I dreamed I was missing
He was not dying; he was not losing blood, he was not trying to keep from breathing his last breath, was he? He could not die, not like this, not now. He still had many things he had to do; he had yet to gain the power he sought. What power did he seek, he was feared by everyone and had more wisdom than most. He had neglect his lands in search of this power. He did not care about the other lords or gaining more lands, nor did he care about courts. His father had protected the West and the people in it, human and demon. But his father cared little of the way of the courts. He was not dying, no, he could not die.
He was the last of his kind, last, of his name, save Inuyasha. Inuyasha, he did not want to think of him, not now, yet his feet were walking in that direction. He could not be dying, the blood coming from him was not running in son's veins. He had no sons. He had not wanted to mate; he was going to live as long as he could before he 'had' to take a mate. He never thought he would be dying.
No, he is not dying. He was still young, a mere 2,000 years old. His father was 7,000 when he died, and he was still 'young.' He never thought he would die this soon; no one should be able to spill his blood as it was spilling now, not now anyway. He had at one time thought about gracing a woman's womb with his child without mating, but he had honor and pure blood running in him.
He was the last of his kind, save Inuyasha, but to him, Inuyasha did not count. He could not die without first having a son, or many sons, or a daughter, whatever.
His blood was not spilling from his body; he was not becoming weak. How was it that his half breed brother did not smell his blood? Was the rain washing the scent away? To him, it was making it stronger.
He reached a tree and held against it.
He heard a gasp then a yell "Inuyasha!"
The Miko had seen him; she had been kneeling trying to gather stuff to get from the storm, the rain. As soon as she had seen him, she dropped everything and yelled his bothers name. She sprang from her knees and ran to him. She placed on hand on his arm and the other on his chest. The one on his chest was soon covered in blood.
"Back away Miko," He said through clenched teeth.
"Inuyasha! do something!" She yelled, what good would it do?
"Why should I!?" He yelled back; everyone was just standing in the rain. Everyone seemed shocked, well everyone other than his brother.
"He's your brother!" Kagome yelled as if was going to make a difference. Sesshomaru looked at the group, the slayer and monk look scared, and the fox kit shivered in fear. Sesshomaru closed his eyes.
"Mi...ko," he said her name cutting it in half as he fell to the ground. She went with him, to her knees, both her hands on his chest. The raindrops fell on his face but his face was becoming numb, her warm hands on his chest were feeling lighter. All he could make out was her voice, screaming his name, over and over and over.
"Sesshomaru!" She screamed it over and over, in till it faded.
He was not laying there in the rain; he was not losing all his blood, his brothers Miko was not touching him, he was not dying.
Or was it that he was not dying because he was already dead?