A/N: Fear the unabashed usage of fragmentation, rambling ideas, and lack-of-sense that accompanies this drabblish... thing. Any questions presented in reviews that I deem worthy of answering will be answered via e-mail.


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Was it possible to have a heartbeat without a heart?

Logic would say no. You must have a heart, beating as it pushes blood, the essence of life, through your veins in order to have a heartbeat. She knew she didn't have a heart, and she wasn't even sure she had blood. Many times before, she'd been injured, her body punctured with gaping holes that one could peer through with nothing to hinder the view. But she didn't bleed as anyone else did. Never did a single crimson drop fall from her wounds. Ever.

Perhaps her lack of blood could be attributed to the fact that she was a demon—a youkai. But then, what would the point of a heart be in any other demon? Was it merely a symbol of freedom and of power? And, when it was stolen, a sign of captivity?

Kagura didn't know. She didn't care, really, about symbolism and such technicalities.

All she wanted was a heartbeat.

And she'd do anything—anything—to get one.

"Kill the girl. Bring me her body. Let him see you."

The swoosh of her fan, the rustle of silk.

The cry of a little girl, the splash of blood.

The purposeful drifting of a feather, the thrill of victory.

The weight of his glare, the touch of guilt.

The rush of the wind.

Kagura's retreat.

Kagura's reward.

A little girl's life.

An oath of hate.

A promise of vengeance.

Sesshoumaru's promise of vengeance.

All for a heartbeat.


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