But I'm always alone, and my heart is like ice. And it's crowded and cold
In my secret life.
"Are you scared, Miko?"
Kikyo continued running through her routine: stab, twirl, charge, twist; her bare feet padded silently over the moonlit grass as she gracefully executed a complex series of attacks. Her face remained stoic as her white sleeves billowed and swirled around her.
It was the first time he'd spoken to her since joining their party and she was ignoring him. Sesshomaru tapped a finger against his thigh and repeated himself. "Are you scared, Miko?"
The priestess finished her routine. Stillness flooded back into the meadow. She turned to the demon and arched an eyebrow; he noted beads of sweat slipping down her pale skin. "Scared?"
Sesshomaru glanced at campfire wavering in the distance. Silhouettes gestured like shadows cast across the orange glow. "Yes," he murmured, turning his face to the night breeze. "Frightened."
Kikyo stood still, arms crossed, and gazed at the forest's dark walls pressing against the clearing. "Not for myself, no." She drew her arm up and pressed her hand against her neck where the shikon jewel used to rest, absently stroking the bare skin. She still felt off without its presence.
"For Inuyasha?"
She pursed her lips together and turned her eyes to Sesshomaru; they were as dark as the sky. She looked hollow. "For everyone. I'm scared for everyone."
The demon let out a slow breath. "As am I."
Kikyo stepped towards him and lightly touched his hand. The warmth of her skin surprised him, though he showed no reaction. This could be the last time we speak. They had a desire to open up and connect—anything to make the moment seem like it meant something. They settled for breathing in-sync and staring at their companions laugh before the flames.
"Good luck."
The final battle hovered like a bloody sunset on the horizon.
your thoughts? Worth continuation?