Kagome was thankful for the busy period that followed at the shrine. Christmas wasn't celebrated particularly at her childhood home, but New Years was their busiest holiday. Her mother would busy herself with the traditional dishes to be eaten in this period, with Souta pitching in to make mochi from scratch. Her grandfather would mind everything around the shrine, and each year would pressure her into the traditional miko-garb. This was the first year that she adamantly refused and he'd accepted it right away. She suspected her mother had something to do with that, but decided not to linger on it.

Instead, she helped with all the usual chores, sweeping the stairs and grounds, minding the giftshop, preparing the amazake to be doled out on New Year's Eve, and polishing the shrine bell until it shone. Because these were all largely solitary activities, she often found her mind wandering. She mourned Shippou, but found solace in knowing that she had been able to end his suffering. She mourned the loss of her last link to the past in having lost Sesshoumaru, but she was certain that he would never contact her again. She wasn't sure if that was what she wanted, though she was still mad enough with him to convince herself it was.

So when she found herself on the top of the stairs one late afternoon, handing out mandarins to the few shrine visitors that had decided to brave the falling snow, she was surprised at the jump her heart made when she became aware of a nearing source of youki. Seeing him round the corner and sauntering over, apparently without a care in the world, was enough to kindle her anger anew, however.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up at her. She sent a wave of reiki his way, warning him to turn back. He took no heed whatsoever and started his ascent. Every few steps he took, she would send another wave, increasing in strength each time, but he would simply trudge on, seemingly unbothered by her futile attempts to repel him. Finally, she imbued the mandarin she had palmed with all the energy she could muster and chucked it at his head. He caught it single handedly, and save for a soft hiss upon its impact, gave no notion of any discomfort. He handed the steaming fruit back to her as he reached the top of the stairs.

'What are you doing here?' she ground out through clenched jaws.

'I have come to talk,' he simply stated.

'I have nothing to say to you,' she retorted, planting her hands on her hips and standing her ground.

'Then you will listen.'

Before he could continue, Kagome noticed a pair of worshippers from the shrine passing by. They stared at the tall, distinctly coloured man in front of her with wide eyes, whispering to each other when they deemed themselves out of earshot.

'Fine,' she grumbled, 'come with me.' She stomped off into the wooded area to the back of the property, away from the prying eyes of the public and, more importantly, her family.

She reached the small clearing by the Goshinboku and whirled around to face him. Her emotional state made her reiki rise again, making her hair dance around her as she turned. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, the picture of righteous indignation as she waited for him to explain himself.

He regarded her calmly, hands in the pockets of his dark, wool coat. Her other eyebrow rose with her ire, and she was just about to start screaming at him, when he started.

'I do not apologize for my actions. The course I took has been the product of many years of deliberation and I stand by it.'

Kagome could not believe her ears. Had he sought her out especially to tell her there was nothing wrong with what he had done? To clear his conscience? As her frustration with him came to a head, her spiritual powers started to leak out. Static danced and the falling snowflakes came to a halt around her.

'Your pain in this endeavor was inevitable and I sought to shorten it. You will not do yourself the disservice now to sequester it away and lengthen it in the process.'

Her eye twitched. Was he seriously berating her for long mourning periods? Him, the demon that had lived for some 400 years in solitude and still mourned the little girl he had known for all of a heartbeat? Her conscience piped up from the recesses of her frustration incensed mind to berate her that she was not being fair, but she chose not to hear herself.

Images of Shippou started flashing before her eyes, pictures from the past and of his final moments alternating in quick succession. She closed her eyes and put her hands to her head. The man in front of her had caused her this pain, had made her kill him, had made her make up for his ineptitude, should have told her, should have brought her to her little kit sooner, should ha-

'Kagome.'

Her wild eyes shot up to his.

'Feel your pain.'

She exploded.