Set during Inuyasha the Movie: Swords of an Honorable Ruler.
To Die and Dye
She knew she was dying even as her body labored to bring forth a new life. She knew it by the clucking and worried frowns of the women, who had been ordered to attend her. Knew it by the way her heart seemed to pause before giving another frantic beat. And she knew it by the wet feeling spreading between her legs, dyeing the sheets and her robes a dark crimson.
Women bled when they gave birth, it was inevitable; another of the burdens place upon a woman's uncomplaining shoulders. But not this much and not so continuously.
Izayoi laid back her head, panting for breath and beseeched the women to leave her, to flee before her lord came and sought his vengeance. The women hesitated, more out of propriety than any real concern for her and certainly not for fear for the child's well being. She was only a demon's whore dying while trying to birth a demon's spawn, but they had their reputations to consider. Fear, of course, won out and they fled the palace as the night's sky was torn asunder by a dog's hunting howl.
Izayoi panted, but she bit back all screams of pain or fear. She was alone now, but she was not worried about the birth. Women had been birthing babies since time immemorial and plenty of women gave birth without the assistance of a healer or even a midwife. Nature would take its course eventually.
The muscles of her stomach rippled in the effort to expel the child from her womb and Izayoi felt herself cave in, her life bleeding out with the child, even as the palace shook and the ground quaked.
She felt her eyes close and could not help but waste a moment on thoughts of Takemaru, the man who thought himself so honorable. But he had been unable to face his self-appointed task of saving her from her disgrace and the smile that now played on her lips was thin. She pulled her last strength together and concentrated on her child, forcing herself to look at what Takemaru had been unable to tolerate: her blood on the sheets and the floor, dyeing the world of her prison a new, violent color while she watched, dying.