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From the passenger seat of the massive black truck, safe and still for the first time in what felt like forever, Kagome stared wide-eyed out the window as they rumbled through the hollowed-out streets. Inuyasha drove slowly, weaving carefully between rusted-out cars, overturned dumpsters, and the bloated corpses of animals left to decay where they’d fallen. The occasional moan of a stray roamer echoed down concrete corridors, bouncing between buildings like a cruel reminder that nothing here was truly silent. Not anymore.

It was heartbreak in slow motion. Once, this had been a thriving metropolis. Bright lights, busy sidewalks, street vendors selling their wares, the consistent, reassuring thrum of life. Now, it was a smothered, colorless ghost town, a twisted reflection of what it used to be. Storefronts gaped open with shattered glass for teeth, mannequins sprawled in broken windows like casualties of war. Smoke stains marred the walls of buildings that had half-collapsed under their own weight, while trees, once decorative and vivid green with the vibrancy of life, now appeared a twisted, lifeless brown mesh of decaying limbs void of precious oxygen. Sidewalks were choked with every matter of trash, blood stains old and new seemed to cover every single available inch of pavement, and the stench was prevalent above all else—of rot, mildew, old gasoline, and things left too long to die.

Kagome felt like the oxygen had been sucked clean out of her lungs and she felt her chest constrict as a very real physical pang of pain tugged at her heartstrings. God, it was awful. Never had she thought her beloved, beautiful city would ever be reduced to this.

Somewhere ahead, a small herd of roamers fed on a mangled deer, their slurping and groaning loud enough to be heard through the truck’s windows. Kagome closed her eyes. The sound burrowed into her ears and made her stomach twist.

She’d never had the chance to look before. There was never time—not when she was running, hiding, bleeding. But now, with nothing to do but sit and breathe, it was like the weight of the world finally settled on her chest.

She didn't even realize she’d gone quiet until Inuyasha’s voice cut through the hum of the engine.

“Kagome.”

Kagome blinked open her eyes at the sound of his voice, pulled from the haze of decay outside the window. Sucking in a steadying breath, she shook her head once and directed her attention toward him. Inuyasha didn’t look at her right away, keeping his eyes on the road, expression unreadable with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually across the top.

“Yes?” she asked, her voice a little breathy. She cleared her throat.

He glanced at her briefly then turned his gaze forward again. “Good?”

“I…yeah,” Kagome said on sigh and turned forward again to gaze at the surroundings through the windshield. “It’s just…I’ve never really seen it like this. Before, I was always running. Always hiding. Too scared to look up, too tired to even care where I was as long as it wasn’t there.” Her voice hitched a little. “But now I can finally just…see. And it’s…awful. Everything’s just gone.”

She trailed off, lips pressing together as she swallowed thickly. Her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her seatbelt, knuckles going white.

“I grew up here,” she whispered. “This city used to be so alive. I’d take the train to work, stop for coffee on the way home. My little brother used to beg for those obnoxious frosted donuts from the corner bakery every Saturday, and my mom always gave in, even though she said they were too sweet.” She let out a quiet laugh that didn’t quite sound like one. “Now there’s blood on the sidewalks. And no one left to sweep it away.”

For a while, Inuyasha didn’t say anything. He just kept driving, navigating the narrow path between wreckage and rot like he’d done it a hundred times before. Maybe he had. Eventually, though, he gave a quiet grunt.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “I get it.”

Kagome looked at him, a little surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

“I used to hate cities,” he muttered. “Too loud. Too many people. Now I miss the noise.”

There was a beat of silence between them. It wasn’t awkward—it was shared. A quiet, mutual mourning.

Then Inuyasha glanced her way briefly and jerked his chin toward the dash.

“Tell me about your family.”

Kagome blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You said you grew up here.” He shrugged. “Tell me about it. Your family.”

She hesitated, then smiled faintly. She leaned back in her seat, letting the memories come.

“Well, there’s my little brother, Souta. He’s fifteen, has a fondness for pulling pranks. Total video game junkie, but sweet. Gets way too excited over fireworks and swears someday he’ll be a professional YouTuber.” Her throat tightened at the mental image of her younger brother grinning impishly at her, the blue headset a permeant fixture to his head and game controller in his hand. She took a moment to collect herself, and then continued.

“My grandpa’s this super traditional old man. He ran a shrine and tried to ward off every cold I got with spells and herbs. Swore by them. And my mom…” She smiled even as the prick of tears burned the back of her eyes. “She’s amazing. Smart, gentle. She was the backbone of our family after my dad passed away, and I just know now she’s doing the same.”

Inuyasha didn’t respond, but Kagome could feel his attention on her. They lapsed into comfortable silence for a minute or two, Kagome lost in thought, her half-demon companion digesting her words.

“Do you have any family?” she asked gently, breaking the silence.

His jaw twitched. He didn’t answer right away.

“Got a bastard of a half-brother,” he finally said, voice tight. “Same dad, different moms. Hates me. Feeling’s mutual. As for my parents, no idea. Haven’t seen ’em since everything went to hell.”

Kagome frowned and her hand twitched in her lap as if it wanted to reach out and comfort him. “I’m sorry. Did something happen to separate you?”

Inuyasha’s jaw tightened and his ears flattened. “You can say that.”

It wasn’t hard to notice the strain in his voice as he grit out those four words and Kagome didn’t have to be a genius to know that something must have happened. As much as she wanted to ask about it, she had a feeling he’d be less than agreeable to sharing, so she stamped her curiosity down and nodded once.

“I’m sorry,” she offered gently, voice soft. She opened her mouth to say more, but couldn’t find the words, so she didn’t and bit her lip.

He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Don’t be.”

Silence once more reigned between them, only broken by the groans and croaks of the undead around them accompanied by the huge tires rolling over debris and other things that crunched beneath the rubber. Kagome didn’t want to think about what made those particularly sounds too closely.

“We’re here,” Inuyasha announced five minutes later and the sight that greeted her had her mouth dropping open and her eyes to go wide with barely concealed awe.

The dojo loomed ahead, rising like a survivor from the grave, surrounded on all sides by a wall of desperation and ingenuity. Massive chunks of concrete, likely scavenged from fallen buildings, had been hauled upright and packed tight, forming a crude but effective barrier around the entire property. Thick tree trunks, sharpened into brutal stakes, jutted out from the wall at odd angles like the spines of a monstrous creature, angled outward to catch and impale anything too stupid or slow to avoid them. Patches of mismatched fencing – chain link, wrought iron, even wire mesh – filled in the gaps. The whole place looked like it had been Frankensteined together with whatever could be found.

It was very impressive and Kagome was suddenly very glad Inuyasha had found her. Because if this was what he’d constructed from the ruins around them, her chances of survival had just increased exponentially. She knew beforehand that her probability of staying alive gone up since meeting him, but now she was doubly sure she’d won the survival jackpot. Because Christ.

Her eyes were draws to movement on the roof. A figure stood there, tall and sharp against the gray skyline, a rifle slung casually over one shoulder. The figure lifted a hand in greeting, two fingers to the temple in a lazy salute. She spotted a brown tail swaying behind him and determined he was of demon nature. Not surprising, given that Inuyasha was half-demon.

“That’s Cane,” Inuyasha muttered as he eased the truck to a stop just outside the massive front gate. “Don’t let him charm you. He’s an asshole.”

Kagome blinked. “What kind of name is—”

The gate groaned to life, splitting down the middle and opening just wide enough for the truck to crawl through. Kagome twisted in her seat, watching as it creaked closed again behind them. A flash of movement caught her eye. A teenager, maybe fifteen or sixteen, with shaggy dark hair and a long, jagged scar across one cheek, was locking it shut with practiced ease. His clothing was patchwork but clean, and strapped to his hip was—

“Is that a sickle?” she whispered, gawking.

Inuyasha snorted. “Yeah. That’s Kid. Don’t ask him about it unless you want a history lesson and a live demo.”

They rolled behind the building, the truck crunching over gravel and cracked pavement, and as soon as they stopped, the rear door to the dojo swung open.

Out stepped two figures—redheads, both. One had a messy mop of auburn hair and a cocky grin that belonged on a cartoon fox. The other had her long hair tied back in a thick braid, her emerald eyes sharp and assessing as she looked the truck over.

Inuyasha parked and cut the engine. “Iris. Scout,” he called as he hopped out. “Truck’s loaded. I want it emptied before nightfall.”

“You got it, boss man,” the grinning boy – Scout – replied, already moving to the back. “You bring anything fun, or just more beans and bullets?”

“I’ll let you dig through it and find out.”

Without waiting for pleasantries, Inuyasha rounded the truck and opened Kagome’s door, helping her down with the same practiced ease he always showed, as if lifting her was second nature by now. She wasn’t sure if that made her flustered or comforted.

“C’mon,” he said. “I’ll introduce everyone later. Monk comes first.”

Kagome followed, her boots crunching on broken tile and dusty mats as they stepped into the dojo. The inside was cleaner than she expected – organized chaos, but clearly lived-in. Mats had been rolled out. Crates were stacked like furniture. Clotheslines were strung between beams overhead. It was makeshift and weirdly homey.

She stuck close behind Inuyasha, trying not to let her nerves show. These people were strangers, this place was foreign, and though it felt safer than anything had in weeks, her heart was still pounding like it hadn’t gotten the memo.

They ducked through a wide archway, past shelves of scavenged supplies, and into what must’ve once been the training floor. One corner had been curtained off with thick canvas and tarp to form a rough room. Inuyasha tugged the curtain aside and Kagome caught her first glimpse of Miroku, aka, Monk.

He was pale, shirtless, and propped up on a nest of old cushions. The bandage on his upper arm was soaked through with red, but his eyes still sparkled with mischief.

“Well,” he drawled weakly, lips curling. “If I’d known I’d get house calls from a lovely woman, I might’ve gotten stabbed sooner.”

“Don’t make me hit you,” Sango muttered from his bedside, but the relief in her voice was unmistakable.

Kagome blinked as she took in the tough, dark-haired woman crouched beside him, gently mopping sweat from his brow. Her eyes met Kagome’s and immediately softened.

“You must be Kagome,” Sango said. “Thank you for coming.”

Kagome smiled nervously. “Of course. I—well, I wanted to help.”

Inuyasha knelt beside Miroku, already pulling supplies from his pack and inspecting the wound.

“It’s deep,” he muttered. “Needs stitches.”

Kagome deliberately for only a second before stepping forward and kneeling beside him. “Can I help?”

He glanced at her, searching her expression. Whatever he saw must’ve convinced him, because he handed her a bottle of antiseptic and a clean rag. Wordlessly Kagome positioned herself opposite him and readied the antiseptic.

Miroku gave her a wink, though it was tired and a little strained, and she shot him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry I’m not a real nurse,” she muttered, rolling up her sleeves.

“Pfft,” Miroku said, grimacing as he adjusted himself slightly. “If you’ve got steady hands and a gentle touch, you’re better than half the medics I’ve had.”

Sango snorted softly, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. “He says that now. Let’s see how he feels in five minutes.”

Bracing herself, Kagome carefully dabbed around the edges of the wound as Inuyasha positioned the curved needle and thick black thread. Miroku hissed but didn’t pull away. Kagome bit her lip, trying not to flinch at the gash – angry and red, but thankfully not infected.

“Hold him steady,” Inuyasha murmured. Kagome nodded, bracing Miroku’s uninjured arm and offering quiet reassurances as the first stitch went in. Sango assisted, keeping one hand on his shoulder and bracing downward while the other clutched his hand, a silent anchor.

The room was quiet except for the faint clink of tools and Miroku’s sharp breaths. Kagome focused on her task, wiping away blood, applying pressure where needed, fetching clean gauze when Inuyasha asked for it. Her hands moved with surprising confidence, and though she’d never done anything like this before, it felt…natural. Not easy – far from it – but right.

She wasn’t running. She wasn’t hiding. She was helping.

It wasn’t until Inuyasha tied off the last stitch and reached for the bandage wrap that Kagome realized she hadn’t looked away once.

“Nicely done,” he said, almost too casually, but the glance he shot her was warm, faintly approving. “Didn’t flinch.”

Kagome blinked, then smiled, a small, proud thing that bloomed slow across her face. “Neither did you.”

“Pfft,” Miroku muttered, sinking back into the cushions. “Speak for yourselves. I flinched plenty.”

“You’re fine,” Sango murmured, brushing her hand over his now-cleaned arm. “But seriously. Thank you,” she said, turning to Kagome. “That could’ve gone a lot worse without your help.”

Kagome waved a hand, still flustered. “It was nothing, really.”

“No,” Sango said firmly. “It wasn’t nothing. You’ve got a steady hand, and you didn’t panic. That means something out here.”

Miroku raised a hand and theatrically placed it over his heart. “I officially bestow upon you the honorary title of Field Medic, Second Class.”

“You don’t have the authority to do that,” Sango deadpanned, though the smile flirting with her lips bespoke of her relief.

“In my heart, I do.”

Kagome laughed for the first time in what felt like decades. A real one this time, light and clear, the tension easing from her shoulders. She sat back and looked at her bloodied hands, her smeared sleeves, and for the first time in days, felt something other than fear or exhaustion.

She felt useful.

Inuyasha gave her a nod and stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “You did good,” he said, almost too low to hear, but she caught it.

She smiled up at him. “Thanks. You weren’t too bad yourself.”

Sango rolled her eyes. “You two need a room already?”

Kagome choked. Inuyasha muttered something unintelligible.

Miroku, ever the opportunist, waggled his eyebrows. “I have a room…”

“Shut up and sleep, you lech.”

“Only if you join me, Sango, my sweet.”

Sango cast Inuyasha a pleading look. “Can I kill him? Please?”

“And waste all those medical supplies we just used on him?” Inuyasha snorted his opinion of that and ducked out of the “room” without another word.

Kagome blinked after him, amused despite herself. Though his words suggested otherwise, she knew he cared for his friends. It was endearing and a fond smile tilted her lips upward.

Standing, Kagome exchanged a brief farewell with Sango and left her with the already dozing-off Miroku. She found Inuyasha standing not too far away, arms crossed and though he wasn’t looking at her, she knew he knew she was there by the way his ears flicked toward her.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. “Explore a little if you want. I gotta go check in with Cane and Kid, see if anything’s changed since this morning. Probably do some more boss-level, he-man survivalist shit while I’m at it.”

Kagome blinked, then snorted. “Your words, not mine.”

He flashed a smirk and disappeared through the canvas flap.

Left to her own devices, Kagome wandered slowly through the main dojo floor, her gaze roving from one corner to the next. It was pretty empty on the dojo floor, as the inhabitants were all busy doing something or other. Empty, but still filled with the comforting sounds of a place lived in. She could hear Iris and Scout talking as they unloaded the truck, heard heavy footsteps above her no doubt from Cane striding around on the roof, and the low rumble of Inuyasha’s voice as he checked in with him.

She found an unoccupied benched pushed up against the far well and settled down, unconsciously swinging her legs up to sit cross-legged and tucking her hands into the cradle of her lap. With nothing to do, her mind wandered, and unsurprisingly headed in the direction of her family and their wellbeing.

Her chest ached. Were they safe? Were they alive? Were they holed up somewhere similar, with people protecting them with resources and supplies or were they stuck in some hovel with minimal food, water, and protection? God, the thought hurt and she grimaced. She felt a stab of guilt. Here she was, perfectly safe and healthy – save for a gunshot wound that was already healing thanks to her half-demon savior – when for all she knew her family could be struggling to survive, or hurt, or worse and she couldn’t do anything about it.

I will see them again, Kagome promised to herself, determination replacing the guilt. She refused to believe they were dea—not alive. And with Inuyasha’s help, she’d find them and her family would be whole once more. She swallowed hard and blinked back the heat in her eyes.

A soft hum pulled her attention toward a quiet corner of the main hall. Sitting on the floor cross-legged, a young girl maybe nine or ten was mending clothes with careful stitches, her tongue poking out in concentration. A tiny toad-like demon sat beside her, arms folded, looking cranky as hell.

“Don’t stretch the seams, you simple child!” he barked, gesturing with his tiny staff. “Do it right or don’t do it at all!”

The girl didn’t even flinch. She hummed louder, clearly ignoring the toad.

Kagome stared, curious and a little baffled. When the girl looked up and saw her, she offered a bright smile of greeting, then returned to her sewing like Kagome wasn’t a stranger at all.

The toad demon looked Kagome over, sniffed dramatically, and turned up his nose.

Kagome raised an eyebrow. Well then.

For a while she watched the two quietly since there wasn’t much else to look at, letting the warmth of the dojo and the sounds seemed into her bones and relax the tenseness her muscles have been holding onto for the last half hour.

It didn’t take long for someone to approach.

“Hiya!”

Kagome startled as a teenage boy flopped down beside her. Wild auburn hair stuck out in every direction, freckles dusted his nose, and his blue-green eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I’m Scout,” he said, then grinned wider. “But technically Shippou. Wanna see something cool?”

Before she could respond, there was a puff of smoke, and then a tiny, fluffy fox demon sat where the boy had been, tail flicking proudly.

Kagome’s eyes widened and then she beamed. “Oh my god, you’re adorable.”

Shippou preened, clearly delighted, and was just starting to launch into a dramatic retelling of how many times he’d saved Inuyasha’s ass when—

“Shippou.”

A sharp voice cut through his performance. A red-haired young woman with striking green eyes stalked over, hands on her hips.

“Back to work.”

“Ugh, fine!” Shippou groaned as he poofed back into his teenage form and dragged himself away, shooting Kagome a jaunty wave as he went.

“That’s Scout for you,” the woman said, more amused than irritated. “I’m Ayame. Iris while outside. Welcome to the dojo.”

Kagome smiled. “Thanks. Everyone’s…been really nice.”

“I’d hope so,” Iris said. “We don’t keep jerks around.” With a nod and a quick squeeze to Kagome’s shoulder, she turned and strode off toward the back.

A few minutes later, a dark-haired teenager with quiet eyes and a guarded but kind demeanor approached.

“You must be the one Ash picked up,” he said. “I’m Kohaku, or Kid. Sango’s my sister.”

Kagome tilted her head. “I see the resemblance,” she said with a smile and he returned it, small but genuine, before giving a quick nod and heading off.

She barely had time to breathe before the air shifted. Swaggered.

A tall, lean man with wind-tossed black hair and glimmering blue eyes sauntered up, practically radiating charm. He didn’t bother with an introduction before grabbing Kagome’s hands in his.

“Well hello,” he purred. “You must be the angel the mutt stumbled across. Damn, no wonder he’s in such a mood lately. I’m Cane, but you can call me Kouga.”

Kagome’s eyes widened, taken aback. “Uh—”

“You ever need anything,” none other than who Kagome surmised must be Cane continued, grinning. “Anything, you come find me, sweetheart.”

Before she could figure out whether to laugh or run, a growl sliced through the air.

“Hands. Off.”

Kouga turned, not letting go. Inuyasha stood a few feet away, arms crossed, amber eyes narrowed to slits and a scowl firmly planted on his face.

Kagome glanced between them, and oh yeah. The testosterone was thick.

They bickered like old rivals, trading jabs and insults until Kouga shrugged, dropped her hands with a wink, and ambled off like nothing happened.

“See you later, beautiful.”

Kagome blinked, bewildered. “Um…”

“Damn wolf,” Inuyasha muttered, glaring after him. “He better fucking behave.”

She bit her lip to hide her amusement and wisely chose not to say anything about his sudden mood change. “Hi?”

Inuyasha grumbled something under his breath, sighed, then finally turned toward her. “You settling in okay?”

She shrugged. “For the most part. Still trying to wrap my head around everything, y’know?”

He nodded. “Understandable. You meet everyone?”

“They’ve all introduced themselves,” she said softly. “They’re really kind. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Pains in my ass. All of ‘em. You’ll change your mind soon enough.”

Kagome chuckled and her smile was warm, knowing. “But you love them.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

They talked for a while longer. Nothing deep, just easy, natural banter. Eventually Inuyasha left to handle something else, confident she was in good hands. Kagome suspected he wasn’t one to lounge around, always needing to do something to stay busy. She understood. Being busy meant you weren’t lost in thoughts one would rather not dwell on.

Time passed. Kagome chatted with Scout again, shared a few words with Kid and Iris, even got a wave from the girl called Fawn. But when Sango and Iris returned, it was with gifts.

“Toiletries,” Sango announced, holding up a bag like a prize. “Courtesy of Ash’s latest haul.”

“And clothes!” Iris added. “Also, want a hot shower?”

Kagome blinked. “You have hot water?”

They both grinned. “Oh, girl. You’re in for a treat.”

Ten minutes later Kagome stood beneath the steaming water, head tipped back and eyes closed in pure, unadulterated bliss. God, but it must have been months since she’d been able to have a real shower, with hot water, soap, and shampoo. She was eternally grateful that Iris and Sango didn’t have any problems sharing the newly found stash of toiletries and she made a mental note to thank them, like, a hundred times over for their generosity.

After fifteen or so minutes – though she’d wanted to stay longer, she didn’t want to use up all the precious hot water – Kagome stepped out of the locker room shower stall and for the first time in forever, she felt clean. Not just physically, but inside too. Sango and Iris had occupied the other showers and together they’d joked and laughed, shared stories, gushed about Scout’s cute tails and Kouga’s ego, and reveled in the simple magic of female company. Afterward, fresh clothes clinging to damp skin – a simple gray t-shirt and black leggings – Kagome stepped into the hallway and stretched languidly. A yawn came out of nowhere and it left Kagome blinking.

Inuyasha appeared in front of her and cocked a brow. She blinked again and offered a tired smile.

“Come on,” he said gruffly. “You need sleep.”

He led her to a door off the hallway and opened it. Inside was what looked like an old office, converted to a living space. A desk sat near the back wall, bookshelves crammed with salvaged odds and ends, a beat-up orange sofa that had definitely seen better days folded out into a bed with a folded-up blanket at the foot and some pillows. A pleasant scent of cedar hung in the air and Kagome breathed it in deeply.

“This is mine,” he muttered. “Only place with a working lock. You can crash here till we clear a space for you.”

Kagome stepped in slowly. “You don’t mind?”

“If I minded, I wouldn’t offer.”

She smiled faintly and sat on the edge of the bed. “Thanks.”

Gratefully she lied down and wiggled around until she got comfortable. The blanket settled over her a second later and she smiled up at the half-demon as he tucked it around her, her eyes already drifting close. She sighed, whispered a breathy goodnight, and relaxed.

She was out in seconds.

Inuyasha lingered a moment longer, watching her chest rise and fall in the faint light. Something pulled tight in his chest again, strange but not particularly unwelcoming. He liked this, he decided. Liked having in her his space. Liked how peaceful she looked, curled up on the thin, spring mattress of the sofa-bed, blanket tucked close around her, confident of her safety.

And well didn’t that give him all the warm fuzzies. Even though he’d known her for almost a week now, it still astounded him that Kagome trusted him so easily to keep her safe, to protect her from the ugliness outside these walls. She’d been dealt a pretty shitty hand, and he’d be a lying bastard if he said he wasn’t glad he’d made the decision to take her in. She was already fitting in, getting along great with Sango and Ayame, the runt seemed to like her to since he couldn’t stop talking about her, and even soft-spoken Kohaku mentioned that she seemed like a good addition after Sango explained she’d helped treat Miroku’s wound.

Yeah. He’d made the right decision. And was glad everyone else agreed on that, too.

With a grunt, and one last lingering look toward the sleeping woman, he turned and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

He had work to do. Plans to make. And he needed to talk to the others about training Kagome after her bullet wound was fully healed. He was confident the girls would take part in it, as well as Miroku when he was recovered from his own injury. And even before he was recovered, he was excellent at explaining maneuvers and tactics in ways that were easily understood. It was what made him a great trainer when the dojo had still been in operation, before the world went to shit.

As for the others, Kouga can piss right the hell off, no way was he getting anywhere near Kagome if he had something to say about it. And while Shippou and Kohaku could hold their own when the time called for it, they were still kids. But that was fine. With the four of them – Miroku, Sango, Ayame, and himself of course – he was confident they’d whip Kagome into shape in no time and soon she’d be out patrolling with the lot of them, collecting supplies, downing zombies like it was her second job, and contributing to the safety and protection of their makeshift little family.

Everything had happened so fast. Kagome’s mind was a whirlwind of activity, her muscles tense with uncertainty, and all too aware of the warmth pressed against her back. Even through the suikan he’d given her, she could still feel how firm his chest was, how warm his thighs were bracketing her own on either side. Though unfamiliar, it was definitely not unwelcome, and her face was flushed from more than just the wind.

The scent of smoke faded with distance. The night streaked past them, and soon enough the dirt road they were traveling gradually turned into stone, noted by the clap of copious amounts of hooves striking it. Moments later, the darkness of the night was replaced by something else entirely.

Light.

As they crested a final hill, the capital unfolded before them like a dream painted in gold and flame. Glowing lanterns lit the night in hues of amber and crimson. Towering buildings and winding streets sprawled like a maze of opulence and motion. She could hear the clamor of a hundred voices: laughter, haggling, music. The scents — roasted meats, spices, incense — twisted through the air with dizzying complexity.

Sha slowed Entei into a walk, his soldiers following suit as they traversed the streets. People stared in awe as they passed, children pointing, men and woman waving, and some of them bowing. Kagome’s heart was pounding too loudly in her ears for her to hear their exclamations.

Kagome’s breath caught. Her fingers dug unconsciously into Sha’s arm as her head twisted this way and that, taking everything in with huge midnight eyes. Was this…was this the royal city? Why on earth had he taken them here?

“Sha?” she questioned, her voice breathy.

He didn’t speak.

Wordlessly he led the way to the gates and they opened for him without question. The guards snapped to attention and saluted. His men – bloodied, tired, some still reeking of smoke – peeled off in formation at his barked command.

“Return to your quarters. Tend your wounds, get some much deserved rest. I’ll summon you at first light.”

Miroku pulled ahead with Sango, who looked reluctant as she stared over her shoulder at Kagome, but allowed herself to be guided away with a final, worried glance. Kagome watched her go with growing trepidation, her heart pounding.

Sha urged the demon horse forward. The path ahead veered, and he guided Entei into a quiet, flower-laced courtyard tucked beneath a lattice of cherry trees. The silence felt sacred. The noise of the city dimmed behind them.

Kagome slid from the massive horse’s back with his help, her legs trembling as she touched solid ground. She looked up at him, blue eyes beseeching, brow furrowed in timid confusion. “Sha—what’s going on? I don’t understand.”

Entei, free from his passengers, snorted once and trotted a little ways away before taking off with a great leap, disappearing into the night sky.

Sha didn’t answer. His golden eyes scanned the courtyard, sharp and alert, before he grabbed her hand and led her toward an entrance she hadn’t noticed before. Kagome bit her lip and had no choice but to follow, his silence unnerving.

But she still trusted him, despite everything, so she made no protest.

The doors they passed through weren’t simple wood—they were carved, lacquered, inlaid with gold. The corridors were too polished, too pristine. Guards bowed. Servants stepped aside. Kagome’s trepidation grew as did her suspicions. She tossed her savior a glance, visibly shaken.

And still, Sha said nothing.

Her pulse raced.

When he finally stopped, it was before an imposing set of doors with the crest of a silver dog—fangs bared, head raised toward the moon.

“Sha,” she whispered, “please. Just tell me—”

He opened the door.

Warmth and light spilled out—soft lanterns glowing against crimson walls and rich tapestries. A fire crackled in the hearth. It smelled like sandalwood and something older, something royal. Kagome’s feet sank into plush rugs as he guided her inside.

It was a private room.

No…private quarters.

She turned to him, heart in her throat. “Why…are we here?”

For the first time since they arrived, he faced her fully. “You’re safe,” he said quietly. “You’ll stay here tonight. No one will bother you.”

Before she could ask more, he stepped to the side and whistled once. A moment later, three women entered—kind-faced, graceful, dressed in simple servant robes.

“She’ll need a bath,” Sha told them, his voice low but firm. “Clean clothes. Food. Whatever she wants, make it happen.”

The maids bowed in unison.

Kagome stared at him. Her lips parted, but the words caught in her throat.

“I’ll be back soon,” he added, gentler now. “Wait for me. I promise I’ll explain. Alright?”

Kagome hesitated. She stared into his eyes, twin pools of warm honey that glowed in the dim lighting of the room. She found sincerity and a gentleness that had her heart skipping a beat.

Sucking in a breath, she nodded once.

His face visibly relaxed. He stepped closer, slowly, like she might bolt. One clawed hand lifted—hesitant, uncharacteristically tender—and brushed a lock of soot-darkened hair from her cheek.

“You don’t need to be afraid anymore.”

His touch lingered just a second too long.

Then he dropped his hand, turned, and left without another word.

The doors closed behind him with a quiet thud.

Kagome stood frozen, surrounded by the silence of a palace she didn’t understand, in the private room of a man she barely knew. And yet…

She pressed her fingers to the spot on her cheek where his hand had been.

She wasn’t afraid. Maybe, just maybe…things would finally be okay.

Finally, she allowed a small smile to grace her lips. The doors had barely clicked shut before the three maids moved in gentle unison, their steps light as whispers on the polished floor.

“My lady,” said the tallest of them, her voice warm and welcoming. “We’re here to help you get settled. My name is Eri, and this is Yuka and Ayumi.”

Kagome blinked at them, still rooted in place.

Ayumi gave a small, encouraging smile. “His Highness instructed us to make sure you’re cared for properly.”

His Highness.

The words barely registered before Yuka added, “You must be exhausted. A warm bath will do you wonders.”

The next few moments were a blur. Kagome let them guide her into an adjoining bathing chamber so grand she thought she might faint. There was a sunken tub large enough to swim in, the water steaming gently and perfumed with lavender and rose petals. The maids moved with such care and respect, not fussing or fretting, simply helping her undress and step into the bath as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She sighed without realizing it, the heat wrapping around her sore muscles like a lullaby.

Eri gently poured water over her hair, lathering it with something silky and sweet-smelling. “You’re lucky, you know,” she said conversationally. “Our prince has a good heart.”

Kagome stiffened, the water suddenly feeling far too deep.

Yuka giggled softly, catching her reaction. “Oh—did he not tell you? Prince Inuyasha rarely speaks about himself.”

Kagome’s hands gripped the edge of the tub.

Prince?

Ayumi hummed dreamily as she rinsed Kagome’s shoulders. “He’s always been like that. Rough around the edges, but kind where it matters. He wouldn’t have brought you here if he didn’t care.”

“He’s saved people from every sort of horrible situation you can imagine,” Eri added. “He doesn’t like cruelty. It’s…a trait he gets from Her Majesty.”

Kagome said nothing.

Couldn’t.

Her mind spun as their words swirled around her, impossibly gentle, painting a picture of a man she was only beginning to understand. A prince. The prince.

The very idea made her dizzy.

When the bath was done, they dried her carefully and dressed her in a robe the color of cherry blossoms—soft, airy, and trimmed in white embroidery. It felt too fine for her. Too soft for someone like her to wear. Yet they didn’t treat her like an outsider. Not once.

“You must be hungry,” Yuka said as they led her back into the bedroom. Moments later, a silver tray was brought in with bowls of warm rice, miso soup, sliced fruit, and small dumplings. Nothing heavy, nothing overwhelming.

“Just a little to get your strength back,” Ayumi said kindly. “You’ve had quite the night.”

Kagome nodded faintly, murmuring a soft, “Thank you…truly.”

She couldn’t stop bowing slightly, even seated, hands folded in gratitude. “I don’t know how to thank you all for this kindness.”

Eri reached over and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’ve already thanked us plenty, my lady. Just rest. And if you need anything, anything at all, there’s a bell beside the bed.”

With that, they curtsied and quietly took their leave, the doors closing behind them with the same hush that had marked their arrival.

The silence left behind was almost surreal.

Kagome looked around, still half-convinced it was all a strange, fragile dream. The room was…beautiful. No, not just beautiful—breathtaking. The bed alone could have slept four people. The rugs were so plush they felt like clouds beneath her bare feet. Oil paintings hung on the walls: sweeping landscapes, cherry blossoms in bloom, a silver-haired demon caught mid-battle.

She approached the double doors and stepped out onto the balcony.

The city glittered below like a blanket of stars, music and laughter still drifting faintly through the air. It was a different world. One she had never dared imagine herself part of.

And now she was in the prince’s chambers.

His chambers.

She touched the hem of the robe she wore, then turned her gaze to the bed again. Her heart thumped nervously. Just for a moment, she thought. He wouldn’t mind…would he?

Her eyes landed on the discarded suikan — his outer robe — folded over the armchair where he had tossed it earlier. She hesitated, then quietly padded over and picked it up, holding it close. It still smelled like him. Cedar. Ash. Something distinctly warm and earthy.

She slipped it on.

It was far too big, swallowing her whole — but it felt like a shield. Like safety.

With small steps, she climbed onto the bed, curled beneath the layers of impossibly soft blankets, and pulled the suikan tighter around herself.

She meant to stay awake.

Just for a little while.