Chapter Text
This is the story of what happened to Kikyo Hidaka:
She disappeared on June 1st, 1992, after a confrontation with an unknown male suspect.
“Let her go,” Kikyo pleaded, tone shaking. Her hands were outstretched, reaching for the only thing that mattered. “She has nothing to do with this. Let her go!”
Twelve year old Kaede Hidaka, Kikyo’s younger sister, was the only eyewitness. Even then, her account was fuzzy.
“She’s part of the reason you don’t see me anymore,” the man yelled, wild. His voice rasped with it, with desperation. The hands that held Kaede by the neck clenched at random, little spasms that jerked her small frame. “You’ve let her come between us!”
“No,” Kikyo argued. “No, she’s not. She never would. Please just let her go. I’ll come back. I’ll stay. Just let her go.”
“You’re LYING!”
The very air seemed to swirl, electricity swelling. Kaede could feel the magic, even though she was still too young to wield it well.
Kikyo Hidaka, a recent graduate of the Academy, was known for her cool, no-nonsense attitude. A bit of a loner, some said, but kind. She’d been quiet in all of her classes, yet unstoppably smart. Her old professors stated that Kikyo had been, without a doubt, the greatest witch of their generation. A prodigy of magical intelligence, manipulating energy with little-to-no difficulty, it seemed as if the magic called to her.
Like she was made for magic, in the same way that magic was made for witches.
“I don’t believe you,” the man went on, and it sounded like a sob, like he was in pain. “You left me, just like they all did.”
“Please,” Kikyo whispered, and in that moment, her dark brown eyes fell to the terrified grey gaze of her sister. Kaede trembled, pain lancing up her throat from the man’s hand, stabbing at her side from the man’s knife. “She’s all I have left.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
Kaede Hidaka sustained significant injuries, despite the evidenced magical healing given to her some time shortly after the attack. Her testimony is of the belief that her sister, Kikyo, had attempted to heal her before being attacked once more by the male suspect.
Hands, gentle, moved her onto her side. Kaede could feel the blood, the heat and the chill. Her sister murmured words at her, a desperate chant, and Kaede’s body softened. It became easier to breathe with the pain fading, a numbing sensation overtaking her. She was in her body, but not. Kaede could only open one eye, the light from the streetlamp blinding. All she could see was the shroud of her sister in a halo, a guardian angel. And then, the darkness returned.
Kikyo screamed, hands no longer on Kaede’s face.
The scream changed, a sort of battle cry that took on the shape of words. The man was yelling, snapping, and the air around them thrummed. It had a pulse, heavy like a drumbeat. Kaede couldn’t feel much, but she could feel the way every hair on her body stood at attention, electricity teasingly close. It smelled of ozone, tasted copperier than the blood in her mouth.
Kaede Hidaka was found alone in an alleyway off of Shrine Street, in the historical district of Sakura, at 11:11 PM. Despite her testimony and timeline of events, no evidence of Kikyo Hidaka or the male suspect could be found. Despite her words, not a single trace of magic was felt at the scene.
“Ki…Kik-yo,” Kaede choked out, as the electricity in the alleyway grew, as it shuddered around her like a living thing. She was in the eye of a storm, an unwilling participant to its destruction.
Goodbye, the storm whispered. Or maybe it was said. Kaede thought it was Kikyo – that it sounded like Kikyo, very far away.
Goodbye.
Kikyo Hidaka was never found, and later presumed dead. For years, people across the continent demanded justice from The Guild of Witches, which was unable to find her killer despite its endless resources.
But, like all things, the cry for justice waned. There were no new leads, no clues. Kikyo’s sister was the only one to continue the search, despite the passing of time.
Well—
With one exception, that is.
The knocking on the door refuses to stop.
“No,” Kagome grumbles, face smashed into her pillow. She can barely breathe, all hot and damp air around her. It’s gross, but it’s nothing compared to how her entire body feels. With a jerk of her head, Kagome blearily opens her eyes – well, one eye, since the other is highly uncooperative at present – and yes. Yep. Absolutely. She passed out on the floor again. In her kitchen.
This is why Kagome thought leaving a pillow in here was smart. The vindication bubbles through her, pleased, until her neck spasms in pain and she flops back down onto her pillow.
There’s knocking, again.
Kagome groans. “Not today,” she murmurs, over and over. “I can’t deal with people today.” There’s no one around to correct this statement: Kagome typically can’t deal with people on any day. Or, at least, that’s what it has felt like the past…while.
Four years, two months, eight days.
Not that she’s counting, or anything.
The knocking continues. It’s really very persistent. Kagome wants to die.
Letting out a sound that’s more wailing cat than human, she tugs her stiff joints upwards. One foot, and then the other, and finally she’s standing, leaning against the kitchen counter. It’s littered with things – various bowls, mortars and pestles, open jars and half-chopped herbs now long dried out. On the stove, her extra large pot sits, lid properly in place.
Good, so it didn’t explode then.
Ignoring the knocking – which, at this point, is incredibly rude in its persistence – Kagome peeks inside and determines that the aqua blue colour is the correct shade, and that the potion is well on its way to completion. Good. At least her sleeping in the kitchen to ensure the whole thing didn’t blow up wasn’t for nothing.
The knocking stops.
Kagome blinks, confused. For some reason, she’s immediately dropping the lid onto the pot and staggering through the hallway to the front door. This part of the house, at least, looks presentable. Kagome barely leaves the house unless it’s for work, so it makes a certain kind of sense. She grabs the doorknob, pats at her chest to make sure her necklace is hidden underneath her oversized t-shirt, and then opens the door.
Oh.
“Took you long enough,” the man standing on her front porch grumbles, hands crossed over his chest. He’s the picture of impatient irritation, foot tapping and all. Kagome just stares, trying to understand. To be fair, none of this is her fault. She just woke up, okay? She doesn’t even know what time it is. The afternoon, most likely, given how bright and hot everything is. The humidity is cloying, and not in a sexy way.
It takes an embarrassingly long time to realize that the very impatient man in front of her is sexy, however. Like, very, very attractive. It’s blinding and off-putting, and Kagome would slam the door in the man’s face if she had been awake for longer than five minutes.
“Hello? Are you even paying attention?” the guy snaps, with the audacity to wave a hand in her face.
Which: rude. Kagome is not impressed. “Who are you?”
The man before her looks even more irritated. And yet, he’s so attractive. His hair is white, long and flowing over his shoulders like a model off of GQ. His eyes are golden and piercing, and they are doing things to her libido which Kagome thought was so long dead and buried, a private funeral had been held in 2014.
“I’m Inuyasha,” he introduces, sticking out his hand to shake. He doesn’t look pleased to do so. “You’re Kagome Higurashi.”
First name, no last name. Even without the ethereal features, this would be a dead giveaway. “You’re a familiar.”
“And you’re a witch,” Inuyasha drawls, rolling his eyes. For a long moment, the two of them stare at each other. Kagome makes no move to shake his hand, and he scowls, folding it away across his chest. “Are we going to win some sort of prize for stating the obvious?”
Rude. So rude. Kagome hates how she wants to both punch and kiss his face. She tries to stare at a point just above his shoulder, because looking at him is too much to handle at the moment. Literally: she’s been awake for seven minutes now. Life is a cruel, cruel mistress. “Why are you here?”
Inuyasha grimaces. His foot starts tapping again, and Kagome notes that he’s wearing dark Chelsea boots with tight jeans – and they are tight everywhere. “You really weren’t listening to me,” he says, aggravated. “I told you. I’ve been sent by The Guild.”
“The Guild.”
He shoots her an unimpressed glare, which is understandable. Everyone knows about The Guild of Witches. Kagome’s not in top form, but she can slowly piece two and two together. The Guild of Witches is the governing body for all practicing witches on the continent. They are judge and jury, enforcement and legislation, scholarship and practicum. In this instance, what she’s gathering is this: The Guild has sent her yet another familiar for her to attempt to bond with, because they think she is dangerous and/or evil, and they wish to have a spy.
Oh, for the love of Saberhagen—
Kagome sighs, feeling a headache coming on. “This isn’t a great time.”
Inuyasha rolls his eyes. “Seems pretty fucking fine to me. You clearly just woke up. How bad can it be?”
Four years, two months and eight days bad, but whatever. It occurs to her, in that moment, that this entire time she’s been having this conversation at her front door. The neighbours will start to get nosy soon, and also, it’s plain rude. Her mother raised her to be better than this, even if Inuyasha started it.
“Did you want to come in for a minute? I can make some tea.”
This random question startles him. He glares at her for a moment before shrugging, arms falling from their crossed position. “As long as it’s strong.”
Kagome wrinkles her nose, but steps back to let him in. “Sure. Ignore the mess, please. I wasn’t expecting guests.”
“Mess?” Inuyasha follows her inside, confusion clear in his voice as he takes in the near-empty hallway. “I don’t see any— Oh.”
Kagome surveys the chaotic disaster zone that is her kitchen: the overflowing countertops, the hanging pots and kitchen utensils that dangle from the ceiling, the splashes of purple, green and blue potion stains on the walls, and the stuffed teddy bear that sits on the tiny windowsill above the sink. It’s the picture of madness. It’s enough to make any sane person want to leave immediately.
She’s a little disappointed when Inuyasha steps inside, despite the fact that he’s frowning so hard, he could pull a muscle. “So The Guild sent you.”
“What?” Inuyasha’s golden eyes finally drag themselves away from the biohazard currently living on Kagome’s kitchen table. His gaze is like liquid fire, fascinating and warm in equal measure.
She will not fall for it. Just because the man before her probably looks great without a shirt on does not mean that she wants anything to do with him. Because for starters: familiars are trouble. A Guild-sent one? Far, far worse, and far more dangerous. “I’m trying to get a better sense as to why you’re here.”
“The Guild sent me.”
Oh, sweet bubbling cauldrons. Kagome rolls her eyes. “Yes. That much is obvious.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because I want to know why you’re here.”
“The Gu—”
In a flash, Kagome snaps her fingers at an open jar of old, shed snakeskins. They immediately start to twist within their glass confinement, hissing.
Inuyasha startles, but it lasts only the blink of an eye. After that, he’s glaring at Kagome, canines poking out between his lips. “Really?”
“If you say ‘The Guild sent me’ one more time, I will have you blasted from this house,” Kagome warns. She opens the cupboard closest to her, pulling out various jars and tins until she finds her tea stash.
“Is that…living death root?” Inuyasha asks. He sounds more angry than horrified.
Kagome pauses, scanning the group of miscellaneous jars she’s put down. It takes her a second, but it’s easy to spot the extremely poisonous, mostly lethal plant that’s been magicked to remain alive within its little glass prison. “Hm, not sure.”
The familiar stares at her, disbelieving. “That’s illegal.”
“Only if it is death root, but neither you nor I can be sure.” Kagome brandishes two different types of tea bags at him. “Earl grey or cinnamon orange?”
He growls, then, and oh. Wow. Okay. Kagome apparently has been alone for far too long. Even her ovaries shivered at that. This should not be sexy. It shouldn’t.
“Why do you have it?”
“Have what?”
“Death root.”
“I don’t know that it is.”
“Bullshit.”
“Well, you can open it and find out,” Kagome suggests sweetly, assuming that he wants Earl Grey and spinning around to find the kettle. It should be around here somewhere. “If you’d like.”
“That would kill me.”
Kagome shrugs. “Not if it’s not death root.”
When Inuyasha growls again, she has to suppress another shiver. Bad. Bad, bad, bad. “You’re insane.”
“Did The Guild not warn you of that?”
There’s a pause, the temporary quiet ruined by Kagome turning on the tap to fill the kettle. The crashing sound of water is overly loud in the kitchen, but it does nothing to break the tension. That’s fine, though. Kagome doesn’t want to break the tension. She wants to harness it, use it. There’s a reason she’s remained unbonded all these years.
When Kagome looks back up, kettle on, it’s to see a sort of warring expression on the familiar’s face. And really, he is very, very handsome. Not a flaw on him that she can see. There’s something wild about him, even when he’s standing still. It could be the canines that she sees flashes of when he talks. It could also be the dog-like ears that sit on top of his head, soft-looking. The eyes, though: there’s nothing wild about him there. While the colour is otherworldly, there’s something almost human in them – strange, for a familiar.
“It’s okay,” Kagome says eventually, breaking the quiet. “If you’ve read my file, you know that The Guild has sent me six different familiars to bond with in the last four years. None of them took.”
“You chased them away.”
“Obviously,” Kagome sniffs, crossing her arms. “I don’t need a familiar. I’m fine on my own.”
“Every witch needs a familiar,” Inuyasha argues, and oh, here goes the same trite speech that all familiars must be trained on. “While magic is safe to use, it can only be manipulated and regulated. It can’t be enhanced by a witch’s will, and if a witch wishes to cast a spell that requires more power than they have, a familiar helps—”
“Because a familiar is power and energy bred unto itself, made sentient. Yes, I am well aware,” Kagome finishes. “If you’ve read my file, you’ll know I’ve been to the Academy.”
“From 2016 to 2019, but you dropped out two months before graduation.”
“Yes, well.” Kagome waves a hand. “Things happen. I still learned. I got straight As.”
“Second in your class,” Inuyasha agrees, though his eyes are narrowing. It’s a kind of suspicion that’s based on instinct, Kagome knows.
She forces a smile to her face, recognizing the danger before her. “Ayumi studied five times the amount I did. I was more interested in reading other kinds of books.”
“So the report says.”
Well, The Guild certainly did its research on her. “Anything else in that report I should know about?”
“You’re smart. All of your professors at the Academy thought you could be a hell of a lot more powerful, if you applied yourself.” Inuyasha snorts at his own statement though, crossing his arms and making to lean on the kitchen table. He’s clearly forgotten about the biohazard, though, and the moss screams shrilly at him, forcing the familiar to straighten up again. “What the fuck.”
Kagome rolls her eyes. “I doubt I’d have been second in my class if I hadn’t applied myself.”
Those golden eyes narrow again, assessing. Kagome busies herself with making his tea. Remaining calm is important. Even unbonded, familiars are able to sense, to some degree, a human’s emotions. Not always, and not always accurately, but Kagome has been avoiding The Guild for years now, ever since—
“Here,” she says, sliding the overly large, steaming mug across the counter. “I left the teabag in.”
Inuyasha raises an eyebrow at her. “Don’t you take it out?”
“I don’t drink tea, so I wouldn’t know.”
The familiar stares at her, incredulous. “Do you know anything?”
Funny, that question. Most days, Kagome’s convinced she knows nothing at all, despite her years and schooling. “Maybe you’re asking me all the wrong questions.”
Immediately, Inuyasha groans, fed up. Kagome is genuinely impressed with herself. This may be a record for her, on the chasing-familiars-away front. “Witch, I am not here to play games or answer riddles. I suck at that shit.”
“Then what are you here for?” Kagome asks, leaning back on the countertop like she hasn’t a worry in the world. Ha. As if. She still hasn’t vanquished the shadow creature in her closet, and laundry day is fast approaching. Wait. Focus.
“You have to know The Guild is wary of you,” Inuyasha explains, which is blunter than any other familiar that’s entered her front door. “After what happened.”
Oh, so it’s going to be like this, huh? Kagome smiles sweetly. “And according to the report, what did happen, exactly?”
Inuyasha scowls, but Kagome isn’t worried. The familiar really isn’t lying when he says he sucks at playing games. Kagome keeps backing him into verbal corners. He knows it, too.
Because any report generated by The Guild must be based on evidenced fact. It cannot contain hearsay, unless it’s part of a direct statement. Even then, a statement is not evidence without proof.
Ergo, The Guild can trace nothing – absolutely, utterly nothing – back to her.
“Forget the report,” Inuyasha states suddenly. He swats at one of the hanging pots by his head, leaning forward to better glare at her. “It’s the rumours that have them worried.”
“Worried that I used soul magic, right?” It’s not a question, though. Every single one of the familiars that have visited her skirted around this issue. The Guide itself has sent a variety of assessors to judge her, and none of them gleaned anything. “Well, it’s been four years since I went to the Academy, but soul magic is traceable magic. Kind of part of the whole using-your-soul-to-enhance-your-magical-power thing. If it had really happened, The Guild would have locked me away or I’d be dead by now. Can’t have another Magatsuhi, can we? He wiped out nearly half of the magical race.”
Despite the horror in that statement, Inuyasha smirks. As much as Kagome isn’t buying what he’s laying down, he’s doing the same to her. “So you didn’t use soul magic to disappear into thin air when you accidentally ran into the most powerful witch The Guild has?”
“Nope,” Kagome answers blithely. “And you should watch your tongue. Are you suggesting that Midoriko – immortal, endlessly powerful Midoriko – lied about there being no soul magic imprints from where I supposedly vanished from?”
Glaring, Inuyasha stands back up straight, clearly pissed off.
“Drink your tea,” Kagome urges, “and then run back to The Guild. Tell them my answer is still no. I’m not interested in a familiar to gain more power or energy to manifest. I’m just a humble kitchen witch living in suburbia.”
Slowly, Inuyasha takes the proffered mug. He sips at it, those golden eyes staring at her all the while. Kagome doesn’t give him an inch. She watches him patiently, a half-smile on her face.
Is this little visit by a Guild-approved familiar inconvenient? Yes. But it has been entertaining. Kagome hasn’t spoken to anyone in three days. Besides, the familiar is attractive, despite his scowl and withering glare. This image will last Kagome a while, probably.
“Do you have a guest bedroom?”
For a minute, Kagome bulks. Inuyasha and bedroom and the randomness of it all is enough to stall all the pretty little thoughts in her head. And then things kick back into gear, but Kagome isn’t any less confused. “I beg your pardon?”
“A guest bedroom,” Inuyasha repeats, like he’s talking to a small, irritating child. “For me to sleep in.”
“Why, are you tired?”
“I will be tonight.”
Kagome scrunches up her face, horrified. “You’re leaving.”
“Nope,” he says, and it’s with the exact same inflection that she had used earlier. “I’ve been assigned to you, and I’m not allowed to leave until we come to some sort of bonding agreement. I’m staying here.”
She blinks once. Twice. The… The bastard is still smirking.
And then, to top it all off, the aqua blue potion Kagome’s had simmering on the stove since yesterday bursts into flames.
Salem save her.
He doesn’t leave.
Kagome pulls out all the stops, and none of it seems to make a difference. She takes the familiar from her chaotic kitchen to the horror that is her dining room. There isn’t a single table or chair within, filled to the brim instead with cages and tins, tiny herb gardens and shelves upon shelves of old, dusty books.
“Do you ever clean?” Inuyasha grumbles, and honestly, his rudeness never ceases, does it?
“I’m very busy,” Kagome replies. “Here, hold this, will you? Be useful.” She drops four different books into his arms, careful not to touch him and ignoring his increasingly pissed off expression.
“I’m not your servant!”
She blinks at him, feigning innocence. “But I thought you were here to help, as a potential familiar to bond with.”
His face actually twitches, golden eyes sharp. “Whatever. Where do you want these?”
With a smile, Kagome claps and whirls back around. “Oh, one more thing! Take this.” She grabs a lidded pot that’s sitting on the top of a metal filing cabinet, plucking it up and plopping it on top of the books in Inuyasha’s arms.
“What is this, exactly?”
“Shredding powder.”
The familiar freezes, hands flexing against their hold on the books. “Shredding powder? Like, if I make one wrong move and it puffs out, I’ll blind myself? That kind of shredding powder?”
“Don’t worry. It’s in its liquid state, still.”
Inuyasha opens his mouth, and then closes it. Kagome takes this as acquiescence and leaves, but not before the familiar howls behind her, “What the hell do you need this for?”
She doesn’t tell him. Kagome does everything possible to terrify him as she magicks the potion into a dry, dangerous sand. Inuyasha hovers, a looming, angry presence. His eyebrows are black, unlike his silver hair, and they are very expressive in his distaste for what she’s doing.
“You can leave,” she sings at him.
But he doesn’t leave.
Kagome really, really needs him to leave. This is not a good week to have some Guild-appointed familiar shadowing her.
She orders takeout for lunch, promises to cook dinner, and then gets so wrapped up redoing the potion on the stove – it’s not quite the right shade of aqua blue, but it still needs a few hours to settle – that she forgets entirely. Throughout it all, Inuyasha watches, huffing and growling and glaring without actually saying a word.
It’s—
Well, no, it’s not nice. Kagome really can’t afford to have a familiar following her around right now. But it is…different, to have someone here with her.
Not nice, but different.
Evening rolls around. He’s still here. Kagome is not panicking, only she is.
“I don’t have a guest bedroom,” she tries, after it’s clear she’ll be unable to chase the familiar away. Kagome’s exhausted from having to redo her potion and from sleeping on the floor the night before. She wants him gone. But more than that, she wants to sleep.
Standing in the living room – only faring slightly better than the kitchen due to a lack of biohazards, but an increasingly large maze of books on the ground – Inuyasha shrugs. “That’s fine. I’ll sleep here, then.”
“Oh, for—” Kagome cuts herself off, shaking her head. Whatever. She’s far too tired for this. Surely, she can deal with him in the morning. “Whatever. Stay here. I don’t have an extra pillow or blankets, though.”
Inuyasha smirks, and Kagome is finding it less and less attractive the more he uses it.
Well, no. That’s a lie.
But still.
“That won’t be a problem for me.”
“It’s an old house,” Kagome explains, a weak and last-ditch effort to lose the annoying shadow at her side. “It gets cold in here. It’s dropping down to single digits tonight and—”
Suddenly, Inuyasha vanishes. Only, rather, he doesn’t. Because familiars are really just sentient houses of power and energy, their forms can shift at will. So Inuyasha is gone, but in fact, he’s not.
He’s now just…a really, really giant dog.
Golden eyes still recognizable, Kagome watches as the dog opens its massive jaw and lolls out its tongue.
That’s a smirk. He’s smirking. He’s doggy smirking at her.
“I hope the moss comes and eats you while you sleep,” Kagome declares with all the sanity she has left (not much) and flees to her bedroom.
Kagome wakes up in her bed, which is a nice change of pace. Instead of screaming moss or exploding potions, it’s her cell phone alarm that’s blaring. This, too, is good. Normal. A normal Monday morning.
She gives herself a pep talk in the bathroom while washing her face and brushing her teeth. Today is June 7th, and it’s simply a regular Monday. Kagome will go to her little shop, sell her potions and remove some minor hexes, and then she’ll come back to her empty, protected home.
“I should probably buy some groceries.” The thought is fleeting. Kagome primarily subsists on takeout and snack bars. This is not healthy, but it’s hardly something she needs to worry about. “Vegetables and things.” With a nod to herself in the mirror, Kagome opens the bathroom door and barely holds back on a shriek.
There, sitting right outside and staring up at her, is a very large and very intent dog. Hound. Whatever.
“Why are you here?” Kagome asks, backing away to put some space between them. It seems impossible that she forgot about him, and yet. “Salem Saberhagen, you scared me.”
Inuyasha simply continues to stare at her. It’s both unnerving and mildly reassuring. Even in dog form, the familiar is a pain in her butt.
“Yeah, yeah, The Guild sent you,” she grumbles, shooing him away. “Well, I have a busy day today so if it’s all the same to you, I rather you left. Now.” She grabs fresh clothes from her armoire – she’s still not going into her closet – and tosses them onto her bed. “Go away.”
Inuyasha stands, his ears perked. There’s a stillness to him that’s mildly threatening, but maybe it’s simply his size. He’s at least three feet tall, with a thick coat and a predator’s gaze. Dogs normally are full of movement: tails wagging, ears twitching. But Inuyasha is not a dog; he’s sentient power and energy, given form.
Still. Today is June 7th, and Kagome really doesn’t have time for this. “I need to change, now get out, please!”
His lip curls, but he zips out of the room. Kagome waves her door closed, giving herself a moment to shut her eyes and breathe.
Right. The Guild-approved familiar problem.
She readies and heads downstairs, making a beeline for the kitchen and her already-packed vial case that sits in the fridge. She tosses it into her magicked purse, and then grabs the half-litre of chocolate milk to throw in. Her aqua blue potion, correctly made this time, sits in a thermos on the counter. She takes that, too.
“What is it?”
Kagome breathes in deep, remembering yet again that she’s not alone. This familiar is going to be the death of her. When she turns around, Inuyasha is back in his humanoid form. “What is what?”
“That potion.”
Kagome slides the thermos into her purse. “It prevents zits. I have a client coming in today. It’s going to be very boring.” Inuyasha raises an eyebrow, and she switches tracks. There’s no way in hell she’s going to be able to get rid of him entirely. If last night hadn’t worked, this morning will only end in failure. No, she needs a new plan of attack. “I won’t be long. Only an hour. Feel free to make yourself at home and – I don’t know – acquaint yourself with the skulls or something. They like to chat. You could probably get some information on me out of them.”
Actually, that’s not even a lie. Kagome’s only saving grace is that they’ll never, ever tell her secrets.
“I’ll get some groceries and we can have lunch, okay?” she suggests, hurrying out of the kitchen. She goes into the hallway closet, in which her broken ironing board, a rubber duck and her broomstick live. The broom shivers before Kagome even gets her hand on it, nearly leaping into her grasp. It makes it easy to flee down the hallway and towards the door. “Looking forward to arguing with you later!”
Kagome has never flown away on her broomstick so quickly before.
She practices some deep breathing while flying in the air, letting the crisp morning chill her bones. In true Kagome fashion, she forgot a coat to break the wind, but it’s fine. The evening will be warm for when she flies back.
Her little shop is tucked away in the eccentric part of town. Every city has one: a place where none of the stores match, and there are high-end boutiques mingling with pawnshops and bakeries. There’s a subway station not even two minutes away, but Kagome hates public transit. She hates anything that confines her, whether it’s a car or a sweater or a particularly heavy blanket. Her oversized t-shirt features the Looney Tunes, the hem extending to around the same place as her shorts. Her sneakers squeak as Kagome twists to unlock the door of her shop, still too new compared to the raggedy Converse she usually wears.
Her shop is actually a closet. A big one, to be fair, but a closet nonetheless. It was meant to be storage space for the sandwich shop beside her, yet the land owner decided to try and make bank another way. Kagome’s the idiot that rents it, but it’s hers. Tiny – with barely enough room for her floor-to-ceiling shelves and her desk – but hers.
She hangs the open sign on the small hook out front, and then waits.
Despite what she told Inuyasha, there are no scheduled pick-ups today. A handful of clients walk in before lunch, placing orders and purchasing some ready-made potions Kagome tends to keep on hand. She eats a non-expired snack bar for lunch, and lifts a hex from some thirty-something dude who looks like he has the personality of a wildly insulting hyena.
When the clock strikes two, Kagome groans and buries her face into her arms, sprawled across her desk. “Maybe I’m going insane,” she says. “Maybe I’ve got it all wrong.”
“I’ve only known you a day,” an annoying voice pipes up, “but I’d have to say ‘probably.’”
Kagome takes another deep breath. No. Absolutely not.
Unless.
Head snapping upwards, it’s Kagome’s turn to narrow her gaze. She stares at Inuyasha, suspicious. How is he here? In fact, Kagome had never even asked for identification or proof that The Guild had sent him. She had been too distracted by her potions, by her aching back from sleeping on the floor and her muddled head from too few hours of sleep.
Maybe—
“How did you find me?” Kagome asks. It sounds like an interrogation.
Inuyasha rolls his eyes. “It’s on the report, idiot.”
“Show me.”
“Can’t.”
Kagome smiles at him sweetly. “Show me proof The Guild sent you, or I will blast you so far down into the ground, you could kiss Satan’s toes.”
The familiar blinks at her, and it’s not a kind look. It’s the gaze of the unimpressed, like teenagers watching their parents try to use the word ‘yeet’ in the right context. Still, he snaps his fingers, a piece of brown parchment settling into his fist.
She can feel The Guild-branded magic before Inuyasha even hands it over. Her shoulders relax without her say-so, the familiarity of it almost nostalgic. The Guild Appearance Order is legitimate, signed by the immortal Midoriko herself. Kagome casts a tiny spell anyways, just to be certain.
Inuyasha’s scowl is an expected sight when she hands it back to him. “Feel better?”
“Not particularly. You’re still here, and I still have zero plans to bond.”
He juts his chin at her. “Why?”
“I don’t want to,” Kagome replies. “My magic, my power. Look around, Inuyasha. I don’t need more than what I’ve got to make a living. Why bond? And don’t give me the spiel again, Salem help me.”
The familiar rolls his eyes. “Less than one percent of witches over the age of twenty are unbonded.”
“Cool statistic.”
He growls at her, irritated. “You’re so annoying. Why are you so difficult?”
She smiles, blinking coquettishly at him. “You bring it out in me.”
The strength of his eye roll could rotate the Earth. “Look, witch, I don’t like chatting anymore than you do, but we need to come to some sort of agreement. Even if you don’t bond with me, you’ve got to bond with someone. The Guild isn’t going to play nice any longer. You’ve been without a familiar for ten years. They’ve had enough.”
“Well, you can tell The Guild that they can kiss my cauldron because I refuse—”
“Erm, hello?”
Kagome snaps her mouth shut and tries for a smile. There, peeking between the doorway and Inuyasha’s broad frame, is a young girl who looks barely more than fifteen. Her long black hair nearly covers her eyes, her expression a little lost. There’s a sense of sadness in her. Kagome frowns. “Can I help you?”
“Are you…” The girl shifts, and Inuyasha actually tenses for a moment before Kagome has to glare at him to move. Her office is, again, a closet. There’s not a lot of space, and this is someone who clearly needs her help. “Are you…Kagome? A—A witch?”
“Yes,” she replies patiently. “What can I help you with?”
The girl pauses for a moment, mouth pursing as she clearly tries to think. Then, decision apparently made, she steps inside Kagome’s office and thrusts a small backpack towards her that’s seen better days. “This is—This was my mama’s. I don’t—I just, sometimes I look in it, and I see her, and I think… It makes my dad sad, so I thought…”
There’s nothing else forthcoming. Kagome takes a quick glance towards the door before accepting the backpack. There’s no magical presence that she can feel on it. “Do you think it’s cursed?”
“Maybe,” the girl murmurs, clearly distressed. “I don’t know. Dad just keeps staring at it. He won’t stop. I’m scared to look at it.”
“Okay,” Kagome soothes. “We’ll figure it out. What’s your name?” She opens the backpack, and – still sensing nothing – reaches for the mirror within it. It’s cold to the touch, almost dangerously so. She frowns, pulling it out. “How could you even—”
Her doorframe flares to life, the old wood now burning bright red with her engravings. Inuyasha is growling, no longer in human form, but Kagome—
The mirror sucks at her, wailing, screaming, pulling. It will not let go and it wants, it burns like cold fire, like frostbite eating away at her insides. She needs to fight, to break the connection, to—
“Kagome!”
The mirror is ripped from her hands and thrown at the ground. It shatters instantly, but the magical enchantment remains. For a few precious seconds, Kagome has to gather herself. She’s been latched onto, and it’s going to take some time to rid the curse.
“It was only a matter of time,” the young girl declares, though the innocent act from earlier is gone. Her gaze is wild, lips curved into a sneer. “We found you.”
And then, with a cry, the girl pulls magic from herself and vanishes. Poof.
“What the actual fuck,” Inuyasha states, which is not at all helpful. Kagome tries to focus on the traces of magic that echo in the air, honing in on them while the familiar continues, “What the fuck are you wrapped up in?”
“You know,” Kagome answers absently, “tracking down a murderer from thirty-one years ago. Normal stuff.”
“From thirty-one—?”
“I need to go.” Kagome jumps up, magic flowing through her. She can see the threads now, the leftover remnants of the young girl’s power. It will only last so long, as weak as it is. “Stay here.”
“Hell no.”
This is not the time for a fight, so Kagome doesn’t try. She runs. She runs down the sidewalk, hopping onto the street when walkers don’t deign to let her by. The threads of magic start to unravel, loosen, and Kagome bursts into a run. She can’t lose this trail, she can’t. All of her hard work will have gone to waste, all because she was far too stupid, too distracted, too—
Magic does something, once cast. Non-magic users can’t feel it, but witches can. It’s like the very air bends, the world concaving to the energy being manipulated. Kagome feels it, and barely dodges the blast in time. There, standing down an alleyway, is a man with a pretty face and a haunting smile. The young girl from earlier stands with him, panting.
“Stay right there!” Kagome yells, casting her own attack. It’s deflected easily, but she’s expecting that. She sends another, and then another, relentless. The man grunts, irritated, and then in a moment of fleeting intelligence, he redirects her own spell right back at her.
“Boom,” Kagome whispers, and watches as the redirect fails, blowing up in the man’s face.
“Byakuya!” the girl cries out, his name ending on a shriek as all of a sudden, Inuyasha’s massive dog form leaps from the other side of the alley, blocking them in.
The man, Byakuya, bursts into laughter, even as he clutches his face. “A familiar! Well, well, you’ve been busy, little witch.”
“Save it,” Kagome snaps. “Why did he send you?”
“Gods don’t deal with peasants,” he spits, pretty face twisting into something ugly.
“He’s far from a god,” Kagome replies. “He’s a sick man who has killed tons of innocent people. Don’t you see what you’re doing is wrong? There’s no promised immortality! He can’t grant that.”
The young girl screams. “Yes, he can! We’ve seen it!”
On the other side of the alley, Inuyasha is poised to attack. He’s waiting, though. Watching. Listening. A good Guild spy, through and through.
“He’s lying to you. Stop this madness,” Kagome tries. She can only deal with one problem at a time. “Tell me where he’s hiding and I’ll end it, once and for all.”
Byakuya grins. “A god doesn’t hide,” he says, “but a very good supplicant does stall.”
The air thrums with electricity, like strikes of lightning. Bam. Bam. Bam. But with each burst, a new witch appears. They block off Kagome’s exit to the alleyway. In the distance, she can hear panicked shouts from the streets.
Some innocent is going to get hurt. Someone could die.
“Come with us, Kagome,” Byakuya says. “He only has one question for you.”
Behind her, the magic builds, so potent that it whines with power. Soul magic. Every single one of them is using soul magic, and there’s nothing a regular witch can do to stop it. There’s a reason The Guild teaches regulation and manipulation, but also a reason why a witch cannot infuse their will with it. This is why familiars exist, why they have purpose. A witch who uses their will within their magic – who uses their soul – will lose it, bit by bit. They are far more powerful, but far more dangerous.
The first witch to harness soul magic was Magatsuhi, who decided that he wanted to rule the world. He slaughtered thousands of witches. Even those who dared to use soul magic against him were no match for his strength. You have nothing to lose when you’re already killing yourself slowly. Soul magic is a drug, an addiction.
It took Midoriko, the most powerful witch the world has ever seen, sacrificing her soul to match his power, to destroy him and to save the continent.
Right now, in this alleyway, there are five witches about to attack her with soul magic. Every hair she has stands on end, electrified.
“You’ll regret this,” Kagome states.
“Oh no,” purrs a voice behind her. “I don’t think we will.”
Across the alley, Inuyasha growls. It’s practically a roar, but it does nothing to stop the witches that surround Kagome from attacking. Magic bursts into the air, overwhelming it. Ozone fills their noses, blood pools in their mouths. The wind turns violent, a hurricane from the snap of a finger. Kagome can’t see anything, anymore, her long hair a shroud.
The magic slams into her, and Kagome screams, drowning out the sound of breaking bones as Inuyasha bites into Byakuya. Kagome screams, and opens her body up, arms spread wide.
She pulls.
And then, with a hoarse cry, she huddles into herself.
The wind stops. The electricity in the air fizzles out. All is silent.
“How?” whispers one of them.
“Impossible,” whispers another.
“Go back to where you came from,” Kagome hisses out, and once again sends her arms out wide.
Commissioned Art by Noether3
Byakuya, the little girl, and the other witches instantly disappear.
Inuyasha, now in his humanoid form, stares at her. It’s wonder, and horror, and incredulousness and terror. There isn’t a word to describe what she sees, and there isn’t a word to describe what he’s feeling.
“You do use soul magic,” he growls out, ragged. Kagome staggers a little, and instantly he’s moving towards her.
“No, no, don’t touch me,” Kagome argues, raising her hands as if a shield. “Back off.”
“That much soul magic should have killed you.” He tries to touch her again and Kagome recoils, stumbling backwards until she’s flat on her ass. “Kagome, what have you done?”
“Back off,” she snaps, shaking her head. “I told you to stay home. I told you.”
“This kind of power— The Guild will kill you.” The admission sounds cold, even coming from this familiar that she’s barely known a day. “Do you know how much damage—”
Kagome snaps her fingers, and suddenly, the two of them are back in her office. The shattered mirror still remains on the floor, a couple of items from her desk fallen over in the struggle. There’s no time to clean it up, though. They have a tracker on her, a curse.
She goes for a shelf, grabbing a bottle of suppressant. It tastes like ash in her mouth.
“What the fuck,” Inuyasha growls from behind. “Stop using soul magic!”
“It doesn’t hurt me,” Kagome coughs out, trying not to gag. “So stop freaking out.”
There’s a pause. “Sure, right, it doesn’t fucking hurt you. Shit, you’re crazy. You’re actually insane.”
“You read the report, not me.”
“Fuck the report.”
Kagome downs another bottle of suppressant, hoping not to puke as she rolls up her left sleeve. “I’ll answer your questions soon, okay? But for every second this curse is in my blood, they can find us again. So shut up and let me work.”
“Who?”
Kagome whirls around. “That is not shutting up!”
But there’s a look in the familiar’s eye, something that reeks of desperation. He’s seconds away from running, she realizes with a jolt. And if Inuyasha runs back to The Guild, she’s screwed. Kagome’s been fighting a war, and she can’t fight it on two fronts.
“Inuyasha,” she whispers, “I will tell you everything, okay? I promise. No tricks. No magic. But I need to remove this curse. Can you wait for me?”
He stares at her, those dog ears pressed flat against his head. “Who is after you, Kagome?”
Taking a deep breath, Kagome makes a decision. It’s not a good one, but it’s been four years, two months, and nine days since a good decision was even an option on the table.
Well, then.
“He calls himself Naraku,” Kagome starts, slow and careful. “He’s a witch, a very dangerous one.”
“And why is he after you?”
Is it bad that she smiles? Kagome shakes her head. “Because I went after him first.”
Inuyasha growls. “Why?”
“Because,” she tells him, “he’s the one who killed Kikyo Hidaka.”