/Run…hide/
/All that was sacred to us/
/Sacred to us/
/See the signs/
/The covenant has been broken/
/By mankind/
/Leaving us with no shoulder…/
/with no shoulder/
/To rest our head on/

It was all so familiar, playing through his head for what must have been the millionth time. He ran as fast as his feet would take him, seeming impossibly slow for his demon heritage. Every leaf on every tree, every blade of grass stood out as if he was standing still. Too slow, too slow. Time was too fast, too fast. Just yesterday the journey to Kikyou's house hadn't been so damn far…and there was a life on the line…

/Who's got my back now?/
/When all we have left is deceptive/
/So disconnected/
/So what is the truth now?/

He's thought she'd just been talking. Just been saying she wanted to die, like every teenager did at one point or another. Still, she'd sounded somewhat serious, so he'd called a counselor to talk to her. Just to calm her down, even a little. He thought Kikyou would listen, would realizing she didn't need to die to be free. Why hadn't she listened?

/ "Inuyasha, listen." The counselor's voice crackled through the receiver. "I went to visit Kikyou again today, like you asked, but…the door was locked, and a knife was missing from the kitchen. I can't break the door down; I'm afraid something might be wrong. If you could just-"

His voice stopped as Inuyasha released the phone, letting it fall to the ground. He heard his name over and over from the receiver, but paid no mind. He had to leave, and quick. Kikyou, /his/ Kikyou, had turned away help she'd always accepted before, even if she /did/ complain afterwards. And without explanation. She never did things without explaining; she didn't like people badgering her.

This could only mean bad things…/

Finally. The hanyou skidded to a stop at the door, unlocking it and running in. He knew where her room was by now; he was there in an instant, pounding on the door. Golden eyes were no longer shielded as they usually were; his fear and concern were painfully evident now.

"Go away, Takaya-san! I won't let you stop me!" The priestess's voice was clear until the slight pained gasp afterwards.

Inuyasha kicked the door down without hesitation, stepping in the room. The sight that awaited him was horrible…

/There's still time/
/All that has been devastated/
/Can be recreated/
/Realize/
/We pick up the broken pieces/
/Of our lives/
/Giving ourselves to each other…/
/ourselves to each other/
/To rest our head on/

Kikyou sat on the floor of her room, the white carpet impossibly stained with red liquid. Her arms were invisible underneath the blood openly spurting from both forearms; they'd been bleeding for a while, he could see. She was pale, more so than usual, determined chocolate eyes staring up at him with frozen intensity. Her clothes were drenched, work outfit of a shrine priestess giving her the appearance of a person drifting away because of the volume. The sleeves were hacked off, leaving nothing to stem the flow.

"Kikyou!" Inuyasha made a move to come closer, but she cut him off.

"Stay away from me!" The rarely used anger caused him to stop, out of shock and grief if not anything else. "You're a traitor! I didn't want help! I want to die! If you loved me, you'd have understood, not sent that Takaya bastard to talk to me!"

"Kikyou, no!" His feet had started moving again, but by then, she was already dying. Too far gone. He knelt beside her, attempting to stabilize her as she began to sway from free blood loss. "Kikyou, listen-"

She pushed him away. "No, you listen, Inuyasha! I thought you loved me. I thought you would know why. But I guess that you don't because you're too ignorant to hear what I'm saying."

The hanyou responded with persistence. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as she died. The priestess, with no strength left to fight him, did not resist. "Ignorant? For wanting you to live?" Tears spilled down his face as he clung.

Her body tensed up, anger flashing in her eyes. The last bit of her strength went into the worst kind of goodbye. "Why did you betray me, Inuyasha!?!"

She went limp, heart having stopped completely. Her breathing ceased, and the blood flowing from her arms slowed and eventually stilled into a motionless puddle. She was gone.

Inuyasha cried out a sound worthy of a battle-stricken warrior, loud in his defeat. The cry was piercing, as the yell of a king who returned to his castle from war only to find it completely annihilated.

/Who's got my back now?/
/When all we have left is deceptive/
/So disconnected/
/So what is the truth now?/

/Tell me the truth now…/
/Tell us the truth now/

The hanyou woke with a start. The slats of the school bench were hard and uncomfortable beneath him, but he was known for his ability to sleep on anything, even his feet. The air was chilly, but that didn't bother him much either. Tiny, floating snowflakes drifted from the gray sky, leaving a white film on the ground. He sneezed, wiping his nose on one blue sleeve. He hated the stupid uniform, and took every little opportunity to defile it without looking like he thought about it. His school bag had been thrown carelessly underneath the bench before his little nap, "Yamamoto Inuyasha" engraved into a gold-colored plaque on the flap.

Inuyasha sat up, swinging his legs over the side so he was positioned "properly," as the staff so often told him to do. Not that he really cared what they thought, mind. He still refused to wear shoes, and defied school rules by having his hair as long as it was. He ran a clawed hand through his hair, careful to avoid his sensitive inu ears.

Five months since she'd been gone. Almost five months. 4 and a half, really, but who was counting? And he was still dreaming, still hoping that every time there would still be a chance. But there never, ever was.

His ever swelling feelings for his age-old friend weren't helping either. He felt like he was cheating on Kikyou, every time he watched Higurashi Kagome in deep conversation with Nishimura Sango, her best friend. Or when he saw her in the halls and became excited to be passing her, just like when he'd first met his deceased girlfriend. It hurt, tearing his heart to bits for everybody else to tread on.

Speaking of best friends…his own, Miyamoto Miroku, was missing. And – the hanyou checked his watch – ten minutes before the bell rang. The bum was probably off somewhere else, hitting on some girl or getting hit himself for that very act. He looked around, spotting Sango calling out for Kagome. Inuyasha didn't know where she was, and Sango usually found her friend long before he could. No need to worry about her anyway. Miroku, on the other hand…

Kami, he felt like a babysitter sometimes.

/Am I the only one who gets to make you laugh,/
/Laugh until you cry?/
/Am I the only one who asks you to go,/
/Go on without me?/

A young girl yawned and rubbed at her deep brown orbs, hair blowing in her face in a manner that slowly got more and more frustrating as thick bangs obscured her vision. A small yellow backpack seemed like it could hold a great deal more supplies, sagging loosely on her left shoulder. Her pace was quick, and every so often a worried glance would be shot at her watch. Twenty minutes. You can walk four blocks seven minutes if necessary.

She seemed sad. But it could just be a trick of the light.

Kagome hadn't been doing much on the day of Kikyou's death, and that was what settled so much guilt into her system whenever the face of the beautiful girl popped into her head.

Damnit, it wasn't exactly pleasant that all thoughts eventually turned to the female if they drifted onward too long.

She had probably been finishing homework, baking cookies, arguing with Souta over who had to sweep the chibi-shrine .. she hadn't been thinking. Not thinking of anything important .. not wondering if the boy she was in love with had a girlfriend who was bleeding profusely.

/Am I the only one who loves when you leave/
/your hair down in front of your eyes?/

She'd been in the usual flow of things, and then – to have a crying Inuyasha on the phone, his tears only audible because of the shaky growl in his tone – she'd felt selfish. She'd felt selfish and horrible and everything deeply and utterly wrong that came about when there was no /reason/ to feel so bad, but for some reason you felt you were to blame.

Always have to be thinking – be on your guard – just wait, you can be painting your nails and talking to Sango on the phone and Okaa-san can get hit by a car. Do you want to be prepared, or do you want to be surprised? Put yourself in a padded room and then the only danger /is/ yourself.

There, the school. Home sweet home.

/And who do you think I am?/
/And who do you think I'll be without you?/

Always caring too much when her feelings weren't needed. It was one of her greatest faults, although there /were many/. Dark eyes were nothing like that of the dead 'priestess' … her hair didn't have the same sheen … and her uniform didn't fall in that way that made her seem so out of place. So extraordinary. You're nothing like her, Kagome. Don't try to compare and contrast.

You'll come up short.

But was she jealous?

She didn't even understand how she felt anymore. She couldn't be selfish .. Inuyasha had been happy. He'd seemed happy. Right? That was what mattered .. that was all that she wanted. She didn't need him so badly. Stop feeling guilty, Higurashi! There's nothing to care about. He was happy.

That was what mattered.

She liked to see him smiling during the few times Kikyou would trouble herself holding his hand, or kissing him on the cheek. She liked to know that he was happy .. but it would've made her feel a lot less nauseated if she'd been the one making him laugh. Her jealousy was under lock and key, kept in a small box deep within her heart. Now you have your chance, Higurashi-san! The girl is dead. Your path is open. Go on.

/Am I the only one who had to dress you up/
/To see how you fell down?/
/Am I the only one who needs you to go,/
/Go on about me?/

She wasn't one to do that.

Open up and you can get hurt.

Don't you realize there is nothing to filter the pain away?

One brow arched considerably as she saw a boy with his hair thrust into a short ponytail, earrings glittering, but with quite a few colorful bruises emblazoned on his face – and arms, if you could look closely enough. A limp was evident, and Kagome blinked. Miroku had been thrashed heavily by someone. Someone she probably knew, and cared about dearly.

/Am I the only one who loves when you leave/
/your hair down in front of your eyes?/

Kagome felt painfully normal. Every step could be predetermined, as if she was walking on a set course. Now you're going to look for Inuyasha – all discreetly – and then you'll feign indifference (you're so good at that, after all these years) – and there will be Sango, who had been calling your name for the past fifteen minutes and had now begun to think that you'd been eaten by wild bandits on an exceptionally long skewer with liberal coatings of soy sauce.

"Sango-chan?!"

She called from her own respective area at the front of the school, walking towards her friend with a measured dosage of cheer. A loud yawn escaped past her lips, one hand reaching to tuck a wayward lock behind an ear.

"Why does Miyamoto-san look like a horse walked over him a few times?"

/And who do you think I am?/
/And who do you think I'll be without you?/