It was with a sense of growing trepidation that Kagome quickly made her way through the trees. It had seemed like such a good idea, to find out for sure whether she had killed Shippo’s tormentor. But now…did she really want to know?

Steeling her resolve, she pressed forward. As much as an affirmative answer would hurt, in the long run not knowing would probably do her more harm. Slowing as she approached the edge of the forest, Kagome looked out on the village. It was mostly quiet, the people having retired to their huts, but small parties of men still milled about with torches, keeping vigilant watch in case of another youkai attack. She grimaced. That’s how these people would see it. A youkai attacked them for no reason, and they did nothing wrong. And as much as she wanted to curse them for their prejudice, she couldn’t. Racism, whether it was against humans or youkai, was an integral part of human history. The Americans and thousands of other civilizations before them could tell you that. Sixty years earlier, her own countrymen had invaded China and treated the Chinese as less than animals. In this case, however, she couldn’t really blame the villagers for their bigotry. She really had become the stereotypical, mindless youkai that haunted their nightmares. Her memories of those few fateful seconds would surely revisit her during slumber for many years to come.

Two problems quickly became apparent to Kagome. The first was how to move around without being spotted. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation; her goal was to find out what she needed to know and scram. This difficulty could probably be overcome with caution and stealth. Her youki was restless, anxious to test its skill, just as it had been when she ran with Inuyasha to see Totosai. The second problem was that she had no idea which hut the wounded man lived in. The only way to track him would be by scent. Another option would be to just eavesdrop and hope one of the sentries spoke about what happened, but Kagome rejected that idea. She wasn’t going to be satisfied with hearsay; she had to know for sure.

So as much as it sickened her, she raised her right hand and sniffed deeply. At the stream, she had discovered the same problem Inuyasha had after he killed the bandits: blood washed off easily, but its scent did not. So now she knew what to look—er, smell for, and she wasted no more time before starting the search. Immediately she encountered another impediment: there were so many scents around, human and otherwise, that she would easily miss the one she was looking for if she moved too quickly. It was both tiring and tedious, but Kagome searched hut by hut, crouching low on the rooftops to avoid detection. It was probably at least an hour or two before she finally found the one she was looking for.

Unbeknownst to Kagome, a pair of golden eyes was attentively observing her progress. Inuyasha was impressed with her choice of search tactics, and even more amazed that she was able to sneak around so surreptitiously without being noticed. Then again, cats were naturally stealthy, and apparently so were cat hanyou. Hell, it looked like she could probably out-slink him! Not that he liked to creep around… No, to say he liked to make an entrance was to put it lightly. His favorite strategy was to charge in, sword-swinging, yelling like a banshee. Sneaking around was for pussies. It didn’t occur to him that he’d just called himself a pussy for all the times he snuck off to see Kikyou. What did occur to him, however, was how good Kagome was making it look. She moved with feline grace, the sight hopelessly entrancing him. Her shorts did very little to hide her shapely bottom when she arched her back, causing her blouse to ride up as well. The satin skin of her legs, navel, and arms glowed in the moonlight, and he raised his arm as if to caress it, remembering all the times in recent months he had seen her nude or nearly so, held her, kissed her…

Then, as his fingers touched only air, he remembered that he was sitting on a tree branch at least a hundred feet away from her. Blushing hotly at his foolishness, he swiftly lowered his hand. If anyone had seen that, he would have to either kill them or render them mute to make sure it was never spoken of. But could he help it that Kagome was so enticing when she allowed a little of her youkai side to show? Looking down, he frowned at what he already knew was there: a noticeable tent in his hakama. What the fuck is wrong with me?! Kagome’s having the worst experience of her life and all I can do is stare at her and get a boner! But there was no cure for it, at least not one he was willing to perform here. Besides, it would go away as soon something interesting happened. Satisfied, he returned his rapt attention to the vixen still making her way through the village.

Kagome froze on the rooftop. This particular hut carried the heavy scent of the man whose blood she had spilled. It was fairly fresh, but it didn’t smell like he was inside now. Kagome assumed the worst when she detected the salty aroma of tears and heard a woman crying. Rightfully so, it seemed. Making sure the coast was clear, Kagome leapt down to the street and cautiously peered into the hut. A woman, suffering from some kind of illness from the smell of it, was lying on a futon, weeping into a cloth. With a cold, numbing sensation in her gut, Kagome realized she recognized that cloth. It was the same plain haori her victim had worn just a few hours earlier. The bloodstains were still clearly visible.

Kagome fell back a few steps, nearly collapsing as her knees shook violently. She thought she had prepared herself for this, but now she couldn’t help the bile that rose in her throat. Getting down on all fours, she heaved it onto the dirt as quietly as she could. It wasn’t quiet enough. A soft gasp alerted her that she had company, and she looked up to see a young girl, probably not more than ten or eleven years old, staring at her with wide eyes. Said eyes narrowed, and the girl favored her with a hateful glower.

"What are you doing here? You already murdered my father. Are you planning to kill the rest of us, too?" At this final, damning confirmation of her deed, Kagome wretched again, her tears dripping into the puddle of vomit rapidly forming below her. She didn’t feel worthy to raise her eyes as she attempted to make amends.

"I’m sorry," was all she said. After a long silence, she finally raised her head and looked at the girl again. She was frowning, her eyebrows drawn closely together, deep in thought. Finally, she spoke.

"I’ll never forgive you."

Kagome shook her head. "I don’t expect you to. I just…I never meant to hurt him. I just wanted Shippo back, and I…I lost control of myself. I’m sorry," she repeated, sitting back on her heels with shoulders slumped pitifully.

"How is Shippo?" the girl asked suddenly. At Kagome’s dumbfounded expression, she sighed. "I’ll never forgive you for killing my father, but…it was wrong of him to hurt Shippo just because he’s a youkai. Is he ok?"

"He’s fine, and I know he’ll be glad to hear that you were worried about him, uh…"

"Tamiko."

"Thank you." Then, sensing there was nothing else to say, Kagome stood to leave. "I really am very sorry," she said, bowing deeply at the waist. Tamiko’s eyes softened slightly, but still maintained their hard edge.

"I know you are. Now get the hell out of here before my mother sees you." With that, she vanished inside the hut once more, leaving Kagome standing outside by herself. Or at least, that’s what she thought.

"You alright, wench?" Kagome jumped at Inuyasha’s voice, having been so distracted by Tamiko and her grief that she hadn’t noticed his scent on the breeze. Not trusting her voice, she shook her head in the negative. Sighing, Inuyasha placed his arm around her shoulder and started leading her away. He had to scoop her up in his arms as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop toward the tree line, not particularly caring if anyone saw them now. When he set her down again, she resumed walking, her distracted wandering taking her to no place in particular. She was staring off into space, lost in her own depressing world. Inuyasha was helpless, at a complete loss for words, but after a good amount of time had passed he tried again.

"What’s wrong, wench? I thought we talked about this."

She sniffled. "I know. I know it’s not really my fault, but…to know that I actually killed someone…it’s hard to deal with."

Inuyasha nodded in sympathy. "I know it is. Believe me, I know. But that bastard had it coming to him, hurting the runt like that… If you hadn’t done it, I might have." Inuyasha blinked repeatedly as another thought occurred to him. "Let me ask you something, Kagome. Whose life to you value more, Shippo’s or that bastard’s?"

Kagome frowned in consternation. "I don’t…I value all lives the same."

"Bullshit." At this, Kagome’s ire rose, and she glared at him in irritation. Well, at least I got a reaction out of her.

"Excuse me?" she asked incredulously, an osuwari on the tip of her tongue.

"I said bullshit, wench. It’s impossible to value all life the same. You care about your kid more than other people’s brats, you care about your husband more than other men, and you value your friends more than strangers. You think I give a flying fuck about those villagers compared to you lot? Feh!"

Seeing that she wasn’t going to respond, Inuyasha growled, but was determined to get his point across. "If you can honestly tell me that you value that bastard’s life the same as you do Shippo’s, then you don’t deserve to call yourself his friend." Kagome returned to staring into space, but Inuyasha could see that she was weighing his words carefully. She was still waging an inner battle; self-condemnation warred with logic and reason. But eventually the assurances of her friends won out. Perhaps if even one person close to her had blamed her, or expressed reproach at her actions, she could have crucified herself for this. But if no one she cared about condemned her, then how could she condemn herself?

"That still didn’t give me a right to kill him," she answered softly.

"No, it didn’t. But it gave you a damn good reason for it!" Kagome didn’t reply, but she did relax noticeably. She reeked of sadness, but there was life in her eyes. She was going to get over this. She was going to be ok. And if she slipped into depression, he would be there to pull her out. "You wanna go back to camp, wench?"

She shook her head. "No, just…just walk with me." She delicately removed his hand from her shoulder and clasped it between them as they meandered through the forest. Neither could say how long they wanted before they came across a large clearing. They sat down together against a tree, watching as the moon slowly made its way across the night sky. No words were spoken, and none were needed. They were lost in their own thoughts, but both silently rejoiced in the presence of the other. That night, they were each other’s lifelines, and nothing could separate them. The night passed quickly for the contemplative duo, and the sunrise seemed to dawn on a whole new world, where the tragedies of the past were distant memories. And as she watched the propitious sun claw its way into the sky, still nestled against the man she loved, Kagome smiled.

Miroku coughed, clutching his bruised stomach. The morning had begun normally enough, with him groping Sango as she bent over to fix breakfast. This time, however, instead of a slap he received a fist to the gut. To an innocent uneducated in the ways of the hentai, such a small difference might mean nothing. But to Miroku, it meant everything. A slap usually meant "How dare you?!" Many times it indicated that the woman was at least partially receptive to his advances, as what used to be the case with Sango. A blow to the abdomen, however, said "Do that again and I’ll fucking kill you!" It was to be understood as a sign that the woman held no interest in you. A slap was given in embarrassment, but a punch was delivered in disgust.

So why wasn’t Sango slapping him like she should be? Surely it didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in him anymore? No, she must just be extremely pissed at him. He could guess why. He had hoped to only spend a few minutes letting Chiyoko down easy, but had become engrossed in talking about her problems, and then the angry mob had shown up. So how was Sango to know that he hadn’t gone with Chiyoko to sleep with her?

"You know, Sango, it wasn’t my intention to bed Chiyoko-sama last night. I went with her to explain that I was already promised to someone." Sango eyed him critically, then looked away.

"It’s none of my business, Houshi-sama."

"Yes, it is," he replied seriously, grabbing her hands. "You promised to live with me and bear my children, so it is your business, Sango." The slayer finally met his eyes, and Miroku was shocked by the warring emotions he glimpsed within them. But then the moment was over, and Sango was staring into the fire, having offered only a brief nod in response to his words. He was baffled over her behavior, but quickly came up with a plausible explanation. Perhaps she is just worried about Kagome-sama…

Shippo groaned suddenly, startling both humans as they rushed over to where the kit lay. The fox’s eyes fluttered open, and he rolled over to shield them from the light, covering his head in the process. "Ugh…why does it feel like Inuyasha stomped on my head a few hundred times?" It was then that Miroku realized what he was going to have to tell little Shippo, and how unpleasant the task would be. He and Sango shared a look, but neither could muster up a response.

"Guys? What’s wrong?" Shippo asked, picking up on their discomfort.

"What do you remember from yesterday, Shippo?" Miroku asked grimly. The Kit frowned, examining his surroundings and realizing for the first time that he wasn’t where he had fallen asleep—or unconscious. Something had happened in the meantime, and judging by his friend’s expressions, it couldn’t have been good.

"I remember…I was playing with Tamiko—she’s this girl I met—and then…I don’t know. Something knocked me on the head, and I woke up here. What happened?"

Miroku sighed, rubbing his temples. "The person who knocked you out was Tamiko’s father. Last night, he and a bunch of villagers confronted us, threatening to kill you. When he went to smash you against the ground, Kagome-sama…Kagome-sama lost herself. She…she transformed into a full youkai and lopped his arm off."

Shippo gasped, raising shaking hands to cover his gaping mouth. No… What had he done? In protecting him, Kagome had… What have I done?! He dimly felt himself being pulled into Sango’s lap, Kirara nuzzling his chin, but no comfort could make him feel better now. But why were they comforting him? Why didn’t they blame him for this? They should, damn it!

"It’s my fault," he whispered, barely loud enough for the humans to hear. "Kagome told me not to wander off, and I didn’t listen. Just leave me here! Just leave me and go!"

"You know, Shippo," Sango spoke up, "Kagome-chan said the same thing last night. I’m going to tell you the same thing I told her. That’s crazy! You’re staying with us; you don’t have a choice!"

"B-but—"

"No buts! I’m not gonna lie to you, Shippo; this is party your fault." The kit’s lowered his head at this, tears flowing freely from his eyes. "It is partly Kagome-chan’s fault as well. But most of the blame rests with those bigoted pigs! When I lived in the exterminator’s village, even we distinguished between malevolent and benevolent youkai. But these people, they don’t see a difference at all! All they see is a dirty youkai to kill, no matter if it’s a child! I wish I could—"

"Now, now, Sango, let us remain calm," Miroku interrupted, placing his hand on her shoulder. Sango heaved a deep breath, reigning in her desire to beat some sense into these people. "Shippo, I assume you weren’t doing anything with Tamiko that would anger a reasonable father?"

"No! I swear! We picked some flowers for her sick mother, and then just played for awhile! I promise!"

"Alright, Shippo, we believe you. You can rest assured that you are mostly innocent in this, and we will not hold it against you." Shippo couldn’t believe his ears. His friends forgave him. They forgave him, even after all the trouble he had caused. But…would Kagome forgive him?

"Did he die?" he asked solemnly.

"We’re not sure, Shippo," Miroku answered. "I assume Inuyasha and Kagome left last night to find out." Now Shippo nodded, and joined Sango in staring into the dancing flames. Everyone seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, worried for Kagome and her mental health. Sometime later, the approach of a pair of familiar demonic auras signaled the return of their departed friends. Kagome didn’t make eye contact with anyone; instead, she rummaged through her bag for a change of clothes and went into the woods to change. All eyes turned to Inuyasha, asking him a single silent question. The hanyou’s grimace and sharp nod provided the answer. The man was dead.

Shippo wailed in despair, and Miroku would be lying if he said he didn’t feel slightly ill. How would Kagome react now that she knew? Inuyasha had gotten her to return to camp; that was something. But would she be able to deal with it? That question was answered when she emerged from the trees, and Shippo flung himself into her arms, apologizing profusely through his tears. Kagome cried as well, clutching him tightly and telling him it wasn’t his fault. Miroku found her tears oddly comforting; if she was crying, then she was still the Kagome they all knew and loved. She wasn’t going to turn into a shell of her former self, as so many victims of traumatic events did. She wasn’t going to become…like Kikyou.

Kneeling, Kagome dried her eyes and smiled down at the kit, which just made Shippo cry harder. She knew exactly what he was going through; guilt would not give way so easily to the solace of one’s friends. But eventually he stopped and sat up on Kagome’s lap, looking miserably happy, if that made any sense. Miroku cleared his throat. As much as they all wanted to just forget about this unfortunate incident, there were things that needed to be said.

"So…do we have any idea why Kagome-sama reacted the way she did?" When the only thing that greeted his question was a bunch of confused faces, Miroku continued. "I have a theory. Both times Kagome-sama transformed, she did so to protect someone she cared about. And both times, that person was helpless, unable to protect himself. That’s when I believe Kagome-sama’s youkai side emerges: when her friends are hurt, and incapable of defending themselves."

"Feh! I could have defended myself…" Inuyasha grumped petulantly, eliciting several rolled eyes from his companions. There were times when the hanyou really was the biggest baka alive. But evidently he had done something right, because Kagome was actually able to talk about this topic of conversation.

"I think you’re right, Miroku-sama," she said. "When it happens, I just get so…angry that someone is hurting my friends…"

"Yes, you are not motivated by bloodlust. Instead, you are guided by your heart, which is why I know that you will never turn on us in your full youkai state."

"But even so, don’t you think we need to do something?! Maybe I could get something to seal my youkai blood, like Tetsusaiga?"

"Feh," Inuyasha interjected. "What’s the point? If we just keep going and see this Aoi person, we can change you back in a few days. Going all the way to Totosai’s will take a lot longer, and the old fart will make us wait for days while he makes the stupid thing."

"Hmmm, Inuyasha makes a good point," Miroku declared. "We can’t be much more than a day’s journey from the mountain with the purple ring around it. Why don’t we just go see what Aoi-sama has to say?" A lecherous smirk wormed its way to his lips as a new thought occurred to him. "Besides, Inuyasha already discovered a perfect way to reverse Kagome’s youkai transformation." Both hanyou’s cheeks flamed at this comment, and Kagome raised her hand to her lips at the memory. Inuyasha just raised his fist.

"Bouzu…" he growled threateningly.

"Don’t be mad, Inuyasha! I was merely stating a fac—"

*BONK!!!*