Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters in this fan fiction are the property of Rumiko Takahashi. The original characters and plot are the property of Chiaztolite, who is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary of Previous Chapter: Entering the territory of Grief, Sesshomaru was tortured with memories of Chikatani and Chikatani's sacrifice to spare him from terrible abuse. He realized the vaguely familiar scent he smelled on Kagome's corpse was the scent of Zetsubomaru's subjugation potion, which had the abilities to put the victim's thought and actions under total control. The realization that they were merely puppets only fed his grief further, drawing new enemies to attack them.

The Way to Elysium

Chapter 13: Penthos (Grief) - Part Two

"We are not alone," Sesshōmaru gritted through clattering teeth.

Kagome could feel it too: the shaking of the ground beneath her legs, the thundering of thousands of little feet scurrying closer and closer. They both watched the mist, waiting. Chilled fingers of dread crawled up her back and curled themselves around her neck. She swallowed.

Still waiting.

They emerged from beyond the mist: crawling creatures that resembled black spiders, about the size of a large crab. Though their size was not considerable, they attacked in large numbers, marching towards them in droves.

Kagome could feel Sesshōmaru's hand trying to push her farther away from the creatures, but she refused to budge. The maddening yōkai glowered at her with his crimson eyes, but she ignored him. She would fight by his side, come what may, and there was nothing he could do to stop her.

She was ready to fight them off: kick, punch, or crush them under her feet, whatever it would take. But strangely, the creatures ignored her, giving her a wide berth, as though they were attracted to something that Sesshōmaru — and only Sesshōmaru — emanated. She recalled his distress earlier, how at some point he looked like he could not even breathe. What was it?

Fear? Agony?

It was difficult to believe Sesshōmaru would be overcome by Fear, so she discarded that option almost immediately. Agony, then? Or—

Her eyes widened. She thought back to their conversation in the meadows under the tree right before they encountered Gaudia. She recalled his dark, sorrowful mien when he spoke of Chikatani.

It was Grief. The creatures were drawn to his grief.

They attacked him in relentless stream. She knew his beast had been rattling its inner cage for a while as he strived to contain it. This time, he allowed it to take full reign. Eyes fully crimson, facial markings turned jagged instead of smooth curves, he clawed at them. Green poison dripping from the tip of each claw. The spider creatures let out a high-pitched shriek as they were torn apart. He agilely slayed multiple creatures at a time, and she thought to herself: they just might come out of this unscathed. But soon she realized, for each spider he killed, ten, twenty, thirty more emerged from beyond the mist. It did not take long before he was greatly outnumbered and unable to keep up with the horde of creatures coming his way.

He roared in fury when the creatures surrounded him and he began to transform: silver tresses turned to mane, facial features elongating as his limbs enlarged and lengthened and morphed into his giant beast form.

Kagome watched from the sideline, awed and terrified for his sake at the same time. He did well crushing many of the creatures with his massive paws and swiping them with razor-sharp claws, but there were endless streams of them. Soon, he was swarmed and overrun. They climbed up his legs and onto his back, rapidly covering him in a blanket of writhing black mass. He howled in pain, a heart-rending sound.

They were eating him alive.

Kagome's heart clenched with fear. She had to do something. Even in his true form, Sesshōmaru would not last long like this. Looking around, she caught the sight of his swords lying on the ground, a safe distance from the thrashing inuyōkai. Her eyes were immediately fixated on Bakusaiga.

If only she could use the sword…

Her eyes widened. Would the blade accept her, now that she had Sesshōmaru's blood in her system? Only one way to find out.

She ran to the swords and picked up Bakusaiga.

"Bakusaiga," she called the sword. "I know I'm not your master, but he really needs you right now. So please—"

She pulled on the handle and unsheathed the blade. Immediately, she felt enormous power snaking up her arm. It burned terribly, as though her arm had been struck by lighting. She clenched her teeth and persevered. The sword was heavy, so she wrapped her other hand around the handle. The flesh of her palms sizzled as both hands burned, but she ignored the pain.

"Please," she whispered to the sword. "Lend me your strength."

'I have to make sure to not hit Sesshōmaru,' she thought as she took a stance. Swinging the sword as best as she could, she aimed for the mountain of spiders that were attacking one of his fore legs, desperately hoping that Sesshōmaru's blood inside her would help with the rest.

Bakusaiga's green bolts of lightning barrelled through the swarm of the spider-like critters, destroying them upon contact. The sparks snaked up Sesshōmaru's legs and up along his back. The critters disintegrated, falling off him like bits of ashes. As expected of Sesshōmaru's signature weapon, the powerful blade worked quickly and efficiently. Soon, the silver-maned beast was fully uncovered, free from the creatures. Kagome exhaled a sigh of relief when she saw Bakusaiga had not harmed him. For a moment, the beast trained its glowing crimson eyes on her, on her hands that were still holding onto Bakusaiga's handle. Then, as though it had lost all its strength, it fell onto the ground and transformed back into his humanoid form.

She grabbed both swords and ran to him, skidding to a halt next to his unmoving body.

"Sesshōmaru!" She called his name repeatedly. "Can you hear me, Sesshōmaru?!"

Kagome lifted his head, careful to not jostle him too much, and cradled it on her lap. She hissed when she saw the terrible bite wounds. Those critters had gauged his flesh in many places, creating lesions that were ringed with blackish purple bruises. Venom. Her heart sank even further.

"Sesshōmaru!" She called him again, shaking his shoulders in near desperation. "Don't you dare die on me, yōkai!"

Sesshōmaru cracked his eyes open, just slightly, grimacing. He tried to sit up, but the pain must have knocked the wind out of him. He was unable to raise his back more than a couple of inches from the ground. His head fell back onto her lap.

"Miko, how can… this one die… when you are shouting in his ears… like that?"

Kagome started to laugh but stopped abruptly when he coughed. There was some blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Not much, just enough to alarm her. He must have suffered some internal injuries, she thought, and her heart gave another fearful squeeze.

"This is… pathetic." Golden eyes, as bright as molten sun, stared straight into her. He might be severely injured, but his gaze had not lost its intensity. "Do not… ever… tell Inuyasha… about this."

She could not help but laugh again, even when her eyes started to well up with tears. His beautiful hair was matted with blood. Tenderly, careful to not cause him more pain, she moved the few strands that were sticking to his cheek away from his face.

"Only you can think of sibling rivalry at a time like this, Sesshōmaru."

He seemed to smile at her with his eyes as he gave her a scoff. Although, the sound that came out of him was more of a wheeze. She paled. Had his lungs collapsed? He had thrown himself — hard — against a boulder earlier. Had he perhaps broken his ribs and punctured his lungs?

Sesshōmaru coughed again, and more blood spilled from his mouth. He reached for the wrist of her hand that was cupping his cheek, holding it in a grip that was surprisingly steady considering the evidence of fatal injuries. His voice: rough and gravelly, resembled nothing like his usual rich, silky baritone.

"Miko, I need you… to do something..."

"Anything. Tell me."

He stiffened when a fresh bout of pain wrecked his body. When the agony released him, he fell back down onto her lap with a choked breath.

"I need you… to kill me and revive me with Tenseiga."

Her heart nearly stopped when he finished his preposterous request. What?! Just the mere thought… It made her chest clench painfully. She started to shake her head.

"With my blood… in your system, you were able to wield Bakusaiga. I'm betting everything I have left… that you… will also be able to use Tenseiga. Take more… of my blood… if you need to—"

"No! Don't you dare say—" His grip tightened around her wrist, cutting her words short.

"I wish I don't have… to ask this of you. We don't have the luxury of time… to wait around for me to die. You need to be prepared. I will… teach you—"

"Sesshōmaru." She shook her head and gave him a watery smile. Bending down, she pressed her forehead against his, breathing in his scent of blood and smoke. "Please, don't speak of death. A powerful daiyōkai like you… Wounds like these are nothing to you."

But even as she said those words, more blood was bubbling at the corners of his mouth. He was gasping as he tried to breathe, his face contorted in pain. Still, his lips tipped up into a faint smirk. "Didn't know you're such… a bad liar, miko."

"Be quiet and reserve your strength," Kagome ordered, more sternly as she fumbled with the fastenings of his armour so she could assess the extent of his internal injuries.

"No, you be quiet… and listen," he insisted, stopping the hand that was on its way to unfasten his pauldron.

"You need to… do it quickly. Before the next wave… of spiders arrive." He handed her a small knife that he fetched from the folds of his sash, closing her fingers around its handle.

"Stab me… here," he rasped, squeezing her fist around the knife and guiding her towards a fatal spot underneath his jawline, somewhere between his chin and his left ear. "It will kill me within seconds. And then… use Tenseiga… Hold it over my dead body. When you see… the pallbearers from the underworld… slice them with the blade. With any luck, I would be… revived."

With any luck?

She glared at him in horror. To stab him, to kill him, was bad enough. Then, to have to rely on a sword which could be temperamental…

All of a sudden, as her ribcage tightened painfully with fear and repulsion, she found it difficult to breathe. What is this feeling? She could not bear the thought, the possibility of him not being revived. Her heart ached as though someone had stabbed her with a knife, and his words — his ludicrous request — was the hand that twisted the handle.

… …

To think that it had come to this… The mere notion of being killed by anyone, it was unthinkable.

But… Sesshōmaru knew his conditions, and the severe damages his body currently endured. She had suspected his internal injuries, but he was the only one who knew for certain. A broken rib had torn his chest wall and punctured his lung. Another one was critically close to his heart. Though it had not torn the organ, a tip of the broken bone had nicked a major blood vessel. He was bleeding slowly, steadily into his chest cavity. If he moved even a touch, he most likely would tear his heart. The poison from the spider bites was gradually spreading. Even now, he could feel his limbs getting numb. The tips of his fingers were tingling with odd, unpleasant sensations.

There was no hope to repair these damages without his yōki, and there was no hope to produce yōki without materials from the living realm. And the prospect of returning to the living realm anytime soon was nigh impossible.

It was bad all around, and getting worse by every second that passed.

If — or when — he died, and was revived by Tenseiga, there was a good possibility he would come back to life without all the injuries he currently sustained. After all, Rin had not retained the bites and wounds from the wolves when she was revived. Jaken had been halved at the torso. Even though the toad remained in two parts after he was brought back, he was able to repair himself without any trouble afterwards.

He just might regain all his power after the miko resurrected him. It would be their only hope.

Gazing at her tearful face, he understood how heavy a mantle he had forced upon her shoulders. And at this moment, he could see she was having a hard time to reconcile with it.

"Sesshōmaru, no!" She lowered her head again, raven hair spilling over his face. That scent of mandarin peels tickled his nose, granting him a little bit of beauty in their grotesque circumstances. "How could I, when there's a chance Tenseiga will not revive you? I won't do it!"

She wept more. An odd thought passed through his mind as her teardrops landed on his cheek. He hoped he had not caused her tears more than Inuyasha had. If he could spare her the burden of killing him, he would have. But he did not know if Tenseiga would stir for someone who took his own life, and he could not take the risk.

Yet, seeing her weeping now and shaking her head continuously, he knew she would not do it without one last push.

With his bloodied hand, he touched her cheek, wiping away one teardrop with the pad of his thumb. It was difficult to speak now, but he gritted the words out.

"Would you rather… that I die slowly… and in pain?"

Her velvety brown eyes widened at the question. Her cheek was streaked with his blood, the red stain prominent against her pale skin. He knew her gentle heart could not bear the thought of anyone – even someone like him – in pain. She shook her head slowly and closed her eyes. Tears streamed freely down her face now. But when she reopened her eyes, he saw a resolution that was not there before.

"You… trust me to do it?" She asked.

His eyes lingered on her face as more blood rose up, filling his mouth. Strangely, yes. Just like any mortals, he had wondered about his death: when and how it would happen. In all the scenarios that had popped into his head, he never once envisioned his brother's miko to be the one to deliver it. But, now that they had come to this, he truthfully could not imagine anyone else he would ask to end his life.

"Yes, I do," his raspy voice replied.

She pulled the blade just slightly away from his flesh to gain some driving power. Their eyes met and locked. His gaze was unwavering; hers was filled with determination. She sucked in a sharp breath and made her move to plunge the blade into him.

He could feel the cold of the metal before it touched him. Just before the tip of the blade sank deep enough to break skin, something small — red and glistening — flew by and hit the metal hard enough to knock the knife out of her hand.

They both froze for a few seconds, not quite comprehending what had just happened. It had been too fast for even his eyes to catch in its entirety. She moved quickly to fetch the knife and returned it to the juncture between his neck and his jaw, only to have the same thing happened all over again.

The knife was hurtled far this time. She let out a suppressed scream of frustration.

Almost all at once, they felt the ground shook beneath them, a phenomenon uncannily similar to what happened before, which meant only one thing: more spiders were coming.

They were out of time.

He struggled to get himself up. He knew he could not move, but neither could he leave her be — unprotected and fighting alone. A sharp, debilitating pain in his chest told him he had truly punctured his heart. Liquid filled his mouth and he vomited more blood. His hand shook with effort as it took hold of Bakusaiga. The blade sizzled before it died down. There was not enough yōki to activate its power.

He fell back to his knees. "Miko," he rasped. "You need… to leave. These creatures… they are attracted to my… grief. Stay away—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Sesshōmaru! There's no way I'm going to stand aside and watch them eat you alive." She shouted angrily at him, even when her eyes filled up with tears again. She swiped at them ruthlessly with the heel of her palm. "I will never leave you."

… …

I will never leave you.

Those words echoed, the present intermingling with the past, lacing hands, as darkness seized his consciousness and push him down, down into the past. He tried to hold on to the present, to the miko's voice calling his name, but the pull of Grief was undeniable.

'I will never leave you, young master,' Chikatani had said the same.

That awful day, he and Chikatani sat on the beach for a long time. Not one word was uttered between them, they were simply content to listen to the sounds of the ocean and the seagulls. Chikatani's tears had dried at some point as they watched the dusk turned to night. The moon was already high when Chikatani took his hand and led him back towards the palace he despised so much. Even without words spoken, they both knew they had nowhere else to go. It was then, somewhere along that walk back, something inside him splintered and broke apart.

As much as he tried to contain it, a big, ugly sob was wrenched out of him. Before he knew it, he had his arms wrapped around Chikatani's waist, sobbing uncontrollably as he pressed his forehead against Chikatani's lower back. The tears were unstoppable. Somehow, he had a terrible feeling that his grandfather and Chikatani were going far, far away, to a place where he could not follow.

Chikatani simply held his hand, turned around and knelt in front of him, so their eyes would be at the same level.

"Dry your tears, Waka-sama," he said, smiling as serenely as only Chikatani could and fetched a cloth to wipe the pup's tears away. Then, still smiling, with his hands clasped around Sesshōmaru's upper arms, he uttered that promise he would later break:

"I will never leave you, young master."

… …

Things got from bad to worse, as they usually did. Two days after the incident with Zetsubōmaru, it was announced the king's conditions had declined rapidly, and that his death was imminent. He was not long for this world.

The news plunged Sesshōmaru into a dark abyss. His grandfather had been the most powerful inuyōkai there ever was. A king who had been alive and in good health for four millennia. Somewhere in the furthest recess of his mind, he had harboured a hope that his grandfather would recover eventually. He just never realized how strong that hope was. Now, to have it extinguished, he did not have the strength to accept it.

Running to the king's residence as fast as his legs could carry him, he ignored Chikatani's calls behind him. He would have run until he reached his grandfather's bedside, but he was stopped as soon as he reached the foot of the stone steps that led to the massive gates of the king's quarters. The palace guards crossed their spears and informed him, in their usual toneless voice, that absolutely no one was permitted to enter the king's residence.

He refused to leave. He lowered himself to his knees on the stone pavement, intent to wait until he was permitted to see his grandfather. Chikatani rushed to his side and pleaded him to return to his rooms, but he refused to budge. He did not know what he could achieve by insisting to remain on his knees, but he had to do something, even it meant he had to beg for it.

On the second day, his uncle Zetsubōmaru came out to see him. He was still on his knees; legs numb now from hours of remaining in the same position on a hard stone surface.

"What are you doing, exactly, nephew?" He asked. "You have been informed repeatedly that the king is not to be disturbed."

The rules of the court forbid those of lower stature to stare directly into the crown prince's eyes, and Sesshōmaru had always abide by them. This time, however, he defied it, slowly lifting his head to beseech the prince.

"Kōtaishi," he said, voice slightly quivering. "Please. Let me see my grandfather, just once."

Please let me see the one who loves me. One last time.

"You have been a burden to him since the moment you were born," Zetsubōmaru stated coldly, hands clasped behind his back as he watched with his dispassionate golden eyes. "Even now, you insist on leaving him no peace during his final moments before he draws his last breath. Mongrel, does your audacity know no bounds?"

Even when no permission was given, Sesshōmaru remained on his knees. He remained on his knees for three whole days as the king held on to the last strings of life, despite Chikatani's many urgings to get him off the stone pavements. He was still on his knees when the bell — that bell which marked the passing of the king and had been since generations before — tolled.

The king was dead. His grandfather was dead.

He felt the weight of realization as though it was physical, dropping onto his back and shoulders until he fell forward. His face would have hit the stone pavement had his hands not instinctively braced himself.

How could that be? He had not even had the chance to say goodbye.

There was not a moment to grieve, because someone – his uncle Zetsubōmaru – grabbed him roughly by the scruff of his neck and he was forcefully pulled onto his feet. Everything happened so fast, his senses struggled to keep up. He was dragged along corridors, and the next thing he knew, he was thrown onto the floor inside a room. When he looked around, his heart froze with fear. He was back in Zetsubōmaru's room.

Chikatani, as faithful as he had always been, chased after them. His face paled when he saw Zetsubōmaru, their new king, had his young master trapped on the floor by the nape.

"No! My King, I beg you—"

Still on the ground with his torso pressed against the tatami mat, Sesshōmaru watched in horror as Zetsubōmaru threw Chikatani on the floor and held him down beneath one booted foot. Their eyes met for one moment that seemed to stretch forever. Sesshōmaru's mouth parted to tell Chikatani: run, run away! But, useless, he could not do even that.

Wordlessly, and so casually — as though he was merely stabbing a knife into a tender piece of meat at mealtime — Zetsubōmaru plunged his sword into Chikatani's nape, skewering him through the neck.

Chikatani made a short sound when the blade pierced him. Then, it was silence after, as his blood spilled from the slit on his throat and the life slowly drained from his eyes. And at that moment, that terrible moment as he witnessed Chikatani's soul left the body, Sesshōmaru realized: they were nothing to Zetsubōmaru. Nothing at all.

Zetsubōmaru calmly pulled the sword out of Chikatani's neck. Blood splattered on the scrolls on the wall several times before he deemed the blade clean enough to be returned into its sheath. Evidence of Chikatani's life and death scattered all over the walls and floor. Slowly, gradually, the stream of blood became a pool, until it reached Sesshōmaru's trembling right hand and drenched it.

That hand would remember the warmth of Chikatani's blood for years.

And as Zetsubōmaru returned to hold him down by his nape, his left cheek pressed against the floor, he continued staring into Chikatani's vacant eyes. His corpse was so close, he could touch it if he would just reach out. A morbid laughter tickled his chest at the absurdity and the worthlessness of their lives. They were little more than flies. Gnats. Easily crushed under Zetsubōmaru's thumb.

I will never leave you, young master.

He clenched his teeth as unreasonable anger took hold of his heart, rooting deep.

Chikatani, you liar.

He felt the tugging at his clothing as Zetsubōmaru began to strip him methodically, almost with clinical detachment. Sesshōmaru continued to stare into Chikatani's lifeless eyes, completely past the point of caring, experiencing it all as though it was happening to someone else.

Then, there were footsteps outside. Suddenly, a slim, slight female inuyōkai fully dressed in white stood in the doorway. She flicked a brief glance at Chikatani's bloody corpse on the floor. Her jaded, expressionless mien did not change, as if a macabre sight like this was a daily occurrence for her.

"My King," she said, inclining her head. "You are here toying with this little thing while the entire kingdom prepares for your father's funeral? The court and your ministers are presently awaiting your instructions in the assembly hall. I implore you, go to them at once, so they may have the benefits of your guidance."

There was a long, strained moment as Zetsubōmaru remained motionless on his knees, straddling the young pup lying prone on the floor, subduing him still with a clawed hand at the nape. Then, silently, Zetsubōmaru rose to his feet and slowly approached the female. He stopped in front of her, just before he reached threshold of the door. She raised her chin so their eyes met and held. The exchange, though silent, was charged with tension. Clawed fingers flexing, he raised his hand. For a second it appeared he might strike her. Then, with his thumb, he swiped the curve of her lower lip in a gesture that was jarringly tender.

Scoffing softly, he left the room.

Sesshōmaru, still shaking and reeling from the narrow escape, lifted his head and met the eyes of his unexpected saviour: Zetsubōmaru's mate, Princess Hinamori. She was now Queen, he supposed. The female's bosom rose and fell with rapid, quivering breaths before she composed herself. She flinched imperceptibly as their gaze locked. They had never spoken a word to each other before. To him, she had always appeared so haughty and unapproachable. And to her, he had just been a lowly half-blood child, too far beneath her notice. Beautiful and cold, she resembled a stone statue more than flesh and blood.

Returning to his senses, he found he was still fully dressed, somewhat. Slowly, under the Queen's watchful gaze, he raised himself onto his elbow and then onto his knees, nearly slipping on Chikatani's puddle of blood in the process.

She extended one pale hand and opened the screen door wider, revealing one of her maids who stood by, waiting.

"Leave now and never return," the Queen said, staring down at him. Those were the only five words she said to him, ever.

As though it had been part of a plan, her maid quickly dragged him by the collar of his clothing. He was pulled from the room and out into the corridor, out into the courtyard, and onwards onto the beach. As he was dragged along the shores like a sack of grains, his two-headed dragon pet sensed him and came out from its hiding place, chasing after him. Sesshōmaru opened his arms, and the dragon leaped right into them, nestling against his shoulders. Hastily, he hid it under the outer layer of his clothing, hoping no one would find it and take it away.

The maid shoved him into a small boat heading for a ship that was mooring not far from the water's edge. There, he was brought on board without any explanation and placed on an open deck at the back of the ship. As though in sympathy, dragon rubbed its heads against his neck and he tightened his hold, his eyes staring at the outline of the palace beyond the shore.

The sun moved across the sky. It was a while before he shifted, and it was only to look down upon himself, at the right sleeve of his clothing and his right hand that were caked in Chikatani's blood. The sounds of bells ringing had his eyes returning to the sight of the palace. There, as he stood alone on the rear deck, the two-headed dragon cradled safely against his chest, he saw white smoke rising from the palace courtyard.

His grandfather's funeral.

He dropped to his knees. The tears came unbidden. He lowered his head, chin to the chest, as his teardrop after teardrop fell onto the deck, suppressed sobs breaking the silence. The dragon shifted, stretching its necks, cooing as though to give him comfort as it licked his tears from his cheeks.

Afterwards, time seemed to have lost its meaning. The ship eventually sailed. He did not know how long the journey was. After all the tears had been shed, he sat at the same spot where they had left him, motionless, simply staring at the ocean, knowing he was taken further and further away from the only home he had ever known. Plucked away from the sandy soil of the Southern Isles and about to be transplanted onto a new land.

At some point, as they neared the shores of the western lands, someone did come to get him cleaned up and changed into a new set of clothes. He remembered staring at those clothes, thinking how wrong they looked. He had always dressed in the white and royal blue colours of his grandfather's house. Now, he was to be dressed in white and crimson.

Too late now. His bloodied clothing was peeled from his body and fed into the coal hearth, burned to ashes. Chikatani's dried blood was scrubbed away from his forearm, hand, and fingers, disappearing into a bucket of water, which content then discarded into the ocean.

There was nothing of his old life that remained, other than the two-headed dragon, which they allowed him to keep. Miraculously, no one had tried to rip it away from his arms and throw it back into the sea.

Staring at his hands, now clean and unblemished, he thought of how he had no memento of Chikatani, or his grandfather, at all. In these new clothes, heading towards a new place, it was as though they never existed in his life. If he buried these memories deep, would he be able to stop reminding himself to breathe?

I will never leave you, young master.

He covered his face with his hands. The unbearable pain in his chest had him doubling over as he swallowed the urge to scream.

Later that day, the ship docked on the shores of the western lands.

And in that confused, shaken, tumultuous state of mind, he met his mother and father for the first time.

Somewhere in Asphodel Meadows
Now

Sesshōmaru had fallen unconscious. Kagome was hoping his unconscious state would eliminate the traces of grief, which would in turn drive the critters away. No such luck. They were still advancing.

She had to erect a barrier to protect them somehow.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, Sesshōmaru," she muttered before her head dipped down and she pressed her mouth against his. She forced his lips to part and scooped some of the blood that filled his mouth with her tongue.

She shivered at the immediate effect, at the strength that his blood gave her. Liquid power. Though the blood contained less power now compared to before, as he had reached his breaking point, it still allowed her to fight a little more.

She took a hold of Bakusaiga, expecting the same intense power she had experienced earlier, but nothing emanated from the sword. Flicking a gaze at Sesshōmaru's motionless body, she thought: Is it because he is unconscious? Should she attempt to use Tenseiga or…

Her mind urged her to move quickly. There was no time to linger on an indecision. She placed her palms on the ground and exerted her inner power, creating a dome of barrier that sheltered them both. The spiders crashed against the translucent wall like waves breaking upon the shore, annihilated into little more than ashes as soon as they touched the rosy lavender light.

But the more she killed, the more they came. Soon, the barrier cracked under the weight of thousands of creatures. It would not hold for long. Even now, thousands more were piling in. Kagome clenched her jaws and pressed her palms harder against the ground, willing herself to exert more power. More. More!

The light and the colour of her barrier intensified. Her domed shelter seemed to hold a bit better, though hairline cracks kept appearing throughout, slowly and steadily buckling under the weight of so many critters piled high on top of it. Her strength waned; her arms shook with her efforts to maintain the flow of her power.

Suddenly, she felt a change in the atmosphere. The air was heavy with yōki and was charged with massive amount of electricity. She lifted her head. She could not see anything past the black mass that covered her barrier, but she felt the thrum of power all around her. Once again the earth trembled beneath them, though this felt different from before.

"Kaze no Kizu!"

The deep voice of a male accompanied the thunderous attack that destroyed the mounds of spiders that hovered above her.

Kaze no… Kizu?

The sky opened up, the mist was disappearing. Murky sunlight filtered through the rosy lavender barrier, cracked and about to collapse, but it sheltered them for just enough time for aid to reach them.

And beyond the wall of her translucent barrier, Kagome saw the male figure approaching. She had seen him only once and, even then, it had been through a heavy blanket of mist, but she would recognize him anywhere: Inu no Taisho.

Sesshōmaru and Inuyasha's father.

He was panting, as though he had travelled a great distance at a rapid pace to get to them. He paid her no mind; his golden eyes were fixated solely on Sesshōmaru. He reached out his hand, shattering the barrier under his touch. Stepping in, he bent down to one knee. As if Sesshōmaru weighed nothing, he hauled his son's unconscious body over his shoulder, and finally, turned to regard her.

"Can you walk?" He asked her. Still dazed but understood that time was of the essence, she quickly nodded.

"Good. Grab his swords and follow me."

A/N: This chapter is action-packed. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love it when I started a chapter with a blank slate, not knowing at all what would/should happen, and things just happened. I thought the idea of Kagome killing Sesshomaru and reviving him with Tenseiga is interesting, as it is perhaps the fastest shortcut to his recovery. Though I do wonder what could happen, I'm glad she didn't have to do it. There were definitely some tender moments there, and I enjoy watching them get closer and closer with each obstacle and each extreme situation that they were put through. I also love how Kagome was starting to step up, and I look forward to writing further developments of her power.

Inutaisho finally showed up. The next chapter could be very interesting. Will Sesshomaru's father finally learn something about his son's past? Will they have a father-son conversation which, hopefully, unentangle their strained relationship? A lot of potential angst there :)

Thank you so much for reading! As always, are greatly appreciated and are fundamental to my work. Please drop me a few lines if you have an opportunity. Till next time!