"Go home, Kagome." It was a simple answer to a complex question. "Make a wish on the jewel. Go home."
.
.
.
She didn't understand. The walk back to the village was silent. She fingered the jewel around her neck, walking slowly in an effort to give her more time to think, yet she stared hesitantly at the entrance to Kaede's hut far too soon. She entered. "Ah, Lady Kagome," Miroku moved to stand. "How did your talk with Lord Sesshomaru go?" She shook her head at him.
"It went okay." She shrugged, unwilling to share the details of the said conversation in front of the children. "Shippo," She began "Why don't you and Rin go play with Ah Un and Jaken. I think they're feeling lonely without you."
After the two had exited the hut, childish laughter following them, Kagome turned conflicted eyes to the two remaining in the hut. "I think... I need to go home." Miroku calmly walked to her side. He knew she would need support making the decision. His hand rested on her shoulder. She drew in a breath at the touch. She felt his pain through his hand, his grief for his intended still fresh on his mind. The pain flashed around her in a form of light visible only to her, and through the light, she saw her. Sango, standing there. Staring.
"Why didn't you protect us, Kagome?" Her eyes were… Wrong. They were inky black, and no emotion shown through. "Miroku would be happy if you didn't let me die." She said to the shaking girl of only seventeen. Blood started to pour from her eyes and nose as her voice changed to one she knew well and hated. "Well, little Kagome? Why Kagome? Why are you the one still caught in the web, when you were the one to survive?" She looked down to avoid the gaze of the one she had known as her sister, only to stare at the tentacle piercing her side. "Silly little girl." Black liquid poured from the wound and coated the wriggling mass. Her lungs filled with miasma; her head started to spin. Her knees weakened and she felt her body begin to fail her. Kagome collapsed, hands not moving to catch her fall. She stopped midair, however. Arms wrapped around her tenderly, yet strong. She saw her mentor and friend, Miroku's face above hers. His face was kind yet worried. A strained, yet soft smile graced his lips when she met his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, yet the voice that tumbled out did not match the scene.
"You failed us. You failed my love and yours. You failed your son, your family, and yourself." She held her shoulders and cried into the offending body, knowing he was right. She opened her mouth to speak but instead of her voice, all she heard was a violent static ripping through her brain. She heard Kaede's voice and suddenly the static in her head faded. She did not quite catch what the elderly woman had said. Should she ask her to repeat that, or would she just be accused again? She contemplated this decision.
…
Kaede watched with pained worry as she saw the child stagger where she stood and began to fall. Miroku caught her, as his hand was already on her arm and he had seen the lapse in balance. She heard him speak to her.
"Kagome? Kagome are you alright? We're all worried about you, and if you think you need to go home to return to health, then we will support your decision." Kaede saw her arms crossed over her chest as she began to sob violently into his shoulder.
"I know it's my fault, I know. It is my fault they're gone." She rasped into the purple robes. "I know. I know. I know it is. It's my..."
"Kagome..." Kaede's parental voice cut her off. "It's not yer fault." She looked up to her, conflicted. "It's not yer fault." The look on Kagome's face cleared, instead of terrified confusion she saw a look of sad relief. Whatever episode the girl was having was reaching its end. "Ye need to breathe deeply. Miroku,"
"Yes, Lady Kaede?" The monk responded calmly.
"Fetch the poor girl some water and bring a washrag." She added, feeling the girls clammy face with the back of her hand. "Child, you must understand that we all appreciate all you've done for us. Ye came to this world frightened and naive, yet you took what was given to ye and made yerself a hero." Kagome would not raise her eyes; her gaze watched the ground as if she feared Naraku would dig himself out of hell.
"Ye have become a mother, a lover, a friend to many. Hundreds of people know ye, if not by name then by deed. The shinkon priestess, the slayer of spiders, the pure heart. Even the few who had not been touched by Naraku's evil fingers. Chances are, a sacred arrow from yer bow saved them in a chance encounter." She paused to greet Miroku back into the small, but much-loved hut. Her wrinkled, practiced hands made nary a splash as she dipped a small washrag into the cool stream water.
Kagome glanced slowly around the hut, searching until her eyes found what she was looking for. Leaning against the wall, next to her old backpack, stood her weapon. Her Naginata, Hand of Grace, had snapped in the battle against Naraku, and the scar was marked with a glimmering gold. Below the blade, a ribbon of familiar red fabric decorated the weapon. She reached out her hand, hoping to feel the reassuring pulse of the staff's life force. Hand of Grace was silent, as it had been since it had broken. Totosai had assured Kagome that the blade had been fully restored, and yet it will not speak to her. She let her hand fall and chuckled dryly.
"Miroku," Began the young priestess, sitting up. "please fetch the children for me."