Inu-spiration!

About mid-day afternoon, The two friends made their way to the Shikon Café, the warm summer air doing little to improve Inuyasha's mood. As they approached the café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wafted through the air, momentarily distracting Inuyasha from his anger.

After finishing her first morning rush, Kagome was busy arranging pastries in the display case. She had to call Ashira for help once or twice, spilled coffee, and dropped a few muffins on the ground from touching them with her hand after pulling them out of the oven, but she felt pretty confident in her newly acquired skills. She was determined to make a good impression despite Ashira assuring her that it was ok to make mistakes on her first day. With her back turned to the entrance, she didn't see the newcomers but called out automatically, "Welcome in!"

Inuyasha, not paying much attention, saw a sudden glance of long black hair and he immediately saw red, assuming the greeting came from someone he knew all too well. "Kikyou, what the hell do you want now?" he barked, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads.

Kagome straightened up, startled by the outburst. She turned around, her brown eyes wide with surprise. "Excuse me?”

Inuyasha blinked, momentarily thrown off by the unfamiliar voice. He looked up and his eyes met Kagome's fiery gaze. The resemblance to Kikyou was uncanny, but there was something different about this girl—something warmer, more vibrant.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded, his tone still rough but less certain.

‘Oh Kami give me strength.’ she prayed inwardly, trying not to make a scene. "Excuse me?” She repeated. “Who wants to know," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The one asking, wench” Inuyasha replied his stubbornness getting the best out of him not willing to admit his mistake.

Her eyes narrowed harder, matching his stubbornness and attitude, manners begone. “The name’s Kagome,” She leaves her previous position and approaches the counter, pressing her palms down on the counter and leaning towards him in a boastful voice. “And who the hell do you think you are, coming in here and yelling at people? If you want service in this cafe, you better watch your attitude, mister." Gold meets brown in an even-matched eye contact.

Miroku, ever the mediator, stepped in with a charming smile. "Hi there! Kagome, is it? Please forgive my friend, he's having a bit of a rough day."

Kagome's expression softened slightly at Miroku's polite demeanor, but she wasn't ready to let Inuyasha off the hook just yet. "A rough day doesn't give him the right to be a jerk," she retorted, turning her glare back to Inuyasha.

Inuyasha's scowl deepened. "Look wench, I thought you were someone else, alright? Just drop it."

Kagome huffed and laughed in disbelief, clearly unimpressed. "It's Kagome. Ka-go-me! Not wench and Maybe you should think about that before you speak next time."

Before the situation could escalate further, another customer walked in, diverting Kagome's attention. She gave Inuyasha one last pointed look before walking towards them to take the new customer's order.

Miroku chuckled softly. "Well, that was interesting. She’d definitely put you in your place."

Inuyasha grumbled something under his breath but didn't argue. Instead, he watched Kagome from the corner of his eye as she interacted with the customers, her smile warm and genuine. It was a stark contrast to Kikyou's often aloof demeanor and from their previous interaction just 2 minutes ago.

As the café settled back into its usual rhythm, Inuyasha found himself unable to focus on anything other than the strange, fiery girl who had just told him off. He didn't know why, but something about her intrigued him.

When the café quieted down again, Kagome took a deep breath and blew out the tension in her body. Her eyes zoned in on the table of two that occupied Inuyasha and Miroku. She initially procrastinated approaching their table due to another random rush of customers, but it was her job after all. With a hint of curiosity in her eyes, she walked over. "So, are you two going to order something, or just take up space?"

Miroku smiled. "We'll have two coffees, please. And maybe a slice of that strawberry cake."

Kagome nodded, jotting down the order. "Coming right up."

As she walked away, Inuyasha couldn't help but watch her, his mind a whirl of confusion and curiosity. He didn't know what it was about Kagome, but he had a feeling this wasn't the last time their paths would cross.

Minutes later, Kagome returned with their order, setting the coffee and cake down on the table. "Here you go," she said, her tone more neutral but still holding a hint of the earlier annoyance.

"Thanks," Miroku said warmly. Inuyasha muttered a gruff thanks as well, still feeling slightly off-balance.

Kagome gave him a brief nod before heading back to the counter. As she worked, she found herself sneaking glances at the silver-haired, brash-talking customer. There was something about him that piqued her curiosity despite his rough demeanor.

As the day wore on, the café began to empty, and Kagome found herself with another moment to breathe. She glanced over at Inuyasha and Miroku's table, noticing that they were still there, talking quietly.

‘He was rude, loud, and disrespectful. She thought to herself with renewed annoyance, and then with a sigh, she proclaimed to herself, ‘Well my behavior wasn’t a 5-star either no matter how much I felt he deserved it.’ She concluded, always one for leading by example. Taking a deep inhale and exhale breath, she decided to approach them once more. She saw his ear twitch the closer she got to their table, signaling that he was aware of her approaching presence. Her fingers twitched in a sudden desire to feel them and pet them. Odd. Arriving she took a beat and spoke, “Listen," she said, standing by their table, drawing their attention. "I know we got off on the wrong foot earlier. And I'm sorry if I was a bit….harsh."

Inuyasha looked up, his expression softening just a fraction. "Yeah, well, I shouldn't have assumed you were Kikyou. Sorry about that."

Kagome smiled slightly, her earlier irritation fading. "Apology accepted.” Curiosity getting the best of her since he did ruin her afternoon, after all. ” So, you had a fight with an ex?"

Inuyasha sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, something like that. It's complicated."

Kagome nodded, understanding the sentiment. "Breakups are never easy. But maybe a fresh start isn't such a bad thing."

They locked eye contact for a moment and the air slightly shifted. He can't explain it; he’s not sure what it is, but this feels…different. Inuyasha glanced at her once more, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe you're right."

Miroku watched the exchange with a knowing smile, glad to see his friend finally opening up a little. "Well, it's a start," he murmured.

About mid-day afternoon, The two friends made their way to the Shikon Café, the warm summer air doing little to improve Inuyasha's mood. As they approached the café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wafted through the air, momentarily distracting Inuyasha from his anger.

After finishing her first morning rush, Kagome was busy arranging pastries in the display case. She had to call Ashira for help once or twice, spilled coffee, and dropped a few muffins on the ground from touching them with her hand after pulling them out of the oven, but she felt pretty confident in her newly acquired skills. She was determined to make a good impression despite Ashira assuring her that it was ok to make mistakes on her first day. With her back turned to the entrance, she didn't see the newcomers but called out automatically, "Welcome in!"

Inuyasha, not paying much attention, saw a sudden glance of long black hair and he immediately saw red, assuming the greeting came from someone he knew all too well. "Kikyou, what the hell do you want now?" he barked, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads.

Kagome straightened up, startled by the outburst. She turned around, her brown eyes wide with surprise. "Excuse me?”

Inuyasha blinked, momentarily thrown off by the unfamiliar voice. He looked up and his eyes met Kagome's fiery gaze. The resemblance to Kikyou was uncanny, but there was something different about this girl—something warmer, more vibrant.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded, his tone still rough but less certain.

‘Oh Kami give me strength.’ she prayed inwardly, trying not to make a scene. "Excuse me?” She repeated. “Who wants to know," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The one asking, wench” Inuyasha replied his stubbornness getting the best out of him not willing to admit his mistake.

Her eyes narrowed harder, matching his stubbornness and attitude, manners begone. “The name’s Kagome,” She leaves her previous position and approaches the counter, pressing her palms down on the counter and leaning towards him in a boastful voice. “And who the hell do you think you are, coming in here and yelling at people? If you want service in this cafe, you better watch your attitude, mister." Gold meets brown in an even-matched eye contact.

Miroku, ever the mediator, stepped in with a charming smile. "Hi there! Kagome, is it? Please forgive my friend, he's having a bit of a rough day."

Kagome's expression softened slightly at Miroku's polite demeanor, but she wasn't ready to let Inuyasha off the hook just yet. "A rough day doesn't give him the right to be a jerk," she retorted, turning her glare back to Inuyasha.

Inuyasha's scowl deepened. "Look wench, I thought you were someone else, alright? Just drop it."

Kagome huffed and laughed in disbelief, clearly unimpressed. "It's Kagome. Ka-go-me! Not wench and Maybe you should think about that before you speak next time."

Before the situation could escalate further, another customer walked in, diverting Kagome's attention. She gave Inuyasha one last pointed look before walking towards them to take the new customer's order.

Miroku chuckled softly. "Well, that was interesting. She’d definitely put you in your place."

Inuyasha grumbled something under his breath but didn't argue. Instead, he watched Kagome from the corner of his eye as she interacted with the customers, her smile warm and genuine. It was a stark contrast to Kikyou's often aloof demeanor and from their previous interaction just 2 minutes ago.

As the café settled back into its usual rhythm, Inuyasha found himself unable to focus on anything other than the strange, fiery girl who had just told him off. He didn't know why, but something about her intrigued him.

When the café quieted down again, Kagome took a deep breath and blew out the tension in her body. Her eyes zoned in on the table of two that occupied Inuyasha and Miroku. She initially procrastinated approaching their table due to another random rush of customers, but it was her job after all. With a hint of curiosity in her eyes, she walked over. "So, are you two going to order something, or just take up space?"

Miroku smiled. "We'll have two coffees, please. And maybe a slice of that strawberry cake."

Kagome nodded, jotting down the order. "Coming right up."

As she walked away, Inuyasha couldn't help but watch her, his mind a whirl of confusion and curiosity. He didn't know what it was about Kagome, but he had a feeling this wasn't the last time their paths would cross.

Minutes later, Kagome returned with their order, setting the coffee and cake down on the table. "Here you go," she said, her tone more neutral but still holding a hint of the earlier annoyance.

"Thanks," Miroku said warmly. Inuyasha muttered a gruff thanks as well, still feeling slightly off-balance.

Kagome gave him a brief nod before heading back to the counter. As she worked, she found herself sneaking glances at the silver-haired, brash-talking customer. There was something about him that piqued her curiosity despite his rough demeanor.

As the day wore on, the café began to empty, and Kagome found herself with another moment to breathe. She glanced over at Inuyasha and Miroku's table, noticing that they were still there, talking quietly.

‘He was rude, loud, and disrespectful. She thought to herself with renewed annoyance, and then with a sigh, she proclaimed to herself, ‘Well my behavior wasn’t a 5-star either no matter how much I felt he deserved it.’ She concluded, always one for leading by example. Taking a deep inhale and exhale breath, she decided to approach them once more. She saw his ear twitch the closer she got to their table, signaling that he was aware of her approaching presence. Her fingers twitched in a sudden desire to feel them and pet them. Odd. Arriving she took a beat and spoke, “Listen," she said, standing by their table, drawing their attention. "I know we got off on the wrong foot earlier. And I'm sorry if I was a bit….harsh."

Inuyasha looked up, his expression softening just a fraction. "Yeah, well, I shouldn't have assumed you were Kikyou. Sorry about that."

Kagome smiled slightly, her earlier irritation fading. "Apology accepted.” Curiosity getting the best of her since he did ruin her afternoon, after all. ” So, you had a fight with an ex?"

Inuyasha sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, something like that. It's complicated."

Kagome nodded, understanding the sentiment. "Breakups are never easy. But maybe a fresh start isn't such a bad thing."

They locked eye contact for a moment and the air slightly shifted. He can't explain it; he’s not sure what it is, but this feels…different. Inuyasha glanced at her once more, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe you're right."

Miroku watched the exchange with a knowing smile, glad to see his friend finally opening up a little. "Well, it's a start," he murmured.

Inuyasha’s scowl deepened. “Don’t fuckin’ joke with me, Miroku,” he grumbled, and turned his head away.

“Come, come now,” Miroku cajoled him, patting his friend on the shoulder. “You can tell me, Inuyasha. We’ve been friends a long time; we’re business partners now, right?” He dropped from a squat to his knees. “What’s troubling you, old friend?”

Inuyasha grouched, and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. Miroku recognized it immediately; it was a small red omikuji, just like the one Sango and the children were waiting in line for. Miroku held out his hand. “May I?” he asked, kindly.

“Keh.” Inuyasha shoved it at him. “Don’t fuckin’ matter, anyway.”

“I’m sure that it does.” Miroku took the omikuji and opened it. His eyes grew wide at the fortune. “Why, Inuyasha, it’s…”

“A dai-kichi,” Inuyasha muttered. “Yeah, I know.”

Miroku tried to keep his composure. Why would a great blessing irritate his friend so?

“But, Inuyasha,” Miroku began, trying to see the reason, “isn’t this what you’ve wanted? What you’ve been waiting for?”

Inuyasha whipped around to face Miroku, who was stunned to see Inuyasha’s eyes wet with tears. “What I’ve been waiting for, you damn monk,” he hissed, “is for Kagome to fuckin’ come back through that well, not for some stupid, shitty fortune promising that some vague great thing’s gonna happen! Who knows what that’ll be!”

“Maybe it will be her,” Miroku reasoned.

“Yeah,” Inuyasha scoffed, “or maybe my brother will finally eat shit and die.”

“Kagome, you’ve gone over the brats’ schedule with her five times already. I think she’s got it. Isn’t that right, Sango?” He arched his brow at the demon slayer, their gazes meeting and the only answer he received in response was her shrug. Sango knew all too well about keeping kids overnight, and so did they, he might add. He couldn’t keep track of how many times they watched her kids while she went on a trip with his brother.

“Fine, fine.” His wife gave him one of her award winning smiles and all his irritation disappeared, her brown eyes sparkling as the rising sun hit them just right. He would never admit it, but he couldn’t imagine ever falling in love with another color for the rest of his life. “Where is Sesshomaru?”

“Oh, he’s giving his farewell to Rin and Kohaku before they leave to head north on another demon hunt.”

“She’s really enjoying learning all about it and I’m a little shocked to see His Royal Fluffiness be so calm about it.” Kagome winked, leaning in close, so if the daiyoukai were to suddenly appear, he wouldn’t hear her.

“Oh, at first he was anything but calm about it. You know how when he’s especially irritated, his mokomoko gets all fuzzy, like a cat’s tail? It wouldn’t settle for days the first time Rin left the village. I had to force him to stay in the village so he wouldn’t go after them.” Sango loudly whispered back, their grins wide on their faces.

“Is Sango whispering stories again?” Said man appeared next to Inuyasha, his face stoic despite the teasing mood in the air.

“Yeah, she’s telling Sango about the first time Rin went demon slaying.” 

“Hn.”

Rolling his eyes, Inuyasha ignored the weird bond between one of his closest friends and his brother, still not used to the affectionate way Sesshomaru acted towards her. Rin was one thing and even Kagome was another. They were simply family. Sango was a new battleground he had yet to figure out about Sesshomaru. Stepping towards the chittering women, he snatched their overstuffed bag and swung it over his shoulder, slipping his wife’s hand into his.

“Alright love, time to go. See ya both in three days. If we pass Miroku on our travels, I’ll remind him about being back in time for the twins' birthdays at the end of the summer.”

“Thanks Inuyasha, have fun now you two!” Sango waved them off without another word and headed towards her hut, the sound of six children getting up for the day filling the air.

Despite the day being warmer than he initially expected, they made it to the beach in record time, the sun falling beneath the horizon as his toes sank into the sand. Their campsite was hidden behind some trees, so if any other travelers were to pass by, they wouldn’t be able to spot them unless they actively searched for them. Holding onto Kagome’s hand a little tighter than normal, so she didn’t slip as they walked towards the ocean, Inuyasha couldn’t stop the smile from forming.

“Happy that we made it?” Kagome hummed, her cheeks flushed from being out in the sun all day.

“Yeah, it was a quick trip, but I always forget just how insane this view is. Why don’t we come more often?”

“Because we have three kids, all under the age of 6 and getting time away from them is hard enough.” She laughed, the sound drifting across his ears and easing any unspoken worries. He wondered how after six years, she was still able to calm him with such a simple action. “Besides, while I think the kids would have fun here, I would very much like to keep this a place for just the two of us.”

He nodded, the two of them stopping to watch the remainder of the sunset in silence, the waters flowing past their ankles. Arms wrapped around his life, Inuyasha couldn’t help but send a silent prayer up to the heavens, giving his thanks for bringing Kagome back into his life once more. 

Once the moon lit up the night sky, he simply scooped up wife in his arms, sealed his mouth to hers and made his way back to their makeshift bed to show her just how much he appreciated her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days had passed and soon the couple were ready to return to the chaos that was their life, the summer day turning into a cool, rainy one the closer they journeyed home. Inuyasha could only imagine having six kids cooped up in a house all day on one like this was probably not the greatest, especially if the way the scent of rain permeated the air, alerting him that it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Careful to not step in mud, he rounded the bend in the path with his wife at his side, Sango’s home coming into his view. From where they stood, all seemed normal and he couldn’t hear anything happening in the house, but he was sure that it was pure hectic chaos inside. He briefly wondered if Sesshomaru stayed to help or go hide in a tree somewhere, trying to stay dry. The image of a soaking wet daiyoukai made him snicker quietly.

As they neared the home, he could hear the echoes of children’s laughter, still unable to make out any definite sounds with the heavy pouring rain. Pulling aside the mat, he and Kagome froze, mouths’ gaping at the chaotic scene before them.

To his left, his oldest Moroha, currently had Hisui pinned down on the mat, her cackle causing him to wince just a bit. She had managed to get a small garden snake into the hut and was practically shoving it down the poor kid’s throat, calling him a “fraidy cat”. To his right, the older twins had backed Shippo into a corner, the kit hiding his tail protectively because Inuyasha knew all too well how much the girls love to pull it.

A soft hissed caught his attention and glancing over Kagome's still shocked face, he noticed the large pot boiling over into the fire pit, effectively burning whatever Sango had decided to make for lunch. To be truthfully honest, he couldn’t really tell what it was. In the far corner, near the back door he had helped Miroku install so it was easier to get to the stream behind their hut, his youngest lay in a pile of blankets, happily snoozing away. The only thing that seemed really out of place, well more like into full on tantrum mode, was his middle child  wailing in Sango’s arms as she glared at them.

It took him a full minute to realize she was actually giving the dirty look to the full blooded youkai sitting in the corner of rafters overhead, Sesshomaru’s face in a full on pout. Unable to hold back his laughter, he roared, doubling over, catching the sweetest of giggles his wife made beside him.

“What the he-”, Inuyasha paused, wary of little brats repeating his words, before wiping away the tears from his eyes, “Why are you up there, Sesshomaru?”

“Your pup has sticky fingers.”

“She’s three! Of course her fingers are probably sticky.” Kagome laughed once more before turning to console their child, Sango joining them and placing her hands on her hips.

“Lord Fluffy up there decided he didn’t like sticky fingers when Izayoi wanted to play with his hair. Before I could soothe her, Haruto picked the perfect time to spit up the milk you left for him and it just so happened to distract Sesshomaru enough that Izayoi sank her fingers into his mokomoko. I’ve never seen him so offended, except for a few times battling Naraku.” She sighed, shaking her head, and called out, “How long are you planning on staying up there?”

“Either until all of the children’s hands are clean or the rain stops.”

.

.

.

The lanterns shed bright, burning lights on the shifting crowd, basking their shoulders in buttery heat. Villagers dressed in their finest packed close together in throngs that combed through the streets, all swept clean in preparation for the night, its stones smoothed over by continual footfalls.  Children wove through them carrying fallen streamers in their hands that dragged in limp, colorful tails behind them. Dancers performed in billowy, viscous movements, their graceful limbs as light as rice paper, swaying just like the lanterns above. 

The shadow of two women sloughing through the crush caught the attention of some of the townspeople. They carried with them no finery or tidy appearance, but the one on the left managed an air of dignity as she strode past, despite her sullied miko robes. 

The other woman, scantily clad, lugged her broken bow with nothing short of irritation. As the two approached the communal bathhouse, she forwent any pleasantries with the staff, much to the chagrin of her companion.  

A curious, perhaps concerning pair, the villagers decided. Both strangers descended into the bathhouse and the festivities resumed, but the visage of the two women, contrasting harshly against the other, never faded from their collective thoughts. 

“Ahh,” Kagome groaned, sinking into the water. “That’s the stuff.” 

Kikyo sank below the water with less enthusiasm, her long hair pooling out beside her. She maintained the same stiff, unamused expression she’d donned when Kagome had rushed into the bathhouse, so elated at the possibility of washing youkai guts off herself that she’d ignored the bathhouse host in her excitement.  “Could this not have waited until we regrouped with the others?” 

Kagome grimaced. “Sorry, but if I had to go another second covered in -” she shuddered, wrapping her slim fingers around her shoulders, “-I’d lose it! Isn’t it uncomfortable for you?” 

Kikyo picked at the crusted blood beneath her fingernails, unperturbed. “It is a matter of duty. I think little of it.” 

Kagome squinted, unconvinced. 

Her companion sighed. “I admit it is far from appealing.” At Kagome’s cocky smile, she hurried to change the subject. “Are you hurt?” 

Kagome stood up in the tub, water dripping down the lines of her bare skin. There were a few shallow cuts from falling in attempts to dodge the bakeneko’s enormous paws, but nothing that wouldn’t heal on its own. Still wary, she swam to the tub’s stone rim and sat herself at the edge, pressing cool alcohol wipes to her waist. A low hiss snuck past her lips, but she managed to keep quiet through the cold, stinging sensation rippling through her.  

At last she finished, lightly bandaged herself, and returned to the water. Kikyo averted her gaze. 

“How about you?” Kagome asked. 

Kikyo’s eyebrows drew together. “I need no such attention, Kagome. It is a waste of resources.” She pursed her lips. “You know this.”  

Kagome frowned. Kikyo’s body, for as human as it looked, had been fashioned from clay and was only slightly less fragile. Her injuries were cracks that dented her curves; fissures gliding through the parchment white expanse of her back like she’d been drawn on with ink. Through the fracturing sheen of the water’s surface, Kagome could just glimpse the cracks on Kikyo’s thighs and ankles, and worried for the day that her spiritual powers failed to be enough to hold her together. 

In truth, she’d wanted to address this sooner. They had been tracking a pride of bakeneko possessed by tainted shards, and Kagome had hoped the absence of their other companions would put them in a position to have a private conversation. The elder girl, however, was insistent that there be no discussion on the subject and had shut her down at every turn.  

It wasn’t like Kikyo was doing much for herself, either. She made no effort to be less abrasive in battle – in fact, since joining their group, she’d begun to fight more recklessly than ever before. If it wasn’t Inuyasha ushering them through their meals and waking them up the crack of dawn, it would be Kikyo, albeit less crudely. Her every action was pockmarked with impatience. Even when she walked, she did it as though she were waiting for the ground beneath her to crumble away and bury her severed body among the debris.  

They were all running on an inner timer, but Kikyo most of all. For a single night, Kagome wanted to reach into her and dismantle it.  

Kikyo’s voice pierced through her train of thought. “...if they have no mounts, we may depart on foot, though it would be less convenient for our purposes.” 

Kagome shook her head. “It’s too late to leave the village. We should book a room at an inn and stay the night. It’ll be more dangerous if we leave now.” 

“You will not be in danger,” Kikyo assured her. “I will protect you.” At Kagome’s huff of annoyance, Kikyo continued, the beginnings of a smile on her pale lips, “At the very least, I can keep you from unceremoniously tripping over yourself as you did earlier...multiple times. Or is that a futile effort to pursue?” 

Kagome teasingly flicked a bit of water at her. The unexpected spray of water splashed against Kikyo’s face, and she blinked, frozen for a moment. Then she echoed the motion, and Kagome felt something much larger than a couple of innocent droplets hit her cheeks – Kikyo had retaliated with a full shove of her hand, momentarily submerging Kagome in a wave of steaming water.  

Kagome’s damp hair hung heavy with a fresh, unwarranted rinse. She wiped a hand down her face, clenching her jaw. Kikyo’s lips quivered with hidden laughter. 

“Think you’re so funny, huh?” she grumbled, swiping away a stray line of droplets. There must have been something amok with her face, because Kikyo had begun to laugh. It was a quiet one, more so a light chuckle than an endless bout, but it was a beautiful sound.  

Subconsciously, a part of her seized that sound by its whimsical notes and tucked it somewhere she would not forget it. Kikyo’s mouth curled up at the edges, her smile sweet with amusement, face ruddy and wet but shining with youth. She looked, if only for a moment, like one of the schoolgirls in Kagome’s era, laughing without a care in the world.  

Kagome refused to wait for the sound to die out. She splashed Kikyo right back, and the other girl had no choice – and, Kagome was certain, was too prideful not to – but to retaliate with greater force. It was so childish that Kagome couldn’t believe Kikyo was participating at all, instead of simply shrugging off her antics, but she was too happy to give it much thought. They rarely shared loose, careless moments together, and with every shower of rain Kikyo sent her way, she felt her heart swell like a basin filled to the brim. 

Eventually Kikyo reigned herself in, but she still spoke breathlessly as she rose from the tub, clambering to get dressed. Kagome sat in the water longer, trying to gather up her wits. She felt hotter than the steam pressing into her from all sides. 

Kikyo reemerged from behind a shoji screen, clutching her dirty clothes to her chest. There was something like reluctance in her sagging posture. “The...the lady of the house insists we stay for the night. She owns the inn situated by this bathhouse.” 

“Oh?” Kagome asked curiously, wading closer.  

“Tonight is auspicious. She told me that there was little chance we would find a stable ready to lend us a stallion, and that we would have better luck tomorrow, once all the travelers have departed and the festivities have neared their end.” 

“What a relief,” Kagome crowed. Her relief soured, though, when she caught sight of the clothes Kikyo carried. “Don’t tell me we’ll have to dress in those again.” 

“Unless you wish to wander about in a kosode, I suggest you hurry up,” said Kikyo dryly. Kagome stifled a sigh, already imagining the gross feel of her dirty, bloodied skirt on her newly scrubbed skin. “The inn is only across the street.” 

Neither woman made it across the street, however. They’d made it a handful of steps before a cheerful young attendant seized Kagome’s palms in her own. She had seemingly come out of nowhere, the cowlick on her scalp striking Kagome’s line of vision like lightning.  

“Ah! Look at you, without yukata for the evening!” she gasped. She wore elaborate evening-ware of her own, indigo-dyed cotton with a bright red obi and painted sandals. Her shiny chestnut hair was spooled into an elaborate updo. Her eyes roved over Kagome’s school uniform with thinly veiled distaste. “Well, that’s no good! We must look our best for the kami, after all.”  

Kagome shook her head. “We don’t have much-” 

“Oh, don’t you worry a moment. Come!” The woman guided Kagome to a cart overflowing with a plethora of secondhand robes. Kikyo walked staunchly beside them both, looking slightly miffed at the interruption.  

It didn’t take long for both girls to be lambasted by a crowd of other merchants from neighboring carts, seamstresses clamoring for business. Long white obis and polished geta and faux silver hair-pieces were thrust in front of them; pots of rouge and paling powder dusted on their hands as a test of authenticity. The pointless mingling had lasted all but an eternity, and at the turn of the century, she’d found herself with a newly purchased yukata for the evening. 

 A tick-mark formed on Kikyo’s temple at the demure, tinkling goodbye! chorus of a dozen monetarily satisfied women. Even she, who had tried to politely decline their insistent suggestions of - oh, but miko-sama, this hairpin would look elegant in your long hair! and the dark color of this yukata contrasts wonderfully against your porcelain skin, miko-sama! - had ended up with new clothes out of her own will. Not wanting the product to go to waste, both girls had left to change. 

Kagome sat on a crooked wooden stool outside a soba stand, ignoring the familiar pinch of the geta on her feet. As uncomfortable and pushy had the merchants been, she had to admit she liked her yukata. It was a light, wispy slip of a thing, the color of sea coral. Patterns of blooming morning glories spiraled across the pink fabric. She’d fumbled with the sea-foam blue hanhaba obi for an embarrassing amount of time, and her hair was bare of any ornamentation, but she surely felt more acclimated to the dressed-up villagers around her. 

The crisp snap of dry grass signaled Kikyo’s arrival. Kagome made to jovially greet her, preparing to express how relieved she was to be in clean clothes, when her mouth dried up. 

She was swathed in dark, ebony colored cloth, a high contrast to her pale skin. Opulent peonies were printed along the entirety, coupled with blossoming yellow chrysanthemums and elegant white wisteria on dappled fabric. Her obi was white, tied neatly, and nearly the same shade as her skin. There was a subtle touch of pink to her lips, a gentle blush dusted across her cheeks, all delicate touches of makeup to enunciate her sharp features. She had chosen to free her hair to its natural length, and it coasted her knees, fluttering around her like an ethereal extension of her robes.  

Kagome had never seen Kikyo outside of her miko attire, and perhaps that was for the best, because the woman’s beauty was... far too distracting. 

“The innkeeper insisted I dress for the occasion,” Kikyo explained, tone somewhat fervent as she said it. Her voice was tight, and though she gazed in Kagome’s general direction, her focus was on the girl’s shoulders. “You look...well.” 

“Y-yes,” Kagome murmured. “You, too.” 

“I suppose it is a waste,” Kikyo lamented after an extended moment of awkward silence. “Such finery, and we are to retire early, but I was unable to refuse her.” 

Kagome frowned. “Retire early?” 

Kikyo arched an eyebrow. “Was it not you who suggested we retire for the night?” 

“Well, yeah, but...” Kagome sat up, leading Kikyo towards the crowd. “Can’t we enjoy the festival for a little while? After all, today’s auspicious.” She gave Kikyo a coy smile. “We wouldn’t want to do the kami a disservice by ignoring today’s celebration...would we?” 

Kikyo considered it. “I have never been present during aki-nanoka,” she said. “Our village would assist the neighboring ones in their own celebrations, but we never hosted our own. I only visited to perform dances.” 

Aki-nanoka. In the feudal era, the days tended to bleed into each other, with no real sense of time. She could have sworn June hadn’t ended at all, but Kikyo’s certainty made her think otherwise. What she was certain of herself, however, was the significance of this day. “Tanabata?” 

“You celebrate this during...your time, as well?” 

“It’s a pretty big holiday,” Kagome admitted. If she’d been back in the modern era, she would have been celebrating at the shrine, listening to Sota complain about wearing geta for the sixth year in a row, eating fried yakitori, and hanging out with her school-friends after completing menial miko duties with her grandfather. The memories were tinged with homesickness, but she snuffed them out and returned her attentions to Kikyo. 

The elder miko watched the crowds with a careful, guarded look. “So...” Kagome trailed off, shuffling on her feet. “What do you want to do? We could go get some food, or watch the dancing...” 

Kikyo’s placid expression melted into one of sincerity. “Are you hungry?” 

Kagome bit her lip, cursing herself for asking. Kikyo couldn’t eat at all. She had no appetite nor need for consuming food, considering her undead status. She said little during meals with the group, but Kagome had caught her watching them roast their quarry with an almost wistful quality to her face.  

Kagome hadn’t thought about it until then, but it wasn’t unreasonable to believe that Kikyo deeply missed the contentment that came with being able to cherish a meal with others, rather than seeing consistent reminders that she could never do something like that again. The last thing she wanted was to be responsible for those feelings of isolation, so she clasped Kikyo’s hands in hers and searched for something to do beyond the slanted roof of the soba stand. 

A blot of red in the far distance caught her attention. She guided them both through the congregating villagers, ignoring calls of those selling skewered meat and mochi; masterfully evading the children chasing each other through the slick roads wet from recent rainfall.  

The crowd spit them out by a clearing ringed with stone lanterns, each hosting a strong fire in their cement nests. Targets were laid out at various distances, and a couple of men stood a ways to the side, tapping the fletching on their arrows. Servants – at least she assumed so, though their dress and makeup appeared too elaborate for someone of that class - busied themselves with holding the archers’ arrows or feeding wood into the lanterns.  

Kikyo approached one of them. “Might I inquire,” she began, “as to your activities here?” 

“An archery contest,” one answered, her voice a low whisper as to not disturb her male companion. His eyebrows were drawn so tight that Kagome thought they might snap off from the intensity of his concentration alone. “For the daimyo’s samurai. Many of the kyudo warriors have taken rooms at our local teahouse, but quite a few expressed interest in...varied entertainment, as they put it.” She peered at them inquisitively. “Did one of the men order you away from the teahouse?” 

Kagome coughed. Kikyo made a less flattering sound. “Er, no. We’re...spectators.” 

The woman seemed unfazed at their twin reactions of discomfort. “I see. I suggest you speak quietly. They do not take kindly to interruptions.” 

They slipped under the shadow of a tree, watching the samurai practice. There were five men dressed in full battle garb, chest-plates gleaming under the milky-eyed watch of the moon. The clearing was quiet save for the faded sound of ongoing celebrations and the continual whistle of a flying arrow. Each pierced a hairsbreadth away from their destined targets, and Kagome couldn’t help but be a little awed at their skill.  

Kikyo didn’t appear as impressed. She sat straight, watching the narrow line of the arrow’s path with scrutiny. “Not one of them has hit the mark thus far.” 

Kagome snorted, bumping Kikyo with her shoulder. “Well, hime-sama , not everyone can be a master.” 

Kikyo arched a single, regal eyebrow, but did not refute nor deny the statement.  

Kagome brought her knees to her chest, letting the geta fall from her feet. She stared at the near-artistic synchronization of each soldier’s immaculate positioning.  She wanted that speed, the mere blink of time that passed between the nocking of the arrow and its release, but most of all wished she could cut some cloth from the capes of boundless confidence rolling off their shoulders to drape over herself.  

“Why do you envy them?” 

“Envy?” she echoed. 

“You have no reason to,” Kikyo told her, as though it were the simplest truth in the world.  

“I wish I was a little more...I don’t know. Confident? Like you. If I was more sure in my shots, maybe...” 

“The confidence you have befits your skill. It keeps you balanced. Nurturing an ego shall only serve to slow you down considerably.” 

“An ego,” Kagome repeated, cocking an eyebrow, “like yours?” 

Kikyo stared at her out of the corner of her eye, looking slightly miffed as her companion stifled a laugh. She continued to watch the men with a critical eye, and a moment later, stood abruptly and made her way to one of the men.  

“Might I try?” Kikyo asked. The soldier lowered his bow and gave her a cursory glance. Without her robes, she was only granted a fraction of the respect her authority as a miko afforded her, though she still exuded an air of vague importance. The man seemed to think she was nobility, or perhaps he only wanted to humor her – regardless, he moved aside. 

Kikyo notched the arrow. There was a bare, unattainable instant of target examination, a brief study of the wind, all of which passed within seconds. She let the arrow fly. 

Kagome was the only one within the clearing who held any sort of casualness on her face, even as the arrow split the previous man’s discarded arrows in half. The precision was impeccable, but Kikyo herself was impeccable in her skill, and Kagome was used to witnessing this level of performance.  

Kikyo sought her gaze from the stand. A faint, near invisible smile curled her pink lips.  

Ego , Kagome thought, smothering a smirk.  

“You possess a natural talent,” the soldier complimented as Kikyo stepped down from the path. “Do you have a teacher?” 

“None,” she replied. Kagome noted how she omitted the mention of her miko status. “Thank you. I shall take my leave-” 

“What is your name, maiden?” The soldier had somehow moved himself in front of them. Kagome had never noticed how large he was; he’d seemed so miniscule from a distance. His shoulders were broad with muscle, and the way he gleaned at them now reminded her of less pleasant things.  

Kikyo regarded him coldly. “It does not concern you.” 

He took it in stiff stride. “What of your companion? She seems less entertained in your company.” His gaze slid over to Kagome, and she shrunk with distaste. The kimono she had felt so comfortable in now felt like a second skin of wet cardboard. 

“We, er – we really must be going,” she said hastily, craning her neck to see how far the path back to the main village was. The clearing’s seclusion had appeared a quaint gift at first, but now she wished for the safety and omniscient presence of the festival crowd. The other soldiers had left to join the teahouse with their female quivers, and the few that remained were chatting in quiet, low voices, unaware of their surroundings.  

“And be alone on this night? I cannot allow it,” he said. His hand reached for hers, only to be slapped away by Kikyo, who levelled him a look so viscous Kagome nearly recoiled.  

The soldier’s fingers curled into a fist at the blatant rejection. “See where pride gets you,” he snarled. He stepped forward and seized Kikyo’s shoulder, squeezing with his large, thick fingers. Kikyo gasped in pain, attempting to wretch herself away. 

Kagome reached for one of the discarded bows and smacked him upside the head – it was the same move she’d used on Tsubaki during her weakest moment, and seeing as how she couldn’t very well use spiritual powers on a human, no matter his disposition, this was her best bet. He ducked away from her assault, expletives spitting from his mouth like a shower of bullets. 

“Hands off,” Kagome muttered, and the two girls took their leave. 

It was a clumsy escape. The yukata made it difficult to move beyond a delicate inch of a step, but she held Kikyo’s hand as they spirted themselves away. They ran into the grove by the village, where a couple of bamboo trees had been erected, each decorated with colorful banners. When they were certain he was no longer chasing them, they collapsed at the base of a bamboo tree and shared a mutual sigh of exasperation.  

Kagome wiped a grass stain off her clothes, gathering up her breath. Kikyo had quickly composed herself and kept her gaze trained on the waning shadows of the near trees. Out of the blue, she stood up and declared, without looking Kagome in the eye, “I shall get you something to eat.” 

“Huh?” 

“You must be hungry. A bowl of soba should suffice,” she replied, tone abrupt. “Unless there is something else you wish to sample?” 

Kagome arched an eyebrow. “Soba...soba’s fine. Are you sure you-” 

The girl had already left. By the time she returned with what was promised, Kagome was sufficiently confused. Kikyo pressed the bowl into her hands and sat down beside her, fiddling with the strands of hair cascading down her back. 

Fiddling? Kagome thought, swirling her soba noodles with her chopsticks. “Is this supposed to be an thank-you?” 

Kikyo cocked her head. Her finger halted its idle movements. “Is it not to your liking?” 

Kagome shook her head, stifling a laugh. “No...no, they’re delicious. A worthy gift for defending your honor. You might as well make me your knight.” 

“Knight?” Kikyo puzzled. 

“They’re like guards,” she described. “But also warriors in battle. They defend the kingdom’s people and their sovereign's honor.” She swept her head down in an elaborate gesture and added, “it’s an absolute honor , hime-sama, to serve-” 

“ Kagome ,” Kikyo choked out. If she’d been able to, she might have blushed. 

“What?” She teased. “Aren’t you going to grant me knighthood now?” 

“Is it truly that simple?” Kikyo remarked. She crossed her long legs and gazed at Kagome’s shoulder, where the light pink fabric snagged on the bamboo stalk behind them.  

Kagome managed a shrug. “I don’t know how it ever worked in real life. I’ve only read about them in books. In those, well...the knight would sorta grab the princess’s hand, kiss it, and declare his knighthood. And that would be it.” She paused, chopsticks hovering over her half finished bowl of soba. “I’m sure it’s more complicated than that, but...I don’t know. There’s something nice about simplicity.” 

“I see,” was all Kikyo said. She reached for Kagome’s hand, cradling it in her own. Her touch was cold, yet gentle, like collapsing in the soft hug of a winter snowdrift. She brought Kagome’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “Like this, then?” 

“Y-yes...” she murmured. Her chopsticks fell somewhere to the ground beside her. “Something...something like that.”  

Kikyo’s gaze met hers. “Forgive me,” she said, her lips curling into a subtle, sultry smile. “I forgot the declaration.”   

Her lips swept against Kagome’s cheek without a breath’s hesitation. 

The rest of the night was electric. 

That was the only term befitting of the evening. After eating, Kagome had found a way to drag Kikyo into the circles of dancing women, citing that, as her knight, Kagome’s insistence to have fun was truly a thinly veiled command.  

Kikyo had argued weakly on her behalf, but came along regardless, losing herself along with the others. It was strange seeing her act so loose and candidly delighted, the sight as rare as an eclipse and twice as beautiful. With the kiss on her mind, Kagome’s thoughts had unraveled into something of a mess, and all she could think about while they danced was the sway of Kikyo’s silken hair, the curve of her lips. The torment was endless.  

They’d gone to write wishes onto the trees they’d sat under earlier, then returned to the main road to engage in the remaining festivities. Kagome had only jokingly referred to Kikyo as her knight, but it seemed that she was taking her role rather seriously after their bout of dancing. Countless times a man would approach them, and Kikyo ensured she was planted solidly in front of Kagome, ready to defer him to the nearest inn. 

And speaking of inns – as they returned from another visit to the tanabata trees, Kikyo suggested they retire for the night. She’d noted all the rational reasons: they had to get an early start tomorrow if they wanted to make it back to Kaede’s village by mid-afternoon, and wouldn’t want to worry their friends. Plus, she’d added, they both knew that Inuyasha would come searching for them on his own if they didn’t arrive on time, and that was a debacle they should hope to avoid.  

It was a drearily solid argument. After Kagome excused herself to eat, and when she returned, she found the inn near empty. The celebrations were still ongoing, and many of the travelers attending, as she’d found out from the keen old innkeeper, were members of a merchant caravan that carried their own shelter with them. Members of the daimyo’s army had also traveled to the village for the festival, evidenced by their unsavory encounter earlier. Many had returned to the palace and would embark again tomorrow, should they wish to rejoin the festivities.  

Thus it was that the inns were eerily quiet when Kagome returned. She slid open the shoji screen door to their room and crept in, hoping that her steps wouldn’t disturb the other visitors.  

Kikyo sat on their futon, examining her arrows. Her long hair spilled behind her in a shadow of black, and she had yet to change out of her yukata, which was still as magnificent under the moon’s light as it had been during its first appearance. Kikyo’s dark eyes slid towards the entrance, and Kagome remembered with stark clarity – the kiss. 

Kagome walked in slow strides, kneeling on the futon at Kikyo’s side. “You aren’t going to rest?” 

“I am well enough,” was the curt response. “But you should. I shall keep vigil.” 

“I’m not that tired,” she insisted. “And you were the one who wanted to come back.” 

“Because you need your rest,” Kikyo shot back. Her harsh expression melted into one of regret. “You need your rest,” she repeated. “Sleep.” 

“Is that an order?” 

Kikyo’s lips parted. “Hm?” 

“I asked if that was an order,” Kagome murmured. Her heart thrummed in her chest. In truth, she had no idea what she was doing, goading Kikyo like this. Maybe it was hope that made her act so coy, or perhaps the setting. Dark, cool, with a misty wind pouring through the window, their bodies close enough to fall into one another. She couldn’t explain a word of her feelings if she tried. All her years of schooling, out the window the moment Kikyo gave her that look, the one that said she might do something to ruin them both. 

A hand tucked away a stray wisp of hair behind the Kagome’s ear. Fingers ghosted Kagome’s neck, reigning her in.  

Sleep , Kikyo had demanded. As if she had wanted sleep to whisk away the drunken memories of the night. As if she’d thought Kagome would somehow forget, if only she was allowed to lay her head down and gather herself up. 

Kagome had always been the one to gather up Kikyo’s pieces after a battle – her broken arms, her severed ankles. She was the one who healed the miko’s broken body, every time. The juxtaposition of those incidents to this one nearly made her laugh.  

Now it was Kikyo who gathered up Kagome, piece by fractured piece. She brought Kagome down, her hands as sturdy and sure as when she’d flaunted her skill with the bow, and kissed her. Kagome’s hands searched for something to hold onto, and she settled on Kikyo’s lower neck, bringing herself closer as the kiss deepened. Kikyo’s lips moved over hers, just as chilling as before, sending tendrils of thrill and uncertainty down Kagome’s spine. 

She was completely falling apart. They hardly stopped for a breath – Kikyo didn’t need it, and Kagome didn’t want it. When she pulled away, Kikyo reeled her back in, her tongue and lips returning with greater ferocity, like she couldn’t stand being denied Kagome’s touch for even a second.  

She was uncertain how long they were wrapped up in one another, but eventually she found her head falling onto the futon, and a body pale as moonlight gliding over her, and she didn’t think about time for a second longer. 

The lanterns were snuffed. Villagers dressed in worn yukata milled through the streets in thin groups, cleaning up after the celebrations from yesterday. Children yawned sleepily as they trailed their mothers, picking up fallen streamers with limp limbs and dim eyes.  

The shadow of two women exiting an inn caught only a few people's attention. They carried with them no finery or tidy appearance; both had an air about them that spoke volumes. The elder girl strode forward with a restlessness in her pace, the girl behind her looked as though she’d walked out of a steaming spring. The one in miko robes held a protective, if not fond, stance over the other, but none noticed it beyond her stony posture and exuberant, flowing hair.  

A curious pair, the villagers decided. Both strangers descended into the woods and the morning’s tasks resumed, but the visage of the two women, contrasting harshly against the other, never faded from their collective thoughts.