. Kagome wanted to run away and hide, but couldn't very well deny her assistance to her mother, who was coping well with her new role but not so much the early stages of her pregnancy.

 

“I don't remember feeling this tired when I had you and Sota,” Kioko sighed at one point, fanning her flushed cheeks after an afternoon with Lady Shizuka and Toku-san's catering staff.

 

“What did you expect at your age?” Kagome tactlessly pointed out, clearing away a tray of tea cups. “You should be anticipating grandchildren, not having another baby.”

 

Her daughter's sharp tone gave Kioko pause. “Kagome, do you resent the fact that I'm pregnant? The child will be your half-brother or sister… I thought… I hoped that you'd be happy for me.”

 

The young woman managed a small, entirely false smile. “Of course I'm happy, Mom. How could you think I'm not?” She turned away, missing both the hurt and concern in Kioko's eyes.

 

One small discovery during the lead-up to the wedding had made supporting her burgeoning saké habit much easier. Kagome was surprised and delighted to find out that her Celestial Bodyguard gig came with a generous salary; her personal bank account was comfortably padded with a significant amount of yen, so she no longer needed to skulk around the storage shed, siphoning off her grandfather's private supply. She had felt extremely exposed when she'd purchased her own bottle in a neighbourhood store several stops away from the shrine on the subway line, but it became easier after that; the owner even greeted her as a regular after the third visit in as many weeks.

 

If she noticed how one or two small glasses of the potent liquor weren't always enough to numb the pain, she didn't dare question herself about her growing dependence. Instead, she solemnly toasted the grave markers of her friends as she sat in their silent company at the end of each day, dwelling in the regrets of the past.

 

Yashita kept his distance, and she convinced herself that her self-medication remained undetected.

 

She no longer dreamed; the oblivion she welcomed made sure of that.

 

Ж Ж Ж Ж Ж

 

“Will you support the Western House, or honour your new step-father by wearing his colours?” an ebullient Suzume asked, gesturing to the riot of silken garments brightening the drab conference room converted into a dressing room on the sixteenth floor of the Tokyo Hilton. Kioko Higurashi was already down the hall, being tended to by a bevy of retainers, but Kagome was relieved to find herself in Suzume's capable hands.

 

“I don't know the protocol,” she hedged, looking over the gorgeous array of silken garments. “Which would be more appropriate?”

 

“I would suggest Touma-san's colours,” he declared. “The gesture will greatly please his family.” When she nodded, he beamed and set to work.

 

“What is my mother wearing?” Kagome asked, twirling the white jade bracelet on her wrist while watching Suzume bustle about the room, gathering under-kimono and accessories.

 

“As you may have noticed, youkai fashions do not necessarily pay any attention to human opinions; thus Lady Kioko will wear five layers of white silk to indicate her `death' as a Higurashi and her `rebirth' as a Kenjou, even though she is not a virgin bride. Instead of red or white, her uchikake is cobalt blue embroidered with golden cranes and white cherry blossoms, lined in scarlet; it once belonged to Kira-san's lady mother.”

 

“Sounds lovely,” Kagome mumbled, eyeing a vibrant purple kimono embroidered in silver and black… and experienced a sharp pang that her sword was not at her side.

 

Suzume appeared not to notice. “They'll have to be careful not to tie her obi too tightly… can't put pressure on her precious passenger!” He proudly displayed a stunning robe decorated with deep red peonies against a cobalt blue background, the crests embroidered with golden thread and the leaves shadowed in a dark bronze that reminded her of a certain hanyou's eyes when he was feeling particularly intense.

 

“It's very beautiful,” she said honestly, and Suzume chuckled.

 

“This belonged to Shizuka-san; she will be highly pleased.” Kagome listened to the dresser's gossip about the court and its varied denizens as Suzume pinned up her hair and arranged the many colourful layers of silk on her slender frame; however, he made no comment about the ring dangling from a thin chain around her neck instead of adorning her finger. She discovered that the ceremony would incorporate both Shinto and Buddhist elements; Kagome was privately wondering what her grandfather would make of that when Suzume also imparted the information that water would be substituted for saké during the cup-sharing ritual. “Your lady mother's stomach is quite delicate, or so I'm told; it wouldn't do for the bride to become ill, as that would risk bad luck.”

 

He fussed with the multi-layered sleeves until he was satisfied that they hung properly. “It must feel so much better now that your finger has healed,” he said. A selection of elegant hair ornaments was carefully added to her coiffure, and he stepped back to admire his handiwork. “Beautiful… now for the final touch.” The `dogwood' brooch was fastened to her obi, tabi and lacquered zori slipped onto her feet, and she was pronounced ready to join the party.

 

“Kagome! Are you ready?” Kioko called from the doorway, her voice a tad too shrill, and Kagome couldn't help but admire the beautiful kimono adorning the flushed and excited woman.

 

“Do you have your fan?” Kagome asked, setting off a flurry amongst the twittering maids as two rushed off to fetch the essential accessory. “You look gorgeous, Mom.” Bowing deeply, she then carefully embraced her mother with a mind to avoiding eye-removal by hair ornament. When attention was then focussed on the placement of the heretofore missing fan in her mother's obi, she took a deep breath and steeled herself to at least give the illusion of calm.

 

Sota met them outside the doorway of the main hall; he smiled broadly at his mother and bowed, then moved in for a kiss. While the maids scurried off, giggling behind their hands at the handsome youth, he caught Kagome's elbow and pulled her aside. “Stay clear of the saké, Sis,” he warned, his mouth compressed into a tight, disapproving line.

 

Growling, she snatched back her arm and gave him a poisonous look. “I won't puke on anyone, I promise,” she hissed. The encounter set the tone for the afternoon; she noticed that she was being subtly intimidated by various members of the House of the West, especially when she was seated between her gruff grandfather and a bubbly Shizuka… right across from a stony-eyed Sessaki. Kagome bit her lip in preference to baring her teeth at the stern taiyoukai, bobbed her head and then proceeded to ignore him while the hall filled. Yashita slid into the seat next to Rin on the other side just before the ceremony started; she acknowledged him with a small bow and a smaller smile. He returned the first but not the second, his expression as impassive as his brother's.

 

Sota flanked their blushing mother while Kira stood at Touma's side, and the ceremony commenced. Kagome listened with half an ear, conscious of Yashita's intense scrutiny, and made a split-second decision to stay out of trouble for his sake. This may be the only wedding the Western House sees involving a female Higurashi, so I'll do my part to make sure the only one they talk about afterward is Mom, not her disgrace of a daughter.

 

Her resolve lasted until the priest intoned a blessing while looping a strand of prayer beads around Kioko's and Touma's joined hands. Her imagination supplied an image of Miroku and Sango having the same thing done for them, so far in the past and so far out of reach, brought tears to her eyes and she barely stifled a sob as loneliness overwhelmed her. It's too painful… I can't bear it…

 

Later in the reception, after the saké barrel was breached but before Kagome could screw up enough courage to defy her brother's admonition and her husband's disapproval, she decided she needed some air. The hall was loud, boisterous and too hot for multiple layers of heavy silk; she slipped out when a parade of waiters marched in. Sighing deeply and rubbing her temples as she wandered down the corridor with her eyes half-closed, she nearly bumped into a grey-suited wall.

 

“Oh! Excuse me,” she muttered, identifying one of Rin's twin bodyguards, but unable to figure out which of the two was now blocking her path.

 

“Are you well, Lady Kagome?” the tall, dark-haired demon solicitously inquired.

 

She flashed a weak smile. “I've been better.”

 

“Would you perhaps like to step outside for a moment or two? The ventilation system seems somewhat inadequate today.”

 

“That would be most appreciated,” she replied gratefully. He bowed and offered his arm; Kagome gathered up the trailing hem of her elaborate over-kimono and rested her fingers on the back of his hand in a very lady-like manner as he led her down the hallway to the elevators.

 

Outside, under the porte-cochere, she glanced speculatively at an idling taxi, rapidly calculating how much trouble she'd be in if she skipped off home to drown her sorrows in peace and quiet. As if reading her mind, her demonic escort casually stepped into her line of sight, and she turned away just as a gleaming black limousine purred to a stop at the curb; the taxi scuttled further along the pavement, as if afraid of the sleek steel monster. Kagome prepared to move out of the way of the undoubtedly rich and famous passengers, but her elbow was firmly grasped.

 

“I took the liberty of requesting transportation for you, Lady Kagome; you really don't look well at all,” the guardsman said, bustling her across the sidewalk and into the rear door of the limo. From somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled the old adage, `if it seems too good to be true, it probably is', but she was far too relieved to examine the gift horse's mouth.

 

As soon as she slid across the rich leather seat and exhaled in relief, she wished she had checked the creature's teeth a little more closely.

 

“Well, young lady… you're making one hell of a mess of your life, and it has to stop,” said a brusque voice.

 

Kagome swallowed hard. “Momiji-san.”

 

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