Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

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American Starwort

Welcome to a Stranger

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"That'll be thirty mon," the woman supplied. Gnarled fingers curled, awaiting copper coins. In the other, a small sack of rice held hostage.

Kagome balked. "T-thirty mon!? That's too much!"

The elder sniffed, setting the bag further out of reach. "If you don't like it, go someplace else."

"No, no! Please, it's fine," she surrendered. Hunger was too real a threat. Relinquishing the coins in the woman's hand, Kagome quietly took the bag with no further complaint. She sketched a bow. "Thank you very much."

Slipping into the crowd, Kagome pulled her hat further over her face. She hadn't expected life outside the shrine to be so difficult. She knew about the constant wars between the many daimyo. And she was aware of the hardships most peasants faced daily, but she had lived in relative comfort at the shrine. The worry for money - and its constant fluctuation between provinces and villages - was something she had been far removed from. During her training, she'd rarely had the opportunity to leave the shrine and venture into the village. Now, though…

She wished she had been more prepared.

"I got conned," Kagome grumbled, following the main road to the outskirts of the village. There was an abandoned Buddhist temple she'd stumbled upon during the night. It wasn't much, but it passed for a sufficient bolthole.

Ever since her escape, it was a struggle. A struggle to stay ahead of Ryukotsusei's men - to not attract undue attention. However, a miko's garb was too iconic. She could hardly travel through a village without someone recognizing her attire.

Turning to a winding stair that curved up the hillside, she adjusted her bow. "I really should get some new clothes," Kagome muttered. But with what money? She had to be sparing with what little she had. The shrine had little in the way of coinage, what with Lord Ryukotsusei draining its coffers to fund his war. And what it did have was probably lost to the fire or stolen by his men. Not like I was able to grab much as I was leaving.

"It's gone. I can't believe it," she whispered, mounting the last of the stairs. Her home for the last ten years was swallowed up by flames. The burden around her neck seemed to weigh heavier than before. Keeping it tucked out of sight was the least she could do.

Rounding the side of the side of the temple and up the short, rotting steps, Kagome entered the building. Nestled against the hillside, the temple was nothing more than a dilapidated collection of timbers and paneling. The rounded pillars within barely maintained its structure, and the sliding door on the opposite side had fallen off. Whoever was responsible for its upkeep was long gone. Abandoned to time, nature was slowly attempting to reclaim it. Still, it would suffice.

Kagome set aside her bow, dropping the small satchel as she fished in the floorboards. She'd found an old stoneware pot and wooden lid left by the previous tenants while she was snooping last night. It would be just fine for the rice.

"Here we go!" Kagome grunted, hefting the pot from its nook. She set it down with a thud, stirring up dust.

"Quiet."

She squeaked, spinning.

At the remnants of the altar, a stranger lounged. One leg outstretched, the other bent at the knee, his woven hat completely shrouded his face. Dressed in a short-sleeved black kimono and gray hakama, his jinbaori was worn and threadbare. Straw sandals wrapped around black tabi. But it was the pair of katana that captured her attention. Crowned with a red hilt, a dark blade was strapped to his waist, while a second with scrolling patterns was propped against his shoulder.

A ronin! Heart hammering in her chest, Kagome gulped. "W-Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Moments of silence ticked by. Impatiently, she stomped her foot. "I asked you a question."

"So noisy," the man replied, grumbling. Easing forward, one hand gripping the intricate blade and the other removing his hat, he sniffed. "You're in no danger from me."

"You didn't answer my question."

Slowly, he faced her. Golden eyes sharpened in her direction. "So," he began, posture shifting from relaxed to predatory. "You seek to make demands of me, miko?" He hissed, her title punctuated by an abrupt stamp of his katana against the floorboards. From his high ponytail, dark hair spilled over his shoulders.

Shrinking, Kagome shook her head. "I was just… surprised is all."

Grunting, he returned to lounging against the altar. "Then, be quiet."

"... You can't stay here."

"Be calm, miko. There's room enough for two."

He's not going to leave. Grumbling under her breath, she hoisted the pot once more and stepped outside. The rice would take time to boil, and she had better things to do than argue with a stranger. Not that she wanted to test her luck; even sheathed, she bet those blades was sharper than most of her arrows. Kagome avoided the ronin as best as possible, briefly reentering the temple for a pair of wooden bowls.

To pass the time, blue eyes watched the heating pot in a daze. Drifting in an out of awareness and wanting to put the last two nights out of her mind, Kagome settled for observing steam rise from the slits in the lid. A pair of fish smoked on skewers beside the small fire.

"A watched pot doesn't boil."

The ronin had relocated from the crumbling altar to just within the doorway, one sword still leaning against his shoulder. His hat removed, his features were much clearer in the daylight. The thick muscles of his biceps flexed as he took a seat on the floor. Kagome threw him a criticizing look, and she chalked up his advance to the lure of food. Is he planning to kill me if I don't feed him? She was too cautious to inquire. Not with those gold eyes staring holes between her shoulders.

Instead, she huffed. "I know." Prodding the fire, she stole covert glances. "How'd you find this place?"

He used the entryway as a backrest. "You can see it from the road below."

Kagome frowned. Standing up to see, it was just as he said. The view from the hilltop was wide, stretching across the low farmland and towards the forest in the distance. Maybe I should have picked a different spot.

"Smells good."

Taking the chance to actually look at the man, Kagome observed his dress with more scrutiny. He didn't wear Ryukotsusei's colors, and the shoulder seams of his jinbaori were frayed beyond repair. Dirt and road dust smudged his cheeks.

She scowled, hands on her hips and chin raised. "Oh? Trying to horn in on my meal, ronin?"

His lips quirked. "Only what the good miko is willing to share."

She should have known, and pink darkened her cheeks. It was on the tip of her tongue to deny him. It would go against her teachings, but a bit of her couldn't help but want to be petty. Turning away, Kagome gave the pair of fish another turn. "Fortunately for you, the miko is kind." Lips pursed in exasperation. "It isn't much… but I'd be willing to share."

They lapsed into silence with only the rattle of the pot and the crackle of the fire breaking the quiet. At her back, she heard the stranger move about.

"So," he started. "What takes you away from your shrine?"

Kagome's lips pinched, fingers hooking into red silk. "Lord Ryukotsusei ordered it destroyed." She peeked under the lid. Nearly done.

He shifted, leaning forward slightly. "Oshio Hachiman."

"You know?"

"Hn." The ronin flicked dark hair over his shoulders. "Some of the villagers were discussing it. The fire was seen for miles. It's not the first to be sundered by his men."

Hands clenched in her mud-stained hakama. Stomach twisting in knots, Kagome wasn't prepared to discuss the recent events. Let alone with a strange man. "The food's done," she supplied, changing the subject. She plucked one of the skewered fish and spooned a portion of the rice into a wooden bowl. Reluctantly, she approached. "Here."

There was a moment of hesitation. Either in her unwillingness to come any closer, or his caution to close the distance, Kagome eventually placed the meal within arms reach.

Calloused fingers brushed. Roughed by battle, larger hands lifted the bowl from her grasp. "Many thanks."

"O-of course." Finding her spot by the fire, Kagome scooped the remainder into her own bowl and ate quietly.

Waxing into relative silence, the miko wondered at her next course of actions. She was on a time limit, and the road to Mt. Tsukuba was long. At least, it seemed so. She wasn't very familiar with the provinces beyond Echizen - or who controlled them. From what little knowledge she had gained, Kagome knew that Ryukotsusei now controlled the Echizen, Mino, Hida, and Kai provinces. But how far does his influence really spread? I'm traveling blindly by myself. Suddenly, she wasn't very hungry. I'm really… alone.

At her back, the stranger shifted once more.

She heard them first. A horse's whinny and stampeding hoofbeats alerted her to their approach. Bolting upright, Kagome darted into the temple, nearly tripping over the stranger in her haste. She reached for her things - satchel, bow, and quiver - and turned to find a samurai blocking her escape. The far wall shattered and a rock cracked against her forearm, a yelp squeezing between gritted teeth as she tumbled.

"There's no use fleeing, woman!" shouted another. Rounding the temple, the rider paused to spare a look at the ronin. "We are in service of Lord Ryukotsusei. Stand aside."

A foot slid to block the entrance.

"Don't interfere!" the rider barked.

Gold eyes briefly glanced into the temple. "She's just a woman."

"Move!"

He did not.

Blades drawn, the rider charged. Steel scraped against wood, and the ronin ducked aside. Tumbling down the short steps, he spun, slicing upward along the rider's thigh. His grip shifted and the blade sheared left. The rider dropped with a sickening thud.

"No!"

The ronin turned in time as the woman thrust upward, a single arrow piercing the throat of the second warrior. The man coughed, spitting blood and digging coarse hands into her haori. Red dribbled down her arm, and the warrior dropped face-first on the dusty floor.

"Miko," the ronin called, a firm hand steadying her shoulder.

Kagome shuddered, the arrow clattering from her grip. Her ears were ringing. Something warm slicked between her fingers. Blood. She was accustomed to blood. Eyes falling to the body in front of her, bile burned in the back of her throat. This was different. She'd never killed anyone before.

"Oh? Looks like you're more trouble than you're worth, miko…"

The ronin set the woman to his back as a third rider stepped into sight.

Wearing the same colors at the other two, his shoulders bore a pair of slatted pauldrons dipped in yellow. Sharpened daggers glinted under the shifting folds of his cloak. The warrior grinned. "No one mentioned the miko having a guard." In a flourish, a pair of daggers spun in his grip. "No matter. You will be easily dealt with."

Blades flew.

"Go!" the ronin barked, shoving her towards the temple door. She yelped, and they barely evaded as the daggers lodged into the nearby paneling. Another set whisked from within the warrior's cloak.

Dodging one, the second sliced against the ronin's side.

"Surrender the girl," the warrior warned. Drawing a heavy corded whip from his belt, the weighted end cracked against the floor. "And Goshinki may let you live."

The ronin stilled, blade low.

"Have it your way!" The warrior snarled. Arms flung, the whip snapped. Up, down, sideways. The whip crashed and rattled through the temple. Kagome shrieked. Rotted wood shattered underfoot, and the ronin dashed left. Smashing against the floor, the whip cut off any escape. Looping around the ronin's ankle, it pulled taut.

He crouched, barely dodging another set of daggers.

Goshinki heaved, hurling the ronin around the room until his back slammed against a pillar with a grunt. Trading whip for dual-wielding knives, Goshinki rushed in. In close quarters, they ducked and dove. A lunge towards the face. A parry with a blade.

The ronin fought for space. With his back to the pillar, he kept on the defensive. An opening! A downward slash tore through cloth. Curving upward, his katana cleaved through bone as Goshinki's right forearm flung across the room.

Goshinki leapt back, undeterred. Cackling. Another blade flew, pinning the ronin to the pillar by his coat. Drawing a second, he lunged.

He had to think quick. Swiftly looping the discarded whip around his blade, the ronin vaulted overhead and pulled. Tangling around his neck, Goshinki choked. And with a forward jab, the ronin's katana slid through the hollow of Goshinki's throat as the pair collided.

Dust clouded the air. Goshinki gurgled and coughed, blood and spittle spilling from the corner of his mouth. Red stained teeth contorted into a grin. "I thought" - he sputtered - "that blade looked familiar."

The ronin glared. He withdrew his blade with a twist, and Goshinki's body slumped to the ground.

From the corner, Kagome peeked up. "R-Ronin-san?"

The temple was a wreck. Strewn with bodies, she looked on as the swordsman wiped his blade clean. Tentatively, she made her way across the room.

He sheathed the katana, stowing it beside the other, and quietly looked over the miko. Despite the pulsing in his ears, he weathered her praise. Yet, her voice sounded distant - muffled, as if underwater. The ringing grew louder. A soft touch to his side startled him, and he snatched the woman's hand away abruptly.

Her fingers were speckled with blood.


End Note: Firstly, I'd like to thank Kaity for beta'ing these early chapters.

I'm playing fast and loose when it comes to money in this story. Currency during the Sengoku Era was constantly in flux, where even the daimyo started minting their own coins to compete with Chinese Ming coins. And with most payment methods calculated by how much rice a farmer needed for a year, it made it difficult to pin down exchange rates. So, I opted to play a little bit with the times. I'm sticking with mon, shu, bu, and rio coinage because they were a lot simpler and unified during their use (very late 1500s - 1600s and the Edo period).