The Edge of Hell
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By Jessica Lynn S. (jessica@opalwings.com)
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Spoilers: I don't think too much will be spoiled by this, unless for, for some reason you don't realize the blatantly obvious gravitation of the series' two main couples (Inuyasha and Kagome, Sango and Miroku) toward each other.
Warnings: Mild sensuality and implied sex. No lemon, or anything too graphic, though. It's also somewhat sappy, if that's a problem.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, any of its characters or plots. Do not operate heavy machinery while reading this fic.
Summary: *One-shot* I have no speculation as to when, how, or under what circumstances the final battle with Naraku will occur in the series. I also haven't the foggiest idea as to how it will end. However, I do have a lot of speculations as to how the characters would behave as it impended upon them. These speculations are the basis of this fic.
AN: Thanks to Silverlight, for encouraging me to write this. You rock! ^_^
Shine, bright morning light
Now in the air, the spring is coming
Sweet blowing wind, singing down the hills and valleys
Keep your eyes on me, now we're on the edge of hell"
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- "Fake Wings," from .hack//sign
(A quote which seems appropriate, because "Naraku" supposedly translates to "Hell."
Don't take my word for that, though. I saw it on a website...)
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The thin crescent moon which hung above the world was veiled entirely in clouds. The night was frighteningly black, and the air was still, except for the crackling of the campfire. Red flames licked upward to the sky, sparking and dancing like demons against the somber backdrop. The hot orange glow bathed the solemn and uncertain faces of the four travelers, who ate their dinners in considerable silence. Sango's eyes were fixed on Miroku, who sat directly across from her. He raised his bowl of soup to his lips and peered intently over its rim, returning her gaze.
She met his eyes boldly before she slammed down her empty bowl with an emphatic exclamation of "Houshi-sama!"
"Sango!" he exclaimed in return, his dark pupils boring back into hers with an equal fire. Inuyasha and Kagome, who sat on either side of the monk, blinked and shook their heads in baffled unison. Sango stood up and extended a hand to Miroku to help him to his feet. He looked at her questioningly.
"We're going for a walk," she commanded sharply. He nodded uncertainly and accepted her offered hand, abandoning the remainder of his soup. With one swift jerk of Sango's arm, he was standing beside her. She released his hand and looped her arm through his, locking it tightly in the groove of her elbow as she began to walk. He shot a worried glance over his shoulder to Kagome and Inuyasha, but the two continued to eat beneath a thick blanket of silence. Neither one made any acknowledgment to their abrupt departure.
Soon the pair was far enough from the campsite to be out of earshot. Miroku blinked his eyes, trying to see in the absolute darkness of the forest. As if his unvoiced wishes were heard, the clouds broke just enough to expose a tiny sliver of moonlight, like a pale silver glow of hope in the blackness of uncertainty. It illuminated Sango's face as he turned to look at her.
"What is this about?" he asked. Her sudden boldness was fading faster than the glow of flames from the distant campfire, as they walked further and further from its security. She looked down at the ground, a pale rosy blush rising to the surface of her moonlit cheeks.
"Let's stop here," she stated plainly. She perched herself upon the thick trunk of a fallen tree. She leaned back against the cool, rough bark to gaze up at the nearly-empty sky.
"Are you worried about tomorrow?" Miroku ventured a guess.
Sango nodded hesitantly, then without any warning, reached out to clasp the standing monk's hand between her own. He kneeled so that they were at eye-level, and tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. Her muscles did not tense in rejection of his gesture, so he gathered that it was safe to hold her. He was beginning to figure that was probably what she wanted from him right now, even if she couldn't ask for it.
As he embraced her, she slid her arms beneath his, wrapping around his torso to pull him closer, until he was sitting down beside her. She laid her head on his shoulder, surprised that he had not yet begun to grope her. That was a strong an indication of his contemplative mood.
In a muffled whisper, just barely audible to Miroku, she whispered the words "You can."
"Can what?" he asked in response.
"Your hands," she replied, "do as you will with them." Miroku was taken aback by her words. His hands remained exactly where they were.
"Miroku," she whimpered, sitting up just enough so that she could look into his eyes. Her dark irises glimmered pleadingly before she nervously turned them to the ground.
"Sango," he cupped her chin and tilted her face upward to look at him, "This isn't what you want. There's a chance that I could die tomorrow and leave you with nothing. Or even worse, with a child who will bare the same curse as I." He rolled the prayer beads in his cursed hand. The movement that had become automatic whenever he spoke of his affliction, so much that he no longer even realized he was making it. "One night is not worth all of the possible suffering," he said. His voice was firm, with a hint of sadness.
"BAKA!" Sango snapped. She leaned forward, claiming his mouth in a kiss. The pressure of her lips against his was gentle, yet firm and persistent. She cupped a hand over the back of his neck so that he could not escape her attentions. There was hardly any need for restraint, though. After a short moment of hesitation, he gave in to her kiss, returning it with equal fervor. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to intrude upon her own. Her body pressed against his and she ran her hands over his shoulders. He slid his hand down to the small of her back, fingers stroking gently, lingering dangerously close to sensual territory. It wouldn't be long until his surprising display of willpower crumbled completely. She broke the kiss for a breath of air before lowering her lips to the soft, vulnerable skin of his throat.
"Sango, don't..." he pleaded in a breathy whisper, "we need to stop now." His eyes looked pained and conflicted. He was about to give in.
She pressed her forehead against his, meeting his words with a challenging stare. "I could die tomorrow too, just as easily," she said, her narrowed eyes burning with the harshness of that truth, "but damn it, Miroku! We're alive now. I want to claim my life while I have it; I want to make you mine while I have the chance!"
"Powerful words," he said. His hand dropped down the extra few inches to rest firmly on her backside, before sliding across her thigh. She sighed at the action, though for once, it was not a sigh of exasperation. "I'd expect no less from the woman I love," he said before their lips met again.
Inuyasha finished his rice first. He sat his bowl down beside him and glanced sideways at Kagome, who sat less than an arm's length away from him. He was beginning to feel suffocated in the silence.
"When do you think they'll return?" he asked, barely raising his voice above a whisper. "I don't like them being alone out there," he admitted reluctantly, "Right now, we all need to stick together."
"I think they probably have a lot to say to each other," said Kagome. "They're preparing for the worst, maybe," she suggested in a voice which was uncharacteristically monotone. She sighed, her half-lidded eyes still transfixed upon the flames. Inuyasha watched her in silence as the moments passed. Finally, he couldn't stand it any more.
"Stop being so depressed!" he snapped. Startled, Kagome turned to look at him. Firelight gleamed in her unshed tears. "It's not like you!" he said, gripping her shoulders and staring into her wide brown eyes. She trembled, at a loss of words.
In an instant, all of the sharpness faded from his features. "I'm sorry," he said, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face into her shoulder, "I know you can't be happy all the time."
"Okay," she whispered, cupping the palm of right her hand over the back of his, "apology accepted."
He turned his hand over and threaded his fingers through hers, giving her palm a gentle squeeze. His body relaxed as he leaned against her. "Kagome," he said, "I wish you would go back like I asked."
"I don't want to have that argument again," she said, firmly. Inuyasha sighed with defeat. He didn't want to have that argument again, either.
Before embarking for their final battle with Naraku, they had left Shippou with Kaede. Back in the village, Inuyasha had tried to send Kagome into the well. He had tried to send her back to her own time, where she would be safe from whatever hardship might ensue in the final showdown with their demonic foe. However, Kagome had no intentions of abandoning the group now, after how far they had all come together. Inuyasha had yelled, shouted, and stomped his feet to no avail. They went for days without speaking to each other, until he finally mustered a shaky apology.
"Please don't get mad at me again," he said, "but you know I couldn't bare to loose you."
"Don't you think I feel the same?" Kagome asked. Her voice was soft, but her words resonated strongly. "Don't you think I feel like I have a duty to protect you? If anything happened to you and I was safe at home, I would never be able to forgive myself."
Inuyasha slowly sank against her until his head was resting in her lap. She took the opportunity to thread her fingers through his silvery hair.
"Besides," she added, "if something did happen, I'd come back to you. I've done it once before, I could do it again."
Inuyasha blinked, turning his head to gaze up at her face, as realization dawned ever-so-slightly within his golden eyes. Kagome's soul was split, half of it belonging to a specter of her former self, but it was still essentially the soul of the woman who had loved him fifty years ago. He imagined a scenario fifty years in the future, where his loved had been incarnated into yet another form, but Kagome wandered the country feeding off of souls, much like the resurrected Kikyo. He shuddered, and shook his head violently, banishing the thought from his head. Kagome looked at him, confused.
"What are you thinking about, Inuyasha?" she asked.
"Don't die," he whispered, squeezing her arm protectively against his chest, "I don't think I can handle very many more reincarnations of you."
Her eyes narrowed for a moment at the rudeness of his remark, until she found a fitting retort. "You better not die either, because I'd be really disappointed if your reincarnated form didn't have these ears!" Simultaneously, she squeezed both of the ears in question.
"Hey, stop that!" Inuyasha growled, swatting away her hands.
"Or that attitude," she added with a grin.
He smiled in response. She ceased her assault on his ears to scratch gently behind them and he closed his eyes, a peaceful expression on his face. It wasn't long before sleep overcame him.
Sango's thick, black tresses were dampened. Her face was dotted with small beads of sweat, iridescent in the moonlight. The parting of the clouds had been set into motion hours ago, and with each new moment, more stars were visible against the blackness. Each was like a new note in a silent symphony which the night was playing out for her, orchestrated as the perfect compliment to the more-audible music of her monk's breath as his chest rose and fell in the darkness. They were naked beneath his robes, which he'd laid out like a cover for both of them, and they were beyond spent. Though he had tried to stay awake, to savor the afterglow of their passion, it was not long before Miroku's exhaustion had given way to sleep.
Sango lazily trailed her fingertips across his jaw, down the slope of his nose, and over his dark eyebrows. She nuzzled into his chest, wrapped in the warmth of his arms. Time did not exist, nor did the foreboding future the dawn was sure to bring. She closed her eyes.
The next time she opened them, that dawn was before her. Muted pastel tones of pink and blue shone through a few lavender-gray clouds. The colors were softened, like the fear of an uncertain future. After all, every new day was uncertain for them. It always had been, and perhaps it always would be, as well. She gently shook Miroku to rouse him. He blinked his eyes open, and their eyes met in a knowing gaze. The pair slipped back into their clothing, and headed to the camp, wondering if the night had been kind to Kagome and Inuyasha.
They found the pair asleep, before the dying campfire. Inuyasha's head rested on Kagome's shoulder, and her head rested on top of his. The fingers of their right hands were gently interlaced.
"I'll fetch some water for breakfast," said Sango to Miroku, "leave them be for a few moments. They look so peaceful."
Closing Notes: Well, to sum up my aforementioned speculations in a single sentence: "Miroku and Sango would screw like mad bunnies; Kagome and Inuyasha would just cuddle and beg each other not to die." ^_^
I apologize that I can no longer accept anonymous reviews on my fanfics, and I'm sorry if that denies anyone the opportunity to comment on this. I banned anonymous reviews in response to some of the "reviews" I've gotten on one of my other stories. However, if you don't have a name on ff.net and wish to comment, my e-mail box is always open.
