AN: *Is in the middle of a throwdown with her yami* Yes, I killed my main character! I'm the author—I can DO that! Jeez, it's not like every Sesshoumaru obsessee doesn't already know what I'm going to do! For crying out loud . . .
I have a very temperamental Yami. He's rather fond of Kagome . . . but he'd BETTER be more fond of me, because I swear I'll write a Yami/Malik story if he's not! And he'll be on bottom!
The action sequences are pretty bad for awhile, but I like how I wrapped up the Naraku angle. It felt like it flowed better than anything else action-oriented.
Btw, this was an emotionally draining chapter. I cried like the whole time—so sad for me. It feels like my babies are growing up . . . God, you should have seen me with 'The Real Deal.' When Bulma had Trunks, I wailed like I'd had my own kid. Maybe the fact that it's1:45 in the morning has something to do with it. Who knows. All that's left is the epilogue, and that shouldn't take too long. Sooo tired. Soooo sad. Ugh. Replenish my little broken heart with reviews. Don't worry, you find out what happens to Kikyo in the epilogue. I didn't forget about her! (Bet you all wish I had, callous bitch . . .) Definitely not a happy chapter towards the end. Rather depressing. Like I said, I cried--but that's just because I'm the author.
*
Sesshoumaru
Stillness hung over everyone for what seemed like an eternity. I could do nothing to stop Naraku—I was frozen where I stood, though I was trying furiously to release myself from the immobility. I could only watch and listen as Naraku spoke in such casual words the truth of what had happened in the Northern Lands. My eyes, the only part of me that could move, were fixed on Kagome's face the entire time. Perhaps it was a bit of masochism that made me watch, maybe a little more guilt. I deserved to see her pain, and I deserved the hatred that would follow. I had not lied when I told her I did not deserve her kindness.
The worst of it was that she didn't do anything. I kept waiting for her to shove him away and scream at me, slap me or even punch me for being such a bastard, let me know that she hated me. But instead of being angry—furious—her eyes closed and she seemed to deflate. Rather than rage, she seemed like she wanted to do nothing more than cry. I swallowed, cursing my own immobility and only able to look at her in horror. It was like I was watching her heart break through her eyes.
No one expected what happened next. It was almost like it didn't happen, it was so quick and surreal. The sight was burned into my mind. With a quick flick of his wrist, Naraku turned her head to the side—too far to the side. At first I thought he had simply cast her aside, tossed her like a doll that he'd finished with. But she didn't stumble as though she'd lost her balance—she just fell. No arm came up to break the fall, no foot moved to catch her. She collapsed to the ground and was still.
The moment she ceased to move, it was like the world around me exploded into movement. I knew what had happened—I knew almost before it happened, and I could only move once it was too late. I was at her side instantly, the first movement I had been allowed. I completely ignored Inuyasha, whose eyes had come open hazily while Naraku was talking. Now he was totally lucid, if not bleeding from a deep gash on his forehead and deadly pale with horror.
I was the first to move for a very long time, kneeling on the ground and touching Kagome's neck in search of something I would not find. Already her skin was cool to the touch.
Nononononono, I kept on thinking. Not like this, not when that was the last thing she ever heard—this can't happen, it's not happening . . . My hands curled into fists as it sank in finally, but I didn't quite feel the explosive grief like when my father had died. At first, I almost didn't feel it at all.
What I did feel, however, was cool metal against my throat as Inuyasha stumbled to his feet and put the Tetsusaiga against my neck. I half-heartedly wondered if he was going to slit my throat intentionally or on accident, his hand shook so badly.
"Get away from her," he managed to growl.
"Be silent," I found myself saying. Talking had not been one of my top priorities.
"I said get away! Tell me he's lying," he snarled, an odd note in his voice. He sounded . . .
I remained very still. "What?"
"Tell me that Naraku is full of shit. Tell me that you didn't really do what he said you did. Don't tell me you're honestly THAT GODDAMN STUPID! Did it ever occur to you what would happen to her if you did that?" he demanded, rage rising in his voice.
"I did," I said thickly. "Did you know what happened that night? What really happened?"
"I don't care!" he exploded, almost sending my head rolling accidentally. "I don't," he repeated, quieter now. "When this is over . . . I will kill you. As soon as I gut Naraku like a fish."
The sound of an arrow being notched. "You will not," came Kikyo's voice. Her eyes were cold as she glared at my brother, her former lover and now the one she fought so desperately to destroy completely. "I told this man I would aide him in his completion of the jewel I protected for so long, and I will do so."
"You double-crossing fucking whore!" he raged. "She trusted you!"
"And she was the stupider for it," came the cool reply.
"You're next!" he exploded.
"Your wish list is getting long," the priestess threw back.
"How could you help him?" Inuyasha demanded furiously. "He's the reason all this happened—he's the reason we happened, you heard him say it yourself!"
"Perhaps," she replied, "but when a love so great as ours was destroyed by a simple trick here and there, perhaps our love was not truly so great."
"After this, I'm damn glad it wasn't!"
"She was a fool to ever love you or your brother," Kikyo practically spat, probably cut deeply by the casual dismissal of a hatred that seemed to fuel her. "You both brought her only pain—I did her a favor by allowing Naraku to end her pathetic, shallow life. I do not think fools such as yourselves will pursue her now, while she is trapped forever in Hell!"
And then the monk finally did something worth consideration—unfrozen now, he helped the demon exterminator to her feet, then stormed over to the dead priestess and slammed his rod into the back of her head so hard that I thought the pole would snap. Eerily undeterred by the blow, she spun with the bow and arrow to run him through, but he swung again and knocked the weapon from her hands. Then, with an amazing disregard for gender, especially from a monk, he threw the rod down and hit her close-fisted in the face so hard I was surprised his hand hadn't broken. She stumbled once before hitting her knees in a daze, a hand to her face. Inuyasha gave the man a look of gratitude, but in his face one could already see pain consuming him.
I released Kagome from my grip, afraid for one foolish moment that I was hurting her from holding on so hard, then drew my sword and stood by Inuyasha. "I have made mistakes," I growled at him, "but I will make up for them."
"Get the hell out of my face," he snarled. "I'm doing this alone. All you'll do is mess me up and get yourself killed."
"I will fight, whether I am killed or not. Should the former happen, then I will most certainly not bother you again," I replied grimly.
Two tendrils of miasma snaked out from Naraku, who now stood in a pool of it, and wrapped almost instantly around our wrists. I let out an exclamation of pain as the substance itself burned into my skin, marring the flesh and surprising me so badly that I dropped my sword out of reflex. The arm of miasma snaked up to wrap around my waist, then slithered further up to wrap around my neck.
"Fools," Naraku hissed. "Will you try to avenge her death by rushing at me like children? Will taking the easy way out be enough? I am not the one who just lost their love, remember. Have you so quickly let grief addle your brains? I assumed that you had learned from experience—mistakes like that get you killed." The miasma coiled tighter, cutting into my windpipe, and I gasped for breath as my fingers dug into the offending cloud.
Inuyasha was not so quick to drop his sword. With a quick slash, he had severed the miasma as it came to him, barely touching it with his skin and standing with both hands on his sword. He still trembled so badly that the sword wavered back and forth. "Then bring it on," he snarled.
As though obeying his brash words, the branching poison shot clear around him and snagged him from behind, wrapping around him as it had me and encompassing him like a rope.
"This has been a pitiful game," Naraku sighed. "I did enjoy it from time to time, and the ends have quite justified the means, but I am finished with you. Your jewel shards, please."
"Rot in hell!"
"At one time or another, I'm sure I've been there, but I really have no desire to go back," Naraku told him. "I suppose you won't be handing them over?"
"Not on your life or mine!"
The demon raised a hand in the air dramatically and snapped his fingers. Inuyasha let out a cry of pain as the miasma tightened around him, popping bones that I'm sure should not have been popped, and four small pinpoints of light appeared in the breast of his shirt. Slowly, the glow increased, and with a small pop!, the jewel shards ripped from his shirt and fell neatly into Naraku's outstretched hand, just as the shard from my arm had done. Eyes wide with horror, Inuyasha and I both stared as Naraku brought the nearly-completed jewel into view, dangling on a chain hidden by his hair. He held the shards close to the large jewel, and there was an audible tremble in the ground as both the shards and the jewel lifted from his hand. The miasma vanished from both myself and Inuyasha, dropping us to the ground like stones as Naraku's attentions shifted in fascination to the jewel.
The ground shook even harder.
This was bad.
*
Inuyasha
My heart hurt. It literally felt like someone had taken a burning sword and rammed it right through me unceremoniously. The miasma wasn't helping, either. I think I was convinced I was going to die, because my life flashed before my eyes. I really needed to shape up.
I had been horrible to Kagome. I'd never once been kind, or caring—the only times I could get over myself enough was when it benefited me. When she tried to express to me how she felt, back in the beginning, all I could think about was Kikyo. I was stupid. And now, in every way imaginable, I had lost her forever.
This was bullshit.
It was even worse than bullshit when I realized what was going on. Miroku had knelt down beside Sango and was shielding her protectively—from what, I didn't know. It was just the ground shaking. I guess it was what made the ground shake that made him get very protective. Beside me, Sesshoumaru was coughing up his lungs and trying unsuccessfully to push himself up. Kikyo seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness from the blows dealt to her by Miroku. And above all that, Naraku towered over us all, watching as the jewel began to glow so brightly that we were all engulfed in light.
The earth shook harder beneath us, and what little grasp Sesshoumaru and I had on getting to our feet vanished as we hit the shaking ground. I couldn't peel my eyes from the jewel as I saw the pinpoints of light that had been jewel shards slowly combine with the larger piece of the jewel. Once they had merged, there was a crack of thunder in the clear sky, and in a mighty explosion of blinding brightness, a wave of pure energy ripped out from the jewel and bowled everyone over.
"No," I whispered in horror. The Jewel was complete.
And we weren't the ones who'd done it.
*
Sesshoumaru
Gradually, the trembling ground and bright light subsided, and in its wake it left very disheveled shard seekers. I raised my eyes to the completed Shikkon Jewel—it was really a very lovely jewel. I could understand why so many had desired to complete it.
The tiny Jewel dropped into Naraku's hands, and he recoiled as though it were heavy and hot to the touch. His eyes were dark with triumph, and he grasped it in his hand as his body began to tremble. He was using it to become a full demon, I remembered suddenly.
SHIT. That summed it up nicely.
He was deadly enough as a half-demon . . . I did not want to know how deadly he was as a full demon, but I do have rather rotten luck, and I suspected I was going to find out anyways. I didn't suspect that I would die—I happen to be the owner of a faithful sword that would not allow such a thing to happen. While I do tend to despise the Tenseiga, it has come in handy before.
. . .
I was missing something. Why think of that damned sword now?
. . .
The mental revolution I had right then was so psychologically violent that I couldn't believe myself. You absolute fucking moron! Stupid, stupid, STUPID! WHY DIDN'T THIS OCCUR TO YOU EARLIER?! GODS ABOVE, YOU FOOL!
How did I miss it?! HOW!
Above us, Naraku had seemed to go catatonic as the hand holding the jewel convulsed violently. Exposed muscles were growing hard, tensing and growing large, and the Jewel in his hand began to glow again, shining out between his clenched fingers. He hit his knees, letting out a cry of what could have been pain as his back bowed under what could only be intense physical pressure caused by transforming into a true demon. He seemed to be in great pain—which meant his attention was elsewhere.
I grabbed Inuyasha by the collar of his kimono. "Keep him distracted," I growled.
"He is distracted!" he snapped in a low voice.
"Make sure he stays that way!" I threw back, slipping away.
"What in—what the fuck are you doing?" he hissed angrily.
"Something right," I told him grimly, sliding the Tenseiga out of its sheath. A few yards away, I could see the monk's eyes go wide with realization as I crawled over to where Kagome lay. She looked so peaceful—well, in the sense that she no longer had worries on her mind. The expression burned onto her face was one of surprise, pain, and sadness, rather than peaceful. Given what Naraku had told her before he killed her, it was not surprising at all. I felt a twist of guilt, such a foreign emotion for a demon. But I was no longer a demon, and so guilt seemed to be all I felt lately. Perhaps it was my conscience.
Sword in hand, I saw with the same surprise as always the little bastards scurrying across her body, greedy for her soul in death, and remembered what had happened when I revived Rin. Gripping the hilt tightly, I swung once with sudden pent-up pain, anger—fury, really—all the things that had swarmed me when I realized she was dead.
It felt vaguely like I had thrown the sword, I sliced so sharply and violently. It was as though I had lost control of it—and the minute I slashed through the last of the creatures splayed across her body, something very large and unfamiliar swung down with the sword. I do not know what it was, but it did . . . something. This was different from when I brought Rin back from death—it was bigger. Perhaps it was because I knew the one who needed reviving. It was personal—the loss had hurt. For a brief instant, it felt like I swung my soul down at the girl rather than a sword, spearing her with emotions that I didn't understand or necessarily like as though they were a weapon.
There was a flash of light, not unlike the light from the Jewel that Naraku now possessed, and when the creatures dissipated from her, I collapsed to the ground, dropping the sword in surprise. This is very different from reviving Rin, I thought distantly as I hit the ground. I was . . . drained. I had very little left. Using the Tenseiga wasn't supposed to do that . . .
The only thing I really heard was a piercing scream—right in my ear, actually. And I hadn't screamed.
My eyes turned from the dirt to the human beside me, and I watched in exhaustion as Kagome opened her mouth again and sucked air into her deprived lungs. A little strength returned to me as I did the only thing that seemed right at that moment, before apologizing, before getting up, before killing Naraku. I pushed myself up a little bit and moved over to her, reaching out and kissing her as though I wouldn't live to see the next day.
*
Kagome
Something hurt. Something hurt a lot. Maybe it was my heart . . . who knew? The last thing I remembered was Naraku telling me . . .
No. Don't think about it.
He killed me. He'd broken my neck—hadn't he? How was I still here?
Then it clicked in my brain that . . . erm, someone was kissing me. My eyes flew open, and then something in my head began screaming. No! Don't let him, it's him, oh Gods above, he'll do it again . . . I stiffened in horror, and golden eyes opened to fix on me as the figure pulled away. No, it's just Sesshoumaru, I thought in confusion, but the voice was still panicking. Oh, he knows, he remembers, get away from him!
And then silence. The panic subsided as though it had never been there, and I almost jumped on him. Almost. Right behind the realization that it was him was that voice—those words.
On the night of your stay, he was so easily seduced by her that it was rather embarrassing . . .
He went right from your bed to hers . . .
She certainly knows how to get what she wants . . . several times, in fact . . .
No. Oh, please tell me that was just a dream . . . I just hallucinated it, didn't I?
I looked up at Sesshoumaru, pain beginning to overwhelm the euphoria of being alive. "He was telling the truth, wasn't he?" I asked sadly.
His golden eyes went wide. "Kagome—" His tone of voice, shocked and full of self-loathing, was the answer I needed.
I rolled away from him suddenly, turning my face to keep him from seeing the crying fit I was about to have. I strongly suspected I couldn't stop it once I started, and I felt a blast of fear at breaking down right in front of everyone. Already tears were beginning to sear my eyes, and I was only moments from hitting my knees as a sob welled up in my throat.
Naraku's voice stopped me cold. "You must be joking," he chuckled. I turned on my heel to look at him, but rather than the fear that had gripped me around him ever since he had taken me, I felt a wave of calm envelope me. It was . . . alien, to say the least.
His body shook with what seemed to be subsiding tremors, and I saw with alarm the Shikkon Jewel, complete and clenched in his hand. He certainly looked different—he had always seemed to carry with him the sickness that had ailed his human body, even once he was rejuvenated with the bodies of all the demons from the mountain and the miasma, etc., but now he looked—well, utterly indestructible. His exposed chest was defined with muscles that he'd lacked before—the toned, flawless body of a true demon. Great.
Naraku took a deep breath, and the tremors stopped immediately. His crimson eyes fixed on me coldly, and a self-satisfied smirk crossed his face. "I didn't expect to see you again," he told me lightly. "You look positively deathly. So pale . . . it's really rather disturbing."
"Shut up," I snapped, swallowing the sob. My pity-party was going to have to wait—I had bigger problems right then.
Inuyasha, struggling to his feet, fixed his deep gold eyes on me, and they shone unnaturally. "Kagome?" he asked, his voice cracking. I swallowed hard—was he—
"Hi," I said weakly, wishing I could run to him right then. But I didn't. His mouth was set in a grim line, and the look on his face was hesitant. His eyes darted back at Naraku once, as though asking me a question. Do it, or don't do it? he seemed to ask me.
I gave him the faintest nod.
With a roar, he spun around, the Tetsusaiga blazing as he turned to Naraku. "Bastard!" he snarled, bringing the sword down. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the fight as I began to chant in a dead tongue.
'Gods above and below, hear my call,
Take he of unclean spirit and vanquish his soul
Take the human in him and free him of his bonds
Banish in him the poison of the devils . . .'
Roughly translated, anyways.
I opened my eyes once my mind was on the right track and watched impassively. The sword sliced through Naraku cleanly, but the red mark left behind on his body vanished as though it were erased. Naraku let out a growl and grabbed the wrist that held the sword. "I'm sure you know the drill," he growled. "Drop it, or drop your hand. I assure you, once your hand has been utterly burned off, you will die of blood poisoning."
A moment's hesitation, and the sword hit the ground, but not before Inuyasha jammed his hand straight through Naraku's stomach, much in the fashion of his fight with Sesshoumaru so long ago.
Sesshoumaru . . .
Don't think about it.
' . . .Take the winds of the North
The storms of the South
The fires of the East
And the blood of the South
And take his demons . . .'
"Eat shit and die!" Inuyasha raged, one wrist captured in Naraku's searing grip and the other sticking out beside his spine.
Naraku gave him a chilling grin. "If you insist." He took hold of Inuyasha's offending hand and gently dislodged it from his stomach, and the hole vanished almost instantly. Inuyasha swore selectively, grinding his teeth as his other wrist was taken as well and put through the same punishment as the first. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and hit the ground on his back, as though crippled by the pain, but then his feet popped up and drove right into Naraku's groin. The demon doubled over, and swallowing the pain he must have been feeling, Inuyasha twisted his hands so that they gripped Naraku's wrists as well and flipped him over onto his back. Taking advantage of Naraku's surprise, Inuyasha freed his wrists and proceeded to become absolutely lethal. Ignoring the sword that lay waiting to be picked up, he hauled Naraku up to his knees and began to beat the hell out of him with his bare hands. Naraku seemed to be doing a bit worse as a demon than he had before—although Inuyasha hadn't quite been so out-of-control earlier.
'Cleanse the mind
Heal the body
Remove the evil . . .'
Sesshoumaru pushed himself to his feet beside me, watching me as I recited words in a language he probably hadn't heard before, golden eyes unreadable. "Don't answer me. Finish the spell. But . . ." he clenched his jaw and spoke through his teeth. "I regret what happened with Saeko. For all the worlds, if I were given another option, I would never do it again. But put in that situation, under those circumstances, and with the pre-ordained conditions . . . I would do exactly what I have already done. Given a choice between myself and the other person in the equation, there was no other option."
My voice hitched, and I turned to look at him. My face clearly said 'please don't.' Actually, I think it said 'if you say anything else, I'm warning you, I'll cry and scream and hit you, then pass out, and where would we be then?', but I didn't actually mean to give him such a broken-hearted look. It just sort of happened.
He recoiled slightly. "You don't understand," he muttered. "You just don't."
Whatever.
Understand or no, that didn't change the fact that I wanted to cry.
Over on the violence end of the scale, the tables had turned on Inuyasha when Naraku had kicked him in the stomach, following up with an old-fashioned punch in the face. "Stupid halfling!" he snapped, knocking Inuyasha to the ground and virtually tackling him. "You can't win! You couldn't win even before I possessed the Jewel! What makes you think that you even have a chance?"
Inuyasha wiped a bit of blood from his mouth and gave Naraku a disturbing grin. "The fact that Kagome is still casting an exorcism spell over there. And the fact that she's almost done."
The blow that Naraku dealt Inuyasha was a bit more than devastating. It was actually vicious enough to make me think with terror that Inuyasha was dead. But his eyes opened slowly, dazed and unfocused, but open. He was alive . . . if only a little bit between awake and unconscious.
'Cast out his demons
Unleash his soul . . ."
"Stupid girl!" Naraku exploded, stalking across the meager distance to strike me. He was intercepted by Sesshoumaru, who had sheathed the Tenseiga and now held his other sword before him.
"Don't touch her," he growled in a very calm voice. Could you be calm and still growl? I didn't know . . . but it's what he did.
"Don't make me kill you, Lord Sesshoumaru," Naraku warned him. "You made a very fine ally long ago. I would hate to waste you when we still have such potential."
"There is no potential for anything between us!" Sesshoumaru practically spat, lunging at Naraku with his sword. But Sesshoumaru was only a human right then; he didn't even stand a chance. I could have thumped him for even thinking of it. Naraku batted him away as though he were an insignificant obstacle and closed in on me.
But just barely too late.
Had it been any other time, I would have been screwed. But the words that I'd struggled with so greatly before seemed to roll off my tongue like water now, as though I'd known them all along. I couldn't even understand myself, I was speaking so quickly. Maybe it was an upside to being dead.
'Hear my words
Heed my cry
Give me the power to cleanse his soul
Expel his demons
And RETURN HIM HIS HUMANITY!"
It sounded much better in its original language—it actually rhymed. In my own native tongue, it was a bit silly-sounding with a serious I-hail-to-the-guardians-of-the-watchtowers-of-the-north-type thing from The Craft going, but it did the trick.
Naraku, of course, had no idea what I'd just practically screamed at him, so he didn't falter as he strode up and backhanded me. I tumbled to the ground, but not before I saw him freeze in his tracks as though someone had hit him. "What in the—"
I sucked on my teeth, tasting blood, and pushed myself to my feet carefully. "That," I declared calmly, "would be me kicking your ASS, you son of a bitch."
Inuyasha's head lolled to the side so that he could see what was going on—or to watch Naraku flip out, I still don't know. Probably both. Naraku stumbled clenching the Jewel that he wore on a chain around his neck—my chain, the bastard. "It's not possible!" he exclaimed, reaching out to grab me by my shirt. "Your spell only worked if I was a half-demon!"
"No," I told him coldly, trying to dislodge myself from his grasp, "it works on anything of demon nature. Moron. What the spell does is separate the demon from the soul—and that works nicely for me, because your soul used to be human. What happens now, you may wonder? Well the pain you're no doubt feeling is the pain of having half of your soul forcibly extracted from your body—which is far more painful than anything you've ever done to me—and after that, you're fair game, babe." I practically spat the words. "You can fight it, if you want—I assume you already are—but eventually, one way or another, I'll win."
"Not before I kill you again," he snarled, throwing me back to the ground and kicking me in the side so hard that I doubled over.
"Sesshoumaru will just revive me," I coughed.
"But I'll still have the satisfaction of knowing I am strong enough to destroy you twice over!" he snapped. At the shift in attention, though, he doubled over as well, and this time he fell onto me. I let out a cry under the sudden weight, but no sooner had he dropped on me than he was up again—and not of his own accord this time.
Naraku was lifted high into the air, finally losing against the force of the spell I'd cast, and his fists curled against his temples, as though trying to keep his head from exploding. "It—it can't be—" he hissed through gritted teeth.
And then he began to glow. The Jewel dropped to the ground, and it became very difficult to really see him. His body began to blur against the light that came from his chest, and then . . .
'Explosion' is really the only word that covers it. From his body came an explosion of demons—snakes, dragons, generally evil spirits, you name it. Almost as though a dam had broken, they all came pouring out of him in all directions, tens upon hundreds, then hundreds upon thousands, until the air was positively clogged. I picked myself up and hauled it away from the outburst of evil, especially when one rather unfriendly and hungry-looking demon got a look at me. More and more, unceasing as they were ripped from him, the screams of thousands of vengeful demons not overriding Naraku's scream.
"Everybody get behind me!" I heard someone shout. "Oh—dammit, follow my voice!"
Huh. I'd totally forgotten about Miroku . . .
An arm shot out and took hold of me, and I turned to see Sesshoumaru dragging me through the sea of demons. They all parted like water before him, probably recognizing him and not aware that he was human, and he dragged me to where Miroku was shouting. Inuyasha had crawled over as well, barely conscious.
"Where's Kikyo?" he asked thickly.
Sango's eyes widened. "Inuyasha!"
"Where is she?" he demanded again, borderline passing-out.
"I—I don't know," Miroku practically hollered over the mayhem. "Should I wait?"
"Let her die!" Inuyasha coughed, blood coming up this time. "Just do it!"
Miroku nodded and ripped the rosary from his hand. "Wind tunnel!" he roared, extending his hand.
I never did get used to that thing, I decided as I watched every demon that had come or was still coming from Naraku disappear into his hand. He almost stumbled backwards under the onslaught—I don't think I'd ever seen him take in so many demons at once. Well if this worked, he'd never have to worry about the wind tunnel getting bigger again.
"Sango—" he began, knees beginning to buckle under the strain.
"Everyone, help him!" I hollered. Sesshoumaru, Sango and I all stepped up and went back-to-back with Miroku, supporting him. I felt him sigh and go slack against us, and for a moment I almost panicked at the thought that he'd passed out., but his arm was still out, and it seemed he was just taking a break. I felt my feet dig into the soft soil as the demons were sucked into his wind tunnel and made him lose ground against the pressure.
And then, after what could have been an eternity, it stopped very suddenly. So suddenly, in fact, that we all went flying forwards as our combined strength bowled us over. Miroku landed on the bottom, and I felt sorry for him . . . till I realized with chagrin where his hand was, and popped him on the back of the head. "Hands off," I warned. "It's not over yet."
Sango's eyes were transfixed on the spot Naraku had been. "Yes it is," she said softly.
My gaze followed hers, and I felt shock overwhelm me. "Oh my—"
It wasn't Naraku knelt over in the middle of the now-naked landscape. I couldn't even recognize it as a man at first—but it was. It wasn't the handsome, cold, and powerful demon who was curled up there—it was just a human. In fact, it was the human who had created Naraku to cure his own weakness and mortality.
I helped Inuyasha to his feet, and we walked together slowly to the man left behind by the spell. Cold eyes fixed on me from the ruined face of a man covered in burns all over. I balked suddenly. "Are—are you Onegumo?" I asked nervously, suddenly afraid of what was before me.
"Does it matter?" He had the same deep, rich voice as Naraku. Such an odd noise coming from a man like him.
"You really are just a wreck of a man," Inuyasha said slowly, looking a little dizzy still. "Kikyo had told me once—how could someone like you turn into what you did?"
"Hatred of you!" the man spat, his whole body trembling. From what I'd heard from Kaede, it was amazing that he was even alive now. "You and Kikyo alike! You were both fools . . . you never deserved her . . ."
"So that was why," Inuyasha murmured. I remained silent—it was his life ruined by Onegumo, not mine. I didn't have a dog in this fight anymore. "I always wondered if it was for Kikyo. Guess even the best of us can be fooled."
"She . . . she never should have . . ." he began to cough, and I heard a rattle in his lungs that scared the hell out of me. He was dying—not slowly, the way he had been when Kikyo found him, but really dying. As in taking his last breaths. But what should I have expected? For Naraku to stand up, free of demons, and be strong enough for Inuyasha to think he needed to use the wind scar and wipe him out entirely? Onegumo was doing that on his own. He had been dying fifty years ago—he would certainly be dead by nighttime.
If that.
I knelt beside him as he lay down slowly, probably to ease himself of the pain he was feeling. "There are medicines I can get you," I said uncertainly, the urge to cry returning in leaps and bounds. "They won't heal you, but I can take the pain away for now." He was so wretched—I couldn't just leave him to die like that. Miroku could live a little longer with the wind tunnel, and Sesshoumaru could learn to like being human. I didn't want him to suffer—for all that he'd allowed to happen by invoking all those demons into him, I couldn't stand by and let him suffer.
"Get away from me!" he snarled, striking out blindly. I suspected he was blind, his eyes were so dim. "I can't die . . . not so long as I have it . . ."
I stared at him blankly. "What?"
"It really is a curse," he chuckled, and I heard fluid rattle in his lungs. "Beautiful when tainted by evil . . . but it will keep me alive as long as I have it, I'll suffer for eternity while I bear it . . ."
The Jewel. I glanced at Inuyasha. "Should we?" I asked, my voice shaking.
He seemed tormented. "After all he's done . . . all the lives he's ruined. I ought to let him keep it and live forever like this."
I stared at him in horror. "Inuyasha—"
"But no one deserves that," he cut me off. "I wouldn't sink to his level if my life depended on it. Even after what you did to me and Kikyo," he told the man, "I won't give you the satisfaction of knowing I didn't kill you."
"Bastard," Onegumo chuckled weakly. "I always knew you had it in you."
I felt a chill race down my spine as Inuyasha glared. "You realize what you've done to everyone, don't you? How much I'm going to enjoy doing this?"
"I'm sure I do."
"Good," Inuyasha spat, then leaned down and ripped the Jewel from Onegumo's neck by the chain, clutching it in his shaking hand. The dying thief didn't even get to say anything to him—thank him or possibly curse him. He was dead by the time Inuyasha had straightened himself and held the Jewel so tightly that his nails drew blood from his palm. "You know what the funny thing is?" he asked me, eyes dull as he stared down at the man who had single-handedly destroyed his life. "I didn't enjoy that at all." He tossed the Jewel to me, then turned and walked off without looking back. I didn't know where he went—I don't think he wanted me to know.
I turned to look at the group we'd left behind when we went to deal with Onegumo. They were picking themselves up carefully—but I saw the differences already. I walked over to them, taking notice of the marks that were beginning to appear on Sesshoumaru's face and the way his demon beauty began returning to him, making him flawless once again. The cuts and abrasions that had marred him before faded.
Beside me, Miroku was looking suspiciously at his hand. "I almost don't want to take it off," he said slowly.
I pushed hair out of my face. "Why?"
He hesitated, eyes raising to mine. "I . . . I'm almost afraid that when I remove the glove, it will still be there. That somehow, as his last curse, I'll still be trapped with it even when he has gone."
I shook my head, the tears still standing in my eyes defiantly, waiting patiently for me to release them. "It's up to you. You don't have to be afraid of him anymore—he's dead. Don't give him that."
"But the ultimate joke," Miroku said dryly, "is that I'm taking his word on this. I'm going by what he said to determine the rest of my life."
I sighed heavily, drained emotionally and physically. "Tell me the outcome, one way or another. I want to go home."
Sango caught me before I walked away. "You'll be staying a little longer, won't you?" she asked hopefully.
I almost cried. She had lost so much—all she needed was to lose another friend. "I can't," I said, my chin trembling. "I just can't. It's been too long. This time is killing me."
Miroku took my hand in his right one—free of the rosary and glove. I wanted to cry some more. "It's up to you," he told me, a faint smile showing both the dawning realization that he had the rest of his life before him and the fact that he didn't really want me to leave, either.
I nodded. "I know. That's why I have to go."
I didn't even look at Sesshoumaru.
*
Later that evening
I was on my final good-byes. I had bid farewell to Shippou and Kaede earlier, because I didn't want Shippou to see me cry. He didn't need that—he was hurt enough already.
Sango grabbed me in a crushing hug, mindful of cuts and bruises that I hadn't let Kaede heal. "Be good to Souta," she told me in a trembling voice.
I nodded. "Don't worry about it."
Miroku gave me his charming smile once again. "Do I get a good-bye kiss?" he asked, oozing charisma.
I shook my head helplessly. "You just don't give up, do you?"
He shrugged. "Guess not. At least tell me that Sango gets a good-bye kiss . . ."
I stared. "You are the original pervert," I laughed.
"I tried," he sighed. "I would have kissed Inuyasha if you'd asked," he added, as though letting me know I could do him at least one more favor.
" . . . Hey, say that to my face," Inuyasha snapped.
"Say what?" asked Miroku innocently.
"Perv," he muttered.
"For future reference," I told the monk, "compliments are more savory to women than come-ons. Try it sometime."
He seemed to think it over. "I compliment women."
"Yeah, but then you ask them to have your children. Bit of a turn-off on the first date."
"So I should wait."
"Preferably. And you'd live long enough to get the chance if you would get your hand off my ass," I added warningly.
He bowed. "I'll take that into account as well."
"Oh, enough between you two," Inuyasha snapped, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me away. "Shut up already, jeez."
"Is there a problem?" I asked him.
"No, I just knew that if you stood there talking to him much longer, you'd leave later, and if you left any later, I'd never let you leave," he muttered, not meeting my eyes.
I stared at him, feeling my heart break. I was leaving them all . . . I had to! I didn't have any other options! I . . . I couldn't think of anything to say, so I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his shoulder. "I don't want to go," I told him, finally starting to cry.
He returned the gesture, not letting go this time. "Then don't! You could stay here, with us—gods, even for Shippou, for crying out loud. Stay for him." I laughed weakly. "Stay for me."
The laughter dissolved into tears again. "I can't!" I sobbed. "I can't—I can't do this anymore. I don't belong here," I said between sobs, "I never did. It just hurts too much—"
"It doesn't' have to," he insisted fiercely. "It can be great—we had fun, right?"
"Always," I admitted, sniffling before breaking down again. "I just . . . I don't want to think about the times when it wasn't fun. I hurt too much . . ."
"If you want me to kill the bastard," he said, voice muffled by my shoulder, "then I will."
I went very limp. "Don't. It doesn't matter. I'm going home and I'll never see him again."
"You'll never see any of us again," he reminded me, his voice cracking.
"I can't," I repeated, although I didn't know which one of us I was trying to convince. "I can't stay here. This isn't my time. My home is in Tokyo, five hundred years from now."
"Yeah, I've been," he muttered. "Well then—go on. Have fun with Hojo or whoever. Start your life over again, okay? If you're going to go home . . . do it right. Don't think about us."
I pulled back, looking at him sadly. "Only if you'll do the same."
He snorted. "The rules only apply to you."
I sighed. "This is too much. Inuyasha—I love all of you guys. You know that, right?"
"You'd better," he scowled, slipping down his mask of arrogance quickly. His face was as irritated as ever—but his eyes were overbright, catching the light of the setting sun. They gave him away. He took my hand and pressed something into it. "Take it with you," he told me. "It's not safe here and all . . . so just, you know, do something with it. Make it an earring, for all I care."
I looked down into my hand. The Shikkon Jewel lay nestled in my palm like a pearl. "But you—you were going to use it to become a demon . . ."
"Oh, who needs that," he scoffed. "The last thing I need is to be just like my brother."
I smiled weakly. "Yeah, that's the last thing any of us need."
He studied me carefully. "You don't hate him, do you?" A statement.
I shrugged. "I think that if I'd had time, I wouldn't have. But I can't be around him right now . . . I just can't. It took so much out of me to find room to care for him . . . and now this. I can't spend my entire life trying to move beyond one thing—which is exactly what I'd do, trust me. I just need to go home and start over."
"Then go," he told me shortly, dropping his eyes to his feet. "I hate good-byes anyways."
I smiled. "I'll be all right getting to the well on my own." I would spare him the trouble of having to go through this again.
He made a 'hmmph' noise and shrugged. "Go ahead." Now he was regular Inuyasha again—utterly and completely emotionally constipated. Before he could shoot off to somewhere—as he inevitably would—I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Bye, Inuyasha," I said thickly.
He grabbed me in a quick hug. "Yeah." And then he shot straight up and landed on the roof of a nearby house, as unmoving and timeless as a gargoyle on a castle. That was the last time I saw him.
I sighed and turned to the forest, walking back to the well that would take me home. I couldn't keep my tears in any longer—I had almost really, truly lost it in front of Inuyasha, but I had so much I needed to cry about that I suspected I would cry for days. I didn't break down yet, but I did let the tears spill over that I couldn't contain anymore. The forest moved by me in a blur as I practically ran to the well now, so desperate to get the hell out of this place that I couldn't even comprehend it.
I came to a halt at the well, no longer uncertain about jumping into its depths and to be frank, I wouldn't have cared even if I had been afraid of jumping. It was the noise in the forest behind me that kept me from jumping in immediately.
I turned slowly and found myself face-to-face with Sesshoumaru, tall and beautiful and absolutely unreadable. I threw my bag down into the well and just looked at him. He said nothing at first, just looked back at me. It all came rushing back to me then—the hurt, the betrayal, the utter. . . the fact that I couldn't even hate him for it. I sat down on the edge of the well and put my face in my hands. "Just go," I muttered.
"Kagome—" he began.
I stood up furiously, despite the tears that I honestly couldn't hold in any longer. I glared at him, eyes swimming and my chin trembling violently. "You know what?" I snapped, a wail rising in my throat that I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control if he didn't leave. "If you won't go, then I will."
"Dammit, Kagome, wait—" he reached out to take my hand, but I jerked away. I didn't even bid him a scathing farewell as I turned and stepped down into the darkness of the well.
I stood up after a moment and brushed myself off, picking up my bag and climbing out. I ran into the house, banging open every door that crossed me. "Mom?" I hollered.
"She's in her room," Souta told me. "Back already?"
I dropped my bag to the floor and gave him a hug, rather than follow my impulse and run by him—Sango would have. "Yeah. Back already." I pulled away and entered my mother's room slowly.
Maybe I was overwhelmed. Maybe I was exhausted. But when my mother looked up at me over the top of her book, I couldn't keep it in anymore. "Mommy?" I asked in a small, trembling voice. Without a word, she stood up and wrapped her arms around me in my distress, and I cried like I would never stop.