Where the West Wind Blows by Evil-sama

The Lady of a Thousand Autumns

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.

A/N: Revised, expanded, and otherwise beautified for the new year.

Time has passed for the Inu-tachi after the sealing of the well, trapping Kagome in the feudal era. Now in service to Sesshomaru’s mother, Kagome meets them all again as unrest in the north draws them back together.

Where the West Wind Blows

-Chapter One-

The Lady of a Thousand Autumns

It ended with a simple phrase: "I wish to make an unselfish wish." The paradox of making a unselfish wish, an action by its nature selfish, marked the end of a campaign that had defined Higurashi Kagome's childhood. But it was also a beginning of a new journey. Such is the cyclical nature of all life.

-from the Records of Spirit and Flesh, chapters on the Jewel of Four Souls

            There is a conceit unique to the young and the foolish; only they may believe that there are things untouchable by time. Everyone else, through bitter experience, became accustomed to the truth that even feelings cannot remain unchanged. Especially in the face of drastically altered circumstance. For months after the Jewel was destroyed, Kagome had been blind to the changes in the people around her--living with the reality of Kikyo should have taught her a great deal about that kind of willful blindness, but it was a trait born of optimism and not self-interest, which meant it was a thing easily forgiven by friends and eagerly utilized by enemies.

            But three years had given her time and perspective. It was with fondness she looked back at that golden time, but she knew the changes were all for her friends' happiness and she was the last person on the planet who would begrudge them that well-deserved emotion. It was almost as if the Jewel had been their great metaphor: disparate pieces gathered for a greater purpose and when that had been fulfilled, they melted away like dew at dawn.   

            No one had said goodbye.

            No one had felt the need to. It had seemed, to each of them, Kagome included, that the separation would be brief. For a week, for a season, but then that season had turned into a year, then that year had given birth to the new one, and then was born again. Three years. Short and long, all at once, strange as only the human perception of time can be.

            Shippou had learned by leaps and bounds on their journey, but his battle tricks couldn't replace the systematic education that his father could no longer give him. Modern parents sent their children to boarding school, so it wasn't like Kagome was a stranger to the idea. And, perhaps also like modern parents, Kagome had forgotten how quickly children adapted--soon his journeys back to the village grew shorter, the intervals between his appearances longer. And when she'd left the village, they'd all but stopped altogether.

            Sango, freed from her long and tormented journey to avenge her village, had one day decided to take a purifying journey, to look at the world with new eyes. She'd ended that journey after two seasons in the same place where her story had begun, in the destroyed village of slayers. But she hadn't been alone. This was the Warring States era. Orphans were a fact of life. But Sango had seen in these some promise or perhaps some reflection of herself. Kagome had been there to help raise the first buildings. She wondered, upon occasion, what it was like now.

            Miroku always wrote to her about it in his letters, but the letters were few and far between and his visits to Sango's village even rarer. Sango wasn't the only one suddenly free of the burdens of her past. Without the Wind Tunnel, Miroku had found he was younger than he'd thought and far more curious. He'd gone back into training and traveling, though he'd written that he and Sango had a ritual: when he came to call, he always told her in utmost seriousness that she had an evil aura hovering about her house.

            Inuyasha had remained Inuyasha, but it was his fault that Kagome had left the village. It was a thought couched in fondness and more than a little humor, for she doubted Inuyasha could have predicted in a thousand years what had happened.

            Youkai were strange and capricious creatures. Kagome simply hadn't known how capricious until a faction of inuyoukai with nothing but trouble on their minds had taken it into their claws to press for recognition of Inuyasha as a legitimate heir to the dearly departed Inutaisho.

            "No way in hell," had been his none-too-delicate response to that, but no one had asked Inuyasha. After all, they weren't actually interested in sullying the family tree of their illustrious general. What they were interested in was alleviating the inevitable boredom that came along with near immortality. At least, she would come to find, such political maneuvers were rare--inu generally left that sort of dirty, sly thing to the neko.

            But appropriate gestures had to be made, the procedures followed. Inuyasha had marched off, full of ire and more than a few poorly chosen words to be heard before his brother, in his incarnation as Lord of the West. Given that Sesshomaru had no mate, Kagome had been left to appear before the Lady of the West in the Court of the Moon.

            She just hadn't realized, at the time, that she wouldn't be leaving said Court again. 

             Chiaki-sama had been fascinated by her.  It was not the reaction Kagome--or much of anyone else--had expected. “Both my son and former mate seem entranced by mortals. What is it that makes you so interesting?” she had demanded. Kagome would learn that while some questions might seem rhetorical, Chiaki-sama generally expected answers when she asked a question, even one as baffling as this.

            First came the delays to her departure. Chiaki-sama had insisted on being told of all her adventures, in what Kagome thought was excruciating detail. The thoroughly modern girl had thought they might need to amputate her legs at the knees from long hours of sitting seiza in front of the lady's great dias. At the end of the three day visit that had stretched to a week, when Kagome had been prepared to tender her goodbyes, the inu had announced, easy as you please, “You will stay with me for a season.”

Kagome had stuttered out a reply into to dissuade without offending. “Surely your ladyship wouldn’t want to keep an untrained human miko in your august court.”

Her concern wasn't only because she had no desire to continue on in the nerve-wracking environment of Chiaki-sama's court. Though that was a primary concern. Kagome had almost reached her limit on condescending comments. But there was a more personal reason--one she hadn't even discussed with Inuyasha, because Kagome wasn't certain he would understand. Being a youkai, it was in his nature to chase after power.

Kagome was no stranger to the need for power, either. She'd certainly developed enough self-esteem issues when comparing herself to Kikyou. But there was such a thing as too much power. Especially when you had youkai friends and your particular brand of power was purification--purification that now surged and ebbed like some great tide almost beyond her control. Some days were worse than others. On good days, everything proceeded much as it had for the first three years she'd spent in the past. On bad days, purification crackled like static electricity between her and any youkai who drew too near.

Kagome wasn't optimistic enough to hope that Chiaki-sama hadn't noticed her uncontrollable power spikes. She was optimistic enough to hope that it would be a very good reason for the lady to send her home.

She was also wrong.

In a gesture eerily reminiscent of her son, a silver brow had risen imperiously. “I will make arrangements for your training. You will stay, until I discover what is so appealing about humans.”

“But why…?”

“You are less offensive than any ningen I have yet smelled. You will be suitable.”

It was an answer only an inu could give and expect to be taken seriously.

Kagome was fairly certain she could be given a hundred years and three tutors and she still wouldn't find inu culture anything less than bizarre. Whereas curiosity was generally regarded as a childish attitude in everyday life in modern culture, especially the kind of over-bearing and invasive curiosity the inu practiced, not only was it accepted in inu-youkai culture, it was actively encouraged and  cultivated among the long-lived creatures.

This, unfortunately, did not bode well for Kagome's future freedom, as their casual curiosity might well last for the rest of her life. But she had come to the Court of the Moon in an official diplomatic position. If Chiaki-sama wanted to make her a permanent attachment to her entourage, Inuyasha didn't have enough political sway to stop her. And in order to keep head and body of her best friend together, Kagome had managed to convince him that storming the castle in the clouds with its elite guards was not a good course of action.

And so she had become Chiaki-sama's miko, a designation more literal than a free-minded modern was really comfortable with. While Sesshomaru was the occasionally contested ruler of the Western Fortress and its attached lands, Chiaki-sama was undisputed alpha of her estate. The advantage of a floating castle, Kagome supposed, was that you really could throw people you disliked over the edge of the world.

Everything and everyone within belonged to Chiaki-sama. None of her retainers had done more than raise a few well-groomed brows at their lady's pronouncement. She'd thought sourly that they might be curious as well, given the infamous nature of the Inu no Taisho's choice of concubine.

But it was a reciprocal relationship--for undivided loyalty and obedience, Chiaki-sama made certain her subordinates were well provided for. In one of her innumerable pronouncements, she'd set aside an unused garden and pavilion for Kagome's use. Later, she would find both garden and pavilion had a colorful history, belonging as they had to the favorite concubine of the previous occupant, who Chiaki-sama had dispatched handily when she'd left her husband's estate in a snit when he first came home smelling of human in places that couldn't be explained even by his glib tongue.

This particular Court of the Moon had a very short history by youkai standards, being less than a century old, but the line of the Moon itself was old and distinguished. It was explained to her later that this castle could technically be more accurately called the "Lesser Court of the Moon," the "Greater Court of the Moon" being ruled by Chiaki-sama's older brother from a castle somewhere to the north, which by description Kagome couldn't tell if it was on a mountain or it was a mountain.  

Then they destroyed both garden and most of the pavilion and built a shrine in the expansive courtyard they had created. Chiaki-sama had looked on with satisfaction, having sent envoys to the famous shrines to investigate the architecture. When Kagome had tentatively asked her which kami she intended to enshrine, Chiaki-sama had huffed. "As if I would invite a god to live in my house. Make do."

Kagome, baffled, because it was counter-intuitive to the whole of Shinto make a shrine without a god, had been left with little option to continue as she'd been doing. Which was trailing in Chiaki-sama's wake.

Chiaki-sama was as good as her word--practitioners of every faith, from the length and breadth of Japan, suddenly found themselves apt to be "borrowed" for a few sessions. Luckily, the journey into the clouds and back was surreal enough and short enough most dismissed it as a dream or vision. Or the people they told looked on it as a spiritual journey full of metaphor, rather than a "ningen-napping" as the progressively more amused guards began referring to it.

She was aggressively non-discriminating, though it might be more accurate to say that Chiaki-sama, being one of the beings they were debating about, cared very little for the trappings of human religion. And she was aggressively, intrusively curious about seeing spiritual powers in action.

It was she, in fact, who insisted on Kagome's first shiki, after an unlucky practitioner of onmyou had tried to subdue one of the servants.

Which brought her to the present, more or less, if she ignored the strange happenings that just seemed to dog her. Pun intended.

-X-X-X-

Kinakihiko, better known to Chiaki-the-Great-and-Heinous-Bitch as shikigami no. 2 and to Call-Me-Kagome-sama as Aki, bore his mistress’ muttering with his characteristic good humor. There were not many dogs who could pull the wool over the eyes of a kitsune as old and powerful as he, but the old bitch had certainly gotten him good.

Unlike the inu, he didn't suffer from overweening pride: when offered the choice between suffering the indignity of being a miko's servant or an indeterminate sentence with Chiaki-sama's pet torturers and courtiers, he'd opted for the human. She, at least, had an expiration date, something not always guaranteed with the tetchy inu, who didn't take thievery lightly, even when it was only as a joke, from one daiyoukai to another. Surely having eight tails should grant him some leniency; but no, there were only the lady's words: "It only means you are old enough to know better. I should increase your sentence for rank stupidity."

So had Kinakihiko met Higurashi Kagome, the girl who'd been less interested in him and more interested in watching Chiaki-sama warily. He'd approved immediately. His soon-to-be-mistress had been taller than the usual human female, though not so tall as a youkai, lending her a certain air of vulnerability that was increased by her slender mortal body.

It was all a blatant lie.

What she was was a vast reservoir of power, hidden poorly once the unfortunate youkai made contact with her skin. As Aki had been kneeling at the time, courteously aiding her in subduing himself in a kind of formal play (Chiaki-sama was attempting to standardize the process of collecting voluntary shiki, they would find out later, with metaphoric attempts to escape and rote lines--if there wasn't a ceremony for it, the lady could  and would invent one) there hadn't been far to fall, but he was still tempted as her first, accidental touch sent lightning arcing across his skin.

She'd winced as well, almost fumbling the elegant jade beads Chiaki-sama had provided for the occasion. But over his head the double strands had went and the binding had proceeded apace. Aki had needn't an actual conversation with Chiaki-sama to anticipate the "more fool you" tone she would take, so he hadn't even bothered. Until about a week later, when he couldn't take it anymore.

It went exactly as anticipated.

Aki consoled himself with the thought that in thirty years he'd have his ninth tail. Then, perhaps, he could went his freedom from Kagome-sama. He'd made it his business to ingratiate himself with his new mistress, which wasn't terribly difficult. If Kagome-sama didn't have the dormant power to erase a citadel from the map, she would have been eaten long ago.

She was just so terribly nice, though of late she'd grown a backbone, probably a defense mechanism to the damn pushy inu that populated the Court of the Moon. But she still chronically underutilized her shiki--if anything, there were times when he was fit to perish of boredom. She didn't have enough demands for one servant, let alone three. But three she had, until it pleased Chiaki-sama to make another prisoner. Not that Seiichi or Karakurenai seemed to have the same sensitivity he possessed.

Though Nai-chan did get to leave the Court more often--as he was absent now. Not that he wanted much to do with the vicious, sharp-toothed oni, but still, if he had to suffer, they should all suffer alike.

Kagome's snarling finally brought Aki's attention back to his mistress. "I should cut it just to spite her," she was grumbling as she flicked the long strands of dark hair irritably over her shoulder. Aki chuckled, ire dissipating. Slipping a comb from his sleeves, he deftly pulled her hair back and secured it in the traditional low tail of a Shinto miko.

Then, because he knew it would exasperate her, he made Kagome-sama stand with her arms outstretched, so that he could make certain her costume was unwrinkled, with the folds falling as they should. When she'd first come to the Court of the Moon, Kagome-sama had possessed a strange aversion to the clothes of her calling, but little things like that had never stood in the way of Chiaki-sama's will for long. 

When he was satisfied, he smiled at Kagome-sama as she inspected her appearance in a small, round mirror. "You look very pretty," he told her. The compliment, as usual, left her unmoved. She'd flushed at every small kindness for weeks, but after three years, Aki had to do something truly outrageous to make her blush.

"I should cut it just to spite her," Kagome snarled beneath her breath. "We aren't living in the Heian period anymore."

            Aki, who had actually lived through the Heian period and found it fairly amusing, nodded mock-gravely. Once Kagome-sama had exhausted her complaints about her hair, she strode across the room and slid open the screen, opening it to the winter waiting outside. Just the sight of the snow blanketing the ground made him wish for a warm brazier, hot drinks, and small games indoors. But Kagome-sama, despite being far more prone to take cold than her youkai servants, was of a hardy, outdoors sort of disposition. Or, at least, she was prone to an outdoors disposition when inclement weather drove the more courtly youkai inside with fewer distractions.

Aki pulled the waiting fur from atop the chest of Kagome-sama's clothes, draping the heavy bear pelt across her shoulders, her dark hair blending perfectly into the shining fur. If he hadn't been there himself when she killed it, he would have sworn it was a demon from the size of the pelt, which had made not only the cloak she now wore, but also thick gauntlets and fur-edged boots.

Now Kagome-sama came at last to the real reason for her preoccupation with the state of her hair:  worry. "Chiaki-sama usually has the inu youkai patrol during the winter. I hope nothing is wrong. This summons sounded unusual."

 “I doubt even the kami themselves know that female’s mind,” Aki replied, though he too was curious. "Perhaps it is only a whim of Chiaki-sama's temper." It was one of the few allowances she made to the mortal frailty none were quite certain Kagome now possessed, a respite from her normal duties during the harshest months of winter. Once one accumulated so much reiki that it became imperative to spend it in endeavors like subduing shiki and still having enough left over to purify a platoon with a single arrow, human was a term in some dispute.

Kagome-sama didn't look convinced. "Sei-san, have you heard anything?"

Her first shiki looked up from where he'd been kneeling outside the door, quite at ease in the cold. Seiichi was the son of an old enemy, now dead, who nonetheless had posed some risk to Chiaki-sama's interests. But a consideration for how he might serve her in the future had kept him among the living, just as that same foresight had saved Aki. Both shiki shared another thing in common--they were tremendously powerful, but neither had land nor retainers to protest, if Chiaki-sama usurped their freedom. It had been a trend only broken by Karakurenai, better known as Nai-chan, whom Kagome had subdued for her own protection--the oni had been trying to eat her at the time.

Sei's look of thoughtful consideration emphasized the fine, pearlescent patterns of scales still visible on the edge of his eyes and the back of his hands. His coloration, which included crystalline blue hair that ended abruptly before it touched his shoulders, with the exception of two floor length sections that were probably the manifestation of his whiskers, made him seem at home in the weather. Aki shivered as the dragon thought. Eventually, he said, "There have been rumors of disturbances to the north, but I have heard nothing specific. If something has happened, Chiaki-sama is keeping it close."

Aki shivered again, this time with something other than the cold. The north was the domain of the dragons. Any trouble coming from that direction would be something serious--if he had his choice, they would spent the duration of the disturbance far to the south. By far and large, the ryuu were peaceful and philosophical, born of the rains of spring, summer, and autumn. But the dragons of winter were fierce and ambitious enough to account for all their brethren. With breath like a blizzard and a heart to match, Aki would as soon spent a summer with the sly neko to the south or the eternally warring wolves of the east.

Kitsune were far too intelligent to bother with interference in the politics of their youkai brethren. They preferred to meddle in the affairs of the weak-minded and short-lived humans.

While he was considering the implications of the northern troubles, Sei had risen in a strangely boneless movement, ready to accompany Kagome-sama.

With a sigh, his mistress began the journey along the covered halls, her expression carefully neutral. Several times, they were stopped by courtiers who'd heard of her summons and perhaps the same rumors, but Kagome-sama was too wise now to offer them incomplete information or news she didn't have Chiaki-sama's leave to spread.

The guards outside Chiaki-sama's current room of residence nodded greetings as Kagome knelt before the doors and was granted admittance.

It was a small room, Aki's quick eyes saw, the doors to the garden outside left open, the flowers there in full bloom, as if it was high spring, but encased in a delicate layer of ice. A large square brazier kept the room temperature steady, the orientation of the room sheltering it from the winter winds. The great dog herself was seemingly paying great attention to the flowers outside, but the slight tilt of her lips downward indicated more serious thoughts.

But then Aki was obliged to sit with his eyes cast down, being the lowest of the low--shiki to a human. Even when said human was the court spiritual advisor, bizarre as that situation would seem. 

-X-X-X-

            Kagome could almost hear Aki’s complaints in her head, which was a dangerous situation when she needed her full attention to devote to Chiaki-sama and her demands. The eight-tails vacillated between being hilariously funny and almost unbearably whiny. Now, she loved Shippou with all her heart, but she was beginning to think it was a species trait. It was no wonder that most of the stories that had survived into her time pictured them as females. Compared to the much rougher ideal of manhood that survived in this era, they were almost effeminate. And definitely childish.

            “How may this humble miko please this great one?” she asked after she had tendered the requisite bow to her alpha.

            She was a little surprised when Chiaki-sama didn’t answer immediately. As an immortal youkai with inordinate wealth and the almost slavish devotion of a whole host of retainers, she still despised waste, whether it was of resources or time, but she could be surprisingly generous. Chiaki-sama was a whole host of contradictions: she despised the subtle political games of the neko, but she could play them as well or better than her enemies, she disliked humans but was tempted by their ability for innovation, she could in one moment be a warrior unmatched by any but her own  offspring, the next be the kind of noble who spent decades arranging her gardens to her pleasure.

            There was only one thing not in doubt; Chiaki-sama was most pleased when she was confusing people.

            Her jumble of convoluted thought dissipated when the lady fixed her with a stare that still reminded her eerily of Sesshomaru. “Your contact with your pack, it has been rather sparse, yes?”

            Kagome bowed her head, confused. “Your orders, Chiaki-sama.” I will not have half the world trampling through my court, had been her exact words when her friends had petitioned to visit her.

            “Yes, my orders. I was surprised when you didn’t rebel against them.” Unlike Sesshomaru, Chiaki-sama didn’t often address herself using the formal third-person. When she did, everyone tried to be very far from the bloodbath that would ensue. It helped that her court was generally composed only of trusted retainers—guests of high rank were few and far between. If Chiaki-sama wanted to see someone, she generally imposed on them, not the other way around.

            “We have all been very busy,” Kagome replied carefully. Not to mention actually locating half of her companions to deliver the letters took half a season. Inuyasha’s letters were left at Edo in the care of Kaede, but the dog never bothered to write back. Miroku sent some rather polite but usually very informative letters every few months. Sango, for all her skill with any weapon that found its way into her hand, was barely literate and Kagome always felt bad when she imagined the proud headwoman struggling through a letter written with the modern idioms and characters that hadn’t quite disappeared from her writing, no matter how good she’d been at classical Japanese in school. So Kagome usually asked Miroku to deliver her news to Sango, solving both the communication problem and doing her own not-so-subtle matchmaking in one fell swoop.

            Though she wouldn’t live to see it, Kagome was looking forward to the invention of the telephone. And commuter trains. If there’d been trains when they’d been looking for the Shikon, the quest might have taken a few weeks instead of years.

            “Hn. No matter. You have enjoyed your time in my court?”

            Kagome regarded the question warily, like one might a spider or snake. It sounded like a leading question. Chiaki-sama had shown no indication of being bored with Kagome, but it was hard to tell. “Yes, majesty.”

            “I was pleased with your ceremony for a good harvest. Very entertaining.” Chiaki-sama’s teeth were very white, despite the lack of modern dental care. Good, strong teeth for ripping out the hearts of her enemies, Kagome supposed.

            She bowed her head again. “This miko is very glad to have offered this small service, majesty.” For while Chiaki-sama might be allowed to drop polite speech in her own court, Kagome had seen newcomers punished for the presumption. She was uncertain how many years she needed to be in the youkai’s court before she became one of the ornaments. Kagome rather hoped not to be here long enough to find out. Though it wasn’t like she was a bird trapped in a cage here—in the warmer months, Kagome typically found herself "patrolling" the inuyoukai’s territory, though she had yet to discover what she was patrolling it for.

            Mostly she went around doing standard miko duties. Benevolence and aid to the sick and suffering, ceremonies to invoke rain in times of drought, purification of especially destructive youkai. The last sometimes gave her the impression that Chiaki was using her as some kind of miko assassin for trouble-making youkai, but Kagome hadn’t been able to let her reservations about Chiaki-sama’s motives stop her from helping the people whose homes, lands, and lives were being destroyed by the demons.

            And despite being Tokyo-born and bred, Kagome had some useful tricks up her sleeve when it came to farming and irrigation that had earned her praise as a kind of low-grade land kami from the humans she imparted them to. She thanked the kami for television and all those science classes she’d had to suffer through, just as she reassured herself that she wasn’t changing the timeline, because everything she’d done here had already happened in her future. And it wasn’t like she was teaching them genetic manipulation or anything. Just helpful hints here and there.    

            “You will be glad to know you will be seeing your pack again. I have heard they have gathered in Edo. Apparently, that child that my son is so fond of has somehow gotten herself involved with Ryuryo’s troubles up north.”

            “Was Rin-chan harmed, majesty?” Kagome asked urgently.

            “I do not know. My mate’s other brat has claimed that territory as his own and does not bother to send me news.” And if she didn’t know better, Kagome thought Chiaki was actually a little miffed by that.

            “What is your majesty’s desire of this respectful miko?”  It would be uncharacteristic of Chiaki-sama to send aid, even if Sesshomaru was involved.

            She was not disappointed. “You will go and observe. You may interfere if you cannot help yourself, but it would be best if you do not help my son. Who has tried to kill you on several occasions, which you should keep in mind if he is foolish enough to find himself in need of your aid.”

            It was no wonder, Kagome thought wryly, that Sesshomaru had grown up to be ‘The Killing Perfection.’ With a dam like Chiaki, his only other option would have been to be ‘The Dead Failure.’

            “This one will leave immediately,” Kagome said with another low bow. Chiaki-sama’s castle wasn’t exactly accessible, but if she rode Sei she could be in Edo in no time at all. And frozen half-to-death, but that was the cost of quick travel in the winter. Unless…

            “Kuroren will accompany you. He will also brief you on the exact nature of the troubles in the north on the way.”

            And there it was. Kagome, despite having lived in the Warring States period for six years, still didn't have quite enough knowledge about medieval military structure in general and Chiaki-sama's forces in specific to really understand what function Kuroren performed in Chiaki-sama's army, except that it was a leadership position, but not the leadership position. If Chiaki-sama didn't fill that herself, that function belonged to Hideyoshi, who was best not spoken of.

            Even though Kagome had both her shiki and the more than rudimentary training that Chiaki-sama had forced on her, she had become a political figure after her first year, spiritual advisor to the lady. Kagome herself still wasn't certain what she did as court spiritual advisor, unless the aforementioned duties counted, but she was apparently important enough to rank a bodyguard.

            And Kuroren was inevitably that guard. Which was probably another sign of Chiaki-sama's sense of humor in play, for a single, very important reason: Kuroren could have been Naraku's body double.   Youkai were handsome, in general. When Aki wasn’t whining, he was downright charming with his laughing green-gold eyes, acrobat’s physique and long red-gold hair that he wore back in a braid. Sei was equally as stunning, though he looked less human than the others, and he was endearing in his own quiet way. And if you could look past some really terrible habits to Nai's exterior, he was also very handsome, in a masculine, kill-you-as-as-soon-as-speak-to-you way, complete with the distinctive hair that had earned him his name and curling ram's horns in shining black.

            In specific, Kuroren ranked up there with Inu no Taisho’s sons (Or, if she were more honest, Sesshomaru, because Inuyasha had always been less pretty and more rugged. She had not fallen in love with his looks or his mouth. Except his ears. She had fallen hard for those ears and she sometimes wondered what that said about her own proclivities.). If Naraku had been a full-blooded inuyoukai and was a great deal less psychotic and a great deal more snuggly, they could have been dead ringers for each other.

            In her three years at the Court of the Moon, she had learned more than she'd ever wanted to about inu youkai culture. She had learned, for example, that the reason Chiaki despised Inuyasha's mother was not for the straightforward reason that the Inu no Taishou had slept with her. That, as disturbing as it was, though not unusual by medieval standards, was par the course for inu, though unlike among humans it was a more equal opportunity situation. Chiaki had no room to speak, having her own catamites, though she'd been a great deal more subtle about it, because well-bred inu did not flaunt their conquests, unless said conquest happened to be an enemy general. But the enormous breach of inu etiquette was that he'd pupped her, a privilege reserved for the alpha female. In fact, among inu, it would have been physically impossible for Inu no Taisho to breed any of the females besides his chosen mate. It simply didn't happen and his breeding with a human, no less, had been nothing short of the gravest kind of insult.  

            It was the equivalent of Chiaki slaughtering Sesshomaru--a rejection of everything their mate-bond was supposed to represent. It had inspired the most bitter of Chiaki-isms: "A dog will be loyal to his master but not his mate."

            Kagome still wrestled with indecision over how she should feel about this situation. A modern girl, her first instinct was to sympathize with Chiaki-sama. The level of bitterness that still lingered beneath her humor seemed an indication that she'd had deep feelings for her deceased mate, though Chiaki would have been a woman difficult to love. And, even if Inu no Taisho hadn't returned those feelings, he should have known the proud and powerful lady wouldn't react well to being publicly shamed. In fact, Kagome was really starting to doubt Inu no Taisho's sanity: a man who would cross both Chiaki-sama and Sesshomaru, even for love, would have had to be more than a little crazy.

            And though she felt bad for Izayoi, there was every indication that she'd known she was becoming an adulteress: even if she'd been ignorant of youkai culture, human culture also condemned the actions she was taking.

            But her thoughts on the matter could chase themselves in circles for hours. Of more immediate relevance among inu youkai cultural peculiarities were the non-sexual skinship practices. Sesshomaru, with his aversion to touch, was apparently a glaring exception in inu culture. Part some inborn disgust, part exceptional power that he hadn't had such control over when young, and part, Kagome suspected, some complex over his father, everyone agreed that Sesshomaru was peculiar in the way that great men are peculiar and no one thought much about it.

            Everyone else snuggled, cuddled, and generally touched in a way that would made any Japanese feel oppressed. Especially when sleeping. It was a practice that had probably followed them from their chill caves somewhere in the distant past, but it was uncommon to find an inu who slept alone by choice. It was usually reserved as a kind of low-level psychological punishment.

            Kuroren thought of lending her his body heat as an act of kindness, even if she was too deaf to appreciate the comforting beat of his heart. The first time she'd awoke to hell-red eyes, Kagome thought she'd fallen into a nightmare. And he just watched her with placid, terribly inu eyes as she stumbled over herself in trying to explain why she'd prefer he stay at a comfortable distance.

            It made no difference.

            It did not help that Aki, usually useful in such situations of cultural misunderstandings, found the whole thing deeply hilarious. And Sei was no help at all. And consulting Nai? Not even to be considered. Oni regularly ate their young. Any cultural divide that broad wasn't going to be crossed, let alone be used as a bridge.

            So it became a standing joke in court that Kuroren was the Miko's General.  

In a court where white inu prevailed and their accompanying colors of white, silver, and red were seen everywhere, his black and purple colors were distinctive. And unlike Sesshomaru or Chiaki-sama, his poison was not acidic, but was somnolent. Mild poisoning caused nightmares that were hard to wake from and fatigue that could last for days, extreme poisoning actually put the victim into such a deep state of rest that their heart stopped.

“Bring me back interesting stories, miko.” Chiaki-sama said by way of dismissal.

Kagome made sure her steps were measured as she and her companions returned to her pavilion, because running in the castle was frowned upon, but she fumbled with eagerness to be gone as she gathered her weapons. Across the room, Sei and Aki argued quietly over the contents of her saddlebags. She frowned at Aki until he finally capitulated and packed only things suitable for travel. The showy kitsune would have had her traveling like some sort of kept woman, if he had his way.

Kagome's fingers followed the familiar curve of the great black bow Chiaki-sama had awarded her, with its string of dragon gut. Several lashed bundles of arrows always sat at the ready, the bow still her primary weapon, and Kagome donned a full quiver with the distinctive paint stripes and notches that marked the arrows as hers. Kuroren, in one of his strange acts of goodwill, had taken it upon himself to acquaint her with swordsmanship, but to say Kagome's interest was limited was being kind. Her opponents were generally youkai and male, giving them every advantage of strength and long practice. Her method of long-distance warfare was a better match than her dismal sword skills could ever be. And as for close-range combat, she'd learned a trick or two with her over-abundant purification powers, though she still had to be very, very careful that no allies were nearby, because that sizzling white light did not discriminate.

It took them only about fifteen minutes to gather her things. They had, after all, been doing this for years now. Almost as long, she thought suddenly, as she had traveled with her friends.

As a testament to Kuroren's familiarity with her schedule, he appeared only minutes after they'd finished packing, though Aki was still arguing for the inclusion of some oddment or the other and Sei was refusing to carry it. "Are you prepared to depart, Higurashi-sama?" he inquired. As usual, he was dressed in his quilted traveling armor and tall boots, wavy hair falling loose down his back, katana hanging at his side. His specialization was spear combat, but just as in the human world, polearms were looked upon as being somehow lower than swords. It also made for awkward traveling.

"Yes," Kagome replied, quashing the small war as Sei smiled smugly at Aki.

Kuroren held something out to her. "Chiaki-sama thought to make provision for your journey." She confirmed that Chiaki-sama had provided Kuroren with her seal and a purse, which came as little surprise. No more ‘ominous clouds’ for Kagome. No, though she spent most of her nights sleeping beneath the stars, if she had need of say, a band of mercenaries or a small estate, Chiaki-sama provided plenty of human currency. Kagome tried not to think too hard on how such great piles of the stuff were collected.

I’ll see you soon, Inuyasha, she thought as Sei transformed in her personal courtyard, careful to avoid the shrine at the center.