Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor any characters affiliated with it. I retain ownership over Hirosuke Fujihara and the poem (of the same title as this story) in the first chapter.

Unveil
Something is wrong! She knows the instant she walks in. She sneezes; Fujihara-san's usually gentle scent is shrill and there is too much salt in it. She finds him lying on his futon.

"Fujihara-san!" She calls his name out, noting his surprise. It is the first time she has uttered it in their time together. He mumbles something but she cannot pick it up.

She rushes to get him some cold cloths, stopping partly to set the left-over broth to warm. He is shaking heavily by the time she reaches to wipe his brow. His lips move without making any sound and a pang goes through her at the thought of him calling to his first lover. Her hands brush his hair gently even as she begins to worry about the persistence of the fever. Again and again her heart slams against her ribs sensing his pain. Reaching to take his hand she prays for his strength, for his life.

Hours later he is still trembling but his fever is going down. With a jolt she realizes it is not stopping its descent. Furious searching for more blankets leaves her empty handed. His skin is clammy to the touch and she feels his temperature decreasing.

Panic begins to take her over once more – the nearest village is a full day's walk away or a few hours in her demon form, but she cannot leave him. Her heart trembles painfully: if she does not find a way to warm him up, he will...will…She cannot even think it. Her breath is suspended. When has the life of a mere mortal become precious to her? When has the heart of this mortal become precious to her? She remembers Midoriko, she remembers the feelings surrounding her, the warmth, the trust, the care, the love. Love? Yes, she can finally admit it to herself she has somehow fallen in love with this man before her, his easy acceptance of everything, his kindness, his tenderness.

Suddenly she knows what she has to do. She closes her eyes.

Please, work!

He feels warm. Something voluminous is piled on top of him. A slight turn reveals he is still encased in a sleeping Kiyoko's arms. He remembers the fever, the cold, then nothing. He makes to stand up and freezes. What trickery is this? The warm thing covering him is not a blanket, it looks like fur – more precisely, like a thick tail – and it seems to be attached to...to...

But, then...she is a demon? Demons kill people! She has probably biding for her time...His heart leaps painfully. All this time she has been deceiving him! Sleepy eyes turn on him.

"Good mor-..."

"Get away from me!" He untangles himself frantically.

She blinks.

"Get away!!!" He scampers towards the wall refusing to notice the pain washing over her face.

"Were you planning to eat me?"

"Eat...?" She would laugh at the question if it didn't hurt her so.

"Demon! Get out of my house!!!"

"But..."

"Get out!"

She nods silently then gets up and moves towards him, withholding a tear when he flinches.

"Don't come any nearer! I'll ... I'll..."

"Thank you." She smiles sadly then bows. "Thank you for your kindness, for giving me a place to stay, for taking care of me." Then she is off.

She doesn't know how long she runs but when she finally stops she has reached the river where they have first gone fishing those many moons before. Tears threaten her again, and she drops to her knees. Her reflection screams at her. This isn't Kirara! This is a pathetic mortal woman! She cannot stand it, lowering her head she allows herself to change. The pain from failing her mistress would at least motivate her to move on and find the Jewel. Sobs pierce her body and heavy droplets of sadness fall down her snout and into the water. For the second time in three centuries Kirara cries herself to sleep.