Disclaimer: Inuyasha is property of Rumiko Takahashi and co. not I
They had spent seventeen lifecycles together. They should have already rejoined the universe, but instead they chose to remain and recycle.
Over and over again they met and loved and died happily together. Once he was a farmers daughter in the rolling green Irish hills and she was the son of a noble family who chose her. Once he was a whore in the desert and she was a kind, loving, man.
That was usually how it went. Saving one another was a common theme; and she usually did the saving.
She was always beautiful, strong, proud.
He was always weak.
Three times, no four now, she was a priestess. Two and a half times he was a demon.
The times were tragic. Their love was eternal.
This turn something went horribly wrong. They were born a few years apart and it took him some time finding her. He had ridden too many turn. Things were getting a little muddled.
Then some piece-of-shit new soul was there. It was a baby, on it's first and seemingly last cycle. Even in this new incarnation he could recognize the brilliant newness of this one. His soul was beautiful. His love was blinding.
It would never be as tainted as they were. That must be what brought her to it. He could have chocked on his jealousy.
His soul was black.
Hers was stretched, worn, frayed, knotted. All by a jewel studded fold in time that never should have existed.
This newest incarnation was her last. He could tell.
He would go on and on and on.
It wasn't fair. There was no fucking justice in going on with out her.
Of course he didn't realize any of this until that one everlasting second before he died when mind and soul become one.
Hojo woke hours before he had to.
He had that nightmare again. And again all he could remember were spiders and searing fire.
His wife stirred next to him and mumbled a question. "It's nothing-go back to sleep" he would always tell her upon waking.
And for a moment he hated her and yearned, needed, suffered, screamed for a girl from middle school that he would always think of as the one who got away.