If You Need Her
by Scribe Figaro
SESSION FOUR: BREATHE WITH ME
"Addicted to love?
I'm addicted to fools.
I kill you once
And I kill you again
We're starving and crude
Welcome my friend
To the little things that kill."
- Bush, "Little Things"
Sesshoumaru stood defiantly, for he knew no other stance.
Damn him.
Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands, the last of the inu-youkai clan, the most feared and dreaded tai-youkai in all these domains, stood resolutely before the disgusting bastard child of the union between his beloved father and some human whore of no consequence. Hanyou he was, hanyou he was even now, despite outward appearances. His youkai blood fueled him temporarily, but it was a blood fever, a madness, and when he wandered off this battlefield he would still lack the intelligence to comprehend victory. Should he not recover from this condition, he would surely die as his hanyou body was torn apart by his own youki.
Inuyasha had taken his left arm in their first altercation with Tessaiga, and the missing limb was a constant reminder to him of the folly of underestimating his enemy, even a hanyou such as his brother. He remained an excellent swordsman with his right hand, and the sword cast of oni's teeth, the demon-blade Toukijin that could slice an enemy with merely the force of air thrown from its tip, the only weapon that could possibly break Tetsusaiga, had served him well until this day.
This day, it failed him. The blood which poured from his empty right hand spilled from his fingers like a five-pointed fountain, forming a pool of dark brown mud in the dirt, made testament to that. His sword lay far beyond his reach, and in the confusion he had even been unable to locate the sound of its landing.
He had thought Toukijin could dissipate the Kaze no Kizu. Had it not been for Inuyasha's youki fueling his swing, he may have been correct. But he had underestimated his brother yet again, and this time it had cost him his sword and the use of his other arm.
Experimentally, he made a fist. Grimaced. His hand was broken, that was certain. Perhaps his arm as well. Hard to tell. He was a youkai, though, and this would heal quickly. Perhaps a matter of hours.
Of course, he did not have hours. He had his brother not a hundred paces before him, reveling in the older youkai's indignity. He had Rin, who lay beside him, across the kitsune and girl that once followed his brother.
He had Tenseiga, the healing sword.
He had enough strength in his arm to draw a blade, but there was no certainty as to how long he could weild it.
With Toujijin lost, Tenseiga is the only thing that can stand up to Tessaiga. The blade cannot cut, but it can surely block my brother's sword, as it too is made of the fang of our father.
It is enough to parry Tessaiga, for all I need is to get close enough to Inuyasha to prevent him from striking Kaze no Kizu. In close combat it shouldn't be difficult to disarm him, and without his weapon he is quite manageable, even in blood-rage.
Sesshoumaru drew the blade, the healing sword, and charged Inuyasha with the blade aside him, ready to swing upward and cleave Inuyasha hip to shoulder, knowing the Tessaiga would simply pass through if he connected, knowing his brother would block it regardless.
But as the distance closed, Sesshoumaru could see the youki flow around the Tessaiga and know he was preparing something different than before. Sesshoumaru felt the same oddly overwhelming sensation he felt when he first surveyed the final resting place of Ryuukotsusei.
"Bakuryuuha!" Inuyasha cried out, bringing the sword down. Sesshoumaru found himself marveling at the feeling of his own youki becoming strange, and realized that if he had only known the Kaze no Kizu was only a prelude to this, the true power of his brother's precious sword, he would have put ten times the effort he had used in hunting for the weapon, the thing that should have been his birthright.
You stupid bastard-child Inuyasha! Look at your deeds and I dare you call me heartless. I kill for need. I kill for convenience. But never have I killed with anger, or with madness. Your youkai-rages make you a greater threat to your own friends than I ever was.
Damn you for distracting me.
Damn you for getting between me and the girl.
Damn you for letting Rin die.
Sesshoumaru brought Tenseiga above his head as Inuyasha brought Tessaiga down.
The Bakuryuuha struck Tenseiga with overwhelming force, yet Sesshoumaru's hand remained steady. Waves of youki became deadly funnels, tearing apart the ground around them, but as each one struck Tenseiga it was drawn in, and in a matter of seconds the attack was totally absorbed by Tenseiga.
The healing sword throbbed, and in a terrific explosion the absorbed attack was released as healing energy, and Sesshoumaru found himself very nearly smiling – the closest he had come to smiling in recent memory, in any case – as things like stars, like spirits, like flowers and trees, fire and water, land and sea, all burst forth from Tessaiga in brilliant translucent shapes and colors that encompassed the entire forest.
The ground about his feet exploded in wildflowers, and Sesshoumaru had his first taste of his sword's ultimate strength.
Kikyou stood at the edge of the woods, surveying the battle with calm, cold eyes. Both Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru seemed too occupied to notice her, but that would change very soon.
Raising her bow, she nocked the arrow Myouga had scribbled over with his tiny incantations. Her hama no ya would have worked well enough to seal Inuyasha, she thought, but it was possible that while in full youkai form her sealing arrows would either be ineffective or kill him outright. Further, Myouga seemed to suggest not all the spells infused on the arrow's shaft were to paralyze Inuyasha – some might be preparation for the flea's battle against Asesu.
Sesshoumaru rushed Inuyasha, and sensing her opportunity, she drew back the arrow.
The blades clashed, and Kikyou was frozen as wave after wave of healing energy flowed around her.
She felt her porcelain skin become soft. She felt the sensation of a warmth in her chest.
My heartbeat?
It had been fifty years since she had felt such a thing.
Fifty years ago, she was betrayed, the sacred jewel entrusted to her protection, the Shikon no Tama, stolen from her. Fifty years ago, the claw raked up her back and over her shoulder. Fifty years ago she stood with arrow aimed at Inuyasha, her thumb and forefinger pinching the tail so tightly her nails were broken, a flap of skin hanging loosely beneath her kimono like a third breast, the blood pouring down her chest and back, sticking her clothes to her flesh, running down one leg and staining her white tabi sock a dark red.
Fifty years ago, her heart became still, she called his name, let fly her arrow, and ensured his fall.
Fifty years ago, she was alive.
"Kikyou-sama!"
The flea-youkai on her shoulder urged her on, knowing this distraction would not last, and that soon Inuyasha would notice them.
Damned insect. You can't understand. No one who lives can ever understand.
The aura around her faded, her skin was again cold, her heartbeat faded away. She died there, died beneath the same moon as before, and it was the same goddamned place, the same time, the same world, and she called his name with all the rage of a vengeful spirit, and as he turned to her, she struck him down.
The same hit, the same grunt, though what fell from his hand was not the Shikon no Tama but the suddenly untransformed Tessaiga, and he stared at her with something akin to astonishment, falling backward on the ground before Sesshoumaru's feet.