a demon slayer's demons
The slayer was frozen to the place. She choked back a whimper. As promised, Sango wouldn't cry. Still, there was only so much she could do to repress the instant urge to throw up as she witnessed the mangled body in front of her.
'Sango?'
'Hm?'
'Do you promise?'
'Promise what?'
Kagome had been silent for a moment then. Sango had assumed to understand what the younger girl had meant, had anticipated a potential return of the modern girl to her own time, but if only she'd known the miko's true intentions…
'It's fine. You don't have to say it, Kagome, I always know what you mean. I promise not to cry.'
She'd promised. "Thank you," Kagome had said with a smile. She'd promised, and now…
Kagome.
The young girl's eyes – the once beautiful, vibrant miko – were wide open, her neck snapped, head lying at an implausibly odd angle, her body having collided with the ground violently. She was missing a…
'Kami,' Sango couldn't help the disgusted shudder. She didn't want to think about it. Oh, 'Kami… Don't think about it. Don't look. Don't look.' But she did look. 'Kami.'
The blood wasn't gallons, but it was Kagome's and the mere notion was outrageous. And the sight… the sight was beyond horrendous. Scarring.
'Dear Heavens…'
Naraku had triumphed.
Oh, God… not you, Kagome... never you.
Byakuya had helped. It was so unbelievable to think of Kagome in that position… in that bloody state. The memory of her laughing and crying, the memory of her alive at all seemed so distant and surreal, and it wasn't supposed to ever be that way – Sango was afraid she'd lose it. With great difficulty she suppressed another bout of heart-wrenching sobs that taunted her with their creepy loom. Desperately, she tried to stop her hands from shaking uncontrollably as she cradled her friend's lifeless body. If only the others had been there, if only Kagome hadn't had to protect that poor child, if only there hadn't been so many demons for Sango to ward off.
… if only Naraku hadn't been such a cunning, heartless bastard.