Even before Kagome’s eyes shot open, her bow was armed and in her hands.

Rapidly she breathed through the lingering fog of her unconsciousness, her miko instincts firing at the foreign, near-undetectable youki feathering at the edges of her senses. Reiki flamed down the drawn shaft of her arrow, its light fit to blind as her power flared out at the point. Focusing hard through the glare, she could discern a tall, masculine figure who had been leaning above her slowly straighten away.

“Forgive me,” the demon said placidly, his resonant voice rippling over her like water through river stones. “I did not mean to startle you from your slumber.”

Kagome’s eyes narrowed, her grip not relaxing in the slightest. The fact that this strange youkai had clearly been concealing his presence filled her with instant distrust. Yet already she could feel the meager strength she’d regained from her few minutes’ rest starting to drain. Would Sesshoumaru hear her, she deliberated, if she screamed?

“Who are you?” she demanded at last, easing back into a more defensible position. “Why were you spying on me just now?”

“I am Hirokin,” he replied, opalescent claws gesturing fluidly toward the stream behind him. “These waters are my domain.”

Warily, Kagome regarded him. Eyes even bluer than her own held her gaze in turn. Clothed in cerulean and white silk, his whole form seemed to gently wave with some invisible current, his shoulder-length silver hair listing with a watery glow. In his hand was a staff of coral, ringed with a chime of silver beads and shells. Jewel-like fragments of the same red coral ringed his throat. At the sight of them, Kagome frowned.

“We’ve met before,” she realized, lowering her bow slightly. “A few weeks back, on a cliffside. You and some other guy who looks like you were in council with Sesshoumaru.”

“My elder brother,” Hirokin supplied. “Our father is a vassal of Sesshoumaru-sama’s.” His gaze flowed over her face. “You are his half-brother’s widow, are you not? The priestess Kagome.”

The miko tensed. “You sure seem to know a lot about me.”

“You are my lord’s pack sister,” he responded mildly. “That alone makes you worth knowing.” Significantly, he paused. “Yet your own reputation precedes you.”

Uncertain what to make of that remark, Kagome set her jaw. “Well. Sorry for crashing your war council that day—it was urgent.”

“Even so, in all the centuries I have known Sesshoumaru-sama, I have never seen him so quick to heed the summons of another,” Hirokin said, his tone vaguely musing. “It would seem that he esteems you greatly.”

Kagome’s cheeks pinked. Thinking of how Sesshoumaru had been manhandling her only a short while ago, she was inclined to differ. After a moment, Hirokin resumed speaking.

“Your apology is graciously received, though it was not a war council you interrupted, but a tedious errand ended none-too-soon—another shameless attempt by my father to curry favor with Sesshoumaru-sama, by offering him my two younger sisters.” Kagome blanched, Hirokin’s eyes glittering as he added, “They are considered quite beautiful, even amongst youkai.”

Looking at Hirokin, she could believe it. Bristling, she muttered, “Nothing personal against your sisters, but I don’t think they’re his type.”

“No,” he said, his gaze dwelling on her a beat too long for her liking, “I suppose not.”

Staring hard at him, she willed her erratic pulse to subside. How much did he know or suspect of Sesshoumaru’s derangement? Of her own involvement in it? Vassal or not, she couldn’t trust to his intentions. Resolving not to reveal anything further, she bit her tongue against all she still had the heated impulse to say.

“But I have kept you too long from your rest,” the river demon said, inclining his head. “No doubt we will meet again…Kagome-sama.”

She watched as he turned, strands of mother-of-pearl glimmering from the fishbone braid near his temple. Bare-footed, he stepped out into the stream, his white-edged form melding seamlessly with the current. Kagome exhaled shakily, her unlit weapons clattering from her stiff, cramping fingers. Black spots flecked her vision as she slumped to her side, passing out cold.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi