It was a short walk through the woods to the closest stream. Kagome’s thoughts raced as she made the trek, Entei following along serenely beside her. As she knelt down on the bank and dipped the clay jug beneath the frigid surface, her youkai companion lowered his muzzle to the water as well, steam billowing up as he began to drink.

“I just don’t know, Entei-san,” Kagome began on a sigh, watching air bubble from the neck of the jug as the icy current flowed in. “Something comes over me when I’m around him. It’s like I’m not even in control of myself. And I don’t think it’s just me–he acts recklessly, too. I thought he hated me, and maybe he still does, but there’s such a strong attraction between us. I can’t deny it, and neither can he. I just don’t know what to do about it. It feels…dangerous.”

The jug grew heavy in her hold. Water sloshed over the top as she hefted it up, little crystals of entrained ice sparkling on the backs of her hands.

“The thing is,” she continued, her voice falling almost to a whisper, “I don’t think I can stop.”

I don’t want to stop, her mind confessed.

The past two years replayed in her mind. Almost from the beginning, he had been a fixture in her thoughts–from their first encounter outside the village, when he’d glared down at her from atop the shoulder of a massive oni–to the severing and sealing of his arm during their battle in the demon graveyard–to the long months she’d spent trying to undo the damage at his command–to the breaking of the seal and his subsequent regeneration–to the moment after, when he’d pressed her against a tree and she’d finally understood that he wanted her–to her frantic, uncontrollable purification of him and the fallout thereafter–to the even longer months she’d spent hiding away from him, agonizing over his touch, his words, the sear of his eyes–to her sheer exhilaration at seeing him again–to the feel of him between her thighs, in the cave, and the night before, and this morning, through her jeans. Two years of Sesshoumaru, two years of ever-spiraling lust. Two years for her to realize–

“I’m obsessed with him,” she admitted.

For a moment, the world seemed to go silent around her.

Entei paused mid-drink, glancing over as she set the jug down and began to pace. Well, there–she had said it. Now, what to do about it. Obsession was a destructive force–hadn’t she seen the consequences play out already? Inuyasha had been killed, Sesshoumaru had nearly died, Sango and Miroku had been gravely injured as well. All because of her. Because she had failed to keep her priorities straight.

A battle for the fate of mankind was being waged. She had loosed the Shikon no Tama upon the earth, and it was her responsibility to see it destroyed before it could wreak any more havoc–through Naraku or Mouryoumaru or anyone else.

“I have to rein this in,” she decided, looking toward Entei. “Until we’ve dealt with the Jewel, Sesshoumaru and I have to keep our distance. Surely, he’ll agree that that’s the right thing to do, don’t you think?”

Entei stared at her flatly. Kagome’s shoulders sank.

“And now I’m asking a horse for romantic advice,” she grumbled, running an exasperated hand through her bangs. “Sounds about right.”

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi