Desolate, Kagome watched after Kohaku long after he’d disappeared over the eastern horizon. She felt beaten, gutted. The heart-lifting success of her rescue mission now rung hollow in her chest.

The barrier dissolved behind her, an afterthought. She had no will to sustain it. No reason to, anymore.

Sinking to her knees, she felt all the adrenaline that had been keeping her upright rush out of her like water through a drainpipe. The extent of her injuries was enough to nauseate her all over again. Despite her best efforts to repress it, she bent over and retched, bringing up all the blood she’d swallowed down—and then some. Mixed red and black swirled together, a gruesome concoction. Tearing her bleary eyes away from the sight, Kagome staggered to her feet and soldiered on.

The warhorse was gone. Fled back to town, she could only figure. Sagging against the nearest tree, she struggled to formulate a plan. The sun would be setting soon, she knew. She needed to get back to the road before then. The wilderness here was far too dangerous for a lone, injured miko like herself.

Each step was pure torture as she pushed herself onward through the trees. Every minute or two it seemed, she had to stop and let the sparks fade from her eyes. Dryly now she heaved, as she dug her nails into the low-lying branches for support.

It was all she could do to drag her battered carcass to the edge of the treeline. The road was in view of her, at least. Her legs felt like jelly as she slid heavily to the ground. Gasping down deep breaths of the stale, muggy air, she took reluctant stock of the damage she’d dealt to herself. It was a bit better than she’d feared—she had enough reiki left to stanch the worst of her internal bleeding. The rest would just have to wait.

Feeling a little less like death-warmed-over, she let her head fall back against the trunk of the fir tree behind her.

A long, weary sigh breezed through the chapped parting of her lips. Kohaku might despise her, she reflected, but at least he was alive to do so. Among the despondent thoughts that plagued her, this one offered the best solace she could find. Grimacing, she shifted against the rough bark that grated along her spine—another groaning sigh leaving her as a familiar presence eddied the air around her, drifting toward her from that fell, dark river away to the west.

“My,” Hirokin said breezily as he loomed above her, peering down, “you look frightful.”

Somehow Kagome’s expression soured further. Turning her face away from the too-bright sight of him, she closed her eyes and drew in a fortifying breath.

“Trust me, I feel worse.” Turning back, she eyed him warily. “How did you find me, anyway? I didn’t summon you.”

“That barrier of yours rather drew my attention,” Hirokin said dryly. “Mine, and that of every demon within a hundred miles of here.”

“…Right,” Kagome muttered. “Well, the barrier’s gone now. Nothing else to see. So why don’t you just buzz off? After that sketchy shit you tried to pull, I’m surprised you have the nerve to show your face around me.” When he merely continued to loom, she added gruffly, “Go on. I’m trying to rest, and you’re distracting me.”

Leaning his coral staff lightly against his shoulder, Hirokin gave her a mild look of disapproval. “Forgive me, Kagome-sama, but you can hardly expect me to leave you alone in this weakened state. Who knows,” he said with a wry twist of lip, “what sort of creature might happen upon you?”

“I feel like you’ve already answered that question.” Opting for a change in tack, the miko added, “No offense, but as far as protectors go, you wouldn’t be my first choice. You’re like a fish out of water here.”

Hirokin smiled placidly in response. “I am growing rather used to your crude turns of phrase.”

Plucking a large plum leaf from the branch just above him, he cradled it in the palm of his hand. Kagome watched, grudgingly mesmerized, as water beaded like liquid crystal along its deep central seam. When the drops had coalesced into a small glittering pool, he handed it to her.

“Here,” Hirokin said, “this will soothe you.”

Kagome’s lips pursed. “You’re always trying to ply me with drink, aren’t you?”

The demon prince said nothing to this. Accepting the leaf all the same, Kagome tipped the cool draught of water down her throat. She winced at the icy chill of it, but the burning in her chest did dull a little.

“Thanks,” she said. “But what are you even doing here, really?—shouldn’t you be with Sesshoumaru?”

Hirokin’s placid smile didn’t waver in the slightest. “I am always precisely where I should be.”

Kagome let her head fall back against the craggy trunk with a sigh. These cryptic weirdos would never cease…

“Whatever, suit yourself,” she grumbled. “I’m too tired to care.”

Gracefully, Hirokin settled down beside her in the brush. Despite how posh and pretentious he was, he seemed to meld into their rugged surroundings with an elegance that vaguely irritated her. Balefully, Kagome glared at his resplendent, reclining form. His silver-blue robes pooled like living waves around him. Diamonds glittered like raindrops from the white-gold cuffs that studded the fine, fan-shaped edge of his ear. Catching her eye, he curved his lips into another fey smile, which set his androgynous features aglow.

“To think,” he said, “you might have been my lady in truth.”

“That was never even a remote possibility.”

“A pity,” Hirokin said, sounding almost convincing. “Shall I tell you a story to pass the time?”

“No thanks,” the miko said tersely.

“It is an old story,” he said. “Perhaps you have heard it before.”

“…So you’re just going to tell it anyway,” Kagome groused, as Hirokin’s sapphire eyes glittered at her.

“Once, there was a demon lord,” he began, “whose lady love perished most tragically before his eyes.” Above his palm a plume of shimmering mist formed, curving into a distinctly feminine shape. “With the help of his father, he restored her to life. But when she returned from the grave, she remembered him not, and married his kinsman instead.”

The plume extinguished in his fist like a smothered flame. A faint breeze rustled through the budding trees. Somewhere in the distance, a hawk cried, keening and shrill. In the light of the dying sun, Hirokin examined the iridescent sheen of his nails, as the seconds ticked idly by, and Kagome felt her blood pressure ratcheting up by degrees.

“That’s the worst story I’ve ever heard,” she exploded at last. “Is that really the end of it?”

“There is more to tell,” Hirokin replied, his expression serene. “But the hour grows late. A tale for another time, perhaps.”

“You’re really annoying, you know that?” Kagome snapped. “Some Robin you are. I almost feel bad for Sesshoumaru, having a side-kick like you.”

“Robin?” Hirokin asked, with a glimmering tilt of head.

“Never mind,” the miko said, snickering to herself. “That’s a tale for another time if there ever was one.”

It was reckless of her, alluding to the future in the presence of an immortal being. But Hirokin’s confounded glance was reward enough in Kagome’s mind. For a while, a tepid silence ensued between them. Kagome’s eyes grew heavy. Against all odds, she found her drowsing mind turning back toward his ridiculous tale.

“Maybe she just didn’t want to,” the miko murmured.

“Hm?” Hirokin said.

“The lady in the story,” Kagome replied. “Maybe she just didn’t want to remember what had happened to her. Maybe she just wanted to forget it all—him included.”

“Perhaps,” Hirokin said. “Or maybe you are only thinking of yourself.”

Kagome snorted. “Maybe. There’s a lot of things I’d forget, if I could.”

“Your first marriage, perchance?”

Jolted awake by this, Kagome cut her eyes to him. “Careful there, pretty boy. My relationship with Inuyasha isn’t a subject for you to casually weigh in on.”

Youki coiling around him in waves, the water demon’s eyes glinted at her slyly. “The depth of my regard for your past relationships might surprise you. Still, you humans are such hasty creatures. On the brevity of your bond with Inuyasha, I will comment regardless: What is a season or two, in the course of your life? My father courted my mother for a hundred, he loved her so.”

“I’d say it’s all relative, obviously. Humans don’t live for hundreds of years.”

“No, but Inuyasha was not mortal. And neither were you.”

Kagome glanced away. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. Inuyasha is dead, and I am as I was before. I know what meaning time has for me. But I wonder, really I do—what meaning does time have for a creature like you?”

For a few moments Hirokin was silent, as if he were actually pondering the question she’d put him to.

“Time does not mean death to us,” he answered, “only change. Our realm is immemorial. There, change is a weathering we must endure. But here, in your world, change cleaves like a blade. Even you yourself are far different now from the girl I first met years ago.”

“Years ago?” Kagome yawned, her eyes growing heavy once again. “Now there’s a tall-tale. Just because it may feel that way to both of us doesn’t make it so.”

“Yes, Kagome-sama,” Hirokin said, almost gently. “My mistake.”

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

Well the past week at work was murder, so this is the best I could do <3 Wanted to get this update out here, as it’ll probably be the last one for a week or so – I’m traveling next week to see family. More regular updates should resume after that. Thanks for your patience and have a great week!