"For all the wounds that are never gonna scar me
For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me
Never coming home
Never coming home"
-My Chemical Romance "Ghost of you"
He stood silent and waited, until eternity seemed like nothing. The wind flowed over him like a soothing hand, and pressed against the night, he began to whimper, slow silent tears of grief trailing watery paths down his cheeks. It was as though the world itself had ended, closing the door on him when it seemed he hadn't even lived life at all. All these strange new emotions: fear, regret, anger, and sorrow all whirling around inside his soul, turning him into a wreck.
The pain of wounds new and old, no matter how severe, were nothing compared to the pain he felt now. Though not dealt from a physical blow, or from the cruel steel of a sword, this pain stirred deep inside his spirit, a leaden weight in his heart. All around him the forest was silent, respectfully quiet in service to an anguished half-demon.
His heart was shattered, a thousand tiny motes of light dimming in a vicious, all-consuming darkness. The darkness in which he drowned, deep despair, fury, it all threatened to choke away his sanity and leave him stripped of worldly happiness as it was. And nigh the moon stood watch in bloodless skies above; a silent sentinel over the sloping lea that nestled the form of a sullen half-demon and a deep dark well over which he was stooped.
'Gone.'
The word reverberated horribly within his skull, but was the truest thing he knew in this world.
'Gone.'
The hideous reality where he lay forever trapped in its cold embrace, entranced, captivated by the sheer enormity of what had taken place.
'Gone.'
It was her; His only one; the person in which his deepest needs had been realized. She was the holder of his heart, and he her protector, sworn in by the most noble of oaths. As a man he felt it a certain duty of himself to defend this girl; his friend and companion. But there was something else, something so secret even he hadn't realized it until the time was well on its way out. He had fallen in love with her, not just because she was the reincarnation of the woman he loved fifty years ago. No, there was much more than that. She had her own qualities which had drawn him to her – a certain, fragile kind of grace, and her indomitable attitude; she had read him as if he were an open book.
That entire tough-guy attitude and all those harsh words, all the posturing, just an act, a miserable act to which he based his miserable life. And now he didn't even have that to cling to, depressed and morose in the deepening twilight, with nary a cricket to keep him company.
"Stupid," he muttered, barely a whisper. "I am so STUPID!" This time a howl of dismay, echoing into the night. Nearby, a flock of blackbirds roosting in a tree took wing, startled. Their fluttering faded and Inuyasha let his head fall upon his chest, sighing to himself.
A tear single tear carved a watery path down his cheek, falling, a solitary diamond gem to the earth below. Breathing hoarsely, a rough stinging feeling in his throat, he rose to his feet and turned to leave.
'Mourning over the past is useless……useless.' With his sleeve he hastily wiped his face, coughed to clear his throat, and left this place of sadness. His heart heavy. The light of his soul, once exuberant, brilliant, dying away.
'I need to sleep on this,' he thought. But he left, knowing that sleep would not come easy….