Yay! Finally finished. :) I'd appreciate reviews... there are more things in my head, and I would like to know if I should bother putting them down. Flames are welcome...but not necessarily read. :) insert lawyer stuff- I don't own Inuyasha, etc, etc, etc.
Catch me as I fall
Say you're here and it's all over now
The battle had seemed to last an eternity. Screams of children and mothers, echoing cries of men finding some random limb of someone in their family, the pools of red on the ground. . . then the mist came. The fires that blazed within the shattered huts reflected dreamily in the fog, glittering in Inuyasha's blazing eyes. He always gets to be so vengeful when the innocent were slaughtered, Kagome thought to herself, even as she felt small saplings of fear beginning to take root in her belly. She knew that Inuyasha would want her to be brave, and clinging to him would only irritate him, especially in battle. So, instead of actually touching him, she only scooted closer to his rather tattered form, hoping for the usual comfort of his presence.
He was hunting the demon, even as he absently murmured to the girl next to him. Moments passed, oddly quiet. The hanyou paused a moment, then growled low in his chest. A sudden choking wave of smoke washed around them, and Kagome watched helplessly as Inuyasha bounded after a prey only he could follow, evanescing from sight.
She fought a panic, knowing he could fend for himself, and she had plenty of arrows yet for her own defense.
Still. . .
"Sango? Miroku! Where are you?" She shivered as her voice seemed to die at her feet in the intense blanket of fog.
A weight fell heavily on her shoulder and the young miko fought a scream. Don't distract Inuyasha. . . She heaved a small sigh when she realized it was Shippo who landed on her.
"Kagome, Kagome! Are you all right? Where are Sango and Miroku? And where's Inuya-"
His words died in his throat; his body tensed, eyes wide in fear. Unsettled, Kagome followed the kit's gaze, a little to her right. A glittering form was arcing its way towards them, seeming to repel the mist and smoke around it with a familiar blue glow.
It was the Tetsusaiga.
The sword landed with a heavy thud at Kagome's feet, lodging itself deep in the soft soil. A deceptively gentle flash of light surrounded it, and the magnificent fang faded again to a rusty, nicked blade.
Shippo and Kagome stared into the opaque curtain with wide eyes as a sudden roaring cry echoed off the corpse of the village. The sounds of battle followed closely behind.
Speaking to the atmosphereNo one's here and I fall into myself
Kagome and the kitsune had finally found Miroku and Sango after searching for what seemed like hours, though it couldn't have been more than a few moments. The pair had been on the outskirts of the village, ushering the last stragglers- mostly the very sick or elderly- out of the devastated town. Once recounted with the happenings in the midst of the smoke, the monk and taijia were only too eager to find their friend and unofficial leader.
"Inuyasha!"
"Hey! Inuyasha!"
The demon exterminator was now in the air with Kirara, hoping to spy a red haori in the grounded cloud; the other three searched cautiously below, working their way from one side of the village to the other.
Kagome clung to the Tetsusaiga, thanking the gods for the aura that shoved the blinding fog away. She was trembling. Miroku was too tense to offer his usual comfort, and Shippo was buried deep within the monk's robes, only poking his head every so often the holler, "Hey, Inuyasha!" before diving right back down. As frightened as she was, Kagome couldn't help but be reminded of a prairie dog.
"Inuyasha, where are you?" she whispered, almost afraid to attract his attention. She knew that Inuyasha would never hurt her while in his right mind, but fully transformed. . .
She tried to console herself in her thoughts as the group reached the last set of huts and stepped out in the smoke-ridden clearing beyond.. Maybe he was injured! Gods, I hope not. But, maybe that would be why he hasn't answered. . . Is he stalking us? No no no... maybe...maybe he is trying to fight it, like when he got separated from Tetsusaiga while fighting Ryuukotsusei! And. . . and he's just looking for the Tetsusaiga right now. . . Oh God, be all right. . . don't be transformed. . .
Almost on cue to Kagome's increasingly hysteric thoughts, a low growl floated towards the group. The trio on the ground froze. Sango swooped by overhead, oblivious to the warning.
"Sango?" Miroku called up cautiously. Calling that quietly was rather pointless, considering the woman had to be at least seventy-five feet over their heads. Nevertheless, Sango seemed to have heard.
"Houshi-sama?" There was a faint pause before she cried out. "Kagome! Mirok-ahh!" Sango's warning call suddenly covered by a feral cry. There was a squeak, a tense pause, a sickening thud. Miroku paled as he bolted forward towards what he prayed wasn't what he thought.
Kagome blanched and followed, still clinging to her hanyou's sword. Her ears were ringing as a strangled, horrified cry from Miroku and Shippo mixed haphazardly with a roar of pain from Kirara above. Suddenly, her head snapped up as she heard a throaty laugh track over her; so foreign, yet so familiar. . .
Acting only on her desire to see Inuyasha again, she tossed Tetsusaiga straight up in the air with all the strength she could summon. The blade sliced an enormous hole through the smoke until she could see what was happening in the sky above her. . .
Kirara was diving down to her fallen mistress, even before Inuyasha reached the peak of his second attacking leap. The cat demon never managed to reach the smoke line before a brilliant red streak cut through her path.
Everything was moving in slow motion- Kagome's dumbstruck gasp sounded as though uttered miles away. The sparkling trail of blood falling from the path of Inuyasha's claws circling the cat's form hesitated in the air before arcing to return to the earth; for a heartbeat, Kirara seemed uncertain of whether the hanyou-turned-youkai had even touched her. Then, with a pitiful mewl, she slumped in mid-air. Her body began to twist, and, as it turned, her torso finally fell apart, her hindquarters sliding away from her shoulders.
This truth drives me into madness
Kagome screamed. Somehow seeing something split in half was so much easier to see when it wasn't one of your trusted friends. She began to tremble violently, her body splicing away from her mind. Her body began to panic; her mind fought not to follow suit.
Inuyasha laughed again as he fell casually through the smoke. "Aw, so sad. . . " he cooed roughly. He tasted a bit of the red staining his claws before continuing. ". . .and not much of a fight. Hm?" He paused to watch a glittering sword fall gracelessly from the sky to his right, not quite paying attention to the girl on the other side of this fallen oddity. The youkai regarded the object cautiously, an unconscious growl rumbling in his broad chest.
I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away
If I will it all away
Not twenty feet from Inuyasha and the fallen Tetsusaiga, Kagome froze. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest, and she felt near to madness. He had never gone this far before. . . he had never hurt them. She felt herself hyperventilating. It was just too much- the burning red eyes, the violet slashes scarring his cheek, his grotesquely long fangs and claws. . . those she could live with. It was the spray of blood darkening his haori, torn from battle; it was the gore dripping from his claws, and even his fangs, suggesting he had bitten something or someone; oh, and worst of all, it was the animal joy of the hunt-even when the prey was his friend- shining in his eyes. "No..." she whispered, clamping her eyes shut. Maybe if she closed her eyes and told herself enough that it was true. . . it wasn't happening. . .
Suddenly she felt the wind shift. She heard a dangerous bark from the direction of her transformed love, followed by the sudden rush of movement. She braced herself for his attack, completely forgetting her power over him in her terror. A moment passed before she realized that it wasn't her that Inuyasha had leapt after-
It was Shippo and Miroku.
"KAGOME!"
Her eyes snapped open. "No. . . " She could finally move. "SHIPPO! MIROKU!" She ran towards the shriek of her adopted "son," praying to every god she could think of that he hadn't gotten to them. . .
As she ran, she snatched up the Tetsusaiga from where it had clattered to the ground. . . seconds ago? Days? Weeks? And how long had it been since she had seen her Inuyasha, just Inuyasha. . . her hanyou?
She was closing on the scene. Tears were falling freely now, the silence killing her. There should be screams! Cries, yells, scuffing. . . anything but this maddening nothing. . .
She was almost there. Just wait for me. She heard a sudden rush of air and soft thud somewhere before her, and a puddle seemed to spring from nowhere in the cloud. She slipped in the thick liquid, unprepared for the change in traction. She grunted in surprise as she fell backwards, throwing her hands back, hoping to halt her fall. What. . . Wait. . . that color. . . that. . . that smell- she knew what that was. . . She looked up sharply. There, in the brush before her, was. . .
"NO!" She couldn't hold back the cry of anguish. Her self-preservation instincts, begging her to be silent, were completely overridden by her grief. Everyone. Everyone she held dear to her was dead! Gone in so short a time. . . and by the one man she loved. Wait. . . that man. . . she could still save him. Hope fluttered briefly in her chest as she regarded the sword glinting peacefully in her hands. She set her face in determination, dragged herself up from the cold ground, and stepped forward into the mist, Tetsusaiga before her guiding her to her fate.
Don't turn away (Don't give into the pain)
Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)
His instincts bristled. He paused his careless stroll back to the fallen sword, fully alert. Aha...there was one more alive. . . one more to kill. The ones he had found so far had been terribly disappointing. The one riding in the sky was taken by surprise- that was entertaining- but she had gone down (literally) without a fight. The neko youkai? Again, just a simple swipe, and she. . . fell apart. He found the little kitsune kit as he was running towards the other female, the one still breathing. That was rather amusing. The kit had skittered to halt at his feet, his eyes wide and shimmering in terror. That was an excellent ego boost, that. And the kit ran! By far the most interesting. The human male, however, was pathetic. Inuyasha snorted with derision just thinking about him. The robe-clad man was just lying there, in the gore that used to be the human female, sobbing silently. There had been a faintly angry and defiant glint in the man's eye when he had looked up as the hanyou-turned-youkai materialized before him, smirking. Inuyasha had experienced a tiny sprig of hope that the kneeling form would stand up. . . but no. Of course not- that would have been too interesting. The man had just curled up into himself, cradling the remains of the former-woman's head. Inuyasha felt almost like he was doing the human a favor, taking him out of his misery like that. No fight from any of them.
Speaking of fight, the last living was before him. She was deathly pale, trembling so much Inuyasha began to wonder how she managed to stand. She had obviously passed the kit. He smirked at the mental picture.
"Inuyasha?"
He blinked at her placidly, wondering how in the hell she knew his name. Maybe he was a more notorious (and thus better) demon than he had thought. No matter. He waited patiently (well, as patiently as an Inuyasha in any form could). He had all the time in the world for her. Besides. Something deep within him was hesitant to kill her. Slightly perplexed at the feeling, he tried to push it away.
"Inuyasha. . . come back. . . "
Now he really was confused. Come back to where?
Tears were creeping gently down her face again. The saline smell reminded him of blood, which reminded him that she wasn't dead. That last part was easily remedied. He lowered himself slowly to a ready crouch, a low growl rumbling through his chest.
She barely had time to shrink in fear before he leaped.
Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)
Don't turn out the light (Never sleep, never die)
The demon idly flicked the excess gore from his claws, testing the air for life. Nope. Not a soul. He smirked to himself. Far too easy. He frowned when he realized just how easy it had been. His raging instinct (and pleasure) to kill had been sated only slightly, and it was quickly regaining force. He glanced passively at the girl, watching a stray breeze tease a few raven locks. Ok, so she wasn't totally dead- she would die quickly with no one around to help her, so it would be alright if he just sauntered off right now. Besides, the feeling that he had done something horribly wrong was getting really, REALLY annoying. He snorted derisively at the mass at his feet, irked that she induced that feeling, and turned on his heel.
Just as he tensed to leap off in search of more prey, a glint caught his eye. What's this? That sword that had fallen from the skythe one that girl had been brandishing so bravely (or foolishly, depending on how you looked at it) and then flung away in terror when he had pounced. . . it. . . it called him. He felt. . . drawn.
What's with all these stupid feelings, anyway?
He slunk over to the fallen blade, mentally switching between applauding the girl for flinging it a good seventeen feet away from her and cursing himself for his caution. Since when did a simple sword- and one just laying there, for that matter- scare him so much? Wait- scare? Keh! He was a full-blooded (and thus powerful) demon. He wasn't afraid.
As he approached, he suddenly noticed that it seemed like his hip was being pulled rather insistently towards the sword. Glancing down in confusion, he saw the scabbard he was wearing- God knew why he needed a scabbard- was glowing faintly, and tugging toward the fallen weapon. He scowled, his crimson eyes shooting a withering glance at the sword. Maybe. . . the sword is really his? But wouldn't he remember owning something like that? Though the scabbard was on his person (demon?) and it was glowing the same color that the blade had now adopted. . .
His limited non-battle thought processes spent, he shrugged and reached for the blade. . .
before falling to his knees with a hiss of pain.
The moment his hand had reached within the gently pulsing aura of the sword, he was almost physically pulled in two directions- it felt like he was being torn, body and soul. One instinct, the one he could recognize and understand, was screaming at him to run. Escape that blade and all it entailed. That instinct was suspiciously like a self-preservation instinct. . . his demon blood hated that sword. It was desperate to leave that sword's presence.
The other side, though. . . it was all but dragging him towards the pulsing blade. It wanted that hilt in his hands- it needed it. But that instinct was also bogged by a. . . guilt. Inuyasha did not like guilt, so, naturally, he was more than interested in leaping away into the gently swaying forest behind him. If it wasn't for the fact that this guilt-ridden part was very persuasive.
Grumbling curses at himself, Inuyasha snatched up the worn handle of the sword. Instantly, a great pulse of energy shot through him, sweeping like fire through every vein, every capillary. . . every ounce of blood in him was burning. He could feel some deep, unconscious part of himself fighting this energy. He was tense; every muscle in his body felt close to snapping. He wanted to drop the blade, to flee this something, but he could not let go. Then-
-a final pulse, and then nothing.
The creature managed to stay standing for an agonizing moment, swaying uncertainly before dropping unceremoniously to his knees.
I'm frightened by what I see
Blood was assaulting his senses. It was all he could smell. It was all he could taste. He was terrified that it was all that he would see, considering how much he felt on and around him. Shippo's; Miroku's; Sango's; Kirara's. . . and Kagome's. It was all wrapped together in one heart-stopping, gut-wrenching bundle; his brain strained to decide which scent came from where. His blood-matted ears perked as his eyes snapped open, revealing a stunning gold darkened to brass with fear.
"Kagome. . . "
He scanned the vista before him, his eyes darting anxiously from mass to shadowed mass; his ears flicked, nervously alert, searching for the slightest sigh of sound. Suddenly, a recognizable form. Ears pricked, he sprang towards the shape, unconsciously clinging to the Tetsusaiga in his trembling hand. As soon as Inuyasha neared the body enough that the deceptively peaceful fog seemed to clear, he skidded to a halt in amazement, his feet sliding out from under him. He sat dumbly, staring at the great fire cat Kirara. . . well, half of her, anyway.
"Dear gods. . . "
But somehow I know that there's much more to come
Immobilized by my fear
The once proud feline was split in two, her insides now out. The spilled blood was pooled between the halves, but there was definitely some sprinkled in an arc around her. But worse than the sight of Kirara's still form was the scent radiating from the wound. It was him. His own scent was attacking his nose. . .
Inuyasha's chest was heaving as he gasped for air. He had had a suspicion that he had transformed, but. . . but. . . even before. . . he. . . he never. . .
He shook his head furiously, trying to tumble his thoughts back into order. He had to find Kagome- now. He was absolutely terrified that if he could hurt Kirara, who was to say. . . ?
He scrambled to his feet, claws digging into the soft soil. Without really paying attention, he slammed the Tetsusaiga into its sheath and leapt off in search of his friends.
And soon to be blinded by tears
Miroku was found next, with a decidedly gaping hole gouged in his torso. His staff was thrown to one side, forgotten, on top of what was once someone's liver. Inuyasha pondered that for a very brief moment- if that organ belonged to Miroku, wouldn't the staff be on the bottom? Taking a step closer to fallen holy man, Inuyasha peered into the monk's face. Suddenly, the hanyou's stomach twisted terribly as he managed to focus on the expression frozen on Miroku's face. It was a pitiful mix of pain, anger, sadness, and. . . betrayal. Inuyasha's eyes felt hot and tingly- he would start crying in moment because of that goddamned expression. Well, that, and the fact that Miroku reeked of Inuyasha. That wasn't helping much either.
Inuyasha wrestled his gaze away from the face on the ground, shifting to look instead at the more familiar (and non-expressive) sight of gore that Miroku was laying in. But what was that wrapped in Houshi's arms? The swirling mist was shielding whatever it really was from Inuyasha's piercing golden eyes, so he stepped yet closer. He dropped to a crouch, gingerly pulling and shifting Miroku's stiff digits around the object until he could discern what it was.
With a strangled cry, Inuyasha leaped away. He was trembling violently now, his breath shallow and uneven. He couldn't stop the tears that finally began to creep down his red-stained cheeks. That. . . that. . . it was Sango. Her head-well, sort of. Her head had been totally detached from her body; the skull was completely crushed on one side, making it look like she had fallen a great distance and landed face-first. Now he could see it- there was an arm, still attached to a shoulder and deflated ribcage. . .
Everything suddenly made sense. Miroku's staff was on top of the rogue organ because it had already been there, which meant it had belonged to Sango, which meant that Miroku had actually found the woman like that, splattered into so many different pieces. . .
He couldn't take it. Inuyasha knew that he was the one that killed them. . . he didn't know exactly what happened. . . but. . . he was responsible. He was the one that was supposed to protect them, dammit! And. . . and. . .
He shot away again, searching for Kagome. It was rather hard, considering that his vision was so blurred with tears; the drops swept away by an errant breeze or by his stuttering leaps sparkled in the sunlight that managed to peer through the black clouds rolling in from the east.
He didn't have to fly far before he found Shippo. The kit was partially facedown in a rank pool of red. One arm was bent at a grotesque angle, his tail matted with blood and half as long as it had once been. God knew where the rest ended up. The terror on the boy's face. . . what were his last thoughts? Before. . .
I can stop the pain if I will it all away
There were glistening trails down his face now; the tears flowed freely. Did he even want to find Kagome? What if. . .
He felt something hit the tip of one drooped ear. It twitched automatically. Inuyasha looked up to the quickly darkening sky, musing about the drop of rain that had teased his ear. The clouds had been rolling in for who knows how long, and he had been too preoccupied to notice. He closed his eyes, his face tipped to the ominous clouds above, and let the genesis rain mingle with his tears.
There would be a thunderous storm later. . . it was building quickly. Already the wind was beginning to blow through the desolate village clearing. It gusted against his tense form indecisively, as though uncertain of where it wanted to push him. There was a brief hush from the air; for a moment, only the peace of rain reaching the earth, the distant crackle of a dying fire, and Inuyasha's own breaths touched his ears.
If I will it all away
It was soothing. . . he could forget where he was. . . what happened. . . He could imagine that everyone was all right; everyone was intact and happy. He could pretend that he was standing in a clearing, just like this, and the sound and scent of fire was because of the campfire. . . Sango and Miroku and Shippo would be around it, which would be why their scents were faint and mingled so freely with the smoke. . . yet, they would be alive. And Kagome. He would stand here. . . the wind would shift, just like it was doing now. . . he would turn his nose to the wind, and her sweet scent would drift lazily to him, just like –...
Don't turn away (Don't give into the pain)
He froze.
Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)
There it was. . . so near to him. How could he have not sensed it before? He must have leapt over or by that area a dozen times. . . or was it only once? Time and action made no difference anymore. He sniffed cautiously, testing her scent. Tears that he had forgotten to shed in his reverie started anew. Her scent -her sweet, gentle scent- was almost drowned out by the blood and tears. An instinct told him to listen for a heart, but why bother? There was no way she could be alive after all that blood. . . and. . .
Tears. She had cried. Was it for him? Or did she shed tears for herself? He scoffed quietly at that thought. Of course it was for him. She never thought of herself. He had made her cry. He hated her tears, hated the fact that something had hurt her; and now. . . he was the cause and root.
Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)
Did she know her fate before she fell? He glanced at his feet. He was back at the spot he had "awakened." He sniffed again, trying to decide how close she was. The bottom dropped out of his stomach when he realized that she had been no more than twenty feet away from him the whole time. . . how could he have not felt her? He could tell when she had crawled up the well even though he was a mile away. . . and he couldn't feel her twenty feet to his side?
Don't turn out the light (Never sleep, never die)
He wanted to run. Not to her, though; he was deathly afraid of what he would find. He wanted to run away from everything. His thighs bunched, ready to spring. Maybe, if he ran fast enough and far enough, he would forget. . . or maybe. . . she would be alive again. . .
Fallen angels at my feet
The wind suddenly flared, nearly knocking him over, the rain stinging his flesh. He unconsciously threw a foot back to brace himself against the gust, his mind still lost in his delusion. The air gusted again, this time in the thicket before him, manipulating the foliage until the trees seemed to scream.
Whispered voices at my ear
. . . yasha. . . Inuyaaashhhhhhhaa. . .
His head snapped up so abruptly he was dizzy. But the pain didn't matter. . . he could have sworn he had heard her voice call his name. . .
Inuyaaaashhhhaaaaaa. . .
Yes! There it was again! His ears pricked forward hopefully as he took a hesitant step forward.
The gusts quickly died to a gentle caressing breeze. He closed his eyes against it and tilted his head, letting the rain patter softly against his face.
Inuyasshhhhaaa...
He was back in his own world now. Inuyasha's nose sorted through the smell being pushed to him, ignoring the blood and pain and betrayal. . . no, all he registered was that sweet signature. That scent that was all Kagome; the only scent that soothed him and seemed to love him, just by being. And that sigh. . . she was standing next to him, her head turned to the rain, enjoying it in a way he would have never really understood before her.
Death before my eyes
His mind was shutting down. The horror that was reality wasn't important anymore. . . all that mattered was in his head. Kagome was near him, alive. Her presence was exuding that peace she always seemed to possess, soothing his heart. Inuyasha turned again and stepped forward in his mind, trying to get closer to his mental Kagome. He moved again, and again, never realizing that his body was following his imagination.
Lying next to me I fear
In his two worlds, fictional and real, he had stepped right up to his Kagome. His mind had already accommodated for the fact that her scent was at his feet by making her lay down in the grass invitingly. Lay with me, she seemed to say. Who was he to deny a request like that? So, he lay down, stretching the length of his body against hers. He wrapped an arm around her waist, ignoring the sticky something he felt, and pulled her limp form close. His hand wandered restlessly over her stomach. Then, as though instinctively searching for life, the fingers trailed their way to Kagome's chest, resting against her faint heart beat.
He was slipping farther into himself, giving up all ties with the real world for the reality of his making. He figured that if Kagome was dead in one world, but alive in his. . . that's all that mattered.
Time passed- though how long could never really be told. The passage of seconds or days ceased to have meaning for the grieving hanyou. The storm blew past, ravaging the blood-soaked clearing with its cleansing rains. Soon, the sun kissed the earth again, drying the soggy earth. But half of the goings-on of the world were never registered by Inuyasha. He faintly remembered Kagome being cold and him trying to warm her by curling her into himself; then, he knew somewhere along the way the stench of blood that his mind had been actively ignoring had lifted. No matter. Now he could focus entirely on her scent- which, incidentally, was fading. So was the heartbeat. But that was no problem. . . he remembered her scent- he always would. It was nothing like the deadness of Kikyou. . . hers was just earth and bones, not the fresh scent of life.
He wrinkled his nose, irritated. Since he had started thinking about the undead priestess her scent had grown stronger in his mind. At the same time, Kagome's heart against his hand had been weakening, no matter how hard he imagined otherwise.
"Inuyasha. . . " Kikyou emerged soundlessly from the forest, her skimmers weaving placidly in her wake. Her face, unnaturally blank, flickered with emotion for only a breath. A smattering of hovels still burned in the village before her to the right. She stepped lightly through the gently swaying grass, following the feeling that always lead to Inuyasha. This time, however, the feeling of fate was replaced by a feeling of wrongness. Something had happened here that should not have. She would know if he was dead, but something else. . . ?
Inuyasha grew restless. Kagome's pulse, whether real or imagined, had stopped. Everything in him was fighting that realization. He had never fought so hard to imagine anything in his life as her heartbeat; not even when he tried to will Kagome into kissing him- and that was some intense imagining. And yet, the harder he fought, the more something in him fought back. Something was horribly wrong. . . and inexplicably, he wanted to know what.
His mind-created world was slipping, and the real one was trickling in its place. His nose was starting to pick up the scent of death again, however dampened by rain. He could feel a breeze against his face, and, mundanely, the worst of all was that he was starting to feel his wounds. The itching that accompanied healing mingled with a dull throbbing pain that washed through his body. And then Kikyou. . . yes, he could sense her.
But he fought acknowledgment- his realities were at war.
"Inuyasha..." Kikyou could see it now. The form a great demonlay mounded before her, obviously shredded and mangled.Beyond that and a little to the left, her skimmers were floating steadfastly towards a cluster of corpses. This battle was recent...yes. There, just teasing the top of the grasses shielding it, a red and silver fluttering.She followed after her flying allies, noting dispassionately that most were now hurrying towards the village, where a multitude of souls were hovering indecisively over the ruined houses. Two skimmers, however, remained at the field. One, reaching for a small, sad spirit; the other, circling near the red mass as though waiting for a soul to emerge. Kikyou drifted in her otherworldly way towards the form that she knew was Inuyasha, calling the duo of wayward skimmers to her side. Smiling, as genuine a smile as she could create, she accepted the pitiful captured soul, triumph surging through her.
She beckons me, shall I give in
NO.
But… I… I'm the one that did it… I am to blame…
Yes.
I… can't deal with that… my…
Get Up.
… my Kagome…
Get Up Now. Leave. Move On. It's not like she would have lived anywhere near as long as you. You would have had to let go eventually…
BUT I KILLED HER!
THEN GET UP!
NO!
Why Not?
I promised…I'd be with her…
And you know who else you promised?
…no…
Oh yes. She's here now. Go to her.
…no…Kagome…
Inuyasha's eyes snapped open, breathing heavily. Lost, he looked around frantically. Finally, his gaze rested upon a limply fluttering shirt before him. White, with green, and a bright red bow. . . like Kagome's. . .
Kagome. . .
With a cry, he leapt away. He remembered now. Kagome, Miroku, everyone. . .. . . gone.
He promised he would protect them. . .
Promise.
Like he promised Kikyou. . .
Kikyou. . .
But he didn't want to go with Kikyou. . .
Kagome.
Kikyou.
"Kikyou. . . "
"Inuyasha."
He nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him. Whirling to face it, ready to attack, he slumped when he recognized her. Kikyou. Cadaverously beautiful, a swirl of the dragon-like soul skimmers enhancing her other-worldliness. He loved her once. Not with the passion and depth and purity that had flourished since he met Kagome. . . but it was something. And he promised her. He remembered now. He promised.
Upon my end shall I begin forsaking all I've fallen for
"Inuyasha."
He somehow knew some of the thoughts in her head: "What have you done? She is dead. And you killed her? Well done." He turned his head. 'Well done,' indeed. He killed her, betrayed her- everyone. Tears threatened again.
"Inuyasha. I am again complete. She is gone; you killed her yourself. Do you see? She was never really meant to be here. It was only meant to be us."
He kept his gaze trained on the rusty earth at his feet. No. Kagome. . . but yes, she is gone. What more is there to life than Kagome? Nothing. Emptiness… like Kikyou. Yes, they were meant to be together. . . but for all the wrong reasons. Maybe, if he went with her, he would meet his sweet, sweet. . .
He looked up, resolution in his eyes.
Smiling, Kikyou opened her arms, accepting him in her cold embrace. "Just as we were meant to be. Come with me to Hell, Inuyasha. We'll have eternity together."
Goodbye, Kagome. . . goodbye.
I love you.
"Yes."
I rise to meet the end
