AN: Finally part 3. I already had this written, but I was basically too lazy to find it again.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

At the End of Every Road

Tragic Warrior

A lone woman walked slowly on the road, eyes staring upward into nothingness. Her long, dark brown tresses were held loosely by a white tie. The expression on her face said little, though one could assume she was deep in thought. However, she was barely thinking. She didn't think of anything in particular, just useless thoughts that floated by every now and then. For the moment, she was just focusing on the sound of the lake that could be heard flowing into a distant waterfall somewhere, the rustling of leaves, and the pitter-patter of animals quickly ducking into shrubbery.

It sounded like a beautiful melody to her, and without realizing it, she was humming. Her voice was soft yet firm as the tune became stronger and stronger inside her. As her footsteps carried her closer to her destination, she stopped humming. There were too many bad memories.

Brushing against some trees, she stepped into a clearing and was met with the sight of a desecrated village from long ago. The burial mounds built for all the dead were still in order, even after these few, long years.

Even the weapons for each warrior were still present.

Walking over to a certain grave marker, she found that it was still filled with amber colored flowers. A small smile touched her lips as she reached out and traced the lettering carved on it. He was so young and innocent.

Your death was not in vain, little brother…

--

The sun beat down on her back as she struck the ground once more with the shovel. The dirt around here was tough and hard to crack. The hole she had created was only a foot deep. With an angry sigh, she tossed the shovel aside for a moment, sitting near the hole, arms curled around her knees. Every now and then, her eyes would glance over to the hole, then to the grave marker, and then back to the hole.

The sun was slowly beginning its descent and the sky was becoming blotched with small traces of pink.

She heard a few birds caw every now and then, flying towards the nest to their young or awakening to catch their prey of the night. Sweat beaded at her brow, but she only wiped it away with the back of her arm, not giving up. The hole was now three feet deep.

As she pushed the shovel further and further into the slowly breaking dirt, her thoughts shifted to someone…Someone she had once cared about for what felt like so long ago.

"You know I love you." He stated, rather than questioned. He was never one to question anyway.

"Of course…And you know I love you…Right?" She had to ask, why she didn't know. Perhaps because she wasn't as strong as she appeared to be on the outside.

He gently took her hands into his. Rubbing them softly, he felt the traces of her tough skin, a sad smile on his face.

She always doubted herself. It hurt to think that she wasn't accepting of herself when he loved her beyond all imperfections she thought she carried.

His sad smile deepened even more, as he firmly laced his fingers within her own.

She didn't stop bringing down the shovel though. With each thrust, her blows became more severe, wilder, less controlled. Her mind was a swirling void of emotions and she couldn't comprehend them all. But the grip on the shovel never loosened. Huge blisters were forming on her already toughed hands.

In one quick moment, she cast the shovel aside, breathing heavily. The hole was now five feet deep, about where she wanted it to be, right next to the grave marker of her little brother. She had never felt surer in her life than at this point.

Without hesitation, she laid herself inside the hole, sword held in hand.

As the last bits of sun disappeared over the horizon, the beautiful crimson of the skies waved it goodbye.