Using youki or reiki as protection from the elements had never crossed her mind, but Sesshoumaru could harness his power around them to keep them relatively dry from the falls. She elbowed him in the side as they touched down on the grass. "You could've mentioned that before."

"You have never asked about it before," he returned, flipping his still-damp hair over his shoulder.

"You know, one of these days, all this snark is going to come back to bite you in the—" She trailed off as she glanced at the water, breath stilling in her lungs. She saw Sesshoumaru move, fingers wrapping around the hilt of Bakusaiga, nose in the air as he searched the area.

When his probe found nothing, he looked at her in question, but Kagome's eyes were still on the rippling water. "What ails you, miko?" It wasn't until he placed a hand on her shoulder that she jumped, eyes wide as she blinked at him.

She swallowed, stepping out of his reach. "It's nothing."

Youki flared again, this time in her direction. "You will not escape This One's questions this time," he said. "You are hiding something."

Kagome bit her lip, wondering how much he knew about their search for the shards. "I saved her here."

"Who?"

"Kikyou."

His eyes only narrowed further. "This is the second time you have crossed paths with memories of the dead one." He stepped closer, her own feet mimicking the movements in the opposite direction. "Do you think she has risen again?"

She vehemently shook her head. "No. Kikyou is at peace." She absently rubbed her chest. "I'd know if she wasn't."

"You are not still connected to her." There was no inflection at the end of the sentence, but it came out like a question nonetheless.

"Not like that. Not like we were." She glanced over the water again. "Urasue thought we were related, but Kikyou's soul called out to mine because I had some to spare." It was only a theory, but it seemed more plausible the more she spoke about it out loud. "It's why I was able to fight her off. And why her soul-seekers never attempted to reconnect us."

She'd felt the pull each time she'd seen them, their beady eyes flicking in her direction, but the souls between their claws put up less of a fight, and shinidamachuu were not meant for confrontation. They were simply messengers.

"When my soul was fractured, it created a bond between us—one neither of us wanted," she continued. "I don't know how much there was on her end, but I could feel her rage. And her sorrow. All she wanted was rest, but the jewel and Naraku refused to give it to her." She knelt on the bank, trailing her fingers through the cool water.

"She chose her path."

"Kikyou is a descendant of Midoriko," she said, tone sad. "Her path was doomed from the start."

"Yet the jewel wished you to share the same fate," he noted.

Kagome nodded. "I was close enough in age and power when I fell through the well. Kikyou had meant the jewel to remain dormant, but the venom from Mistress Centipede, along with the magic from the well, woke it up. All it wanted was to find the person with the most power to continue its legacy."

Sesshoumaru rested his palm against Tenseiga. "It saw you as a threat to its completion."

She nodded again, rubbing her arms. The decision to save Kikyou had been a conscious one, though she doubted the older miko ever understood it. Kikyou had let her hate and need for revenge taint her soul for too long, so simple acts of kindness were a mystery to her.

It was why she could never understand the pain of Inuyasha's floundering heart. He was simply a means to an end, and the proof of her humanity dwindled with every choice she made. Every act against them—every shard she stole, every arrow cast in their direction—just intensified the poison in her heart. Kagome had hoped her act of purifying her within the falls would help, but in the end, she couldn't fight destiny.

"It became angry when you purified Kohaku's shard," he said.

A smile touched her lips. There were few that Sesshoumaru placed his trust in, and although Kohaku had spent time with Totosai, he always had a place in the Western Keep. "It realized that even if it could capture me, I was too strong for it. Midoriko was locked in battle for years before she finally sent her heart away. She was evenly matched against the youkai she fought."

He gave her a considering look, then turned away from the falls. "Your circumstances would be different." Another non-question. She followed him as best she could, wondering why they weren't flying. She checked her hair, noticing it was still damp. Maybe he was giving her time to dry out so there were fewer questions when they got back to camp.

"I'd like to hope so." She'd felt different after her powers had been unlocked, but Kikyou— and Naraku's constant meddling—had fractured her self-confidence, so it was more based on her want to shut the vile hanyou up than anything else.

"Hope is for those too weak to create their own destiny," he replied.

"I disagree." Her response was so emphatic that he turned around, brow raised in question. "Hope is what keeps us going, Sesshoumaru. It's not some pretty thing that makes us wish on stars. It's tough and gritty, making us crawl through the dirt on broken limbs because of what might be on the other side." She gazed up at the sky, hands clasped behind her back.

She knew the type of hope he was talking about, but that was meant for children and fairy tales. To keep their eyes open and hearts pure so their dreams weren't dashed before they had the strength to chase them.

"Hope is what kept me coming back to the well every day. It's what kept me jumping through time even though the possibility of me dying without anyone remembering my name grew higher and higher each day." She paused, then gave him a knowing look. "Hope is what sent you to your mother's castle in search of answers—and then beg for a cure when Rin's soul was lost to the underworld."

He bristled, as she knew he would, his eyes narrowing. "This One does not beg."

She smirked. "Not yet, anyway." She flipped her hair over her shoulder, carrying on toward camp without him, hips swaying. She was curious if everything they'd talked about with consent had actually sunk in, half expecting him to grab her from behind, but she remained untouched, and she chuckled to herself as she broke the treeline. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

The little minx.

She'd known exactly what she'd done with a comment like that, but they'd been too close to camp for him to do anything about it. He'd been tempted, oh how he'd been tempted, but her demand for respect had rung true, and all he could think about it would give her reason to deny him next time.

Sharp claws dug into his palm as he lay against a tree on the outskirts of their camp. He was getting tired of constantly thinking about next time. They'd found a clue about Rin's whereabouts and may locate her the next day. That was what he needed to focus on.

The miko had spilled enough about her dealings with the dead one to satisfy his curiosity for now, though it wouldn't last long. He'd scented no deceit from her when speaking of the falls and the cave, but there was still something missing. A puzzle piece that had yet to be identified, and she seemed to be in no rush to share it.

He had to admit he'd never experienced something as harrowing as his soul being ripped from his body. The closest he'd come to death was after losing his arm to Inuyasha, and his fight against Magatsuhi, but they were both physical wounds. The miko had suffered something much worse, so he couldn't fault her for being bothered by the memories of it.

However, he also knew enough about her that she didn't perseverate on hardships. She pushed through them, determination and compassion lending strength to her next move to keep her sufficiently clearheaded to defeat her foe. It didn't stop her temper from flaring when she felt an injustice had been served, her cries of outrage ringing in his ears.

It hadn't happened for a while, as the maturity gained with age seemed to have done well with her, but he still saw it now and then, eyes flashing with the venom of a youkai. He snorted. If any part of her were demon, Naraku would've perished much sooner. Only her mortality had his brother hesitating when jumping into the fray.

Sesshoumaru wished he could fault him for it, but it had been the same with Rin, and later Kohaku. The little humans had slid through his defences without his knowledge or consent, and there had been times when he'd worried for their safety. And rightly so, according to the miko. He hadn't been able to voice it at the time, but there was little he wouldn't have done to bring Rin back from the brink of death—especially since it was his own fault.

And now, here she was again, in peril without anyone to help her.

His hand flexed, ignoring the rustles as his brother's pack readied themselves for the day ahead. The slayers had been up since dawn, running through their training regimen, and each soft sigh from the miko's sleeping bag had his brother twitching with anxiety.

She'd been awake for several minutes but feigned sleep to keep him on edge. Sesshoumaru would've smirked if he hadn't been on edge himself.

He was still not convinced that she had been truthful with his brother the night before. How could she let them off so easily when they'd betrayed her so? Hadn't she returned for him? Sesshoumaru rolled his shoulders, running the evening's events through his mind again.

She had appeared less bothered once Inuyasha had slunk back to camp, but words were deceiving, especially with humans, and the miko had been part of this story time and time again. It seemed an endless cycle, one she couldn't escape from, and a daunting thought occurred.

Had she encouraged him to be rough to distract herself from what was happening between his brother and the slayer?

Sesshoumaru growled in the back of his throat. He would not be used in such a way. It was bad enough that his father had used his birthright to strengthen Tessaiga—he refused to be a part of a petty love triangle, especially between humans.

He had half a mind to out her on it right now. Her anger about the falls had been genuine, but her scent had shifted between arousal and frustration the entire time they'd been in the cave. The sight of her in his pelt had enticed him, but that was instincts talking, not personal preference. She was a convenient source of tension relief, nothing more—and he would gut her if she was using him as a replacement for his brother.

He fixated her with an intense stare, tempted to rouse her so they could get on with the day, but she beat him to it, stretching her arms above her head before sitting up. She wiped her face, locating each pack member, then frowned. "You should've woken me sooner if you were already up."

Inuyasha hopped from his tree branch, landing at her feet. "You seemed to need it."

She met Sesshoumaru's gaze, a smirk gracing her lips before she rose from her sleeping bag. "I was a little worn out but nothing too strenuous." He kept his face impassive, but the muscles along his jaw clenched, and her smirk widened as she grabbed her travelling clothes. "Give me a minute, and then we can eat."

Inuyasha looked between her and the slayer, shoulders hunched with unease. Ah-Un had followed the miko into the brush, and Kohaku tended what was left of the fire, bringing out a small flame so they could use it for their morning meal. After a few moments, Inuyasha beckoned to the slayer, motioning for her to follow him.

They didn't bother saying where they were going, and the miko had gone far enough away that their conversation wouldn't be overheard—by humans. She'd finished dressing and was waiting for their confrontation, and apologies fell from the slayer's mouth, garbled by tears.

Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes. They should've been punished for how they'd snuck around behind her back, but he knew the miko better than that. She would forgive them as she always did, even if seeing them together brought her pain. Sighing, he leaned back against the tree trunk.

The slayer was the more emotional of the two, denying any accusations that they'd wanted to hurt her. He scoffed. It was too late for that. The basis of their relationship, if it had progressed that far, was cloaked in lies and redirection. He'd never understood the need to lie. Either you were honourable, or you weren't—and those who relied on the gullibility of others should be eviscerated by their own sword.

It was unlikely that the miko would claim such a right, even though they'd been carrying on behind her back. They were her friends. Didn't that count for something? He had never seen the point in having platonic companions; they served no purpose. He didn't require their protection and wasn't about to confide in them.

His eyes widen suddenly as the memory from the night before resurfaced. The miko had confided in him about the connection between her and the dead one. Did she consider them friends? He shook his head. No, that would be pushing it, even for her. Granted, it wouldn't have been the first time her compassion overrode her common sense, but he had nothing to offer her except relief. And she had nothing to offer him in return.

"I expected more out of you, Sango-chan," she scolded, her words carried along the wind. There was a bite in her tone that hadn't been there last night, and Sesshoumaru craned his neck to take in the rest of the conversation. Did she hold the slayer more accountable than his brother?

"I swear we didn't want to hurt you, Kagome-chan," the woman replied. "That was the last thing either of us wanted."

"Yet you still carried on around my back instead of just telling me," she said. "Would that have been so hard?"

"Yes," they both chorused. Sesshoumaru rolled his eyes again. Demon slayers were founded on honour, training their bodies and minds to take in little details so the innocent would not be harmed. Did they care so little about their friendship with the miko that hiding was their only option?

She let out an exasperated sigh. "You're both being ridiculous. We all know Inuyasha and I haven't been a thing since I came back. I'm happy you've both found someone!" He tilted his head again, trying to sense if she was lying, but they were too far away for him to scent her, and any use of his youki would only reveal he'd been listening in the first place.

"You ain't mad?" Inuyasha hedged.

Another groan. "Of course I am! About the lying. Not about you two being together." He could tell she was smiling now. "I hope you know what you're getting into, Sango-chan. He's a handful."

"Oi!"

"Tell me I'm wrong!" There was mad scuffling, and then the two women were laughing, his brother muttering profanities under his breath. "I'm serious, though. Just don't lie. Everything else comes second." Her tone warmed. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy." The slayer sniffled, her next words muffled, and Sesshoumaru tapped his fingers against his knee.

The miko needed to work on creating a better shield for herself. She would likely continue getting hurt if she didn't hold people accountable for their actions.