Disclaimer: I don't own InuYasha
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His breath exhaled in a warm puff that looked like smoke drifting on the wind as he moved silently through the frozen forest, the snow muffling his footsteps as he walked, lost in thought. His ears swiveled to pick up the sounds of life that existed even in this frigid cold--once in a while a small bird chirped, a fox moved cuatiously along, footsteps making the barest whisper as it hunted its prey, rabbits dashing quickly for the safety of the warren when they caught scent, sight or hearing of the fox.
His golden eyes stared blankly ahead as his mind thought, the warmth that was once there gone, replaced by the chill of loss and pain, left there from the season past. His arms were folded inside the arms of his shirt, and he didn't seem to notice--or at least, didn't care--that his feet were barefoot in the cold snow.
That seemed to be the crux of it, that he didn't care. As far as he was concerned, the big battle had been lost as soon as the miko had been injured, and he hadn't stopped what had happened. They had defeated the enemy, taken back the whole of the Shikon no Tama, but they were still injured,she was still injured.
She was home now, thank Kami she was still alive, but for who knew how long? She was in that large building, the one that smelled of dying. She was hooked up to machines that he didn't know what they did, and it was all his fault. Just because he hadn't been able to stop her from being injured.
"My fault..."
A whisper, barely passing his lips, as he looked up, tears unshed shimmering at his eyes, to look at the sky, full of stars, a nearly full moon hovering among them. Save for the warm puffs of breath drifting from his lips, he could have been a statue.
He was on his way to the well now, to check on her, to make sure she was still alive in that place of bad scents. With a sigh, his eyes, clear and cold once again, moved down to the ground and he resumed his trudge. The clearing was in sight, the well edged with recently fallen snow, sparkling in the moonlight. She would find this beautiful, he was sure. This scene looked like it could almost be from one of those books she brought through now and again. The barest wisp of a smile touched his lips for a second as he paused to look, then vanished as he padded softly forward and hopped into the well.
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He walked up to her house and knocked on the door. It was answered a few seconds later, by her mother.
"She's not home yet, and it's past visiting hours at the hospital. Come in, stay the night, we'll visit in the morning, okay?"
He nodded his acquiescence, and walked in through the door. Looking back at her mother, he tilted his head.
"Where can I stay...?"
"Go on up to her room, I'm sure she wouldn't mind, were she here."
A small smile was shared between them, as he turned and headed up the stairs to her room. Her mother knew more than she let on, he thought. He doubted that if circumstances were normal, he'd be sent to her room, to bask in her scent for the night. But were circumstances normal, he wouldn't be here, wouldn't have to get her scent from her room, would be able to get it from her. Now he was sure, that her mother knew more than she let on--why else let him stay in the one place that would comfort him?
He pushed open her door, and sniffed lightly at the scents wafting out now, before sitting down on the floor, leaning against her bed, arms tucked back into his sleeves, as he simply sat and enjoyed the scents. Soon enough, his eyes closed and when they opened, it was morning.
He shuffled out of her room and downstairs to the kitchen, leaning against the doorway as he watched her mother bustle about making breakfast as her grandfather and brother set the table. She turned around and spotted him, smiled, and told the two at the table to set another place. The grandfather whined something about demons eating with humans, and the brother set the plate and utensils out before tackling into the half demon, nearly knocking him over and babbling questions to him at an inhuman speed. He tried to keep his ears from flattening as he grabbed the boy and carried him over, setting him in his chair. Her mother came over them, and served him some food as he sat down. He picked at it for a while. A conversation was carried on, comments directed at him received a grunt in reply, and soon enough, the conversation just ignored him. His ears perked up once as something caught his attention.
"...and the nurse said that we could come visit her as soon as visiting hours opened. So we can swing by in about 3 hours, and stop in to..."
He lost interest again, having gotten the information he needed, and let the conversation drift around him again.
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He stared blankly at the pictures playing on the box in front of him. It had failed to capture his attention today, as worried and impatient as he was to visit her. His ears perked up as a comment directed at him reached him.
"It's time to go visit her."
A smile directed his way, a grunt of assent as he stood and followed her family out the door to what she had told him was called a car. He shook his head a little, hating the scent, but got in anyway. He jumped a bit as it rumbled and started, before it rolled down to the street and turned out of the driveway, on its way to the place where she was.
The ride passed in silence, and as they pulled up to the building, her mother looked at him.
"Try not to complain about the scent this time, dear, and just take pleasure in visiting her."
Another brief smile was ignored as he pulled himself out of the now silent and stationary car, folding his arms inside his sleeves, waiting for the family to lead him to her.
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She lay pale and silent in the bed, her eyes closed. Machines were attached to her, and the steady beep, beep, beep of one echoed the heartbeat he could hear faintly. His eyes warmed as a bit of the grief left. She was still here, still alive. Her heart was still beating, and this reassured him more than anything. He walked carefully up to her, and laid his hand on top of hers, smiling a tiny bit as he stood over her. The rest of her family had surrounded her, were talking to her. Hoping she could hear him, he whispered to her a few things, asking her to please wake up, please hug him, say something, do something, and stop laying there!
No response came, an he studied her face from where he stood. a few scratches stood out red against the pale of her skin, her mouth slightly opened as her breath whooshed in and out, barely audible about the humming and beeping machines. A bandage wrapped around her forehead, covering the long cut on the side of her head.
His eyes trailed down her arm to where he was holding her hand. Her arm was pale, it seemed paler than normal, as scratches, gouges, cuts, scrapes stood out against it. Bandages covered the worst of them. He wondered if she could feel them, even in unconsciousness. He hoped not, as they looked painful.
Her hand where he held it was cold, as if this building was taking the life, the warmth, out of her. His ears, under the hat he wore to hide them, were laid back at this thought, before they relaxed as his mind through the fact that this building is the only reason she was still alive. He prayed to Kami it would keep her alive, and get her better.
He wondered vaguely what her family had told the hospital. He doubted "Oh, she was attacked by a demon in the Feudal Age of Japan" would cut it. He didn't know what the doctors had been told, and aside from the slight enjoyment it would undoubtedly supply (Her grandfather and mother had ridden to the hospital in the large car thing that took her away, and he had no doubt that her grandfather had been the one who told the doctors what had "happened") he didn't particularly care. His mind traced back to why she was like this, but he shied away, fearful of breaking down, or doing something to reveal what he was if he let the memories take him. He would think later.
He glanced away for a moment when he noticed it was too quiet, and found her family gone. Pulling over the chair the grandfather had been using, he sat down, and continued to hold her hand and stare at her face. He wished desperately she would awaken.
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"Shh, shh!"
Kagome's mother had looked back in at Kagome and InuYasha, checking to make sure everything was still okay. The scene she had saw made her smile, and she had quietly backed out, before turning to find the rest of her family.
"He's asleep!"
She shushed them both again, they were talking rapidly, arguing about InuYasha no doubt--Kagome's grandfather didn't trust him at all still, and Souta and him were always arguing.
"Shhh!"
"Alright, mom, we're shushing!"
They walked quietly back into the room, and looked at the picture presented to them. InuYasha was half laying on the bed, his hand still on Kagome's, arm draped on the bed, head leaning on his arm. His other arm hung next to him, dangling towards the floor. His hat had nearly fallen off--thank Kami the doctors had stopped checking Kagome every five minutes or so, or he'd probably have been caught out for what he was. His eyes were closed, his breathing easy. He looked relaxed, more so than she had seen him in a long time. A small smile hovered on her lips, as she watched the scene.
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He snorted, and shook his head. The annoying hat fell off...oh Kami! He hurriedly grabbed it from where it had fallen onto the bed and pulled it back on, sitting up as he did so. Her mother watched amused from the doorway with the rest of her family. He turned back to face the girl on the bed before him, placing his hand back on hers.
"We came to get you, visiting hours are just about over."
He sighed and glanced back at her, his eyes pleading.
"I'm sorry, but once visiting hours are over, we have to go."
He sighed heavily, and turned to face the girl once more, leaning over carefully and brushing his lips against her cheek before standing up and moving towards the door. The rest of her family moved towards her and said their good nights, before going back to the door and leading him to the car. He glanced back one last time, and thought he saw the faintest of smiles on her face. Maybe she would be better tomorrow...That gave him all the hope he needed to wait.
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R&R, you know the drill. I always respond to reviews, and I welcome the betterment they bring to my writing. Depending on the response to this one, I may make it into a chapter story, featuring the other three seasons (This one is winter, if you couldn't tell)
