STANDARD DISCLAIMER APPLIED.

to mend a broken heart
by:
pixie paramount (5/19/2008, 8:29 PM)
Inuyasha, Kagome-centric & she's lived her (double) life well--just give her some peace


She carries his beads with her when everything is over and done with. (Inuyasha is gone, Sango is gone, Miroku—of course; and she feels lost in time.)

They are old and worn and his, something to remember him by—tangible and real and with her, now, amongst the skyscrapers and shuttle buses.

They dig deep, press a mark into her skin, so deep that she wants it to burrow deep beneath her skin and become a part of her. To slink through her veins and wrap around her heart like a chain.


This is how it ends:

They all died—Naraku, Sango, Inuyasha…everyone.

Except her, Kagome; she was the only one left standing in the end.

He's gone now, she thinks. The blood on her uniform sinks deep, and it will never really wash away.

The memories, she is sure, will cling to her like the beads held tightly in her hand—he had thrown them, abandoned them, and was swallowed by it, the kazaana; he didn't even say goodbye.


And she misses him—all of them, equally.

(But she remembers his kiss, his smile—so small, so sad, such a secret; he knew it was going to happen—and his hands cupping her cheeks as he bent down to kiss her.

For a brief second, as his lips sealed against hers, she thought: this isn't meant to be.

And it wasn't, because he died only moments later. He died and left her only the memories and those damn beads to remember him by.)

But she cries, sometimes, deep into the night, for each and every one of them.

(Sometimes, she wishes, that she hadn't been the only one—she wishes that they had that cliché, that happy ending; that they all lived happily in the end.)


She misses him.

The wind will howl on cold, winter nights and she'll imagine him—small and ripped from the world by a void—and she is left with a tight, constricting emptiness in her chest and regrets.

I miss you.